March 12, 2003, began like any other day for Serbian Prime Minister Zoran Djindjic. Around 9 AM, he was on the phone with a close adviser, Zoran Janjusevic, discussing the progress being made against criminal gangs. Djindjic expressed a fleeting worry about his decision the previous month to fire Savic and Bracanovic, but Janjusevic reassured him it was the right move, indicating a reduction in leaks of information. He asserted that Spasojevic and the Zemun gang would be caught off guard. Djindjic expressed his satisfaction and mentioned his plans to come in later that afternoon after some meetings.
Later that day, at approximately 12:35 PM, Djindjic's motorcade arrived at the government headquarters at Nemanjina 11. His driver, aware of the Prime Minister's preference to avoid the secure tunnel, pulled the car up to an exterior entrance. As the security team established a perimeter, Djindjic's top bodyguard opened the Prime Minister's door and reached for crutches. Djindjic was using crutches due to an Achilles injury sustained during a soccer match the week before. After handing over the crutches, the bodyguard went for Djindjic's briefcase as the Prime Minister began to move towards the entrance. It was then that two shots rang out, and Zoran Djindjic was struck. Building security immediately rushed to his aid, dragging him inside and calling for an ambulance. Djindjic's confidant, Janjusevic, arrived on the scene, stunned by the commotion. Kneeling beside the Prime Minister, he found Djindjic alive but bleeding heavily. Janjusevic urgently instructed security to forget the ambulance and instead help him carry Djindjic to the car. Within moments, they were speeding towards the hospital. In the back seat, with his head in Janjusevic's lap, lay the man who had ousted a genocidal dictator, brought war criminals to justice, and strived to build a better future for Serbia, a nation burdened by a dark past. His greatest offense, it now seemed, was his confrontation with gangs profiting from brutality, addiction, and war. Tragically, Zoran Djindjic died soon after.
While the official explanation pointed to Zvezdan Jovanovic as the shooter, acting on the orders of gangster Dusan “Duke” Spasojevic and former Special Operative Milorad “Legion” Ulemek, the deeper mystery surrounding Djindjic's murder lay in the question of "How did this happen?". Unraveling this mystery requires understanding the interconnected histories of Legion, Duke, Djindjic, and others who played significant roles in shaping the fate of Serbia.
The story begins in the 1990s, a period of immense upheaval as the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia disintegrated, largely due to ethnic tensions fueled by Serbia’s President Slobodan Milosevic. The ensuing wars of disintegration were marked by widespread brutality, with Serbian attempts at genocide and ethnic cleansing against Croats, Bosnians, and others being particularly prominent. Although Serbia's government officially remained detached from the conflicts, Milosevic’s state security services were instrumental in funding, training, and encouraging the formation of Serbian militias. Among these was the notorious Red Berets, responsible for atrocities such as the ethnic cleansing of Doboj in Bosnia, resulting in hundreds of civilian deaths and the displacement of thousands. Following the violence, these groups engaged in widespread looting. According to later testimony, the Red Berets established a “reign of terror,” seizing property and preventing fleeing civilians from taking anything with them. This brutality and avarice were rewarded by Milosevic, who integrated the Red Berets into the Ministry of State Security in 1996 as the Special Operations Unit, or JSO, after the wars concluded. This official status attracted a crucial new member: Milorad Ulemek, also known as Legion. Legion rapidly ascended the ranks, transforming the JSO into a key instrument of Milosevic’s repression, carrying out disappearances and assassinations of political opponents. By 1999, he was the leader of the Red Berets.
As Legion and his unit gained power, Serbia faced increasing difficulties. International sanctions imposed in response to the violence led to the collapse of the official economy, giving rise to a shadow economy based on the trade of wartime plunder. A prime example of this trend was the Zemun Clan, a mafia group led by Dusan Spasojevic, known as "the Duke". Starting with stolen cars, the clan quickly expanded into heroin trafficking and kidnappings for ransom. Duke and Legion found a mutually beneficial alliance: Ulemek helped plan the abductions and reinvested a portion of his share of the ransom money into the Red Berets, deepening the symbiotic relationship between paramilitary forces and organized crime even in peacetime.
However, peace was short-lived. In 1999, long-simmering ethnic tensions in Kosovo, an autonomous province within Serbia with a majority Albanian population, erupted into open conflict. Milosevic's deployment of troops, including the Red Berets, to the region sparked international fears of a repeat of the atrocities of the early 1990s. When these fears were confirmed by reports of ethnic cleansing, Europe and the United States, under the NATO banner, launched a significant air campaign against Serbia. For 78 days in early 1999, bombs fell across the country until Milosevic, facing the threat of a land invasion, agreed to withdraw. Serbia's infrastructure was devastated, and Milosevic's authority was severely weakened. He also became the subject of an indictment by the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia. Despite being an international fugitive, Milosevic remained entrenched domestically, requiring a substantial effort to remove him from power. The individual who would ultimately contribute the most to this effort, benefit from it, and then tragically lose his life as a result, was Zoran Djindjic.
A former philosophy professor, Djindjic had been critical of Yugoslavia’s rising nationalism throughout the 1980s. In 1989, he and a group of intellectuals founded the Democratic Party, one of the first major opposition parties in the country. Despite his strong liberal ideology, Djindjic was a pragmatist, famously remarking, "If you want honesty, go to church". Throughout the 1990s, he skillfully used his political acumen to mobilize large-scale protests, sometimes involving hundreds of thousands of Serbians, demanding an end to authoritarian rule. When Milosevic found himself targeted by NATO air strikes in 1999, Djindjic and his allies saw an opportunity. With training and funding from Western pro-democracy organizations, Djindjic and other opposition leaders began planning a broad popular front against the government. By the end of the year, eighteen political parties had united to form the Democratic Opposition of Serbia, rallying against Milosevic.
The timing was opportune. Years of international sanctions and months of bombing had crippled the Serbian economy. Milosevic's support for the wars of the decade had become deeply unpopular, and even the ruthless Red Berets could not eliminate enough of his opponents to save him. Perhaps failing to grasp the severity of his situation, Milosevic called early elections for the presidency of Yugoslavia in July 2000, a state now reduced to Serbia and Montenegro. Djindjic faced a difficult decision. While he was a prominent face of the opposition, many Serbs, though weary of Milosevic's bloodshed, were hesitant to support a liberal philosophy professor who had criticized Serbian nationalism. Furthermore, Djindjic's public association with the European countries that had bombed Serbia only a year and a half earlier was a liability he was acutely aware of, stating, "My political position is currently too pro-European for most people in Serbia. Their feelings about Europe are still too linked to the NATO intervention and sanctions, and they are suspicious about the good intentions of those countries". Consequently, Djindjic stepped aside in favor of Vojislav Kostunica, a long-time opponent of Milosevic but a more traditional candidate who embraced Serbian nationalism more readily. Djindjic took on the crucial but less prominent role of managing Kostunica’s campaign.
The election took place on September 24, 2000, and Kostunica won an outright majority, a significant defeat for Milosevic, who received only 37% of the vote. After more than a decade in power, Slobodan Milosevic had been rejected by his own people. Claiming that Kostunica had not secured a majority, Milosevic demanded a second round of voting. This blatant power grab triggered widespread protests across the country, with large crowds gathering in Belgrade. However, Milosevic and his loyalists still controlled the instruments of force. As the opposition movement planned a massive protest for October 5th, Djindjic and other leaders were concerned that the police, and particularly Legion's notorious Red Berets, would use deadly force against the demonstrators. Therefore, on the night of October 4th, Zoran Djindjic, the pragmatist, made another pivotal decision. He met with Milorad Ulemek, the very man who would have him killed years later, in the back of a Jeep in downtown Belgrade. On that night in 2000, they forged a deal. If the Red Berets refused to follow Milosevic’s inevitable order to suppress the protests, the protestors would avoid confronting Legion's men. Crucially, the deal effectively ensured the unit's continued existence in the post-Milosevic era. The next day, over half a million Serbians flooded the streets of Belgrade. Milosevic ordered his loyal Red Berets to defend the regime, but Legion instructed his men to stand down. For Milosevic, it was the end. On October 7th, just two days later, Kostunica was inaugurated as the President of Yugoslavia. Two months later, the opposition parties achieved a landslide victory in Serbia’s parliamentary elections. Zoran Djindjic, recognized for his work, leadership, and willingness to compromise with Kostunica and Legion, was chosen as Prime Minister.
As Prime Minister, Djindjic faced two intertwined challenges: revitalizing the collapsed economy and addressing the issue of Slobodan Milosevic. The International Criminal Tribunal had indicted Milosevic in 1999 and issued an arrest warrant. Europe and America insisted on the execution of this warrant and Milosevic's extradition to The Hague for trial. Until this occurred, the crippling sanctions against Serbia, particularly from the United States, would remain in place. Milosevic had been arrested shortly after his ousting, but this was for domestic crimes of corruption and abuse of power. This did not resolve the extradition issue, and Kostunica, with whom Djindjic's relationship quickly deteriorated, refused to approve a constitutional amendment or exception to allow extradition. On June 28, 2001, the Yugoslav federal court sided with Kostunica, ruling that Milosevic could not be extradited. This placed Djindjic in a difficult position, caught between the demands of international justice and the constraints of national constitutionalism. Yugoslavia’s existing constitution, drafted under Milosevic, explicitly stated that "A Yugoslav citizen may not be deprived of his citizenship, deported from the country, or extradited to another state". Djindjic lacked the legal authority to disobey this provision.
Faced with this dilemma, compounded by a constitution written by the very government he had helped overthrow and pressure from international actors whose economic leverage over Serbia was significant, Djindjic convened a meeting of his cabinet. A vote was held, and fifteen ministers, including Djindjic, voted in favor of extraditing Milosevic, while only one voted against, and six abstained. Within hours, Slobodan Milosevic, the architect of a decade of brutal civil violence, ethnic cleansing, and genocide, was put on a plane and flown to The Hague. It was a clearly unconstitutional act by Djindjic and his government, driven by both a desire for a higher justice that transcended the law and a pragmatic need to provide for his people by ending the sanctions. In his own words, Djindjic explained the rationale: "We should fulfill certain conditions to be accepted as a partner. The conditions are to accept the rules of this democratic world, to cooperate with international organizations. That means cooperation with The Hague tribunal, fighting against corruption and organized crime in our country, conducting financial discipline and (promoting) free markets and democratic institutions".
While Serbian sanctions were lifted, Djindjic's challenges were far from over. Milosevic was not alone in his crimes against humanity, and many others were wanted by the Hague, notably the Banovic brothers, Predrag and Nenad, accused of horrific acts as concentration camp guards. To apprehend these individuals, Djindjic’s Interior Minister Dusan Mihajlovic dispatched the Red Berets on November 8, 2001. The exact instructions given to the Red Berets remain unclear, but within hours of their arrest, the Banovic brothers were on a plane to The Hague, much to the displeasure of the Red Berets. On November 9, they mutinied. Red Berets, many of whom provided security for government officials, simply did not report for duty. Instead, they barricaded themselves in their headquarters in Kula and issued a statement demanding Mihajlovic’s resignation, asserting, “The unit was deceived and led to perform an illegal and unconstitutional act against its will. Given that the law on cooperation with the Hague Tribunal has not yet been passed…we reject any order issued in that direction. Members of this unit will not be hunters of Serbs persecuted like beasts without any basis in law”.
At the time of the mutiny, Djindjic was in Washington, seeking to build relationships with American officials. News of the mutiny complicated matters. The following day, the Red Berets staged a show of force by blocking a crucial highway north of Belgrade for several hours. Djindjic, still scrambling to return to the capital, took no immediate action. Upon his arrival in Belgrade on the 11th, he issued a statement threatening to fire the special operatives if they did not end the mutiny and convened a meeting with his cabinet and closest advisors. Records revealed a decade later provided an astonishing glimpse into the ensuing debate. Interior Minister Mihajlovic, the central figure in the conflict, opened the meeting by questioning the purported legal concerns of the paramilitary group, suggesting their real motivation was a fear of being the next on the Hague's list. He assured the others that the rest of the military remained loyal. When another minister exclaimed, “It is an armed rebellion against the government!” Djindjic finally spoke. Instead of directly addressing this or Mihajlovic's implicit suggestion to suppress the mutiny, he presented a complex three-pronged argument refuting the mutineers' legal claims. When another minister pointed out that Djindjic had not addressed what concrete action should be taken, Djindjic replied, “Let's see that the competent ministry finds a solution that will not add fuel to the fire. We have enough time tomorrow, if things escalate, to react more sharply”. With that, the meeting adjourned. Despite the urging of his subordinates, Djindjic chose to delegate the decision and delay a decisive response.
The next day, the Red Berets escalated the mutiny, blocking the same critical highway for nearly ten hours. On the 13th, Mihajlovic met with the mutineers, who reiterated their demand for his resignation. Believing his resignation was the best course of action, Mihajlovic penned his resignation on the spot. However, when he presented it to the mutineers, a fellow minister accompanying him snatched it away and tore it to shreds. One of the Red Berets drew a knife and threatened to kill the minister. But this was not the day Zvezdan Jovanovic would take the life of a government official; that would occur just over a year later, when his target was Zoran Djindjic.
In the meantime, the ministers returned to Belgrade with nothing but shredded paper and plans for another cabinet meeting. This time, Djindjic began by criticizing those who had led the effort to arrest the Banovic brothers, seemingly validating the complaints of the mutineers. While he refused Mihajlovic’s resignation, he proposed a deal to the Red Berets: he would fire the Minister and Deputy Minister of State Security, who held direct responsibility for the Banovic arrests. If they rejected this offer, he added, the cabinet would then decide how to respond. At this point, Mihajlovic became impassioned, retorting, “The only thing that is not good is this talk of “tomorrow.” We have to know what our answer is to all situations…This is about an armed rebellion…It is a political battle for whether we will cooperate with The Hague and whether we will be a legal state in which organized mafia will not rule this country, in which there will be no [military] units…stronger than the state. Therefore, are we going to disarm those brothers in arms and blood and bring them to justice or not?”.
Djindjic dismissed the idea, stating, “This story about disarming them is a story for small children”. Mihajlovic countered, “That is not true. If the Government orders to disarm that unit and disband it, I will implement that decision”. Another minister interjected, urging Djindjic to take a firm stance, calling it an “armed rebellion against the Government” with political motivations. Another voiced agreement before one man asked the critical question, “Do we have the strength to disarm them?”.
The room fell silent. Djindjic responded gravely, “Don't ask for an honest answer”. When pressed for explanation, he added, “When I individually called [the military commanders] who should intervene and asked, “Why you don't want to intervene?” they would answer, “Why would I, when I go to The Hague tomorrow?” That's when I realized the scale of this spreading paranoia”. No one was willing to act, fearing they would be next on the Hague's list. Consequently, Djindjic once again hesitated and delayed. For the time being, the Red Berets were satisfied, laying down their arms on the 17th after Djindjic brought in new leadership at State Security: Minister Andreja Savic and Deputy Minister Milorad Bracanovic, the latter a former member of the Berets. However, this concession would prove to be a fatal mistake.
In the aftermath of the mutiny, Djindjic understood the urgent need to escalate the fight against criminal gangs and paramilitaries to prevent the collapse of everything he had worked towards. Thus, in 2002, his government secretly began establishing new courts and prosecutors to target the mafia and creating strong legal protections for witnesses. However, in January 2003, word of these plans leaked out. The Zemun Clan somehow became aware of them, suggesting the presence of a mole. Suspicion fell on the two individuals at the top of State Security with connections to Ulemek and, by extension, Spasojevic: Savic and Bracanovic. Consequently, Djindjic fired them. But this action was not enough; their dismissal served as a trigger, signaling to Legion and Duke that it was time to eliminate Djindjic entirely. They recruited Zvezdan Jovanovic to carry out the assassination. As Jovanovic later testified, he believed that by killing Djindjic, he could restore a pro-Milosevic government, a final testament to the deep ties between the authoritarian, genocidal regime that preceded Djindjic and the ruthless criminals who had profited from it.
In a twist of fate for Serbia, Djindjic's assassination had the opposite of its intended effect. Such an act of violence against the state eliminated any remaining room for debate and delay regarding the necessary actions. Within hours of Djindjic's death, his cabinet convened and, partly due to Mihajlovic's insistence, declared a state of emergency and launched a massive police crackdown known as Operation Sabre. Following over 11,000 arrests, the results were significant. Although it took more than a year to capture Ulemek and Spasojevic, the Red Berets were formally disbanded, and the Zemun Clan, while still in existence, has been a mere shadow of its former power since 2003.
This raises the question of whether Djindjic should have acted more aggressively earlier. While he undoubtedly needed Ulemek’s men to stand down on October 5th, 2000, to prevent Milosevic from clinging to power, the situation was less clear by the time of the Red Beret mutiny in late 2001. The government deliberations reveal that some officials believed that the mutiny presented an opportunity to dismantle the Red Berets, a move that, if successful, could have paved the way for action against the nation's criminal gangs. Yet, Djindjic hesitated. He was faced with a brutal dilemma. He was attempting to construct a new, just society using the flawed instruments of a repressive, genocidal dictatorship. In his endeavor, the available tools—the Red Berets, the army, the constitution—were all tainted by the old regime. On one hand, he had to extradite Milosevic and figures like the Banovic brothers to pursue justice and secure international cooperation. He needed to "clean house." However, doing so meant relying on laws crafted to support dictatorship and seeking the assistance of the very individuals who feared, with good reason, that "cleaning house" meant their own downfall, that they would be next on the Hague lists.
Relying on and sometimes yielding to the institutions and personnel of the old political order does not necessarily invalidate the efforts towards transition. Individuals like Zoran Djindjic, Janjusevic, Mihajlovic, and many others dedicated themselves to the earnest mission of building democracy. Yet, despite their efforts, Serbian democracy today faces challenges and even regression, with organized crime resurging in the 2010s and continuing to plague the country. The transition to a functioning democracy is an arduous and uncertain process, often marked by setbacks. In Serbia's case, the forces of the old order were deeply embedded within the state security system, and the devastation of war had strengthened criminal elements at the expense of the public. A clean break with the past was never feasible. Leaders must navigate the circumstances they inherit. Nevertheless, there are more effective and less effective ways to navigate the transition from authoritarianism to democracy. Choices and leadership are crucial at critical junctures, even when the past casts a long shadow over the available options. Zoran Djindjic made significant choices at pivotal moments, choices that successfully led to the removal of a brutal regime and the establishment of a young democracy, but also, ultimately unsuccessfully, to the sustained influence of that regime's remnants over the new order. There is no definitive formula for such transitions, only the application of good judgment and a willingness to take risks. Sometimes it succeeds, and sometimes it does not. Perhaps Djindjic could have made a cleaner break with the past at the time of the mutiny. Or perhaps he acted as best as he could, given Serbia's deeply troubled history. We cannot know for certain. What is clear is that he tried, and that in assassinating him, his killers inadvertently strengthened the allies of Serbian democracy and cemented his legacy as a man who sought hope amidst immense pain and tragedy.
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