Kosovo’s Chief Prosecutor, Serbia’s Best Ally?

Radoicic confessed to terrorism. Isufaj enabled his escape. Then blamed “independent prosecutors” and “higher instances.” Justice didn’t stall, it was sabotaged.

LONDON — On 27 July 2025, Kosovo’s Special Prosecutor Blerim Isufaj appeared on Kallxo.com¹ to address his handling of one of the most politically volatile and nationally consequential legal cases in Kosovo’s post-war history: the Banjska attack². What unfolded over the course of that interview was not merely an exchange of legal reasoning, but a forensic study in evasion, deflection, and the art of institutional ambiguity that has come to define Kosovo's prosecutorial dysfunction at the highest levels.

Isufaj, faced with pointed questions from journalist Kreshnik Gashi, repeatedly oscillated between technical legalisms and vagueness, attempting to justify a sequence of actions that, when laid bare, appear deeply damaging to Kosovo’s national security and public trust. At the heart of the scandal lies Milan Radoicic, a known criminal figure, accused terrorist, and admitted organiser of the Banjska assault.

"Veç fakti se Milan Radojqiqi ka deklaruar publikisht që e ka organizuar Banjskën dhe ai sot qëndron në Serbi. A ka argument më të madh se mas ksaj qëndron shteti Serb" | "Just the fact that Milan Radoicic publicly declared that he organised the Banjska attack and that he is still in Serbia. Is there any stronger argument that behind this stands the Serbian state?"

This unequivocal admission by Isufaj should have been the foundation for a rigorous legal offensive. Instead, the public would later learn that Radoicic’s arrest warrant was briefly withdrawn under opaque circumstances, allegedly in exchange for information about the 2018 assassination of Oliver Ivanovic³.

According to Isufaj, the case prosecutor Burim Çerkini claimed that Radoicic would cooperate if the arrest warrant was lifted:

"Avokati i Radojqiqit kishte thënë prokurorit çështjen se Radojqiqi po jep sinjale bashkëpunimi..." | "Radoicic's lawyer told the prosecutor that Radoicic was giving signals of cooperation."

That cooperation never materialised. Radoicic never presented himself to authorities. Instead, he returned to the shadows, and eventually to Serbia, untouched. Meanwhile, Isufaj now distances himself from the decision:

"Procedurën e ka zhvilluar prokurori i çështjes... prokurorët janë të pavarur" | "The procedure was led by the case prosecutor... prosecutors are independent."

This legal technicality, wielded like a shield, conveniently divorces the Chief Special Prosecutor from accountability. But throughout the interview, Isufaj concedes that he was informed at every step. His argument collapses under its own contradictions. To the public, this was not legal nuance; it was betrayal.

In a country as politically fragile as Kosovo, the mere perception of complicity or negligence in matters of national security is devastating. Isufaj's defence that lifting the arrest warrant was part of a strategy only deepens the concern. Who approved it? "Një instancë më e nalt" | "A higher instance," he says, without naming any official, thus creating a ghost chain of command that allows no scrutiny.

This shadow governance, shrouded in phrases like "nuk mund të ndaj me publikun" | "I cannot share with the public,” defies democratic accountability. If the legal system is to be weaponised through secrecy, then the very foundations of rule of law in Kosovo are compromised.

Perhaps the most damaging moment of the interview came when Isufaj was asked whether he expects Milan Radoicic to ever be extradited: "Nuk besoj kurrë" | "I never believe so."

Here lies the indictment not just of Serbia, but of Kosovo’s own institutional impotence. If the chief prosecutor of the Special Prosecution believes, with apparent resignation, that a central figure in one of the most violent anti-state operations in Kosovo will never face justice, then what remains of deterrence? What remains of sovereignty?

But the rot goes deeper. Isufaj is also accused of inaction by his own peers. Former prosecutor Sylë Hoxha claimed that political actors pressured him to withdraw Radoicic's arrest warrant and denounced interference from "njerëz të parapolitikës" | "parapolitical figures."

Isufaj dismisses this, asking: "Pse s'i ka arrestu këta njerëz?" | "Why didn’t he arrest those people?" This retort evades the real issue: the presence of influence operations within the justice system. Rather than investigate Hoxha’s claims, Isufaj turns the lens back on the whistleblower.

His cavalier deflection has become a motif. When pressed on the implications of the Prime Minister and President refusing to support his candidacy for Chief State Prosecutor, Isufaj scoffs:

"Mirë çë s’më duan. S’prish punën" | "Good that they don’t want me. Doesn’t matter."

But it does matter. The refusal to appoint him is rooted in allegations of bias, political proximity, and the very handling of the Radoicic case. His dismissiveness underscores a dangerous lack of institutional humility.

Isufaj also stood behind a wall of technicalities regarding investigations into the Kurti government. When asked why some cases receive urgent raids (such as in the Ministry of Agriculture) while others, like the Ministry of Infrastructure, appear to stagnate, he said:

"Rastet kanë specifika të ndryshme..." | "Cases have different specifics..."

The response is at best evasive, at worst a signal of selective prosecution.

When it comes to matters of state security, Isufaj claims he has no intelligence:

"Unë nuk kam informacione të tilla" | "I have no such information,"

- he says about threats of further violence in the north. Yet he is also the man who has signed multiple arrest warrants for suspects involved in the Banjska plot and other destabilisation efforts in the north.

What emerges from this one-hour conversation is a picture of a prosecutor who is either overwhelmed by the institutional rot he is meant to combat or actively preserving it under a veneer of legality. In both scenarios, the result is the same: the erosion of Kosovo's justice system and its national security.

The broader geopolitical context only heightens the stakes. Serbia, emboldened by Western inaction, has deepened its ties with Moscow, Beijing, and Tehran. The Banjska attack was not an isolated paramilitary adventure; it was a Kremlin-scripted provocation, facilitated by Belgrade and executed on Kosovo’s soil. That the man who orchestrated it walks free under Serbian protection, while Kosovo’s own institutions flounder in ambiguity, is not just a legal failure. It is a national humiliation.

And in that failure, Blerim Isufaj bears direct culpability. Through inaction, equivocation, and a reckless reliance on procedural opacity, he has weakened Kosovo’s prosecutorial integrity, undermined public trust, and offered a gift to those who seek to dismantle Kosovo from within.

In a nation where impunity is a slow death to sovereignty, Blerim Isufaj has not merely hesitated at the gates. He opened them.

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LEDGER

The first arrest warrant for Milan Radoicic was issued in 2019, following suspicions of his involvement in the assassination of Serbian politician Oliver Ivanovic in January 2018⁴. Ivanovic, a prominent Kosovo Serb leader and outspoken critic of organised crime in the north, had publicly identified Radoicic as a key enforcer of Serbia-backed mafia power structures in Mitrovica⁵. He was gunned down in front of his party headquarters⁶. During a police raid on Radoicic’s home later that year, he fled, later releasing a statement via Srpska Lista’s official channels claiming that the Kosovo authorities had attempted to assassinate him⁷, painting himself as a nationalist martyr rather than a murder suspect.

In March 2021, the arrest warrant was quietly and inexplicably withdrawn, despite the case remaining unresolved⁸. The timing was highly suspicious. It followed the 2020 indictments of Hashim Thaçi, Kadri Veseli, and others⁹ by the Hague’s Specialist Chambers¹⁰. According to sources independently verified by The Gunpowder Chronicles, Radoicic’s legal exposure suddenly became his leverage. He began trading sensitive information in exchange for immunity. What did he offer? Classified Hague witness files and critical intelligence that could potentially sabotage the prosecution of Thaçi and Veseli.

These documents, according to sources in London and continental Europe, originated from Serbian intelligence, passed through Radoicic’s channels, and were ultimately delivered to Veseli’s operatives, namely Nasim Haradinaj and Hysni Gucati of the Kosovo Liberation Army War Veterans’ Organisation. This illicit exchange, our sources allege, was facilitated by Agim Veliu, then Interior Minister in the 2020–2021 Hoti administration. Though from the LDK, Veliu is widely viewed as a Thaçi loyalist. He reportedly made repeated, undocumented visits to northern Kosovo, meeting with Belgrade-aligned authorities under Radoicic’s control. These meetings, observed by Western sources, yet never publicly acknowledged, exposed the dual reality of a Kosovo whose government claimed sovereignty, even as its officials colluded with a criminal underworld tethered to Serbia’s deep state.

The most visible consequence of this alliance emerged in September 2020, when a masked individual—believed to be linked to Radoicic, delivered leaked Hague files to the KLA War Veterans’ Organisation. The organisation then attempted to use these Radoicic-sourced documents to undermine the course of justice, prompting the Hague to act swiftly by charging Haradinaj and Gucati with six counts, including obstruction of justice, intimidation, and breach of confidentiality of proceedings¹¹. According to the KSC indictment, between 7 and 25 September 2020, the two held press conferences and disseminated protected information, making disparaging accusations against (potential) witnesses and seeking to undermine the court’s work. They were sentenced to three years in prison.

Meanwhile, Radoicic moved with increasing impunity. In February 2022, another arrest warrant was issued, this time for witness intimidation in the Brezovica corruption and illegal construction scandal¹². But in July that year, he was seen openly at barricades in northern Kosovo, despite being a wanted man, protected once again by Srpska Lista, which confirmed his presence.

In December 2023, a third warrant followed, this time for orchestrating the armed attack in Banjska, a deadly paramilitary assault in northern Kosovo that Radoicic himself publicly claimed responsibility for¹³. Although a trial is now underway in Kosovo, only three people have been arrested. More than 40 others remain at large including Radoicic, believed to be under protection in Serbia.

And in April 2025, a fourth arrest warrant was issued, this time accusing him of war crimes against civilians in the Gjakova region during the 1999 war¹⁴.

THE THAÇI APPARATUS LIVES ON

That Blerim Isufaj still holds the office of Chief Special Prosecutor is not merely a symptom of institutional inertia, it is a political statement. Despite lacking the confidence of both President Vjosa Osmani and Prime Minister Albin Kurti¹⁵, neither of whom has endorsed his continued mandate, Isufaj remains in place: defiant, unmoved, unaccountable.

The question is no longer "how" but, why?