On November 19, 2025, the usually quiet halls of North Macedonia’s Idrizovo correctional facility near Skopje buzzed with a somber urgency. Thirty-eight defendants—thirty-five individuals and three legal entities—filed into one of the country’s largest courtrooms, their faces etched with the weight of what’s been called the worst tragedy in North Macedonia’s recent history. The trial, which observers say could last months or even years, centers on the devastating fire at the Pulse nightclub in the eastern town of Kocani that killed 63 people and injured more than 200 on March 16, 2025.
The courtroom was packed—not just with defendants and lawyers, but with the anguished families of victims and a media contingent determined to follow every twist and turn. According to Reuters, suspects were brought in handcuffs from jail, with dozens of family members in attendance, their grief palpable. The presiding judge, Diana Gruevska-Ilievska, opened proceedings with a promise of transparency and respect for the pain of the bereaved. "We will have respect for the grief and pain of the relatives of the victims, everyone will have the right to tell their version of the case and to propose evidence ... We will be transparent," she said, as quoted by Reuters. She also cautioned, “I cannot promise speed because mistakes can be made,” urging patience as the country’s justice system faces one of its toughest tests yet.
The case is as complex as it is tragic. The defendants include a cross-section of Kocani’s civic and business life: the nightclub’s owner and management, security staff, three former mayors, state inspectors, civil servants, police officers, and even the companies involved in the club’s construction and modifications. The indictment, read aloud on the first day, alleges a "chain of omissions and illegal actions"—from unlawful licensing and ignored safety inspections to a lack of fire exits and flammable building materials—that turned Club Pulse into what prosecutors described as a “death trap.”
On the night of March 16, the Pulse nightclub was packed well beyond its legal capacity—about 500 people, most of them young, had crowded in for a concert by the hip-hop duo DNK. Sparks from pyrotechnic devices used during the performance ignited the flammable ceiling. With only one proper exit functioning and the back door locked, panic erupted. Thick smoke filled the space as the fire spread rapidly, trapping many inside. Fifty-nine people died at the scene or shortly after being hospitalized, and four more succumbed to their injuries in the following months, bringing the death toll to 63. More than 200 others suffered burns or severe respiratory damage.
In the aftermath, the country reeled. Authorities discovered that the Pulse club had been operating without a valid license, lacked sufficient fire exits and extinguishers, and had failed multiple basic safety requirements. According to BBC News, prosecutors allege that permits were granted illegally, inspections were not performed, and there was no permit for the pyrotechnics that triggered the blaze. Prosecutor Borche Janev, as cited by BBC News, told the court, “If we remain silent and lose the truth... we will never have the strength as a society to embark on a path to healing.”
The case has become a lightning rod for public anger over what many see as years of systemic corruption and institutional neglect. In the weeks following the disaster, protests erupted across Skopje and other towns. Families of victims, joined by thousands of supporters, marched through the streets, demanding accountability and justice. The movement gained momentum online as well, with campaigns like "Who’s Next?" and events such as the "March of the Angels" keeping the tragedy in the public eye. Nearly every weekend since the fire, relatives have organized marches in Kocani and the capital, determined not to let the memory of their loved ones fade or the demand for justice wane.
Prosecutors are seeking significant jail terms for those found responsible—up to 10 years for serious crimes against public security, and in some accounts, potentially even life imprisonment for the gravest offenses. The accused have yet to enter formal pleas, and with hundreds or even thousands of pieces of evidence expected to be introduced, the trial is set to be a marathon. The Skopje Criminal Court has announced it will hold two sessions per week in an effort to expedite proceedings, but Judge Gruevska-Ilievska has warned the process could stretch from five months to five years.
The trial is not just about individual accountability; it’s a reckoning with North Macedonia’s broader institutional failings. Prosecutors argue that the tragedy was not the result of one person’s reckless act but a culmination of years of neglect, corruption, and abdication of responsibility by those entrusted with public safety. As Balkan Insight reports, the indictment includes not just the club owner and staff but also former mayors, inspectors, and government officials—anyone who, in the prosecutors’ view, either participated in or turned a blind eye to the systemic issues that led to the disaster.
For the families of the victims, the trial is a bittersweet milestone. Many have spent the past eight months in a state of limbo, organizing marches and vigils, pressing for a thorough and transparent investigation. Their demands are simple and heartfelt: a fair trial, acknowledgment of the pain and loss they have endured, and meaningful reform to ensure that such a tragedy never happens again.
The scale of the tragedy has drawn international attention, with observers noting that the Kocani fire ranks among the deadliest nightclub disasters in Europe in recent memory. The case is seen as a critical test for North Macedonia’s justice system and its ability to confront entrenched corruption and enforce public safety regulations. According to Reuters, chief prosecutor Ljupco Kocevski has assembled a team of 15 prosecutors for the trial, with plans to add more if needed to prevent delays.
Defense lawyers have already attempted to delay the start of proceedings, arguing that merging the charges into a single case violated their clients’ rights. The judge, however, rebuffed these efforts, ruling that the consolidation did not infringe on due process. The trial’s early days have thus been marked by both procedural wrangling and a sense of historic gravity, as North Macedonia confronts the painful legacy of the Pulse nightclub fire.
As the trial unfolds, the eyes of a grieving nation remain fixed on the courtroom in Idrizovo. For the families of the 63 victims, for the hundreds who survived with injuries, and for a public desperate for change, the hope is that justice—though slow—will ultimately be served.
