A new network of local portals, the same old media control in Serbia

Each new election year is Serbia brings new “phantom” media, while independent journalism becomes harder to sustain

Each new election year can bring a fresh wave of “phantom” media outlets, while independent journalism becomes increasingly difficult to sustain. Without free media that enable informed choice, elections themselves cannot be free. When even local media are created as projects of political power, citizens are left with yet another layer of managed reality.

In the first weeks of 2026, Serbia’s media scene gained ten new local portals. A closer look reveals a pattern: the same owner, the same editor, the same registration date, and the same narrative. The Association of Independent Electronic Media reports that all the new portals were registered by the same Novi Sad-based company, Zaple Media Group. The company’s director is Gradimir Banković, who is known to the public as an associate of the Center for Social Stability. The first three outlets, Srbija na Istoku, Palanačke Vesti, and Glas Aranđelovca, were registered on the same day, January 9, 2026. By February, the network had expanded to ten portals. This trend has been covered by Vreme, ANEM, Cenzolovka, and Mašina.

The portals cover precisely those municipalities holding regular local elections this year: Aranđelovac, Bor, Bajina Bašta, Kladovo, Knjaževac, Kula, Lučani, Majdanpek, Smederevska Palanka, and Sevojno. This is not a coincidence, but a carefully targeted operation aimed at building political communication infrastructure and demonstrating a clear understanding of local electoral dynamics.

The upcoming local elections carry not only concrete implications for local communities but also symbolic value, reflecting the impact and consequences of the 2025 civic and student protests on the stability and strength of SNS rule. Every local election is an opportunity to “bring down” major national narratives to the municipal level, defending or shaping the government’s reputation through more direct and locally resonant stories about development, stability, and investment. For this kind of microtargeting, there are no more effective channels than local media, which build their content, editorial policies, and influence around municipal topics, familiar local leaders, and analyses of local problems, successes, and conflicts.

The importance of local media is often underestimated in public debate, which tends to focus on national television networks and major portals. Yet local media represent the most direct communication channel between authorities and citizens at the local level. In small communities, where people know each other and personalized campaigns have stronger effects, control over the local information space can be decisive for electoral victories. For citizens, local media are the primary source of information about events in their municipality, the work of local authorities, and issues that directly affect them. When these media become an extension of political propaganda, the last layer of oversight over local government disappears. Citizens lose access to relevant information and receive only content serving the political interests of the ruling structure. For years, the government’s strategy has been clear: ahead of every election, it builds local legitimacy through tangible projects, constructing roads, opening schools and factories, and attracting investors.

In such a system, local media serve as a crucial amplifier of these events, especially when any critical or analytical approach is suppressed and outlets are transformed into continuous loudspeakers of positive news and the latest successes of “our government.” They can also become an important link in managing future crises and protests on the ground. If their content is organized around redirecting blame, discrediting organizers, and relativizing problems, images of civic unrest and protest can be more easily controlled. Ultimately, they can function as a mechanism of internal discipline within the system, defining who is loyal, who is a “problem,” and what or who will be promoted. The electoral benefit for those in power can be significant, with minimal cost. Local portals are inexpensive, quick to launch, and easily filled with aggregated content.

Their goal is not to reach mass audiences or achieve broad visibility. It is sufficient for them to dominate the local ecosystem and circulate easily shareable content within community-based social media networks. Creating “networks,” rather than launching individual outlets, suggests coordination and a pattern in which multiple media organizations under the same ownership share an identical editorial policy. Instead of demonstrating an authentic commitment to individual communities, the result of this wave of local media launches will almost certainly be the uniform framing of events under the appearance of local diversity. Citizens may feel that there is “more information and more local voices,” while in reality transparency, reliability, verifiability, accountability, and, most importantly, local interest are replaced by a centrally produced narrative.

The connection between the new media and the Center for Social Stability is crucial to understanding the issue. Although formally a non-governmental organization, the CZDS has in recent years become a producer of propaganda films and targeted campaigns against critically oriented journalists, public figures, and media outlets. As reported by the public broadcaster, the National Assembly Speaker, Ana Brnabić, described them as a “fantastic NGO,” while President Aleksandar Vučić praised them as “true Serbian patriots.” Such endorsement from the highest levels of government grants legitimacy to a structure functioning as a political extension of the ruling power. Gradimir Banković, the editor of all ten portals, is not only registered as the director of the media company but also publicly appears as a representative of the CZDS. One of the association’s founders is the current Minister for European Integration, Nemanja Starović. This intertwining of political structures, pseudo-civil organizations, and a media network is a textbook example of how political manipulation can create the appearance of pluralism while actually building and reinforcing a controlled media ecosystem.

Although ownership backgrounds are formally known in many cases, key elements that would clarify future editorial policy and overall operations are often missing. Frequently, there is no clear imprint, no transparent legal identity, and an unclear licensing status; yet content is distributed either through cable systems or online platforms. As in many other situations in Serbia, the practice exists in reality but remains legally questionable within institutions. The system’s message is clear: rules apply selectively. If content can be broadcast and distributed without clear status, this signals weak or politically filtered oversight. These local, often “phantom,” media outlets are therefore indicators of a condition in which institutions are not arbiters of the market and the law but arenas for the distribution of political power.

While the Serbian authorities point to formal pluralism, the market demonstrates substantive concentration. Despite numerous media “brands,” genuine editorial autonomy is scarce. Local newsrooms are weakening while copy-and-paste networks are expanding. Financial mechanisms reinforce this dynamic, from local budgets and public tenders to advertising. Public funds and advertising revenue create dependence on political will or financial incentives. The wave of new local media may represent preparation for deeper entry into funding streams and formal legitimation. In 2025, more than 13 million euros from state tenders went to pro-government media, while independent outlets were systematically marginalized, according to Veran Matić, as reported by Vreme and Mašina.

Data cited by IN Medija, based on ANEM’s database, show that the media group of Radoica Milosavljević received 133 million dinars from state tenders alone, nearly one-twelfth of the total allocated funds. Establishing ten new portals just before new tenders are announced enables the expansion of a network that will participate in the distribution of public money. During elections, these media become local campaign infrastructure, producing a coordinated narrative in every municipality alongside central tabloids. This is no longer public information, but precisely orchestrated propaganda financed by citizens’ taxes. Unfortunately, these trends offer little encouragement for a journalistic profession already devastated by precarious labor conditions and professional degradation. Cheap portals and centralized production mean small newsrooms, a limited need for expertise, minimal field reporting, and reduced fact-checking.

There are three key points of responsibility for these developments. The first is the registration of media and the transparency of ownership and editorial structures. It must be clear who the publisher, editor-in-chief, and collaborators are. The second, and most painful, is the enforcement of the law and the imposition of sanctions when rules are violated; both are currently lacking. Finally, the regulatory vacuum created by the effective demise of the Regulatory Authority for Electronic Media more than a year ago has now become a political resource. If the regulator does not function or is blocked, this is not merely an administrative issue but a deliberately established mechanism of impunity. The “gray zone” thus becomes normalized.

Launching a coordinated network of media outlets immediately before elections violates the spirit, if not the letter, of electoral law. Although there is no formal ban on founding media during an election year, it is clear that these outlets do not exist to inform citizens but to produce one-directional political influence. When a single political structure can register dozens of media outlets, finance them through public tenders, and coordinate their content, this amounts to systematic manipulation of the electoral process. In short, the current political establishment continues to build an autocratic media system.

The creation of ten local media outlets within a few weeks would not necessarily be alarming were it not for the systemic character of the process: identical ownership, an identical editor linked to a propaganda organization enjoying high-level political support, geographic alignment with upcoming elections, the absence of basic transparency, and a coordinated narrative targeting opposition and critical voices. The timing suggests electoral preparation in which local media are treated as campaign infrastructure rather than as a public good. Their position as outlets that “lock in” interpretations of reality in small communities is irreplaceable, and their networking indicates a centralized editorial policy masked as diversity.

These developments confirm that Serbia is not building democratic media pluralism but rather a controlled public sphere in which the sheer number and supposed diversity of media outlets serve to mask monolithic political control. Local media, which should be closest to citizens and most relevant to their daily lives, are transformed into campaign tools financed by citizens themselves through public tenders.

Each new election year in Serbia brings new “phantom” media, while independent journalism becomes harder to sustain. Without free media that ensure informed choice, elections themselves cannot be free. When local media are created as projects of political power, citizens receive yet another layer of managed perception of reality.

Nova mreža lokalnih portala, stara medijska kontrola