By Jelena Jerinić
MP from the Green-Left Front
Last week, the Green-Left Front revealed that in early October, the Ministry of Construction, Transport, and Infrastructure rejected a request to issue an occupancy permit for the building of the Main Railway Station in Belgrade, commonly known as Prokop. Prokop lacks an occupancy permit. That single sentence should be enough to make it clear to everyone that the building should not be in use.
What went largely unnoticed in this announcement is that this is a public document, available on the CEOP platform since it was issued. We didn’t obtain it from an insider; it wasn’t the result of months of investigative journalism. My colleagues stumbled upon the decision while verifying data about the evident rigging of contracts for a company tied to the ruling SNS party. In short, the tender was rigged, and Prokop was built by a company registered just one month before being awarded the contract. Yet another “success story” of Serbia’s construction industry.
The station building at Prokop was grandly opened just before the 2023 election campaign. At that time, those responsible for its opening surely knew the building lacked an occupancy permit. The wider public could have known too, had they been inclined to search the CEOP platform. However, we must also ask who else needed to be aware of this and, more importantly, what they were supposed to do with this knowledge.
One wonders what a construction inspector thinks while watching Prokop’s opening ceremony on television—or even hearing about it, given how difficult it would have been to avoid the news. Do they question whether the building has an occupancy permit? Over the past year, we’ve repeatedly heard complaints about the building leaking, doubts about the stability of the escalators leading to the platforms—when they work at all.
A year later, the Assistant Minister of Construction, Transport, and Infrastructure rejected the request by Serbia’s Rail Infrastructure to issue an occupancy permit, and this decision was posted on CEOP on October 4, where it has remained for over a month. Did the Assistant Minister inform their colleagues in the construction inspection department about this? I doubt it.
The Station Building Was Knowingly Put into Operation
Meanwhile, instead of statements from the ministry, construction inspectors, or the prosecutor’s office, President Vučić explains that an occupancy permit can be temporary and that many other structures have either never had or currently lack such permits—so what?
Firstly, there is no such thing as a temporary occupancy permit. This is not the first time Vučić fabricates without blinking. There is such a thing as a trial operation phase, which is strictly regulated, but even the deadlines for that have expired. The published decision clearly indicates there is no data about any trial operations, suggesting they never occurred.
Though cloaked in pseudo-technical construction jargon, Vučić’s statement is essentially an admission that the station building was knowingly put into operation despite the lack of a technical inspection, raising concerns about its safety. And for a year, they remained silent about it. This is why the Green-Left Front has called on prosecutors to begin questioning those who posed for photographs at Prokop on October 20 last year. Let them explain who gave the order to put the station into operation and who will bear responsibility if an accident occurs.
Potential criminal charges abound; let’s name just two: unlawful and improper construction work, and endangering public safety.
All of this reminds me of the old Radio B92 jingle featuring Raša Popov: “Who lies, steals. Who steals, goes to prison. And those who go to prison are on a slippery slope.” Serbia is on that slippery slope today, but those who openly lie on TV screens remain far from prison.
Prokop Still Lacks an Occupancy Permit
Prokop railway station still does not have an occupancy permit. The application submitted on 26 July this year, later supplemented, was ultimately rejected. What does rejection mean in this context? It means the submitted request did not even meet the formal conditions for consideration and lacked a significant amount of required documentation. Although this might seem like a simple paperwork issue, it is far more than that.
The CEOP decision spans six pages, with the reasons for rejection detailed across 29 points. Among this astonishing list of deficiencies, two are critical. First, none of the parties involved or responsible for the project—neither the investor, supervisor, nor contractor—has provided a statement confirming that the structure is even structurally complete or that it has been built as per the design. There is no record of when members of the technical review commission were appointed, their names, or their licenses. Second, it is impossible to determine the standards or methods used to assess the quality of the construction work and the materials used. How can one then conclude whether the building is safe—especially when it is a public structure used daily by thousands of people for over a year?
A Culture of No Occupancy Permits
It is a fact that no one is truly surprised. Serbia is rife with buildings lacking occupancy permits. It is not uncommon for private investors to add extra floors to a structure after obtaining a construction permit. This non-compliance with the original project often results in the building lacking an occupancy permit, and yet, no action is taken. The lack of permits has become normalized. Inspectors remain silent, and residents often cannot legalise the building themselves. Everyone simply hopes that no disaster occurs.
Even the Soko Mine Operated Without a Permit
However, when it comes to a major state project like a railway station, these excuses do not hold water. This raises the question of why someone would submit such substandard documentation for Prokop. Perhaps because no technical inspection was conducted? Perhaps because no technical review commission existed at all, with the only “commission” consisting of Vučić and his entourage? When framed this way, the situation becomes much graver.
Unfortunately, Prokop is not an isolated case. Recall that 15 months after eight miners tragically lost their lives in the Soko mine, it was revealed that the mine lacked a permit to operate. The outcome? A mere charge for an economic offence against the company managing the mine and the firm responsible for the technical oversight of the facility. In other words, no one went to prison, and the miners themselves were deemed responsible for their deaths. Yet, someone must have known the mine was operating without a permit. Had the ministries and inspectors done their jobs, could the tragedy have been avoided?
Many individuals—knowingly or unknowingly—contribute to the persistence of Serbia’s corrupt elite in power and their continued freedom.
The Normalisation of Corruption
One of the hallmarks of the criminal governance of the Serbian Progressive Party (SNS) is its successful normalization of corruption. We all know they are stealing. We all see it happening. Yet many believe it occurs far from their homes, workplaces, and families. It is now evident that corruption kills. If we genuinely want to ensure that “this never happens again,” as banners at protests following major tragedies often proclaim, we must think proactively.
What other major projects are precariously hanging over our heads, waiting to cause harm? Look no further than the EXPO project. How much graft is involved there, compromising safety for profit?
Calling Experts to Speak Out
This is why we have called on all experts, particularly architects and construction engineers who know how things are built and what corners are cut, to come forward and present evidence. Recently, we were inspired by the courage, integrity, and responsibility shown by engineer Zoran Đajić in speaking out. Sadly, while the majority remain silent, hoping this is happening elsewhere to someone else, we all collectively remain on a downhill slope—or under a dangerous roof.
(Radar, 18.11.2024)