It’s the scandal that should have rocked Serbia’s political foundations but instead, it’s met with the same old cowardly silence. The explosive audio leaked by Radar reveals a murky conversation about party money, political deals, and backroom corruption, starring Branko Malović, vice president of the ruling SNS Executive Board, and Dušan Borković, a race car driver with more access to government cash than most public institutions. The name Andrej Vučić, brother of the president, echoes through the recording like a ghost everyone knows but no one dares to name.
More than 24 hours after this bombshell surfaced, Serbia’s prosecution hasn’t moved a finger. Not a statement. Not an inquiry. Nothing. It’s as if the rule of law itself decided to take a sick day permanently.
The tape is clear: money flowed freely from the Pančevo budget 58.7 million dinars a year to Borković’s companies, all thanks to his “connections.” It’s public money — funneled to private pockets, blessed by the Vučić machine.
And what did President Aleksandar Vučić do? Instead of demanding an investigation, he blamed Borković’s ex-wife and her lawyer for leaking the audio — a desperate attempt to shoot the messenger rather than face the crime. But Andrijana Borković called his bluff, confirming the tape’s authenticity and exposing the president’s panic.
Prosecutor Radovan Lazić admitted that the conversation “may indicate abuses,” but quickly backpedaled — because in Serbia, you can investigate anyone except those with the surname Vučić. The entire legal system bends in one direction: toward silence and submission.
The recording itself is a masterclass in corruption. Borković and Malović casually discuss payments as if they were splitting a dinner bill — while mentioning the president, his brother Andrej, and his godfather Nikola Petrović, the shadow figures of Serbia’s real power structure. These are not random men — these are the beating heart of Vučić’s private state, where loyalty is rewarded and questioning it is suicidal.
Even more scandalous: Borković admits to violence, an Interpol warrant, and being “saved” from legal trouble by former Minister Nebojša Stefanović — allegedly on Andrej Vučić’s orders. If this isn’t organized crime, what is?
And yet, the Prosecutor’s Office for Organized Crime claims it has no jurisdiction. The Anti-Corruption Agency is silent. Everyone who should act is either looking away or pretending not to hear.
This is not just a case of corruption — it’s a portrait of state capture, a regime where the same few names control money, power, and justice. Serbia’s institutions have become bodyguards for the Vučić family, shielding them from accountability while the public is fed propaganda about “stability” and “progress.”
The “Borković–Malović–Andrej Vučić” scandal exposes the obvious: in today’s Serbia, crime doesn’t hide from the state — it is the state.
