Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Promises in the air: Golob and Fajon's parachutes for Gaza

On June 11, 2024, Prime Minister Robert Golob and Foreign Minister Tanja Fajon announced, at a heavily publicized event before the United Nations, that our country would organize a parachute collection drive to deliver humanitarian aid to Gaza by air.

As humanitarian needs increase daily, the moment had finally arrived for our small but determined nation to make a tangible, practical contribution towards alleviating the crisis.

Today, however, we've learned that the Golob–Fajon duo has collected exactly as many parachutes as the Luka Mesec–Simon Maljevec duo has built promised non-profit rental apartments.

0 (in words: zero).

Monday, July 28, 2025

Did Slovenia Just Manufacture a Reason to Block Austria’s NATO Path?

On July 27, 2025, Austrian police conducted a high-profile raid on a so-called “antifascist” student camp at the Peršman Museum in Carinthia, organized by the Club of Slovenian Students in Vienna.

The raid was carried out by Austria’s Office for the Prosecution of Extremism, with over 30 officers, helicopters, drones, and police dogs deployed. Austrian police say they were acting on suspected administrative violations related to illegal camping. However, resistance from participants — some of whom attempted to block access to the museum — escalated the situation. Three individuals were arrested; one person was lightly injured.

Participants were described in Austrian and Slovenian media as affiliated with “antifascist” and communist-leaning groups. These groups, often associated with Antifa, maintain strong ideological links to Slovenia’s WWII titoist legacy and modern far-left identity politics.

Slovenia’s Overreaction?

What followed the raid was an unusually forceful response from the Slovenian government. A diplomatic note was sent to Austria. Ministers condemned the operation as “traumatic” and disproportionate. State-funded media and civil society actors immediately amplified the incident, invoking national trauma and anti-fascist identity.

This raises a compelling hypothesis: Was the event merely a local overreach by Austrian police — or a manufactured provocation used by Slovenia as a geopolitical tool?

The Bigger Picture: Austria and NATO

Austria has recently expressed interest in reconsidering its neutrality and potentially joining NATO. Membership requires unanimous ratification by all NATO members. This means Slovenia — a member since 2004 — could legally block Austria’s accession.

Creating a diplomatic crisis over a police incident tied to minority rights, “antifascist” memory, and national history would provide a ready-made moral pretext to withhold ratification — without openly stating geopolitical motives.

“We support Austria’s NATO membership in principle, but we cannot ratify while the Peršman incident remains unresolved and while Austria refuses to acknowledge its mistakes.”

The Playbook: Old Tricks in a New Era

Slovenia inherited from Yugoslavia a well-documented toolkit of soft-power provocations, diaspora activism, and ideological mobilization. State-linked NGOs and student organizations often blur the line between independent activism and foreign policy instruments.

Former political figures — Milan Kučan, Danilo Türk, and Zoran Janković — retain enormous informal influence and are known for their pro-Russian views. Notably, Zoran Janković received a medal of honor from Vladimir Putin, a fact widely reported and never renounced.

These networks continue to shape civil society narratives and government policy, especially around historical memory and foreign alignment.

The “antifascist” camp was reportedly supported by organizations with explicitly leftist and communist ideological roots. Their presence at the Peršman Museum aligns with a broader political message: Austria must remain neutral, sensitive, and subordinate to the moral legacy of antifascism — as defined by Slovenia’s radical circles.

Conclusion: A Strategic Incident in Russian Interest?

Even without direct evidence of coordination, the pattern is clear: a symbolic site, ideological actors, disproportionate police response, and a rapid Slovenian diplomatic escalation — all at a moment when Austria is reconsidering NATO membership.

It is essential to emphasize that this aggressive diplomatic posture does not reflect the will of the Slovenian people, but rather the foreign policy course of the current far-left government of Robert Golob. In contrast to Slovenia’s past cautious Atlanticism, Golob’s administration has adopted a foreign policy increasingly aligned with radical activism and embedded networks of pro-Russian influence.

In that context, the Peršman incident appears less like a tragic misunderstanding — and more like a deliberately engineered opportunity to serve a broader geopolitical goal: blocking Austria’s shift toward NATO and strengthening the Kremlin’s strategic buffer zone in Central Europe.

Saturday, July 26, 2025

ESOP: The Slovenian Way Back to Collective Communes

What if we took the idea of employee ownership and turned it into a bureaucratic time bomb with a hint of nostalgia for Yugoslav communist self-management? Welcome to Slovenia’s take on the ESOP.

Let’s imagine a real company — say, Pro Plus, the broadcaster behind Pop TV and Kanal A. Let’s assume it employs 270 people and is worth about €170 million. Now let’s walk through what would happen if it were to become a worker-owned cooperative, under the new legislation being pushed in Slovenia.

1. It's not optional — it's collective or nothing.

The law requires 75% of all employees to agree to form a cooperative. That’s 203 people out of 270. You can’t just invite your five best engineers or top-performing managers. It’s all in, or no deal.

2. Each worker pays… €300.

That’s the maximum legally allowed contribution per employee. So, these 203 folks scrape together a total of €60,900 to buy a company worth €170 million. Not a joke — that’s the model.

3. Ownership, in theory.

For their €300 each, every participating worker becomes a co-owner — equal share, equal say. That’s €837,438 of value per head, on paper. But without paying anything close to that amount.

4. One worker, one vote — no exceptions.

There’s no differentiation between seniority, performance, or contribution. The cleaner and the CEO get the same voting power. It’s pure equality, circa 1976.

5. You can’t sell your share.

Want out? Too bad. You can’t sell it on the open market. You can only leave the company, and then the cooperative buys it back — at a price it sets itself, not at market value. Hope you like internal valuation committees.

6. The catch: you're not actually an owner yet.

Here’s the twist: the cooperative doesn’t actually own the company — not until it pays the full €170 million. Where does that money come from? The company’s own cash flow. Which could take years or decades. Until then, the original owner retains control, and you’re just a co-op on paper.

7. Enter the state: taxpayer-funded idealism.

Obviously, no one in their right mind would sell a €170M asset and wait 15 years to get paid — unless someone guarantees the payment. Cue the Slovenian government, floating ideas of state guarantees for loans to fund the buyout.

8. You pay if it fails.

If the company can’t generate enough cash flow, the loan doesn’t get repaid. And because the state guaranteed it, you — the taxpayer — are on the hook. We’re socializing risk in the name of collectivized ownership.

9. A new experiment with an old smell.

It’s not entrepreneurship. It’s not market-based ownership. It’s centrally organized redistribution, repackaged in cooperative jargon. It’s Yugoslav self-management with a Google Doc.

10. Conclusion: back to the commune, one subsidy at a time.

Slovenia isn’t innovating. It’s regressing — reinventing the cooperative model as a tool of political ideology, not economic logic. If you think this will lead to motivated workers, thriving companies, or efficient governance — you might just be eligible for a state-funded training in how not to run a business.

ESOP? No — this is E-SOAP: a slippery slope of ideology, washed down with public money.

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

The Alternative Housing Program for Affordable Living

Alternative Housing Program

By Tomaž Štih



Introduction

The affordable alternative housing program would pursue a single (constitutional!) goal: the accessibility of suitable housing. Its success would be measured by how many years an average household needs to become the owner of their own (appropriately sized!) home near or in the place where they work.

For example, if the real credit capacity of a single-person household with an average income is eighty thousand euros, then the program is considered very successful if the price of an average small apartment near a larger urban center is eighty thousand euros – a bit more in Ljubljana, a bit less in Murska Sobota.

The proposed measures would focus mainly on increasing, expanding, and deepening private supply, on debureaucratization, and on all other factors that influence housing prices (centralization of the state, mobility obstacles, etc.).

The way to achieve this goal would be to very quickly encourage the market to create a multitude of new dwellings, varied enough that each first-time seeker can choose one suited to their budget and lifestyle.

Since the prevailing cultural model in Slovenia is the single-family house, and young people wish to live in cities, we must address both trends and simplify and lower the cost of both – simple construction and investment construction upwards.

I. Tax simplification

Today we have a multitude of taxes on real estate, and due to this chaos, multiple taxation occurs in some cases. The tax system is further complicated by government announcements of new taxes every few months.

This not only hinders market functioning but also represents an unnecessary burden on the state administration.

A tax simplification is proposed – the establishment of a single stable and long-term tax that everyone understands, with a general tax allowance like in personal income tax – to protect the socially vulnerable. And no other exceptions.

The tax must not significantly increase current taxation and must incorporate all other sectoral taxes and fees (e.g., property tax, building land use fee, cadastral income, utility contribution, tax on rental income, real estate transfer tax, etc.).

It must be an original revenue of the local community, with no exceptions, assessed from the generalized market value of land. The municipality may independently set the rate between zero and a legally defined maximum. This enshrines tax competition.

To prevent abuse, if a municipality sets the tax rate below ¾ of the national average, it is not entitled to funds from the equalization mechanism.

II. Incentives for the rental market

We want to reform legislation so that housing is accessible and rental is no longer mainly an emergency solution for those who have no hope of ever owning – but instead a mechanism that enriches lifestyles and encourages mobility.

People should freely choose their form of living, and the state’s role must be to offer as much choice as possible. To make renting attractive, the state must strengthen both the position of the tenant and the landlord.

  • Abolition of tax on rental income
    Currently, income from property rental is taxed at 25%, which discourages landlords. If the owner already pays the unified property tax, then the rental tax is double taxation. Tax relief would encourage more rental supply.
  • Eviction guarantee for non-paying tenants
    Lengthy court procedures discourage property owners. Introducing a guaranteed eviction deadline for non-payers, and possibly covering costs if the state misses the deadline, would improve legal security for landlords.
  • Legal regulation of deposits
    Current law does not define clear rules for security deposits. Legal provisions would protect both tenants and landlords and reduce disputes.
  • Standardized lease agreements
    A simple template contract would reduce legal uncertainty and simplify procedures, enabling quick and digital lease agreements.
  • Automatic registration of residence for tenants
    Upon signing a lease, the tenant’s residence would be registered automatically, unless they opt out. This would simplify bureaucracy.
  • Utilities in the tenant's name
    Contracts for basic services (electricity, water, gas, internet) could be signed directly by the tenant, ensuring clear responsibility for payments and protecting the owner.
  • Voluntary tenant credit scoring
    Optional ratings would help landlords decide and allow tenants to prove payment reliability without a mandatory central registry.

III. Legal simplifications

To re-enable widespread private construction, as known in the past, we need a comprehensive simplification of spatial and building legislation.

This task must not be left only to professional associations, local governments, or licensed planners, as they often have a vested interest in maintaining a complex, exclusive system they know how to navigate – and profit from.

Instead, the state must establish a special deregulation group made up mostly of consumers – those who do not yet have a home and are directly affected. These are future builders, not those already housed and benefiting from high prices.

The group’s mission: to write a separate, short, and understandable legal framework for single-family houses and small residential buildings, separate from existing spatial legislation, with the highest possible degree of simplicity and legal certainty.

The group could consider the following simplifications (unordered):

  • Express permits for simple and small buildings (tiny houses).
  • Expand the list of structures not requiring building permits (e.g., up to 100 m²).
  • Remove construction logbooks and mandatory signage for private builds.
  • Remove the need for occupancy permits for owner-built homes.
  • Eliminate approvals for trivial changes that don’t impact neighbors or the environment.
  • Allow pre-approved plans (model projects) without lengthy review.
  • Automatic rezoning based on objective criteria (e.g., proximity to infrastructure).
  • Simple liability statement and basic technical report instead of elaborate documentation.
  • Modular municipal spatial plans (OPNs): allow zoning of micro-locations without changing the entire plan.
  • Right to request land-use change (e.g., farmland within settlements).
  • Detailed spatial plans (OPPNs) should be the exception, not the rule.
  • Remove arbitrary housing quotas in OPNs.
  • Specialized state body empowered to expand settlements if municipalities obstruct growth.
  • Allow construction without full utility readiness if alternatives are provided (e.g., septic tanks, solar, rainwater capture).
  • Voluntary non-connection fee – if someone chooses self-sufficiency.
  • Direct utility contracts without municipal or monopoly interference.
  • Recognize mobile and temporary living (van life, container homes) with clear legal status.
  • Allow alternative homes on private land without state interference (with liability declaration).

The core of this legal simplification is not just reducing bureaucracy, but restoring dignified and affordable living conditions for those excluded today.

Slovenia achieved a housing miracle when people were allowed to build their own homes. Today, it has become nearly impossible. It is time to reopen that path.

IV. Lowering land prices

To reduce land prices for construction, competition is a much better tool than taxation. If buildable land becomes cheaper due to abundant supply, this has the same effect on investors as a tax — but does not harm those using the land for housing.

In Slovenia, land is not expensive because there is little of it. In reality, more than 95% of the country is undeveloped. Our territory covers 20,273 km² and is home to just under 900,000 households. Of these, about 25% do not own their homes. If each of them needed 350 m² of land, that’s only 0.4% of the national territory.

Anecdotally, even if we allocated forest land for this purpose, forest coverage would drop from 58% to 57.5%.

Buildable land is expensive not because of scarcity, but because of a lack of permits. This is called artificial scarcity. It’s like a group of tourists in the middle of a lake allowed to drink through just one straw. Their problem is not water shortage…

A simple formula to lower the price of buildable land: allow construction on more of it.

Helicopter land

The state owns almost a quarter of Slovenia’s land. We propose that 2% of state-owned land near towns with good infrastructure be reclassified as standard-size (e.g., 350 m²) buildable plots and allocated as so-called helicopter land for single-family housing.

Helicopter land means this land is privatized for a symbolic fee or free of charge. To ensure sustainability, the land is not inheritable and returns to the state upon the owner’s death, replenishing the pool of available helicopter plots.

In these zones, more relaxed construction rules may apply, such as pre-approval of architectural designs enabling faster permits, or experimenting with techniques and materials that would otherwise take decades to approve.

First-time seekers can choose a region, and specific plots are assigned by lottery, possibly with social benefit criteria — e.g., priority for those volunteering for military service.

Minimum unbuilt land quota

To ensure an adequate supply of buildable land and encourage the YIMBY effect, each municipality should be required to maintain at least 25% of its built-up area as unbuilt buildable land. If this quota drops below the threshold, the municipality must release more land.

Exceptions can apply to areas heavily dependent on tourism.

V. Jazbinšek 2.0

Apartments with non-profit rents, still owned by the state or municipalities, represent a frozen housing stock that rarely circulates. Tenants rarely move out, and rental rights are often informally passed within families.

This is understandable — why would someone leave a quality apartment in a good location at one-third the market rent?

This model is long-term inefficient and opaque. The state pays for maintenance, but never regains control or redistributes the housing effectively.

We propose offering these homes for sale to current tenants:

  • At a fair discount, factoring in years lived, social status, and real value.
  • With safeguards against immediate resale or speculation.

This would:

  • Relieve the public administration of inefficient housing management.
  • Ensure tenants’ long-term social security and affordability in retirement.
  • Save the state long-term maintenance costs.

This is not a new idea. The original Jazbinšek law in the 1990s was hugely successful — around 160,000 people gained homes, ensuring housing security and stability.

The problem was not privatization itself, but that apartments were sold too cheaply.

Two models are possible:

  • Classic improved privatization: the tenant gradually pays off the apartment through rent, becoming the owner after a set period. This system is fair, prevents sudden financial burdens, and encourages responsibility.
  • Singapore’s rent-to-own model: the tenant gains lifetime usage rights, but ownership remains with the state. After the tenant’s death, the apartment returns to the housing pool.

Note: Slovenia’s housing success was also built on inflation-indexed loans — something that cannot be repeated today.

VI. Investments in better road networks

Infrastructure investments are long-term. Railways, highways, and tunnels are built not for today, but for the next 10, 20, or even 50 years.

If we believe that in a few decades autonomous electric vehicles will be widespread, the logic of mobility will fundamentally change. Such vehicles will be:

  • Safer — eliminating human error and fatigue
  • Accessible — usable by children, elderly, disabled
  • Comfortable — enabling sleep, reading, or work during transit
  • Efficient — coordinated by traffic algorithms
  • Green — running on clean renewable electricity

In such a world, traditional public transport will become less essential. Instead, we will send cars to pick up others, share rides, or personalize our mobility.

Nevertheless, there is a strong current trend of investing heavily in traditional public transport — often framed as climate policy. But this may not be the most rational or long-term choice.

For example, railways are:

  • Extremely expensive and slow to build and maintain
  • Inflexible — requiring high traffic density along fixed corridors
  • Centralized — reinforcing outdated development models
  • Slow to adapt — infrastructure changes are costly and lengthy

Much of this investment happens because rail is currently seen as "green." But in a future dominated by electric, autonomous personal transport, that advantage disappears. The issues rail solves today — emissions and congestion — will be addressed by technology.

It’s wiser to invest in high-quality road and communication networks, creating infrastructure that is flexible, decentralized, future-proof, and technology-neutral.

VII. Transformation or abolition of housing funds

The state has established housing funds in Slovenia to increase the stock of public rental housing. In practice, however, this model is proving neither effective nor sensible.

Housing funds typically build no more than 600 apartments a year — a drop in the ocean compared to actual needs. Around 17,000 children are born in Slovenia each year, meaning even just covering new generations requires several times more housing. When accounting for childless couples, immigrants, singles, and the aging population, it's clear that these funds fail to meet even 5% of real demand.

In practice, it’s a housing lottery — only a lucky few benefit.

Moreover, housing funds often build in prime locations — city centers and high-value zones. This is problematic because:

  • It adds pressure to already overheated property markets.
  • It pushes out the middle class, who can no longer afford to buy there.
  • The state competes with the market for contractors, raising costs for all.

Housing funds also take loans backed by government guarantees, meaning taxpayers bear the risk of failed projects. Meanwhile, many private investors — who could build faster and cheaper — have no access to such guarantees.

Despite all this, millions of euros flow into housing funds annually — for construction, interest, overhead, salaries, and project management — with negligible results. Public money is spread thin while almost no housing gets built.

Housing funds are also large bureaucracies with management, legal teams, commercial departments, investors, supervisors, and consultants. But the state is not a real estate agency. These tasks could be more efficiently handled by private or municipal providers already operating successfully in the market.

We propose:

  • Gradual transformation or abolition of housing funds.
  • Complete existing projects, but start no new ones.
  • Reassign staff to the private sector or to a new, specialized state body focused solely on access to buildable land — today’s biggest obstacle to construction.

The state should focus where it’s truly needed: legislation, regulation, fair taxation, and opening land for development. Housing funds should be a thing of the past, not a permanent institutional market disruption.

VIII. Decentralization of the public sector

Most of Slovenia’s public sector is concentrated in a few urban centers, primarily Ljubljana. This includes ministries, government offices, agencies, universities, research institutes, hospitals, cultural institutions, and broadcasters.

This causes major issues:

  • Overloaded roads, congestion, and traffic jams.
  • Lack of parking and constant space conflicts.
  • Higher construction costs in expensive central areas.
  • Housing pressure: thousands of public employees want to live near work, driving up prices and pushing out families.

Meanwhile, other parts of Slovenia — rural areas, small towns, and regional outskirts — remain depopulated, opportunity-starved, and underutilized. We’ve built a system where people are forced to move where the state is, instead of the state going where the people are.

Public employees are generally well-educated and well-paid. Their presence in a town boosts local demand — for restaurants, hairdressers, preschools, housing, gyms, mechanics. In short, they support vibrant local life.

We propose a gradual relocation of public institutions across Slovenia. This doesn’t mean putting every agency in a village — but relocating offices, universities, and agencies to areas with good connections and available land, where people would gladly stay — if given employment.

To reduce housing pressures, we must reduce demand — and one of the biggest sources of that pressure is the state itself. The state should lead by example and move first.

Slovenia already uses tools to promote balanced settlement — through grants, EU funds, building restrictions, environmental limits, and spatial plans. But while citizens are expected to live “dispersedly,” the state behaves as though it can only exist in the capital.

A more fair, efficient, and meaningful approach would be for the state to respect the principle of balanced regional development — relieving pressure on major cities, reducing housing strain, and revitalizing lagging regions.

IX. Legalization of existing informal buildings

Slovenia has a long tradition of legalizing past unpermitted construction — either through presuming old permits or via dedicated legalization processes.

Meanwhile, citizens who today try to build legally still face long waits, consents, bureaucracy, and required documentation just to build a simple house. This system is unfair — it creates double standards:

  • Some obtain occupancy permits effortlessly,
  • while others can’t get one despite full compliance and effort.

Even the Constitutional Court now questions whether such legalizations violate the constitutional principle of equal treatment under the law.

We propose a more consistent and fair path:

  • First, simplify the building code for everyone.
  • Then legalize all existing structures that would comply under the new rules.

This way, all are treated equally — no retroactive privilege for past violations, and no punishment for future compliance.

What about those who built under stricter rules? They may feel uneasy, but this is not injustice — it’s progress. Just as no one receives a refund when taxes go down, this change means society moves forward — toward more accessible housing.

The legalization we propose is not about leniency, but normalization. We’re not correcting individual wrongdoing — we’re correcting unreasonable conditions that pushed people to violate rules in the first place.

X. Private microfunds and self-build cooperatives

Over recent decades, much has been said about Slovenia’s “housing miracle” — the fact that a large share of Slovenians own their homes. But this wasn’t due to state construction.

The Jazbinšek law privatized only around 160,000 dwellings — less than a quarter of all housing. Many of these weren’t publicly built anyway, but nationalized or confiscated homes from previous regimes.

The real foundation of Slovenia’s housing success was:

  • Mass self-building in the 1960s–1980s,
  • Family solidarity,
  • Private initiative in creating homes.

That spirit of self-building — people building their own homes with effort and savings — is fading. Why?

  • Crippling overregulation,
  • Construction burdened by excessive rules and approvals,
  • Mobility restrictions that prevent competitive suburbanization,
  • No buildable land where people can afford to live,
  • No room for community-based solutions.

These imbalances are increasingly recognized. The Chamber of Commerce recently noted:

  • Procedures for state investors are faster than for private builders, often due to political pressure,
  • State projects are exempt from utility charges, while private builders pay full price for the same infrastructure.

This creates a system where the state competes against its own citizens — unfairly, using far more resources and tools.

Slovenia must return space to private initiative — not through subsidies, but by removing obstacles.

When every hardworking person can build a home — or join others in creating a neighborhood — we’ll again witness a housing miracle. Not through law, but through freedom.

The core proposal is:

  • Empowering local communities to organize housing themselves,
  • Simplifying rules that currently hinder initiative,
  • Removing the state as a market-distorting investor.

Private microfunds would be small, local initiatives by individuals or groups collecting resources to build homes in their area. These could be cooperatives, parent groups, village communities, unions, or companies for employees. They would build where they want to live — not where the state assigns quotas. Housing would be owned by the fund’s members, not rented from the state.

Self-build cooperatives would be neighborhoods built together by individuals. Each person builds their unit (e.g., house), while the group organizes roads, fences, water, sewage, and electricity. Costs drop significantly as there's no need for commercial investors. Everyone invests what they can afford. The cooperative may jointly source materials, share tools, exchange skills — reducing reliance on the market.

The state does not finance or build these private projects. But it ensures:

  • Barriers are removed,
  • Land division is simplified,
  • Shared ownership and building permits are easy to obtain,
  • Construction is allowed without full utility readiness if members commit to self-sufficiency (e.g., water tanks, solar panels, composting toilets),
  • A legal framework supports safe co-investment and shared use.

Private microfunds and cooperatives are not experiments — they are a revival of what once worked in Slovenia. A society where the state builds a few hundred units a year will never solve housing for 25% of households — over a quarter million people.

A society that again trusts its people to build their own homes — can.

Monday, July 07, 2025

Slovenia: The Sick Man of Europe

Chapter I: Myth as mandate

In the 2010s, Russia revived the myth of the Great Patriotic War through a wave of high-budget films such as Stalingrad (2013), 28 Panfilov’s Men (2016), and T-34 (2018). These productions glorified Soviet heroism, whitewashed Stalinist crimes, and promoted a moral narrative of Russia as both savior and eternal victim.

In a revealing interview with Tucker Carlson, it became clear that Vladimir Putin had drawn inspiration from Slobodan Milošević’s performance at Gazimestan in 1989, where the myth of the Battle of Kosovo was weaponized for modern political ends.

These films did more than entertain—they laid the ideological foundation for the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, framed as an act of “denazification.” History was transformed into a tool of war; myth became mandate. Ironically, many Russians today are more convinced they are fighting fascism than they were in 1961, when they built the anti-fascist barrier—known in the West as the Berlin Wall.

Chapter II: Slovenia’s surprise turn

In recent months, Slovenia has made a series of radical and unexpected foreign policy moves that have stunned allies and observers alike. President Nataša Pirc Musar, elected as an independent but backed by the post-communist left, surprised many when she adopted the rhetoric of Hamas propaganda, accusing Israel of genocide in Gaza — a narrative closely aligned with Iranian, Russian, and hard-left agendas. While most EU member states sought a cautious and unified response to the Gaza conflict, Slovenia actively joined the group of outliers to unilaterally recognize Palestine in 2024, bypassing broader EU consensus.

Foreign Minister Tanja Fajon went even further, positioning Slovenia as one of the most pro-Hamas and pro-Iran voices in the EU, frequently breaking ranks with Western allies. Her ministry has supported anti-Israel resolutions at the UN and echoed Tehran’s language in official briefings. Fajon’s foreign policy stance has alarmed Western diplomats, especially as it coincides with renewed Russian outreach to non-aligned and destabilized regions—a pattern Slovenia now appears eager to emulate.

A revealing example of how this ideological shift has permeated even public media occurred during the Eurovision Song Contest. After Israeli entries received strong support from Slovenian viewers two years in a row, Slovenia’s state broadcaster RTV publicly called for Israel to be removed from the competition altogether. The move, framed as a protest against the war in Gaza, was widely criticized as politically motivated censorship. It also exposed the growing rift between the government’s ideological stance and the preferences of the broader Slovenian public, which had twice placed Israel among the top entries in the televote.

Most strikingly, Prime Minister Robert Golob—who rose to power in 2022 on promises of depoliticization and reform—raised the possibility of a referendum on Slovenia’s membership in NATO. Though later downplayed, the proposal echoed the kind of strategic ambiguity seen in Serbia’s “neutrality doctrine.” At the same time, Golob’s government has advocated for quiet diplomatic re-engagement with Russia, despite EU sanctions and the ongoing war in Ukraine.

In less than a year, Slovenia has shifted from a predictable mid-sized EU member to a rogue ideological outlier—undermining NATO unity, destabilizing EU foreign policy cohesion, and adopting the language of Iran, Russia, and Hamas. For a country that once helped lead the break from Yugoslav socialism, the pivot is as unexpected as it is revealing.

Chapter III: Not a surprise at all

Slovenia’s recent foreign policy radicalism—from unilaterally recognizing Palestine to floating a NATO referendum—is not an isolated deviation. The surprise lies only in how long the outside world failed to notice. It is the inevitable externalization of an internal ideological project that has been reshaping the country for years. The same actors now adopting the language of Hamas, Iran, and Russia on the global stage have been transforming Slovenia’s institutions at home, slowly but decisively, under the pretense of reform and depoliticization.

Prime Minister Robert Golob’s government, elected in 2022 has overseen one of the most aggressive political and cultural reconsolidations since independence. Beneath the rhetoric of modernization lies an unmistakable pattern: the restoration of a post-communist elite consensus through institutional capture, myth-based legitimacy, and proxy radicalism.

  • The judiciary has been systematically co-opted, culminating in the de facto takeover of the Constitutional Court.
  • The country’s public broadcaster, RTV Slovenija, has undergone what can only be described as a purge of dissenting journalists.
  • NGOs with ideological agendas and foreign funding have infiltrated ministries and policymaking bodies without electoral legitimacy.
  • A referendum on privileged cultural pensions seeks to restore Yugoslav-era hierarchies favoring regime-loyal intellectuals.
  • The National Day of Remembrance for the Victims of Communism was canceled, erasing inconvenient historical truths.

Each of these measures is part of a consistent strategy: to retake ideological control of the state, not by persuasion or democratic debate, but by reshaping the institutions themselves—their personnel, their functions, and their memory. These developments cannot be understood as pragmatic politics. They reflect a coherent ideological worldview—one that fuses post-socialist nostalgia with anti-Western sentiment, moral relativism, and selective historical memory. The project is neither liberal nor conservative—it is restorationist. Its purpose is to reestablish the ideological dominance of the Partisan myth and the accompanying narrative of benevolent, enlightened communism. Together, these myths serve to legitimize the cultural authority of the old elite and to exclude ideological competitors through administrative means, not open discourse.

Chapter IV: A shared script — myth, memory, and control

What we are witnessing in Slovenia is not an isolated phenomenon, but part of a broader post-authoritarian strategy also seen in Russia and Serbia: the construction of a national identity rooted not in civic democracy or human rights, but in a carefully curated, emotionalized mythology of war and moral victory. These myths are not spontaneous—they are institutionally maintained and used to justify the political status quo.

In Slovenia, the dominant myth is not just the NOB (National Liberation Struggle), but the broader narrative of benevolent communism. This framing allows the events of 1991—the democratic rupture, the rejection of one-party rule, the war of independence—to be pushed to the periphery, recast as a mere continuation of the “liberation” struggle rather than a break with it.

  • It legitimizes the continued dominance of the old elite, who portray themselves as guardians of antifascist values rather than former ideologues of a failed regime.
  • It delegitimizes 1991 as a foundational moment, stripping it of its trauma, its courage, and its radical departure from dictatorship.

Much like Russia, where WWII is used to justify war and erase Stalinist crimes, and Serbia, where the Kosovo myth and selective Yugoslav nostalgia are mobilized to maintain political ambiguity, Slovenia too has transformed its memory politics into a mechanism of cultural control.

Meanwhile, post-communist states like Poland, the Baltic countries, and Czechia followed a radically different path. They explicitly named both fascist and communist totalitarianism as illegitimate. They introduced lustration, truth commissions, and public education rooted in accountability and transparency. Their founding myth is 1989 or 1991—not 1945. In Slovenia, by contrast, the past is not reckoned with—it is rerun.

Memory politics since 1990: A timeline comparison

Decade Russia Slovenia Serbia Poland / Czechia / Baltics
1990s Shock & fragmentation after USSR collapse. Yeltsin-era chaos. No clear narrative. Democratic breakthrough (1990–1992). 1991 war of independence is framed as a rupture with communism. Collapse of Yugoslavia. Wars in Croatia/Bosnia. Conflicting narratives: Chetniks vs. Partisans. Lustration, truth commissions. Strong emphasis on decommunization. Clear rupture with the past.
2000–2010 Putin rises (2000). Centralization. WWII reframed as sacred. Stalin rehabilitated. NOB re-legitimized by left-wing elites. Museums, schoolbooks focus on WWII, not 1991. Rehabilitation of WWII Chetniks begins under nationalism. Kosovo conflict dominates national trauma. Public trials of communist crimes. Strong anti-communist education. Genocide museums and archives.
2010–2020 Big-budget WWII films. "Russkiy mir" ideology. USSR crimes omitted. Downplaying of 1991 continues. Left resists naming communism as dictatorship. Continued myth duality. Titoist nostalgia vs. Orthodox nationalism. Little historical reckoning. EU integration solidifies anti-communist identity. Soviet occupation is central historical frame.
2020–present Ukraine war justified using WWII symbols. “Denazification” rhetoric. Myth weaponized. Attempt to merge 1945 and 1991 into one myth. Museum of Independence dismantled in 2023. Vučić promotes “neutral Serbia” doctrine. Avoids full break with Yugoslav past. Continued democratic memory culture. Museums, education, and archives reinforce truth and rupture.

Chapter V: The Thompson concert in Croatia: 1991 vs. 1945 as moral ground zero

On July 5, 2025, singer Marko Perković Thompson held what became the largest single-night concert in Croatian history—over 500,000 people gathered at Zagreb’s Hippodrome, waving flags, singing songs of national pride, and commemorating the Croatian struggle for independence.

Thompson’s music is rooted in the 1991–1995 Homeland War, not in World War II or Ustaša mythology, as detractors often claim. His lyrics speak of loss, sacrifice, and national survival—themes drawn from lived Croatian experience, not historical revisionism.

And yet, international and regional media—particularly those influenced by former Yugoslav-era structures—quickly framed the concert as a revival of World War II fascism, ignoring its actual context. This misrepresentation is not accidental. It reflects a broader effort by the old Yugoslav elite to reinterpret post-communist patriotism through a 1945 lens, where any national sentiment not anchored in the Partisan myth is automatically branded extremist.

In that sense, Thompson is not the myth—he is a victim of it. His popularity illustrates the unresolved tension between two competing visions of history: one that sees 1991 as the foundation of modern sovereignty, and another that clings to 1945 as the sole moral reference point.

In Slovenia, this tension is even more suppressed. Celebrating the 1991 independence movement too loudly often invites suspicion. Expressing pride in the national struggle is easily dismissed as nationalist revisionism. This is why Slovenia lacks cultural equivalents of Thompson—not due to extremism, but because the post-communist elite fears any narrative that might displace the WWII myth as the cornerstone of national identity.

Even as Croatia publicly debates its historical ambiguities, Slovenia enforces a sanitized narrative, suppressing 1991 in favor of a curated image of the Partisan state—repackaged and sold as a liberal democracy.

Chapter VI: Conclusion — Slovenia’s strategic drift

Slovenia’s internal mythmaking and institutional capture are no longer a domestic affair. They are shaping the country’s foreign policy, undermining democratic norms, and placing Slovenia increasingly at odds with its EU partners.

More alarmingly, Slovenia is becoming a test case—a soft target—for Russia’s broader strategy of fragmenting the West from within. By leveraging historical grievances, ideological nostalgia, and captured institutions, Russia is using Slovenia as a tool to seed or initiate more extremist ruptures inside the EU and NATO.

This is not just symbolic. If one EU or NATO country begins to seriously consider withdrawal—especially under the influence of disinformation, media manipulation, and foreign-funded activism—it could open the gates of hell. It would signal that the post-1991 democratic order is reversible, that narrative warfare can succeed where tanks could not.

But the consequences go beyond geopolitics. As Slovenia doubles down on ideological restoration, it is also beginning to lag economically and socially. The country is stagnating in innovation, productivity, and global relevance. In this climate, the greatest enemy is not the political opposition—it is the free market, meritocracy, and openness.

Slovenia does not need condemnation - it is too small and irrelevant for that. It needs attention. From allies, from watchdogs, and from its own democratic opposition. Pressure from the free world, combined with domestic civic resistance, could help Slovenia rediscover the promise of 1991: an open, modern, democratic society built on truth rather than myth.

Rather than drifting toward the ideological orbit of Iran, Russia, and Serbia, Slovenia would benefit enormously from deepening its ties with the liberal, economically open, and strategically sober nations of Central Europe. A closer alignment with the Visegrád Group and the Baltic States — could anchor Slovenia in a reality-based policy framework, helping it move forward rather than backward.