On November 7, 2025, the Serbian Parliament made a decision that sent shockwaves through Belgrade and far beyond. With a 130–40 vote, lawmakers approved a special law allowing Jared Kushner, son-in-law of former U.S. President Donald J. Trump, to redevelop the battered former General Staff Building—known locally as Generalštab—into a glitzy luxury complex. The move, which stripped the iconic site of its protected cultural heritage status, has ignited fierce protests, accusations of corruption, and a heated debate over national identity and international influence.
The General Staff complex sits at a crossroads both literally and figuratively. Built in 1965, the modernist structure occupies prime real estate directly across from the Serbian government’s seat. It stood as a solemn reminder of the 1999 NATO bombing, which left it heavily damaged. For over 15 years, it remained deserted, its scarred facades fueling anti-Western sentiment and symbolizing a turbulent chapter in Serbia’s history. In 2006, it was officially designated as a cultural heritage site, a status now swept aside by the recent legislation.
Under the new arrangement, a U.S.-based investment company linked to Kushner secured a 99-year lease to transform the site into a sprawling development of hotels, apartment blocks, shops, and offices. According to Global Voices, the project is valued at around $500 million. Leaked documents reported by Radar weekly on November 13 revealed that Kushner’s firm, Affinity Partners’ subsidiary Atlantic Incubation Partners LLC, holds a 77.5 percent stake in the joint venture. Serbia, for its part, receives just 22.5 percent—at the symbolic price of EUR 2,250. The state must not only provide the land free of charge for nearly a century but also bear the costs of demolishing the protected site. If the land isn’t cleared by May 2026, Serbia could face multi-million-euro penalties.
The plan calls for three sleek 135-meter towers to rise over the city. Only about 1 percent of the space is earmarked for a museum, a detail that’s done little to appease critics. The project has been classified as one of “special national importance,” which means it’s exempt from court proceedings and architectural competitions. Even more controversially, the contract can be transferred to a company in the United Arab Emirates without Serbian approval.
Government officials argue that the redevelopment will boost tourism, create jobs, and bolster ties with the United States. Yet many see ulterior motives. Critics, including opposition parties, heritage groups, and civic activists, accuse President Aleksandar Vučić’s administration of currying favor with Trump’s circle at a time when anti-corruption protests are rattling his increasingly autocratic rule. Thousands took to the streets near the site on November 10, waving banners and demanding the preservation of the General Staff complex as a war memorial and a landmark of Yugoslav modernist architecture. Several leading European and international heritage organizations have also voiced “deep concern and firm opposition” to the new law, according to Global Voices.
The saga of the General Staff complex’s redevelopment stretches back more than a decade. The first rumblings came in 2014, when the Serbian government hosted associates of Donald Trump to discuss potential investment. In 2015, an investor from the United Arab Emirates was announced as a partner. By 2016, then-Prime Minister Vučić declared that the entire complex would be torn down to make way for a monument to medieval Serbian ruler Stefan Nemanja, which was eventually built a short distance away in 2020. Still, the General Staff buildings remained standing—until now.
In March 2024, then-Minister of Construction Goran Vesić signed a contract with Kushner’s Affinity Global Development for the “revitalization” of the site. Kushner himself shared early design images on social media, expressing excitement about the project. But the path to redevelopment was anything but smooth. Serbian law prohibits building hotels on the site of cultural monuments, so the government set about changing the complex’s status. Experts at the Institute for the Protection of Cultural Monuments refused the request, prompting intense government pressure. On June 3, 2024, the institute’s respected director, Dubravka Đukanović, resigned after refusing to remove the protected status, citing a direct demand from Finance Minister Siniša Mali.
Within weeks, Goran Vasić was appointed acting director of the institute, despite lacking the required conservationist qualifications. He quickly submitted a proposal to strip the complex’s heritage status—without consulting staff or following proper procedures. The government approved the proposal on November 14, 2024. Employees protested, but their objections were met with visits from State Security Agency agents, whom they accused of intimidation. Undeterred, the experts published an open letter condemning the government’s actions as unprecedented in the civilized world.
In April 2025, police investigators presented the institute’s employees with a copy of Vasić’s proposal. Instead of a rigorous expert study, it was a brief essay. The employees called for the decision to be annulled and for Vasić’s dismissal on grounds of ethics violations and fraud. The ministry and government remained silent. But on May 13, 2025, police arrested Vasić, halting the demolition process. During his hearing on May 14, Vasić pled guilty to forging official documents and abusing his position. Yet, just two days later, President Vučić publicly denied any forgery had taken place, stepping beyond his remit into judicial matters.
The Public Prosecutor’s Office for Organized Crime announced that Vasić’s illegal proposal had “caused damage to the cultural heritage of Serbia.” By law, such a document should come from an expert conservatory committee, not a single unqualified appointee. Despite the legal and ethical quagmire, the government pressed ahead, ultimately passing the special law that greenlit Kushner’s project.
Jared Kushner’s company told The New York Times that it had no involvement in the criminal actions and admitted that “the fate of the project is less clear” following the arrest. The news of Vasić’s detention took the Serbian public by surprise, as reported by Radar weekly. The future of the site now hangs in the balance, with demolition and construction dependent on the outcome of a growing political standoff between the government and citizens demanding new elections.
Meanwhile, the controversy has played out against a backdrop of broader regional tensions. On November 26, 2025, Bosnia’s Defense Minister Zukan Helez refused to allow a military plane carrying Hungary’s Foreign Minister Peter Szijjarto to land in Republika Srpska, citing Hungary’s support for Bosnian Serb leader Milorad Dodik’s separatist actions. Helez emphasized, “As Bosnia’s Minister of Defense, my duty is to protect the constitutional order, laws and interests of Bosnia.” Dodik, who stepped down as Republika Srpska’s president after a conviction for defying international oversight, met with Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban in Budapest that same day, underscoring the complex web of alliances and rivalries shaping the Balkans’ future.
As Belgrade’s skyline stands poised for transformation, the fate of the General Staff complex remains a test of Serbia’s political will, cultural conscience, and the enduring struggle between preservation and profit. The outcome will reverberate not just through the city’s streets, but across a region still grappling with the legacies of war, memory, and ambition.