‘When we arrived in Oplenac in 1992, my father was on a kill list! The three of us returned to England! I came back alone in 2003

“What frightens me the most is that we are losing our identity, our culture of remembrance, and respect for our sacrifices, as well as the fact that many children are leaving Serbia. My mission is to preserve Serbian identity and culture, to encourage people to fight to raise Serbia to a higher level, rather than going abroad.

The Prince, grandson of King Alexander and first cousin of Crown Prince Alexander, is often not perceived as such due to his age—he is only 39. I first met him in late 2003, when the widow and sons of Prince Tomislav decided to settle in Serbia. The Karađorđević family did not receive any restitution (at that time, they had not yet been rehabilitated, nor have they been to this day), but there was goodwill to grant them the use of a villa owned by Dipos. During Prince Tomislav’s lifetime, they were given a villa in Senjak, which they still have the right to use based on their connection to the Club of Deputies in Tolstoy Street, a building that belonged to Prince Tomislav. “I still remember the first time I met the Princess and her sons, on a windy December evening at a pedestrian crossing at the corner of King Alexander Boulevard and Resavska Street, a few days before their family saint’s day, St Andrew the First-Called. She invited me to the celebration, but I was unable to attend. Life took me in a different direction, and I would not meet the Prince again for two decades—until this spring, in Zagorica near Topola, at the estate they symbolically named Maričin Do. While I was conducting an interview with his wife, Princess Ljubica, he arrived, saying that he recognised both my voice and my face.

Now, they come to the church in Oplenac as a family. Six-year-old Princess Natalija is the first to run up and kiss the icon of St George. Her father lifts her up. To the left lies King Peter I, to the right, Karađorđe.

"Karađorđe is both a great pride and an enormous responsibility. A man who defended and raised Serbia. But I also feel a responsibility towards those who fought alongside Karađorđe, alongside King Peter, alongside all the Karađorđević’s who gave their lives. There is no greater sacrifice than giving one's life. In the First World War, we lost nearly a quarter of our population. We must honour these sacrifices," says Prince Mihailo.

“Look over there. See the light? Both Grandpa Pera and Grandpa Karađorđe would want you to be calm now," Princess Ljubica whispers to little Isidora, only two and a half years old, as we prepare to take photographs.”

We descend into the crypt. To the right of the altar, his grandfather and grandmother; to the left, his father—the beloved Prince Tomislav, about whom no one has ever spoken a bad word.

"The most important thing my father left me was his example. He is the model I should look up to," the Prince says.

Born in London, he grew up on an apple farm in Sussex, which his father, Prince Tomislav, built with his own hands.

"For as long as I can remember, I have felt a responsibility towards the name I bear. In the Church of St Sava in Ladbroke Grove, London, we stood in a special place reserved for our family. I was taught how to cross myself, how to stand, how to sit... In our home, there were icons, portraits of my grandparents, King Alexander and Queen Maria," says the Prince, adding:

Prince Mihailo Karađorđević, childhood and now 

"But the biggest shift came when I first came to Serbia. People cried when they saw us! It was unbelievable. I was five years old in 1990, but I remember everything. I arrived with my mother, brother, and cousins from my uncle Andrej’s family. We stayed at Queen Maria’s house in Oplenac, but we also travelled everywhere—skiing on Kopaonik, and I was especially fascinated by the glass factory in Paraćin..."

His father would not arrive until 6 October 1991

"He never took a British passport; he had a UN document allowing him to travel anywhere in the world except Yugoslavia, where he returned after five decades without documents. Until the end of his life, he only had a passport issued before the Second World War. He was rehabilitated, at my request, only on 16 December 2013—13 years after his death—on the very day his father, King Alexander, was born," Prince Mihailo recounts.

Prince Tomislav spent the rest of his life in Oplenac, and his family visited frequently, especially Princess Linda—a woman of mixed American and English heritage who did so much for Serbia. She and her husband visited the battlefields.

"I remember how she left Đorđe and me with the soldiers on the Danube, then took a boat across to Vukovar. We fished while waiting for her, as the fighting raged on the other side. When she saw the tragedies in Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina, the injustices, and the propaganda against Serbs, she lost faith in the country where she grew up and, in a way, renounced it," says Prince Mihailo, adding that for several years now, she has not even visited England—she remains with them in Serbia.

In 1992, the Karađorđević’s decided to move to Oplenac permanently

"Đorđe and I even started primary school in Belgrade, in Senjak. But then my father received information that he was on a kill list. I do not know who wanted to eliminate him, but some of the people on that list had already been assassinated. My mother decided it was safer for the three of us to return to England. Of course, my brother and I did not know this at the time," the Prince recalls, who spent every summer with his father.

"Those were beautiful memories. We rode our bikes, and the then-manager of the Endowment, Miladin Gavrilović, took us fishing. I also learned to drive here at driving school when I was just 13 or 14 years old.".

Then came growing up and facing life.

"It was very difficult for me during the 1999 bombing, and even more so to hear stories that we were a bad nation. I spoke with my father every day."

The following year, he had to say goodbye to him. Prince Tomislav passed away on St Peter's Day in 2000 at King Alexander's villa.

 "When he was dying, I was in Oplenac with my mother and a friend from Britain. He was seriously ill, and we expected the worst. I saw him that morning, and he spoke about how much he loved us. We gave him tea. It means a lot to me that we were with him in his final moments," says Prince Mihailo, adding that since then, Queen Maria’s house, where many of their belongings are still kept, has been locked, as the government uses it as a representative building.

However, the turning point for the Prince came in 2003. Just before turning 18, he decided to put his studies on hold and came to Belgrade alone. For a few months, he lived with a friend before briefly renting a flat in New Belgrade

"I came to find my roots, to understand who I am. Three years after my father’s death, I was fascinated that he had spent the last decade of his life here, even though he had everything in England. Because of my father’s living expenses in Serbia, we even had to sell the farm in England—only a small portion and the house, where Đorđe now lives, remained. I wanted to understand what drew my
"That decision to come may have been the best investment of my life—I began learning about our faith. Although I had attended services from a young age, I had never truly understood them. Patriarch Pavle gave his blessing for me to take lessons at the Patriarchate and was very happy about this step I took. We often had lunch together—I loved listening to him," he recalls, adding:

"Now, almost every year, I go to Hilandar. It helps me reconnect with myself and reflect on where I have gone wrong. My father did a lot to help Hilandar, and I feel happy when I see the cross around Abbot Methodius’s neck inscribed with the name ‘King Peter I’."
Then came the difficult year of 2004 and the pogrom in Kosovo and Metohija. By that time, Princess Linda had already settled in Gračanica.

"I travelled by bus from Belgrade, with Serbian licence plates. There was tension. I looked through the window, wondering if something would happen. In May 2004, we donated computers to a school in Kosovska Mitrovica. I looked at those children and thought—I’m only here for three days, and it is so difficult to witness all of this: the enclaves, the bridge over the Ibar, the hatred from the other side… And they are here every day. How much harder must it be for them?"

He then travelled the world, trying to help in any way he could. The Serbs in Kosovo and Metohija did not even have electricity.

"I even met with Senator George Voinovich. My mother sent information from the field, and I spoke with him about what was realistically possible. A lot was accomplished, and the Serbs did get electricity—but I cannot claim credit for that," he says, adding that he also travelled to Australia with the Serbian Church in 2009.

Next came his studies at the renowned London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE)..

"Because of my international travels and lobbying, I wanted to study international politics. But I realised that I could not enter the political sphere. As a Karađorđević, I must remain neutral. Even today, some criticise King Alexander for not having been crowned, failing to understand that he led the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes and respected all religions and nations. The great benefit and freedom I have is that I do not owe allegiance to any political party—I am free to think about culture, sport, and the economy."

Prince Mihailo Karađorđević at the King Peter I Karađorđević Endowment Winery

In the meantime, in Belgrade, he met Ljubica, who would become his life partner. They married in London while he was pursuing his Master’s degree in international business.

"Only a few of our closest friends from England attended—it was just a formality for future British documentation for Ljubica. The real wedding took place in Oplenac.".

He has property in Britain, British citizenship, an excellent education, but there was no dilemma—he chose to live in Topola.

"I never felt like an Englishman in any way. The wars and the bombings surely contributed to that. In fact, I always felt like, as the English say, an ‘underdog’—someone who starts with fewer chances of success," he says, and continues::

"To work a regular job in England and be part of the system, or to come to Serbia—a country rising from the ashes like a phoenix after the bombings—bring knowledge, and help change things for the better? I never hesitated."

His Master’s thesis focused on so-called joint ventures—how a company in Serbia could cooperate with foreign firms, what the benefits and obstacles were. At its core, it was about how to stop the brain drain.

"I wanted something I could apply in real life. I work in real estate, I’m an entrepreneur, as is my wife, who runs a marketing company. We bought land in Topola and have projects in the works, though it is too early to talk about them. I have never received anything from anyone. We were never rich, but we were not poor either—most of what we had come from my mother’s side. We do not own any property from the former Karađorđević estate. They refuse to resolve restitution for us, but we are not giving up our claims," he says, adding:

"Honestly, we could be anywhere in the world as private business owners. But I would never raise my children in a place where I do not feel comfortable. However, I would love for Serbs to recognise their own values and use them. We cannot expect someone else to come and fix things for us. Look at Topola—a place with such wealth and history, yet so underutilised."
For this reason, they are doing a lot through their foundation, symbolically named "Koreni" (Roots). He says he is ambitious and even a perfectionist..

"But it is not easy in a country where many still hold communist beliefs and eagerly wait for me to make a mistake. I have to be careful—it is a great burden and responsibility..."

KING PETER I KARAĐORĐEVIĆ ENDOWMENT WINERY

"Our only great concern is that Oplenac does not fall into ruin, and then, probably, into privatisation."

King Peter I Karađorđević Endowment Winery, built by King Alexander.

To the left of the entrance stands a 4,000-litre barrel, gifted to King Peter in 1909 by Petar Joksić, grandson of Karađorđe’s buljubaša (military commander). It bears the inscription: "He who does not know that ruby wine must be drunk is not a man, but a degenerate—may the earth curse him." To the right, there are three barrels from 1922, when Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes agreed to each gift one to King Alexander for his wedding. However, the Croats betrayed the agreement, so the largest barrel was brought instead.

"I dislike when people say that King Alexander was to blame for creating Yugoslavia and that this is why everything happened in the 1990s. And almost 60 years after his death! That’s like founding a company, then someone else takes it, ruins it, and you’re blamed," the Prince says angrily:

"And the historical context must be taken into account—three consecutive wars, a quarter of the population lost in the Great War… To give our country an advantage, to have strength in numbers, they created the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes, which was renamed Yugoslavia in 1929. Grandfather Alexander genuinely believed in it—you can see this in the fact that his sons bore Serbian, Croatian, and Slovenian names: Petar, Tomislav, and Andrej. But he never had the chance to realise all his ideas."
The young princesses run through the winery.

"Do you know what we saw?" Isidora’s eyes widen.

"She wants to say that we constantly have jackals around the house," Princess Ljubica shows a recording.

King Peter I Karađorđević Endowment Winery in Oplenac -  Photo Credit: Zorana Jevtić

It is no surprise—it is on a clearing, deep in the forest. They already have a stud farm. A paradise. They bought the land from the Marinković family, descendants of Karađorđe’s brother Marinko.

We descend two floors underground, where barrels full of wine are stored. The Prince explains that in 1944, Soviet Red Army soldiers emptied these very barrels, spilling all the royal wine. But one clever peasant had an idea—he hid bottles of wine inside barrel number 48. When the Russians knocked on it to check if it was full, the hollow sound made them believe it was empty, and they left it untouched. Even today, under layers of dust and locked behind a padlock, those bottles remain intact. And the elevator still works—the first of its kind in the region—used to distribute Oplenac wine across Serbia. The same wine that is now being wasted because the Endowment is caught in legal limbo

"We own nothing in the Endowment. The Board of Trustees consists of representatives of the family (appointed by the Crown Prince), the state, the municipality, and the church. And all we have is the immense worry that Oplenac will fall into ruin and eventually into privatisation. The Endowment is allowed to use the museum, the church, and the winery—but without the vineyards. It cannot even take out a loan to develop anything, because it owns nothing. Everything is deteriorating."