Church of Christ the Saviour in Pristina – Continued Calls for the Violation of the Religious Rights of the Serbian Orthodox Church

Alexander Radovanović, Attorney at law, Chief Legal Advisor of the Diocese of Raška and Prizren

In a recent article titled “Chauvinism Hidden Behind Religion: The Case of the Church in the Courtyard of the University of Prishtina,” published on April 3, 2025, by the Octopus Institute, author Gurakuç Kuçi presents several contentious and factually incorrect assertions regarding the Cathedral Church of Christ the Saviour of the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC) in Pristina. Kuçi provocatively portrays this church as an ideological tool of ethnic dominance rather than a legitimate place of worship. This narrative unjustly labels the displaced Serb population of Pristina as occupiers and aggressors, while depicting those seeking to erase this religious site—and, by extension, any trace of Serb presence in Pristina—as victims.​

The Cathedral Church of Christ the Saviour was constructed in the early 1990s following a petition from numerous Orthodox believers who lacked a central place of worship. Prior to this, efforts to build a church before World War II were thwarted when the partially constructed building was demolished during the war and the land subsequently confiscated. Thus, the need for an Orthodox church in Pristina predates World War II but was impeded by both wartime destruction and later communist repression.​

The construction of the current church was initiated not by the Milošević regime, but by the then Bishop of Raška and Prizren, later Patriarch Pavle, at a time when approximately 40,000 Serbs resided in Pristina. Building permits and the site were secured in accordance with the legal norms of that period. It is believed that this church is one of the few structures in Kosovo that underwent all legal procedures, with undisputed permits and land ownership both before and after the war. Labeling this consecrated religious site as “chauvinistic” or an “instrument of occupation” grossly misrepresents its true religious purpose and undermines fundamental freedoms of religion guaranteed by international conventions and Kosovo’s own laws on religious freedom.​

Although left unfinished due to wartime conflicts and subsequent events, the Cathedral Church of Christ the Saviour remains a consecrated religious site significant to the Serbian Orthodox Church. Contrary to Kuçi’s depiction, this church is neither unique nor disproportionately large compared to other religious structures in Pristina. The city also hosts a significantly larger Catholic cathedral, and a substantial central mosque is under construction, indicating the city’s potential for a multiconfessional character where the Orthodox community rightfully expects equal treatment and protection of its religious sites.​

Kuçi’s argument rests on the premise that in a city now devoid of Serbs, such a structure is unnecessary and symbolizes “Serbian occupation and dominance.” However, he fails to acknowledge that the near absence of Serbs in Pristina is a result of post-war persecution and unpunished violence against them, as well as obstacles to their return. In these circumstances, this church stands as a witness to the repression of 40,000 individuals, whose fate the church itself shares. Its disappearance would erase the memory of the grievous crime committed against these displaced Pristina residents, which may have been the intent behind numerous post-war attempts to remove it.​

It is important to emphasize that multiple confirmations have established that the church was built entirely legally on land owned by the SOC. Kosovo authorities have made several attempts to contest this after the war, but without success. The most recent such attempt concluded in 2017 when the university’s request was dismissed. Following this failure, another legal process was initiated, which has seen procedural delays for several years. However, the initiation of legal proceedings does not in itself indicate any issues with the church. Anyone can initiate proceedings, but the situation on the ground can only change following a final court decision.​

Kuçi’s invocation of the Fourth Geneva Convention and the Hague Convention to assert the alleged illegality of the church’s construction represents a complete misinterpretation of these legal instruments and another attempt to politicize the church. The SOC did not expropriate anything from anyone, nor was the Church of Christ the Saviour built for military purposes, rendering any such claims baseless.​

Considering that the church was built in response to the wishes of Pristina’s Orthodox residents, who had lived in the city for centuries, the true intentions behind Kuçi’s article become apparent, despite his references to international law. He labels his former fellow citizens, who were expelled from Pristina after the war, as occupiers, and designates their religious site—which has endured years of desecration and attempts at destruction, and stands as a symbol of the violation of Orthodox Christians’ religious rights in Kosovo—as a political-military object that should be removed to eliminate any reminder of this heinous crime.​

Furthermore, Kuçi’s claims significantly overlook the numerous documented violations of religious freedoms and property rights of the Serbian Orthodox community by Kosovo institutions. Kosovo authorities have repeatedly prevented religious services at the Cathedral Church of Christ the Saviour, blatantly violating both international norms on religious freedoms and obligations undertaken within Annex V of the Ahtisaari Plan, which explicitly guarantees freedom of religion and the SOC’s property rights. These incidents have been highlighted in reports on religious freedoms by the U.S. State Department and other international bodies, making them indisputable to the civilized world.​

Individuals who have previously addressed this issue have similarly suggested that the church be simply taken from the Serbian Orthodox Church and converted into a museum. In May 2022 and 2023, Kosovo authorities unlawfully prohibited the Diocese of Raška and Prizren from holding services for the Ascension holiday. Each of these bans was executed without any written decision and with vague references to security reasons. These systemic prohibitions constitute serious violations of fundamental religious rights, such as the right to freedom of assembly and worship, which are cornerstone international norms on religious freedoms in the democratic world.​

The situation is further exacerbated by numerous attacks and abuses the church has endured over the years. After the 1999 war, contrary to Kuçi’s claims, there were several armed attacks on the church, and an attempt to demolish it was thwarted. When physical destruction failed, the church was subsequently turned into a public dump and toilet. Efforts by the SOC to clean and protect the church were met with political demonstrations and further desecration of the building through graffiti and the filming of an obscene video clip within the church grounds. These actions stand as stark indicators of deep disrespect and hostility not only towards the Serbian Orthodox community but also towards the broader Christian tradition. The absence of an adequate response from Kosovo authorities to such incidents has fostered an atmosphere of intolerance and ongoing pressure. As such, the issue of the Church of Christ the Saviour is an entirely legitimate and pressing topic within the broader discourse on religious freedoms in Kosovo.

In March 2025, the television station KOHА broadcast a dialogue between two Kosovar Albanian professors in which it was openly stated that the Church of Christ the Saviour should have been destroyed after the war. Such incendiary rhetoric not only fans the flames of interethnic animosity but also threatens the very fabric of coexistence among Kosovo’s diverse communities. As has become customary, not a single level of Kosovo’s political or intellectual elite responded to this provocation. This further heightens the Serbian community’s concern over deepening marginalization, the erasure of cultural heritage, historical revisionism, and the creeping transformation of Kosovo into an exclusively ethnic Albanian state.

Programs like KOHА’s segment, as well as Kuçi’s article, attempt to cloak nationalism and intolerance in the guise of quasi-academic and quasi-legal discourse, making them even more dangerous than overt expressions of hatred, which the Serbian Orthodox Church has endured for years. Mr. Kuçi’s institute purports to fight hybrid warfare, yet it employs the very methods it claims to oppose, targeting a religious institution already under constant pressure from Albanian nationalists and extremists. To be entirely precise: portraying the Serbian Orthodox Church—an institution repeatedly subjected to attacks, threats, and denial of basic rights—as an aggressor is itself a textbook example of hybrid warfare, the kind being observed globally in various conflict zones.

Particularly troubling is the claim that the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) “protected Serbian Orthodox heritage”. The historical record, numerous photographs, and international reports clearly show that this assertion is far from reality. Serbian Orthodox churches were destroyed by some members of the KLA both during and after the conflict, and many defiled Christian churches and cemeteries in Kosovo still bear KLA graffiti and marks of vandalism. The treatment of Serbian Orthodox heritage, particularly medieval Serbian churches, has been thoroughly documented in various international reports on the March 2004 pogrom and the violence and destruction that followed the war. Cynically portraying the perpetrators as protectors represents yet another deployment of hybrid methods—within a single, highly problematic article.

In sum, Kuçi’s article casts his former fellow citizens—who lived in Pristina for centuries—as collective occupiers. It portrays their desecrated, nearly destroyed house of worship—a symbol of their suffering and of repeated assaults on their rights—as an emblem of occupation, implying that it must be eliminated by any means necessary. Reading between the lines of this established “newspeak,” a language long predating Kuçi himself, the article implies that this church—this living monument to the mass expulsion of Serbs from Pristina—should either be destroyed or repurposed, so that no trace remains of that post-war atrocity.

 

The international community and diplomatic actors must insist on the full protection of religious freedoms and the rights of the Serbian community. Only through such commitment can Kosovo build a sustainable peace and stability rooted in respect for the heritage of all communities and all citizens, regardless of their ethnic or religious background. The question of protecting the Serbian Orthodox Church and its heritage in Kosovo was a key component of the 2007 Ahtisaari Comprehensive Proposal, which Kosovo accepted as binding in the eyes of the international community, as well as in legislation derived from that plan and the latest obligations under the Brussels and Ohrid Agreements of 2023.

All of the above demonstrates that these are not imaginary issues, but fundamental problems within Kosovo’s society. Resolving them will be a litmus test of Pristina’s civilizational maturity. If anyone believes Kosovo can achieve meaningful progress without genuinely fulfilling the fundamental values of European and democratic civilization, then all in that society must ask themselves where it is truly heading and what values it wishes to promote.

If the values expressed in Kuçi’s article are those being pursued, then they are not values that can lead any society toward a goal worth striving for.

In response to the article by Gurakuç Kuçi, published on April 3, 2025:
“Chauvinism Hidden Behind Religion: The Case of the Church in the Courtyard of the University of Prishtina” – Octopus Institute Chauvinism Hidden Behind Religion: The Case of the Church in the Courtyard of the University of Prishtina – Octopus Institute