Revisiting the Contested Case of Belgrade Waterfront Transformation: From Unethical Urban Governance to Landscape Degradation

Abstract

This paper examines two large urban projects within a defined theoretical and methodological framework. Firstly, we analyse how the city administration in Belgrade, in post-socialist Serbia, managed the initial steps of the transformation of a part of the old town into the new large-scale development, the Belgrade Waterfront (BW), on the right bank of the Sava River. The contested outcome of the land transformation process contributes to a recognition of the unethical decision-making and performance of the responsible city authorities. Secondly, the postwar planning and construction of New Belgrade, in particular its Central Zone, is critically examined from the aspect of radical urban landscape transformation and its impact on society. Through a critical examination of the spatial development of the socialist period, we aim to identify emancipatory architectural and urban practises that could be an alternative to contemporary spatial production and that might provide a notion of key strategies for (re)establishing corresponding forms of socio-spatial justice. The two aforementioned research subjects are examined using different research questions, methodological tools, and different theoretical frameworks, which overlap, merge, and combine in the part of the study where the obtained results are discussed.

1. Introduction

In the prolonged politics of austerity framed by the 2008 global economic crisis, the neoliberal policy model, which is premised on the “value for money” mantra, has pressured public governance to effectively and efficiently deliver maximised outputs for given costs shaped by reduced public budgets. A new, capital-centric public policy has gone on to prioritise market-based values and commodification, enabling a reconfiguration of the needs of people and the role of the state disguised as a pragmatic stance on how and where the state should respond to societal needs. Pragmatic public governance, with a utilitarian calculus as a tool by which to assess the impact of policy choices on the well-being of citizens, is the logical outcome of the century-long dominance of the idea of technical rationality embedded in the modern organisational mode that underlies a decision-making framework that is emptied of moral concern. The hegemony of the neoliberal ideology pervades the manner in which political decision-makers have come to legitimise the implementation of public policy goals in a morally unsound fashion, by arguing that the desired outcome of economic growth would benefit the whole society, or at least the majority of citizens. Public governance is thrown into a moral vacuum, leaving public administrators demoralised [1] (p. 186). The relevant attributes of politics and morality are no longer adequate for the reform of the system thus established [2].

The governance context in which the issues of town planning and development policy are articulated is vital, as it affects the interpretation of the public interest concerning the transformation of urban space through a broad range of interventions. This is because it consequently shapes the quality of considered actions when the ethical perspective in decision-making is neglected or excluded. Our analysis seeks to understand the way in which ethically unsound urban governance practises may remodel the urban landscape, as well as the skyline of the historic downtown, by allowing private corporate interests to turn, in the Belgrade Waterfront Project (BWP) (Figure 1), one of the most attractive urban spaces in Belgrade into a mere commodity, devoid of cultural and historical significance. As large corporate interests have prevailed in making a consequentialist argument for the BWP, based on the alleged benefits that will be received by future generations, town planning, in the case of the Sava Amphitheatre, has been carried out in the reverse direction. The achievement of a largely desired foreign financial inflow into the city budget has helped to reduce the need to make decisions that are grounded on feasibility studies and detailed expertise, and which is legitimised by the public debate, with the participation of all relevant stakeholders and actors. By imposing a single vision of the project on professionals in public services, the validity of the process was simulated instead of deriving from a logical urban procedure that should take into account the collective interests of Belgradians. Thus, the expertise fits into a vision created by the expectations of enormous profit. This analysis sheds light on behaviour that violates the integrity of democratic procedures and the implementation of urban regulations, and, at the same time, victimises all morally responsible public actors who defend the public interest.

2. Materials and Methods

2.1. Historical Background and Spatial Context of the Belgrade Waterfront

From the eighteenth century until the end of World War I, Belgrade was a border city. Belgrade’s urban landscape was transformed following the paradigm of the modern European city, mostly during the nineteenth century, but the process was accelerated after Serbia gained independence in 1878 at the Congress of Berlin. After World War I, Belgrade became the capital of a new state—Yugoslavia (1918–1991)—and consequently a city with a large influx of population and high population density. In the nineteenth and early twentieth century, Belgrade was modernised by its integration into the wider network of the transformed, industrial world, becoming the main hub of the railway network in Serbia. The new railway junction was constructed in the flood-prone area of Sava’s right bank, known as the Venice Marsh (Bara Venecija, in Serbian), between 1881 and 1884. In its northeast part, this area bordered the urban, business, and residential district of Savamala, with contained production plants and the homes of rich merchants, which looked onto the river and was designed by the best contemporary Serbian architects [4]. Even though the Master Plan of Belgrade from 1923/1924 called for urban development in this neighbourhood—specifically, expansion of the Savamala district across the riverbank area between the river and the railway tracks—the area was gradually overtaken by production plants and thus its potential for urban development. The process caused persistent conflict between the City of Belgrade and the federal government, hampering the realisation of any new design plans for this area and eventually completely separating the city from the river [5].

This critical issue was initially addressed after World War II through the study The Railroad Problem of Belgrade [6], as well as in the Concept Plan for New Belgrade, 1946–1948 [7], which took into consideration a piece of the old town area on Sava’s right bank, namely the Sava Amphitheatre (Figure 2). Nikola Dobrović and his associates envisioned relocating the Belgrade railway junction in a special district that combined green areas with public buildings and still provided a connection between New Belgrade and the old city centre [7,8]. Town planners and architects agreed that this area was inappropriate for either a railway station or a bus terminal. The reconstruction of the railway junction and the expansion of the city centre onto the Sava’s right bank were included in the General Plan from 1950. This plan conceived a cohesive space, that would enable the city to reconnect with the riverbanks, creating an area designed to have “distinct aesthetic and human-functional values” [9] (p. 4). Of all the important projects in theoretical and professional terms envisaged by the General Plan of 1950, most of them were implemented in the territory of New Belgrade. However, the capital still did not have the organisational or financial capacity to implement all major urban developments on the right bank of the Sava River [9].

Postwar experts recognised the complexity and multilevel nature of the Belgrade transit hub issue. Over the next decades, the topic remained controversial among the professional public, stoked by the winning entry of the 1976 architectural competition for the new railway station, Prokop (in Serbian), on the outskirts of the city, and throughout its construction (opened in 2016). In the 1980s, the Sava Amphitheatre again came into focus through the project and study that re-examined the modernist urban concept of New Belgrade [11,12,13]. During the 1990s, this area, along with the part of the left bank just across the river, was earmarked by state and city officials as the future business and cultural centre of Belgrade—Europolis, or Belgrade on the Sava. An international competition was announced at the Congress of the International Union of Architects (UIA), in Barcelona in 1996. However, it was never realised, nor was any other plan until the most recent reconstruction of the area [14,15], established by the Master Plan of Belgrade 2021 (2016) [16].

By adopting the plan in 2016, the city government missed the opportunity to adopt the proposed amendments by building consensus through transparent and fair discussions involving all relevant stakeholders. On the contrary, the procedure for adopting the plan was not based on genuine respect for achieving universalizable collective interests of Belgradians. In doing so, the city government deepened public distrust by insisting on interpreting public interest exclusively on consequentialist grounds. The alleged urgent need for the rapid realisation of the GDP as the only path to a large financial inflow was perceived by city managers as a sufficient criterion for legitimising their further actions. Clearly, city decision-makers failed to assess the weight of all credible options. Likewise, the course of action that would best serve the public interest in terms of urban development that would transform the old city centre in the decades to come was not considered on that occasion.

In April 2024, the Serbian Government initiated amendments to the spatial plan of the special purpose area for the development of the coastal part of the city of Belgrade, with the focus on the Sava River’s banks. This policy marked a new stage in the BW project, aimed at absorbing another 327 hectares of attractive urban spaces of Belgrade’s city fabric. This time, the commodification of urban land was legitimised by a strategic development priority of “urban renewal” and the “upgrade of tourism supply” in the area of the Belgrade rivers [17]. The main goal of the spatial plan amendments was to transform the city into a “globally recognised destination of urban tourism” as well as a major regional business hub. The government grounded its decision in a strategic priority, enlisted in the City of Belgrade Development Strategy [18], which defines the further development of BW and its riverbank (the Sava quay) as a tool for rebranding the city’s identity.

From the perspective of urban governance sensitive to the public interest of the city population, there have been several obstacles hindering effective democratic scrutiny over whether such a radical transformation of the historical urban landscape served the public interest. In July 2024, New Planning Practice, a Belgrade-based NGO dedicated to improving the public understanding of complex processes of implementation of urban policies, summarised some of these controversies [19]. BW was declared a project of the country’s public interest, and, as such, regulated by the spatial plan of the special purpose area. This sort of a spatial plan was directly regulated by the Serbian government, which means it could be approved solely by government decision, bypassing the broader Spatial Plan of the Republic of Serbia—the highest-ranked in the hierarchy of the country’s spatial plans. This centralisation conflicted with the constitution and the Law on Local Self-Government [19], undermining effective democratic participation in the making of urban policies that, in the long run, may seriously affect the quality of urban life. The Serbian Government’s decision to add more attractive urban land to BW disregarded numerous strategic documents—both international, national, and from the city, e.g., the Spatial Plan of the Republic of Serbia and Master Plan of Belgrade (both the present and the future version)—relying instead on outdated ones [19]. The more worrying side-effect of this decision was the proposed displacement of the Belgrade Fair Complex, a protected landmark of Yugoslav postwar architecture and, hence, a core piece of urban heritage. The criticism of New Planning Practice culminated as the Urban Planning Institute of Belgrade ignored a number of public appeals by leading domestic urban planning experts, other Serbian public authorities, and international organisations to protect this complex [19].

In relation to the subject of this study, as well as the theoretical basis of our research, an appropriate methodological framework has been established that treats “landscape” and “urban landscape” as both theoretical concepts and tangible physical spaces, which are the subject of observation and reflection. Their complex essence forms the basis for the investigation’s methodological apparatus.

2.2. Theoretical Framework

The aim of the research is to study a phenomenon that has radically and permanently changed the image of the city and is part of deeper and broader changes occurring on a global scale. Landscape, as a complex concept, should respond, both theoretically and methodologically, to the examination of a complex social phenomenon. Interdisciplinarity, which is also a feature of this research, is employed through different theoretical and methodological frameworks, ensuring that examinations of unethical urban governance as well as the transformation of the urban landscape of Belgrade, with its many different features, are meaningful. Ultimately, this way of connecting completely different methods for a more detailed explanation of phenomena should lead to a clearer picture and a more detailed interpretation.

Borrowing from Pierre’s thesis that urban governance is influenced by clusters of social norms and values that determine the primary objectives of city policies, we argue that these norms and values are deeply embedded in collective expectations of ethically aligned purposes, goals, and objectives of the urban planning policy [20]. In part, the community’s expectations often include the demand for an ethical assessment of urban governance to discover whether the purposes, goals, and objectives are being formulated and implemented in a way that pursues the common good. Understanding the notion of unethical urban governance may enable the process of delving into the grey zone of decisions and actions not motivated by corrupt interests in an obvious or direct way. The explanatory potential of the notion of unethical urban governance for the study of the transformation of urban areas and urban development lies in its strength to comprehend a wide variety of elusive actions that may not be strictly illegal, yet may still be recognised as impermissible by fundamental standards of town planning and public governance guided by ethical principles and values underlying public duty.

In the complex realm of today’s dystopian urban governance, it is hard to imagine a decision with only a procedural (technical) dimension, because there is usually more than one answer to the question of the best way to design and implement town planning and development policy. The concept of good governance widens the democratic legitimisation basis by including factors intended to improve the exercise of power in managing public functions: transparency, accountability, effectiveness, fairness, participation of all stakeholders, social dialogue, and a consensual approach [21,22,23] (pp. 6–7). When it comes to good governance at the urban scale, we find the concept of the ethical city as another useful analytical tool interconnected with ethical urban governance, as it refers to collective deliberation on plans, policies, and projects designed and delivered to address core urban concerns by taking ethical considerations into account [24] (pp. 1–3). The ethical city also implies an urban policy based on a common purpose and solutions, as well as on awareness, transparency, and mutual accountability regarding shared commitments between dwellers, city leaders, and administrators [24] (p. 3).

The most critical aspect of urban policy, both at the stage of formulation and implementation, is the high degree of discretion aimed at providing urban leaders and administrators with enough freedom to make decisions by applying general rules to specific cases. Yet, freedom of choice is a double-edged sword. A bureaucrat’s practical understanding of legality may not necessarily include the idea of serving the public interest, which is one of the fundamental principles of good governance. While Bozeman [25] (p. 83) stresses benevolent and impartial behaviour as the main characteristics of the content of the public interest, this analysis employs the synthesised normative definition that sees public interest as the best collective response to an issue of public concern, generated through common decision-making and grounded in the desires and values shared by a political community [26] (pp. 676–677), [27] (pp. 67–81). Despite some limitations, we believe this version of the public interest provides a reliable criterion for determining legitimate actions aimed at promoting universalisable collective interests. The idea of serving the public interest is essential to sound urban governance, since it implies that what is important is not only what is done, but also how it is done, that is, whether it is done in a morally right or wrong way [28]. The focus of ethical decision-making must be on weighing options, by considering which course of action best serves the public interest while respecting the rights of all stakeholders [29] (pp. 1–5), [30,31] (pp. 141–160), [32] (pp. 112–132).

Urban planners and administrators are expected to be aware of the ethical ramifications of their public performance. A systemic problem arises if their lack of awareness is caused by moral blindness, so much so that they are uninterested in engaging with ethical considerations at all. When ethical concerns cannot be articulated or are intentionally avoided, a series of morally wrong decisions are likely to be regularly made at each stage of the urban planning policy process. Numerous ethically unsound decisions, accumulated through a snowball effect, compromise the integrity of urban governance, of which urban planning policy is a constituent element. Gradually, unethical urban governance could produce an urban space of exclusivity, denying the values of an inclusive urban landscape capable of responding effectively to contemporary challenges. The paradox of the human situation in today’s world is characterised by an overabundance of space and time and a complete absence of connection with the past, within the “worldwide consumption space” network [33] (p. 107). In the context of supermodern points of anonymity, this analysis employs the idea of the meaningless place to illustrate the immense degradation of the urban landscape in the contemporary world, and to emphasise the destruction of its integrative nature. A degraded urban landscape is a meaningless place, an ephemeral, transient world of antipodes, taken here as a marker of a certain stage in contemporary society; even if man and space are inseparably connected, man is simultaneously detached from his environment [34]. A degraded urban landscape marks a place that hampers the recultivation and recontextualisation of the environment and all processes necessary for recovering the existing landscape [35]. Since these values include the imperative that the urban landscape is a common good, we claim that city authorities, planners, and society as a whole have a strong moral obligation to create urban spaces that are open and commonly shared by all citizens. This moral obligation transcends the widely marketed utilitarian calculus of urban development goals used as political tactics.

The comprehensive theoretical notion of the urban landscape is interpreted here as the integrating function of the natural, mental, and built matrix of the city, conditioned by the techniques of expression of the cultural practises of a certain society and recognised through the perception of physical urban space. It is formulated on the basis of the notion of cultural landscape and landscape theory [10,34,36,37,38,39,40,41]. It is particularly important that the complexity of the theoretical concept of urban landscape allows one to perceive the very complex structure of contemporary, but also modern, urban areas from heterogeneous aspects, as well as to grasp the relationships between these areas and the entire environment. A one-dimensional approach to thinking about the landscape leaves aside the deeper meaning of modernity, precisely through the essential and delicate relationship between man and landscape, or through the human milieu [34]. Furthermore, the transformation of the urban landscape is its immanent feature, occurring in response to various changing environmental factors, as well as the history of the physical structure of existing space. The general attention devoted to environmental issues, along with their symbolic and metaphorical meanings, once again elevates the notion of landscape to the status of an alternative to urban planning [42].

2.3. Methodological Framework

The urban landscape is employed here as a methodological apparatus for the implementation of a critical analysis of Belgrade’s urban transformation. Concurrently, the conducted analysis establishes a connection between the ethical and aesthetic dimension in contemporary urban development, pointing out that the creation of meaningless places could be a very destructive outcome of unethical urban governance. Faced with the possibility of losing their “coherence and identity” in the processes of contemporary spatial transformation [43], it is particularly important to explore the changes to which landscapes are exposed. Thus, the conducted spatial analysis was founded on a set of consequences of simultaneous human activity [44,45] within the historical transformation of the urban landscape of Belgrade. The inclusive nature of the urban landscape is understood in the study as a feature of the widest public interest, represented here by the fact that everyone should be able to influence the adoption of a set of shared values in shared space [46] and, at the very least, have the right to decide on the planned radical changes within its built environment.

This research into the contemporary transformation of urban areas under the Belgrade Waterfront Project (BWP) was carried out over the period 2014–2024 by employing an interdisciplinary approach. At the very beginning of this urban megaproject, planned at the Belgrade riverbank, the analysis sought to discover the features of the implementation process of the idea of urban development at both the concrete, physical space level, as well as in its politico-social, historical, and spatial perspectives. As the main outputs of the city governance process, the appropriate indicators include the ethical perspective of the decisions/(in)actions of all responsible state and non-state actors. The lack of ethical concerns in urban governance distorts city planning and development policy by allowing highly technical yet discretionary interpretation of plans and policies, coupled with the high financial stakes to create opportunities and incentives to prioritise supposed partial over the public interest. The analysis is grounded in empirical evidence connected to official documents, decisions, statements, and activities of public authorities. The media coverage of events related to public opposition to the implementation of Serbian and city government decisions was also utilised as a material for analysing how city managers and administrators took or avoided taking action in the case of the BWP. This sort of empirical evidence is relevant in answering the main research questions:

• How did a decade-long, capital-centric urban development policy pursued by Belgrade’s city administration succeed in the radical transformation of a precious part of the old town fabric into privatised urban land by enabling large-scale investors to gain privileged access to constructing the business district and exclusive housing, while enhancing existing power asymmetries and inequalities within the city’s population?
• How did the unethical nature of urban land management decisions in the case of the BWP lead to the perpetual loss of meaning of the fabric of the old town along the River Sava for already socially disadvantaged Belgradians by their indirect exclusion from the new city district due to its scarce public spaces?

Responding to these questions is a valuable research undertaking if one intends to explore the circumstances in which the unethical aspects of urban governance may appear to be developmentally progressive when legitimised by a neoliberal economic and city development agenda, driven by capital-centric calculus. At the same time, from the perspective of deontological ethics, it fails to meet fundamental standards internationally recognised to be an essential part of public governance in today’s democratic societies.

The recognition of the relationship between the unethical features in urban governance and the degradation of the urban landscape in the post-socialist period in Belgrade is one of the main goals of the study. To explain the initial assumptions of our research and to pose the main research issues, we aimed to sharpen our vision of which features of alternative models within the modern socialist architectural heritage are necessary to be distinguished. The interpretation of the analysis is conducted in order to discover, or invent, what could be a useful element in the agency of future urban landscape transformation in the rather changed political, social, and economic environment. The urban landscape is understood as a methodological frame for the overall study of diverse impacts on the environment and the overall perception of spatial and societal forms. This sort of research poses the following questions:

• How can the notion of urban landscape be used for understanding socio-spatial problems and recognising their concrete consequences for the urban and natural environment?
• How can the experiences of urban landscape transformation from previous epochs be utilised as a repository of knowledge and understanding of spatial and social relations?
• What achievements of socialist socio-spatial development can be utilised for future models of architectural and urban theory and practice as specific innovative impulses?

When it comes to the role of expertise, conflicting stances have emerged among professionals regarding the BWP in the context of universally recognised professional standards and the public interest. Those experts who hold that the urban landscape of Belgrade would be recultivated and regenerated thanks to the BWP are mostly professionals involved in the design and implementation of the city planning and development policy [47]. On the other hand, critical views on the BWP are related to different aspects and consequences of its execution, such as a study indicating the need for an assessment of economic impact of the BWP, through a feasibility study of this huge enterprise [48]. The majority of domestic and foreign architects, urban planners, and historians of architecture emphasise, in their studies, the negative sides of the project and the deleterious effects of its implementation, contrary to the professional standards [15,49,50,51,52,53].

Among the critical studies dealing with the BWP from different perspectives, several complementary viewpoints can be distinguished. A comprehensive study stands out in which, even then, a project costing several billion euros, with radical cuts in public financing, was called “economic suicide” [54]. A study by activists and experts was published in 2017, addressing issues related to housing and the impact of BW urban development on the financial flows of the housing market [55]. Seven years later, in 2024, the most expensive square metre of residential space in Belgrade was located in this very neighbourhood and cost almost EUR 12,000 [56]. A scientific approach was employed in a study focused on actor–network theory (ANT) to analyse the dynamic urban entity of Savalamala neighbourhood and interpret the complexity of urban elements and structures [57], exemplifying the significance of an exciting urban district that stands in contrast to a big-money business-led quarter like Belgrade Waterfront. A 2019 study examined the early stages of the development of the Belgrade Waterfront project, placing it in the global context of similar transnational endeavours [58]. The endangered participation of the public in urban development processes in Belgrade Waterfront was discussed in a study that examines observed phenomena such as avoiding legal procedures in planning, ignoring private property rights and falsifying public debates [59]. One topic concerns the mechanisms enabling the implementation of the Belgrade Waterfront plan by transforming the entire institutional framework for the purpose of legitimising one megaproject [60]. The author of an academic paper from 2024 compares the development of three similar megaprojects in Serbia and Croatia—in Belgrade (BW), Zagreb (Zagreb Manhattan) and Novi Sad (Novi Sad Waterfront)—and analyses these cases, emphasising the role of the civil sector in “more inclusive and democratic urban planning” [61]. A systematic study [62] of published research articles dealing with the implementation of several megaprojects currently underway in Serbia provides an accurate picture of the significant representation of Belgrade Waterfront in this discourse, in the period 2019–2023. The Belgrade Waterfront as a megaproject is considered in these articles from different perspectives, but only one paper critically compares it to another project—the unexecuted City on the Water, planned for the right bank of the Danube River, preliminary designed by Daniel Libeskind and Jan Gehl in the first decade of the twenty-first century [63].

Our study examines two large urban projects within a defined theoretical and methodological framework. One is the planning and construction of New Belgrade from the end of World War II over approximately the next two decades. The subject of analysis is the complex process of radical spatial transformation and its impact on society during the socialist period. On the other hand, the focus of the research is the work of the city administration in establishing the initial steps toward planning and constructing the urban megaproject Belgrade Waterfront in the context of post-socialist spatial production. The two aforementioned research subjects are examined using different research questions, methodological tools, and theoretical frameworks, which overlap, merge, and combine in the section of the study where the obtained results are discussed. The asymmetrical structure of the research concerning these two subjects is conditioned by the research objectives defined after the preliminary examination of the topics:

• Recognition of the relation between unethical features in urban governance and the degradation of the urban landscape in the post-socialist period in Belgrade;
• Insight into alternative architectural and urban models through examination of corresponding socialist socio-spatial development;
• Searching for and specification of the relevant socio-spatial criteria aimed at increasing disciplinary and interdisciplinary knowledge to establish more egalitarian socio-spatial practises.

3. Results

3.1. Belgrade Waterfront Project

A positive image of the city—a simplified, generalised, and often stereotypical impression that people have of a city [64]—became paramount for the economic revival plans beginning in 2008, when the negative spillover effects of the global financial crisis, coupled with the circumstances of never-ending transition reforms, caused “investment hunger”. The city government, elected in 2014, was determined to promote an image of Belgrade as the most attractive location for business and investment in the region. A step towards this aim was the BWP, a megaproject conceived to establish new flagship structures for an allegedly vibrant city economy, with lots of opportunities for businessmen, tourists, and a wealthy minority. According to visual materials and planning documentation, the BWP has been conceived as a world unto itself, an enclosed system that obliterates history and produces a de-territorialised area, onto which it inscribes the overabundance of space devoid of any organic connection to the existing environment [65].

3.1.1. The Elusive Process of Urban Megaproject Inception

In June 2014, the Abu Dhabi-based Eagle Hills Company (EHC) revealed an investment plan for the construction of a whole new district: a total of 1.8 million square metres of residential and office space, worth over USD 3 billion, to be developed within a maximum period of eight years for the Sava Amphitheatre [66]. Although New Public Management, the proclaimed panacea for public administration reform [67], is still in its infancy in Serbia, outsourcing contracts to private companies has become the fashion of the day. Public–private partnerships (PPPs) have become a policy of preference for the Serbian government and Belgrade city authorities. In April 2015, a joint venture contract for Belgrade Waterfront was signed between the Serbian government and Belgrade Waterfront Capital Investment LLC (BWCI), owned by EHC. According to the letter of the contract, the Serbian government is to provide land equipped with infrastructure, while EHC is to invest in the buildings. EHC will invest EUR 150 million and will own 68% of BWCI, while Serbia will invest a loan of EUR 280 million, and own 32% of BWCI. This ratio in favour of EHC is not explained in the contract, nor is there an elaboration of the partner’s exact obligations, which means that EHC has complete freedom and thirty-year discretion to build whatever it wishes, wherever and whenever it wants (the initial time schedule was unexpectedly stretched). Moreover, there is no risk to EHC, since it is allowed to build and sell the properties individually over the next 30 years, enabling it to reinvest profits without increasing the initially invested capital. In contrast, the Serbian government takes on immense risk, with the obligation to fully prepare the leased land on which the project is to be built. EHC received a 99-year lease of 100 hectares of prime real estate without having to provide any compensation or bank guarantees as safeguard clauses for the Serbian government. The leased land is now placed beyond the reach of current laws (except the constitution) for 30 years, freezing any further legislation related to this project. Under the contract, EHC and affiliated companies are the sole and exclusive providers of design, construction, management, sales, and marketing services, and they are to receive a special fee of 3% of the total value of the project, which is another opportunity for the investor to regain most of the invested capital.

In a pragmatic quest for fresh capital inflow, the Serbian government declared the BWP a project of national importance, on the sole basis of the promise of EUR 3.5 billion in investment and the potential to create over 20,000 jobs. However, the legitimisation of the public interest lacks support from any relevant facts, expertise, and analysis; instead, it is based merely on the stated intentions of the foreign investor. Even if argued only from the perspective of a consequentialist calculus focused on the quick attraction of multi-billion dollar foreign investments and creating jobs in Belgrade, the developmental potential of the BWP is diminished in the light of high costs associated with this PPP, which are unlikely to be covered by the predicted amount of future profits. It remains unclear why the Serbian government accepted a lower ratio of ownership stake, given the higher capital that will be invested into the project (EUR 280 million loan plus interest). The unreasonably high discretion entrusted to the foreign partner in creating the leased urban space and extracting profits from the BWP lacks justification in terms of developmental objectives. More concerning is the fact that the contract with EHC seems to be unconstitutional because it implies a de facto suspension of domestic laws in the area where the BWP is to be built for the next three decades. The city planning and development policy that rests on the presented features of this PPP demonstrates a strong disregard for equal moral concern for all citizens. Disputable entrepreneurship and uncertain productivity may outweigh citizenship and undermine fairness as a principle of good governance—which implies that people should receive their “fair share” of the collective benefits and burdens [68] (p. 17)—by making the benefits from the success of the BWP available only to the foreign investor and a tiny minority of Belgradians, while the loan burden is passed on to generations to come.

The next move in legalising the BWP was the creation of a special-purpose spatial plan, which merely described the investor’s master plan. This plan anticipated various problems, such as traffic jams and high levels of segregation, but it did not propose solutions. The spatial plan was conceived in contravention of state law for urban areas and against the public interest because the cost of preparing the future building site rose in the meantime from the initially announced EUR 60 to 480 million, with another increase of up to EUR 790 million in the final version of the spatial plan [53]. The Special Purpose Area Spatial Plan was published on the website of the Republic Agency for Spatial Planning in October 2014 [69], the same month that the public debate regarding the project design took place. During the public debate, the Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts (SANU) submitted a list of official complaints against the BWP [70]. However, in less than two months, towards the end of December 2014, the government body to which the complaints had been addressed was abolished, its competences transferred to the Ministry of Construction. SANU, for its part, never received an answer to its complaints [71].

3.1.2. The Master Plan of Belgrade 2021 (2016)

The Serbian parliament adopted the Belgrade Waterfront special law (lex specialis) in April 2015, regulating the expropriation and building permit issuance procedures. This marked the final step in creating an (il)legal framework for the BWP. The Master Plan of Belgrade 2021 (2003) defined the entire Sava Amphitheatre strictly as a transportation hub [72]. Throughout much of the second half of the twentieth century, the idea of relocating the railway junction from its current location featured in planning documentation. However, the BWP master plan (Figure 3) clearly contradicted the requirements of the Master Plan of Belgrade 2021 (2003), necessitating thorough amendments—even on a conceptual level. The duty of city managers is not to simply inform citizens about policy alternatives and their plausible consequences, but also to discuss with the public the purpose and wider developmental context of an urban project [73] (p. 156). Yet, here, the city officials refused a freedom of information request made by the grassroots initiative Don’t Let Belgrade D(r)own (Ne da(vi)mo Beograd, in Serbian) to access the BWP master plan, which had previously been widely circulated in the media, claiming that the plan did not actually exist [53]. While the media promoted a one-sided, biassed image of the alleged benefits of the BWP, the dissenting voices of public figures, scholars, professionals, and experts gathered in Don’t Let Belgrade D(r)own remained unheard, regardless of several protests and public debates that took place advocating for citizens’ participation in creating urban development policy. The indirect silencing of opposing arguments eroded the integrity of public debate from the outset and raised serious doubts about the good intentions of the city government in letting the public have a say. In addition, the public hearing was organised in the midst of summer holidays, at noon on a workday, likely with the intention to avoid anticipated public criticism. From the perspective of good governance principles, even more concerning was the decision by the city authorities to prohibit the recording of the debate, which lasted several hours, with more than 1200 written admonitions [53].

The amended, new Master Plan of Belgrade 2021 was adopted in March 2016. It provides a projected framework, according to which, the vision for the city centre and the Sava Amphitheatre is as follows: “Belgrade’s central zone will remain the space for the main central city activities, with a largely complete functional and physical form, although requiring a complex urban revitalisation (economic, social and physical) as well as higher standards of quality [16] (p. 17)”. The new Master Plan of Belgrade also recommends “respect for the existing developed areas of the city and realistic assessment of physical possibility for further intervention in the city” [16] (p. 19). In one of the “essential principles” of the BWP, the investor also claims that the new district is to be an extension, rather than an isolated island, in the existing urban fabric [3]. A comparative analysis of these claims, alongside visual presentations of the BWP, meaning the publicly displayed models of the project, clearly shows that the project stands in contradiction with even the amended legal framework, namely the Master Plan of Belgrade and the existing physical infrastructure. Indeed, the displayed physical model of Belgrade Waterfront omits Belgrade’s characteristic topography and the image specific to its urban landscape. Instead, the model prominently features only a single structure—the skyscraper—a mixed residential and business tower. In different projections of the area, this building is shown in various shapes and at somewhat different locations, even though, as the tallest structure of the BWP, it is certain to become a future landmark, one of the city’s main reference points. For this reason, a change in plans and the withdrawal of the spatial development recommendations occurred, citing the guidance of special studies, such as The Study of high-rise buildings of Belgrade (2010), that “extremely high facilities, higher than 150 metres, should not be built in Belgrade” [75].

3.2. Searching for Alternative Practises

Given that one of the main goals of this research is to gain an insight into alternative spatial practises from a period in which financially, organisationally, and politically challenging housing projects were also undertaken, attention was paid to the period of socialist Yugoslavia (1945–1991). The peak of Yugoslav housing production occurred during the mid-1970s, when the housing industry produced around 150,000 homes a year [76], and investments in housing production reached up to 25% of total national income [77]. Through a critical examination of selected, particularly insightful achievements of the socialist socio-spatial development, specific innovative impulses for the novel architectural and urban models have emerged as particularly significant from the aspect of urban landscape comprehensiveness and dynamism.

The Yugoslav model of socialism generated a lived experience common to all societies organised through a system of planned economy, yet in many aspects it departed from the shared experiences of other socialist countries. From the early 1950s, the implemented concept of self-management resulted in decentralisation and significant departures from the Soviet model of state governance. Additionally, due to cultural and economic openness to both developed and developing countries, a remarkable part of the population experienced unprecedented social and spatial mobility. The infusion of market mechanisms and economic reform from 1965 further pushed the social system towards a market economy, opening the door to social stratification, alien to the communist ideology of an egalitarian society. Around 1968, this caused a wave of severe criticism and general discontent, particularly among students and leftist intellectuals. Much the same as in other European countries, the middle class in Yugoslavia became a particularly prominent driving force of modernisation during the thirty years after World War II. As the result of rapid industrial growth and the new division of labour and social power, the middle strata of society gradually developed in the production and services sectors, encompassing twenty five percent of the active population in the early 1980s [78]. This process followed patterns of social differentiation and stratification similar to those in other modern industrial societies but had particularities common to all socialist economies and distinct to Yugoslav self-management. However, by the early 1980s, the middle strata faced stalled social development, and their earlier aspirations for rapid progress gradually gave way to regression, apathy, and hopelessness [78].

The Case of New Belgrade and Its Central Zone

Immediately after World War II, the period of reconstruction of the severely damaged country began. In parallel with this process, the construction of New Belgrade, a modern socialist city on the left bank of the Sava, began in the swampland between Belgrade and Zemun. It was a highly saturated alluvial plain, sparsely built, and apparently an empty space, burdened by a legacy of war (it had been part of the Austrian–Hungarian Monarchy until 1918 and the quisling Independent State of Croatia during World War II) [79]. The construction of New Belgrade followed its initial concept (1946–1948), conceived by the prominent Yugoslav town planner and architect Nikola Dobrović and the team from the Institute for Urban Planning [80]. The General Plan of Belgrade adopted in 1950 (Figure 4) envisaged it as a city for 1,000,000 inhabitants, a unique traffic and functional whole, with deep green penetrations from the surroundings and a discontinuous industrial ring. The largest project conceived by this plan was the construction of New Belgrade, which occupied a central position on the entire territory of the city and was intended to house many important public buildings, as well as an area for new residential construction [9]. The plan for New Belgrade, designed for 250,000 inhabitants, was adopted in 1959, after experts selected and harmonised the results of an all-Yugoslav architecture competition [11,81]. The main premise in the urban development of New Belgrade as the new city centre “located and built between two completely formed historical entities” was “the spirit of functionalism” and the implementation of the principles of the Athens Charter [11] (p. 119). Positioned between two rivalling concepts of modernisation during the Cold War, it developed as a dialectical suspension of both paradigms [81,82].

The Regulation Plan of New Belgrade (1962) marked the final outcome of a long process of New Belgrade’s postwar urban planning [81]. The plan shaped the Central Zone of New Belgrade (CZNBg) as the core of the new, modern city, covering an area of approximately 250 hectares and intended to accommodate around 40,000 inhabitants [83]. The plan’s authors, Milutin Glavički and Uroš Martinović, along with a team of planners from the Urban Planning Institute of Belgrade—Leonid Lenarčić, Milosav Mitić, and Dušan Milenković—developed a distinctive urban concept based on an orthogonal urban grid, with a monumental axis stretching from the Presidency of the Government to the Railway Station, flanked by six large residential blocks. The CZNBg was finally conceived and built as a high-standard housing estate. The distinctive spatial concept was structured around an orthogonal urban matrix, featuring a system of three large central squares (Blocks 24–26) and six expansive residential blocks on the periphery (Blocks 21–23 and 28–30). After Block 21 was planned and built as a settlement for a neighbourhood unit of 10,000 inhabitants (1958, 1962–1966), a series of competitions were announced for the other five residential blocks [79].

Figure 4. General Plan of Belgrade, Miloš Somborski, 1950, detail. Source: [84].

Figure 4. General Plan of Belgrade, Miloš Somborski, 1950, detail. Source: [84].

Block 21 included a cluster of six 16-storey skyscrapers, a 24-storey tower of single-person apartments (which was never built), and two 10-storey buildings, each 286 metres long, lining the major boulevards. Within the block, two primary schools, two kindergartens, a community centre, and an electric substation were constructed, along with a lower residential structure that formed a 980 metre-long meander, four storeys high. The planning and construction dynamics of the four corner blocks (Blocks 21, 23, 28 and 30), each covering approximately 20 hectares, clearly reveal the changing housing standards in socialist Yugoslavia over time. The initial model of Block 21 was subsequently reprogrammed based on the results of its implementation, adapting to ongoing social transformations and future expectations. As a result, following unprecedented economic growth and rising living standards, the estimated number of inhabitants steadily decreased—from the initial 10,000 planned for all the corner blocks to 6,000 proposed for Block 30 in 1967 [85,86]. For the purpose of this study, two corner blocks, Block 28 and Block 30, are distinguished as representatives of the final phase of the interrupted socialist development and the epitome of the highlights and limits of socialist growth, fuelled by the market economy in the period of late socialism.

Block 28 (1965, built 1967–1974). The spatial concept of the Central Zone of New Belgrade was elaborated in the detailed urban plans, which was also the case with one of its corner parts—Block 28 (Figure 5). The Detailed Urban Plan for Block 28, adopted in 1965, outlined the most important features of the block. In terms of population, this meant that Block 28 would be designed for 7000 residents and achieve a housing density of 360 inhabitants/ha [87]. Communications in the block were organised in such a way that motorised traffic was to take place around the perimeter of the block, while the interior was reserved for pedestrians and for supply vehicles, ambulances and fire trucks. Only functional pedestrian communications were firmly defined in the Plan, while further development of open spaces was intended for public competitions. In morphological terms, it is interesting that most of the objects in Block 28 had a similar geometry to the objects in other blocks in the Central Zone, for example, Blocks 21 and 30. However, their composition was always different, creating specific spatial relationships. As well as in almost all residential blocks in the Central Zone of New Belgrade, semi-enclosed and intimate spaces for residents have been created inside the blocks, while their edges offer open views towards the rivers, the lowlands and the surrounding terrain. Likewise, it was important to design the silhouette of the Central Zone in relation to further views towards the complex, that is “to obtain a well conceived outline from distant vistas” [83] (p. 86).

By fulfilling the criteria of providing 1 parking space per apartment, and providing 13 square metres of green space per resident, optimal standards of motorisation and recreation at the time were met in this block. The internal organisation of the block envisaged facilities for social, cultural and artistic functions, for supply, sports and recreation, i.e., for functions that enabled the creation of a comprehensive social and spatial community. Special care was taken not to create a limited, hermetic space, but one intended for a wider community. This goal was achieved by positioning the centre of the community, as well as some of the sports and retail facilities, on pedestrian communication routes leading to neighbouring blocks. Along with the detailed urban plan for Block 28, the Belgrade City Assembly adopted the premise that this area should be designed and built as a whole, and that each separate building, as well as open spaces in the block, should be the subject of public architectural competitions. The announcement of these competitions was to be the obligation of the investor, who would also obtain the land through a public competition. Ensuring the highest quality of design and construction was to be a guarantee of further activation of the Central Zone of New Belgrade [83,87].

Block 30 (1963, 1967, 1973, built 1975–1979). The first detailed urban plan of the block was delivered in March 1963, estimated for the population of 7318 inhabitants and the housing density of 359 inhabitants/ha. Four years later, in January 1967, the New Belgrade Land Development Public Agency engaged architect Uroš Martinović to realise the new and extended detailed urban plan. Together with the team of young collaborators and his former students, Darko Marušić, Milenija Marušić, Petar Gajčanin, and Borislav Stojkov, he introduced the new concept aiming to encompass the special category of high-standard dwelling units and the estimated number of inhabitants was accordingly reduced to 6000, that is, 302 inhabitants/ha [85,88]. After public pressure, political decisions stopped the ambitious project of Block 30 and once again changed the course of its development. The new plans were delivered by 1973 through the cooperation of Uroš Martinović with two business associations, “Inpros” and “Jingrap”. The number of inhabitants was first increased to 10,500, but finally settled on 7700, the number of apartments doubled (2470) and the housing density raised to 414 inhabitants/ha [89]. The prolonged duration of its realisation caused significant changes in its planning and architectural design, making the process a reflection of major political and socio-economic shifts in a radical and insightful manner.

According to the initial analysis of the revised project assignment from 1967, the new standard is supposed to be a minimum of 30 square metres of building gross surface per inhabitant and 10–12 square metres per inhabitant for open green and recreation areas. The smallest apartment in the whole estate was planned to be the 2-room (max 15%) and the largest 7 ½-room unit (max 5%) [90]. Segregation of pedestrian and vehicular traffic remained the most distinguishing feature of this block; all parking places were located on the lower level (74.00) and all pedestrian walkways were organised on the upper level (77.00), without intersections (terrain is mostly on the level 75.50). Garage space is directly connected with apartments and most walkways are covered so that pedestrians are protected from sun and rain [86]. Similarly to other blocks in the Central Zone, the special attention of architects was paid to landscaping and greenery [91] (Figure 6). Following the downplaying of the whole enterprise, the planting material was correspondingly reduced; yet today, in times of the new building fever, densification, and public land appropriation, generous parking facilities and the vast open space in the middle of the block appear as an ultimate luxury.

4. Discussion

As pointed out by numerous authors and concisely described by Dobrović, the main feature of Belgrade’s genius loci is its natural location at the confluence of two large rivers and “the greatness of the broad articulation with which nature knew how to bring together the plains, the surfaces of water, the slopes towards the Danube and Sava in the shape of two semicircular amphitheatres, with a common elevation on the summit as the natural dominant on both sides, with a background that gradually rises and connects with the spherical surface of the sky, without any filigreeing and pettiness” [92] (p. 2). In significant critical texts from sixty years ago, dealing with the spatial development of Belgrade, there was a concern that the striking natural location and landscape could be degraded by hasty and unplanned construction. Future urban development and the plastic sculpting of the right bank of the Sava and Danube rivers in Belgrade were represented as the biggest challenge, described as the most difficult and sensitive task in terms of a fully studied and designed composition of environmental elements that should be in spatial harmony [93]. Both enterprises that we have discussed here—BW (from 2014) and CZNBg (from 1960)—were conceived as megaprojects of state/national interest, whose implementation fundamentally altered the urban landscape of Belgrade and New Belgrade. Each caused lasting consequences by responding, in diverse ways, to the difficult and sensitive task.

4.1. Recognition of Post-Socialist Paradigm

The Belgrade Waterfront complex currently occupies 177 hectares of land on the right bank of the Sava River, with plans to expand the entire area by about 330 hectares through completed and planned purchases of surrounding land on both banks [19]. The cost of this “urban renewal” development was originally estimated at EUR 3.5 billion. So far, it has been built as a predominantly residential settlement, with office space and the largest shopping mall in the region. This complex spans about 1.8 million square metres of building gross area (BGA), with ca. 9000 apartments for 14,000 residents and 290,000 square metres of office space [74,94]. The complex also includes facilities such as shops, restaurants, a school and a kindergarten, with a 2.4 hectare green space, Central Park, at the heart of the settlement. Within the Belgrade Waterfront, there is also the tallest building in the region, the Belgrade Tower, or Kula Belgrade, a 168 metre-high, 42-story building, with a BGA of 47,500 square metres. Designed by the renowned firm Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, it houses 220 “branded apartments” and a 120-room hotel with many appropriate amenities. The building is promoted as an “iconic landmark” that “houses luxury”, but also as “a portal between the river and the centre”, engaging public open space with public art programmes [95].

As shown in this study, Belgrade Waterfront has been a controversial project from the very beginning. Critics view Belgrade Waterfront as a joint endeavour between authoritarian governance and a neoliberal economic agenda, raising public concerns over the transparency of the process, social and spatial inclusiveness, respect for sustainability principles, and finally the prioritisation of public well-being over private interests [61]. Among the opponents of the project are activists from the civic sector, professionals, and independent media, who highlight issues such as the privileged status of the private investor, the lack of transparency of a project that radically transforms a large part of the city, the usurpation of land ownership and planning procedures, the degradation of the distinct silhouette of the old city within an exceptional natural location, and a whole corpus of wrongdoings, including an illegal demolition during preparation for the construction, elusive financial flows, etc. [15,19,47,48,49,50,51,52,53,54,55,58,59,61].

The neoliberal shift in housing provision has had comparable effects globally, with similar large-scale projects found across Europe. The closest example is the Belarusian Minsk Mir Masterplan, introduced as the largest residential–commercial urban development in European city centres. Based on the same investment-attraction strategies that seek to benefit from transnational real estate financing (Russian and UAE-based investors, and Serbia-originated BK Group), this plan also results in grids of luxury flats that increasingly dominate the city skyline, similarly influenced by the urban developments in Dubai and Abu Dhabi [96]. The construction of the complex began in 2015, on the former city airport site, covering an area of about 318 hectares. It is organised around the project for International Financial Centre (110 hectares), comprising residential high-rise buildings and villas, estimated to house more than 35,000 inhabitants, a shopping area, and a leisure and entertainment centre, as well as a sports recreational area and public gardens. The new housing district is extensively advertised through the public media as “a city aspiring towards tomorrow” while the architecture of the block is described as “emotionally close to the development of the coastal strip of Dubai” [97]. In her recent study, Dasha Kuletskaya argues that this project is the paradigmatic case of how building codes and regulations governing certain aspects of housing delivery can be overcome through political intervention by an autocratic head of state, directly pointing out the role of architecture in normalising the legal reforms that have facilitated the commodification of urban housing [98].

Although significantly more architecturally refined, projects realised in the capitalist centre suffer from the same deficits. Such is the case of the Battersea Power Station (BPS) urban development project in south London. This landscape of gentrification is part of the larger area stretching from Battersea Park to Lambeth Bridge on the south bank of the Thames. The core of this spatial endeavour is a brick coal-fired power station, a historical landmark designed by architects Sir Giles Gilbert Scott and Filton J. Theo Halliday (control room’s interior). It was built in several stages, from 1929 to 1955; the western wing, building A, was opened in 1933, and the eastern wing, Battersea B, was opened in 1955. In 1975, one part of the station was closed, and finally, it was fully closed in 1983. Although the building and surrounding land were sold the following year, 1984, serious development of the area began only when it became the property of a Malaysian consortium in 2012 [99,100]. This GBP 9 billion project is divided into eight parts, each designed by renowned architectural firms, including Foster + Partners and Gehry Partners, to name just two. When the project is completed, around 25,000 people will live and work on a 17-hectare site, in one of the “largest office, retail, leisure and cultural quarters […] with a new office district with over 278,709.12 sq. metres of commercial space alongside new private and affordable homes” as well as “250 shops, cafés and restaurants, a theatre, hotel, medical centre and 7.7 ha of public space including 450 metres of river frontage and a public park on 2.43 ha” [101].

One of the criticisms of BPS urban development is focused on the issue of creating a new identity of space and placemaking within a highly aestheticised spatial concept. The new cultural narrative formed around it disperses any possible political criticism, implying that the BPS spatial intervention, implemented in a public–private partnership, is an undeniable way of performing contemporary spatial transformations. “More than implying a matter of elite taste in decor and interior design, aesthetics establishes the political conditions that allow for capital’s reproduction and amplification.” [99] (p. 612). Cultural and financial speculation, aesthetics, and a “rhetoric of sustainability and the ethos of creativity” [99] (p. 611) are employed in the BPS project to collectively create a superficial image of an urban paradise, erasing all previous cultural interpretations of the place [100].

The BWP is part of a long line of similar projects, dating back to the London Docklands. As part of a neoliberal approach to urban area development, European urban megaprojects, from 1997 onwards, were characterised by less democratic and more elite-driven priorities in the planning procedures. A new balance of power in urban areas was created in a new global context that has had an impact on the city’s fabric and society in general. Changes were taking place in the governing of urbanisation; public money was being redirected from social goals to investments in the housing market, and the labour market was also being restructured. Although the characteristics of urban megaprojects have transformed in the following decades, the basic logic has remained mostly the same. The projects occupy different areas, but they tend to expand, as in the case of the Docklands in Dublin, whose territory has expanded from 11 ha to 500 ha of the port area on both sides of the river. Some of these projects have had a narrative that is easily translated into short slogans that describe its desired outcome, such as “international meeting place” or “bridge to the future” (Donau City in Vienna). However, each of the carefully designed images hides projects that were a great risk for the public finances [102].

As pointed out by numerous authors, the present regime of financialised capitalism provides structurally enabling conditions for the emergence of such urban practises [61,98,103,104]. Investigating present spatial and governmental practises in post-socialist Serbia and the spatial outcome of capitalism as an instrumentalised societal order reveals the set of underlying mechanisms of neoliberal space production. Analysis of the formative period of BW planning and construction and the respective mode of governance shows the structural pitfalls behind the flag of city development under the neoliberal paradigm in the semi-periphery of global capitalism, resulting in severe missteps in many aspects of city transformation. Observed from the realm of economy, the BW development is a showcase of profit-based, public–private partnership in space production. By founding its inception on the privatisation of public land and public good, executed through a number of violated laws and regulations, the advantage of the concentrated financial infusion has gradually diminished. This is reflected in the realm of social reproduction and also has implications for social justice, cohesion, and community identity [61].

The recent work of the philosopher and critical theorist Nancy Fraser offers a particularly useful framework for the analysis of contemporary systemic social crises and the ongoing processes of commodification. Drawing from Fraser’s “expanded notion of capitalism” and her thesis that the capitalist mode of production is structurally predetermined to undermine its own necessary background conditions, the four main domains/realms of deterioration can be singled out: economy, social reproduction, nature and polity [105]. Of particular importance in this case is “capitalism’s ecological contradiction”: the predatory and extractive relation to nature that is immanent to this mode of production and is reflected through the complex processes of urban landscape degradation. Finally, the democratic deficit can be traced in the scope of polity and unethical governance, connecting the political crisis with the social, ecological, and economic crises. Respectively, for the purpose of this research, three corresponding fields for remediation could be singled out and marked as communal self-management, inclusive urban landscape, and ethical urban governance.

4.2. Learning from Socialist Paradigm

Local Communities: During the socialist period, the focus was on the design and construction of new settlements as a spatial, functional, organisational, societal, and aesthetic unit. New settlements were often considered perpetual construction sites due to the incomplete development of all the necessary facilities required to make vibrant communities pleasant to live in. The issue of building all necessary supporting facilities, such as elementary schools, kindergartens, shops, craft shops, pharmacies, health stations, playgrounds, parking lots, green spaces, social centres with reading rooms, cafés, etc., was extremely important [9].

Although New Belgrade blocks and other socialist-era neighbourhoods were designed to meet basic functions, they also aimed to foster local communities as the fundamental organisational units connected to higher levels in a social and spatial sense. In this way, the organisation of society, as well as the planning and design of its spatial structure, were brought into the same multifaceted, flexible discourse in which all elements were interconnected. This context was particularly important in the formation of common open spaces within the blocks, which were the subject of public architectural competitions primarily intended to create inclusive spaces. It seems that the excellence of the architectural and urban planning profession was most visible at the lowest element of the spatial and social unit in the urban structure, as shown by numerous practical examples, especially within the most protected area of the Central Zone of New Belgrade.

Urban Landscape: New Belgrade was conceived from the start as a whole and, it could be said, based on Dobrović’s concept of a “city landscape”. Despite being formulated in 1954, his theoretical reflection is still equally fresh and relevant, as it relied on an integral approach in achieving an organic quality of space, continuity and movement, a new kind of spatiality. In his writings, Dobrović explicitly connects the equality in space quality with created social values: “No more will just some of the representative parts of the city be the objects of experiencing sublime spatial impressions, but all city space and its surroundings” [106] (p. 3). He appeals for the unified, continual urban tissue to be perceived as a motion picture: produced by the cohesive forces of the collective will, it should provide an unbroken progression of spatial units that perpetually entwine and unite [41,79,106]. Dobrović’s thinking on the continual tissue of the socialist city on the left bank of the Sava River as a comprehensive and dynamic urban landscape was grounded in the fabric of the plan for New Belgrade. The original idea was further developed through detailed plans for housing blocks, with special attention paid to the formation of smaller-scale open spaces, the external contours of the blocks, and the overall views towards the environment and the horizon.

This is particularly evident in the landscape architectural arrangement of the inner courtyard of one of residential buildings in Block 28, with a plan in the shape of a meandering element, the “horseshoe”. The design was based on a winning competition entry by architects Olga Milićević Nikolić and Cveta Davičo in 1974, employing their innovative approach in shaping open spaces in residential areas, as well as small urban spaces [87]. Over time, the green space gained recognition from both the professional public and residents, due to the exceptional quality of recreational spaces and areas for passive rest, organised in between the firm and formal framework of prefabricated housing units. In this clash of different design approaches and concepts, Milićević and Davičo transposed, among others, Dobrović’s ideas of a dynamic city landscape [79], literally weaving the elements of space, continuity, movement and domestic life into one whole.

Urban Planning: The continuous chain of urban planning in Belgrade began with its General Plan from 1950. The planning process was conducted with complete transparency, allowing expert communities and the wider public to engage with and respond in a timely manner to the fundamental ideas presented in the detailed urban plans through various competitions, discussions, and exhibitions. In the first two decades of the elaboration of the General Plan from 1950, the plan was revised in the next decade, especially regarding changes to the traffic network; a plan for the relocation and reconstruction of the railway junction was also adopted. The process did not lead to significant changes but responded to the fluctuations of social and economic processes that occurred at that time [9].

The experts in the urban planning process achieved a high theoretical contribution and established high criteria in the architectural and urban planning profession at the time; many important issues were questioned and examined then. Also, the discourse of Yugoslav architecture, urban planning, and civil engineering was formed, along with the platforms for its promotions and actions. As shown in the case of Block 30, challenging and complex tasks were set before the architectural and planning professions, enabling the formation of new generations of experts who learned by collaborating with experienced colleagues within numerous design and urban planning teams [90].

Mitigating and eliminating the negative consequences of harmful urban practises was the impetus for the development of regional planning in the late 1950s. The development of regulatory urban plans attempted to determine the purpose of plot areas, housing densities, construction methods, and heights of residential buildings, in addition to introducing stricter discipline in the implementation of urban planning procedures. The contribution to continuous planning, through the establishment of local communities as basic units in the urban structure, created a vertical spatial and social organisation, connecting settlements and district and city centres along with their functions.

Despite the difficult struggle against unresolved funding issues that caused the aforementioned problems, it remains significant that there was an awareness of them, as these topics were discussed in professional journals, scientific conferences, and amongst the broader public. In the mid-1960s, public professional discourse also focused on the phenomenon of construction, specifically, the production of housing for the market, and the issue of divergent views between urban planners and housing developers. This was mostly reflected in the search for a balance between tendencies to achieve the highest possible housing density and to take economic standards into account in the planning of residential settlements, on the one hand, and to maintain the aesthetic, functional, architectural, and urban quality of new settlements on the other [9].

Indeed, the shortcomings of modernist, functionalist urban planning under socialism accumulated during the 1960s and 1970s and were extensively discussed at the beginning of the 1980s. Beyond the more evident practical miscarriages, the major systemic threats to the realisation of spatial plans through the concept of self-management were recognised as liberalism and bureaucratic dogmatism [107,108]. The profound critique was articulated by two planning thinkers whose expertise resonated far beyond the local context. The immanent Marxist critique was offered by Ranko Radović, arguing that the growing discontent with both theoretical and practical aspects of urbanism was too easily and too radically attached to the discipline alone, overlooking the impact of social, historical, ideological, economic, and many other realities [109]. On the other hand, Miloš Perović’s criticism was directed against both “pragmatic” and “romantic” town planning [11,12] and aspired “to place town planning on a sounder scientific base without sacrificing the creativity which former city builders brought to bear on their subject” [110] (p. 51).

In practice, due to a lack of resources, the complex and dynamic plans for New Belgrade remained only partly realised for decades, turning the thoroughly planned neighbourhood units into dormitories. The deficit of commercial, cultural, and leisure amenities was overcome only in the 2000s, following the post-socialist shift towards a neoliberal economy and bringing a large influx of business and commercial activities, together with severe challenges across social, spatial, and ecological realms [86,104,111]. Acknowledging the numerous accounts that emphasise the pitfalls and failures of modernist urban planning during the socialist period, this study joins the increasing number of scientific insights that point out its outstanding achievements and current relevance [112,113] etc. Questions of the implementation and feasibility of the proposed scientific models go beyond the scope of this work. However, further discussion on the possibilities of integrating the socialist planning experience with current urban planning practises, in order to achieve more equitable and sustainable urban development, can be seen as a possible future direction for research.

5. Conclusions

The socio-spatial criteria, which mark alternative architectural and urban models, such as the here-presented socialist and neoliberal models, aim to increase expert knowledge in establishing more egalitarian socio-spatial practises and more inclusive urban landscapes. The essence of cities has been expressed for centuries through the creation of a new value by summing up a multitude of heterogeneous parts into a harmony of opposites. Through capitalist laws of accumulation [114], the global process of de-urbanisation systematically transforms land ownership patterns so that entire urban neighbourhoods become the property of private corporations. Thus, what was small and public in the history of cities becomes large and private in today’s urban centres [115]. In that context, the experience of socialist space production provides valuable insights and gives impetus to tackle the fundamental issues detected in post-socialist, but also in global capitalist urban development.

In this research, unethical urban governance is comprehended as a threat to our right to the urban [116] and also as the agent of degradation of the urban landscape in different aspects. The explanatory potential of the notion of unethical urban governance for this study lies in its capacity to address a wide range of actions, from strictly illegal to morally impermissible, by fundamental standards of the town planning profession and ethical urban governance. Political decision-makers often justify the implementation of public policy goals in an ethically improper fashion by arguing that the expected outcome will benefit the whole community, or at least the majority of citizens. The intolerable and impermissible actions discussed here were shown as examples of unethical urban governance and, as the case of the BWP suggests, as those that blurred the boundaries between the legal and the illicit in performing public duties in the context of city planning and development policy. Due to the irreversible character of the BWP implementation in urban space, since it led to the construction of a luxury city district that was mainly affordable only to a tiny wealthy minority, the whole enterprise has resulted in the transformation of the urban landscape that has shown multiple elements of degradation.

As demonstrated in our analysis, in the best practice of the socialist paradigm, landscape and urban landscape were organic elements in the planning and building process, across all levels and scales. Therefore, careful and thoughtful handling during any spatial interventions in the urban landscape should be the standard. The complexity, comprehensiveness, layering, and sensitivity of the urban landscape require the same approach in the research and transformation of space. Through a critical examination of town planning procedures, architectural production, and the professional milieu, while respecting the formation of the urban landscape from the socialist period, we have singled out and interpreted the insights of three fields of action: communal self-management, ethical urban governance, and inclusive urban landscape. In particular, this study points out strategies that have the capacity to be a response to social and environmental challenges, such as establishing a continuous chain of urban planning; nurturing generations of experts; establishing transparent planning and building procedures; securing public participation; and considering local communities as spatial, functional, organisational, societal and aesthetical units; among others. Consequently, this could be the basis for further investigations. However, the transformation of space and society requires the translation of disciplinary and interdisciplinary knowledge and the corresponding strategies into future practice. It should be a context for (re)establishing more just and more emancipated practises that might lead to corresponding forms of socio-spatial justice.