Bring Back the Yugoslav Basketball Team
The breakup of Yugoslavia ended one of basketball’s greatest dynasties. A cross-border team could revive that legacy — and model internationalism in a divided world.
(Kevork Djansezian / Getty Images)
In the storied tradition of global sport, few regions have given us a legacy as rich and influential as the former Yugoslavia in basketball. For decades, the courts of Belgrade, Zagreb, Sarajevo, Ljubljana, and Skopje bred a unique style of play: technical, improvisational, fiercely competitive, yet fundamentally collective. It was a style that punched well above its weight on the world stage, and it was born of diversity.
Today the nations that once made up Yugoslavia — Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Kosovo, Montenegro, North Macedonia, Serbia, and Slovenia — stand as independent states, each proud of its sovereignty, culture, and flag. That independence must be respected, not as an obstacle to cooperation but as a foundation for it. History does not move backward, and this is not a call for a return to political union. But sport offers a unique nonpolitical space to imagine solidarity across borders — and perhaps nowhere is that truer than in basketball.
So we ask: Why not a unified Yugoslav basketball team? Not as an immediate replacement for national teams but as a regional team and a cultural project, a new Yugoslav basketball collective built in the spirit of the old but oriented firmly toward the future.
The Dream Rebounds
There is precedent not just in history, where Yugoslavia once stood as a dominant force — Olympic winners, World Cup legends, EuroBasket champions — but also in the present. Today’s global basketball elite is crowded with players who could form the core of such a team: Luka Dončić, born in Ljubljana, with Serbian family roots; Nikola Jokić, the quiet genius from Sombor; Bojan Bogdanović, a Croatian talent; Bogdan Bogdanović, a Serbian one; Vasilije Micić, Goran Dragić, Jusuf Nurkić. Across the NBA and EuroLeague, the former country’s players still share a language of basketball, even if their passports differ.
These are players shaped not just by their countries but by a regional ethos that traces back to the time when Yugoslav basketball emphasized collective intelligence, technical mastery, and emotional depth. It’s no coincidence that coaches and players alike still refer to the Yugoslav school of basketball, even decades after the country itself disappeared.
We are not naive. The dissolution of Yugoslavia in the 1990s was traumatic. It tore communities apart and left scars that still haven’t healed. Nationalism has hardened borders and identities, and sport has often been used to reinforce them. Victories on the court have been framed as national vindications. Team rivalries have been charged with political and ethnic tensions. But precisely because basketball has been a stage for division, it can become a platform for unity.
Consider the West Indies cricket team. There is no West Indian state, no capital, no anthem — only an idea, a shared cultural project spanning the Caribbean: Barbados, Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, and beyond. These nations, once part of a short-lived West Indies Federation, have chosen to play together not because they must but because they can. The West Indies team has become a symbol of regional pride without threatening national sovereignty. It is at once a unifying project and an acknowledgment of plurality.
Why should this be unthinkable in the Balkans?
Imagine a team, call it the Balkan Select, comprised of the best players from the region, competing not in place of their national teams but alongside them. The same way Europe fields a Ryder Cup team in golf and a Team Europe in international hockey exhibitions. To begin with, the team could play in exhibitions, in invitational tournaments, in charity games. Its purpose would be cultural as well as competitive: to remind the world, and each other, of what’s possible when we collaborate across borders. Eventually, however, we imagine it replacing national teams in FIBA and Olympic competitions.
A Call to the Court
We write this as fans of basketball but also as internationalists. We believe in the power of sport to break barriers. We understand that the region has changed, and we honor those changes. But we also recognize that many families, like Luka Dončić’s, span borders and that basketball remains a shared tongue. That every pick-and-roll between a Slovenian guard and a Serbian center is, in some small way, a gesture of reconciliation.
The idea is not utopian. It is practical. Clubs already field multiethnic rosters; fans already support players from neighboring countries. In the EuroLeague, Adriatic League, and FIBA competitions, the talent is blended. Why not take the next step?
Let us be clear: this is not a call to erase national identities. It is a challenge to the old logic that difference must always mean division. It is an invitation to reimagine solidarity, one pass, one screen, one shared victory at a time.
The Future Is on the Court
We are living in a time of war, displacement, and rising nationalism. The Balkan region could offer a rare and beautiful counterexample of people choosing unity from a position of strength.
We do not pretend that a basketball team can undo history. But it can shape the future. It can be a cultural beacon and a project of healing. Let the youth of the region — those born after the wars, raised in peace, and inspired by players from across borders — see a new kind of team, one that reflects the complexity of their heritage and the possibilities of their future.
Basketball made Yugoslavia famous, and even though it can’t erase borders today, it can remind us that they were drawn over a common ground.