Quick answer: partly, and it depends who you ask. On the map, the Balkan Peninsula’s northern edge is usually drawn along the Danube, Sava and Kupa rivers, which puts Split and the whole Dalmatian coast inside it. Politically, no: when the EU says “Western Balkans” today, it means six countries that haven’t joined yet, and Croatia joined in 2013. Culturally, most Croatians will tell you they’re Central European and Mediterranean. Some will admit they’re a little bit Balkan too.
This is one of my favourite questions on tour, and I get it almost every day. I was born in Bosnia, where nobody argues about it, and I live in Split, where the answer is… complicated. So here’s how I explain it.
What the map says
Geographers don’t fully agree on where the Balkan Peninsula ends, but the line you’ll see most often follows three rivers: the Danube, the Sava and the Kupa. Everything south of that line is the peninsula. By that definition, the part of Croatia south of the Sava and the Kupa is in, and that includes Split, Dubrovnik and the whole Dalmatian coast. The north and east of the country, like Slavonia, sit outside it, and Zagreb sits right on the Sava.
Some definitions are wider and include all of Croatia, even a piece of Slovenia. Either way, if you’re standing on the Riva in Split, you’re on the Balkan Peninsula.
What the EU says
In Brussels, “the Western Balkans” means six countries: Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Kosovo, Montenegro, North Macedonia and Serbia. They’re the ones still on their way into the EU. Croatia used to be counted in that group too, until it joined the EU on 1 July 2013. Since 1 January 2023 Croatia has also used the euro and been part of the Schengen area.
So politically, Croatia has moved out of the “Western Balkans” box, and that matters for travellers too. Bosnia isn’t in the EU or Schengen, so if you take a day trip to Mostar, bring your passport for the border.
What Croatians say
Ask a Croatian and you’ll usually hear “Central Europe” or “the Mediterranean”. There’s history behind that. While the Ottoman Empire spread across most of the Balkans, Croatia’s lands were mostly under Habsburg Austria or Venice. Split looked toward Venice for almost 400 years (I tell that story in the history of Split in one story).
The word “Balkan” also carries baggage. For a lot of people it still sounds like chaos and war, and after the 1990s many Croats wanted to put as much distance between themselves and that image as possible. The feeling was strong enough to go into the constitution: since 1997, Croatia is forbidden from joining any union that could bring back a South Slavic state or “any form of consolidated Balkan state”.
But it’s changing. A recent study found that young people in most Croatian counties actually identify more with the Balkans than with Central Europe, simply as a name for the countries of the former Yugoslavia, not as an insult. And even here in Dalmatia, people draw a line between the coast, which feels Mediterranean, and the hinterland behind the mountains, which feels more Balkan. Split sits right between the two.
What I say
I was born in Bosnia and I’ve lived across the former Yugoslavia, so I see it from both sides. We share a lot: languages so close we understand each other without trying, the same humour, the same coffee rituals, the same 20th century. Before that, our histories went in very different directions, and that’s where most of the arguments start.
Split is a great place to see both. The stones are Roman and Venetian, and the way people live here, slowly, loudly, over long coffees, feels very familiar to me. 🙂
A few tips for travellers
- Want to start a friendly argument in a Split café? Ask whether Croatia is in the Balkans. Want to avoid one? Say “Southeast Europe”, or just “Croatia”.
- Want to see the other side? Mostar in Bosnia and Herzegovina is an easy day trip from Split. My Split itinerary explains how to do it.
- Driving to Dubrovnik? You’ll pass through Neum, Bosnia’s tiny piece of coast. The history of Split explains why it’s there.
Ask me on the tour
Why do we fight all the time in the Balkans? Why do Split and Dubrovnik feel so different? Why did Bosnia end up with only a sliver of coast? These are my favourite questions, and there’s never enough room for them in a blog post. Bring them to my small-group walking tour. We can talk all day.