Montenegro is no stranger to grand investment announcements, but few have generated as much intrigue as the news that Dubai Square Mall — a mega-project valued at 49 billion dollars globally, with a Montenegrin extension planned as part of regional expansion — could break ground within three years. The announcement, widely circulated on Analitika, local business portals and social media, has sparked reactions ranging from enthusiasm to anxiety. The project has become a lens through which Montenegro’s complicated relationship with foreign investment, urban development, and economic dependency can be examined.
For many, the news signals opportunity. Montenegro’s economy has long depended on external capital, especially in real estate, tourism and construction. A project of this scale carries obvious attractions: construction jobs, retail employment, increased tax revenue, new supply-chain networks, and a symbolic association with one of the world’s most ambitious retail conglomerates. In a region where high-value private investment is inconsistent, the arrival of a global developer can be interpreted as validation — a sign that Montenegro is seen as stable, safe, EU-oriented and increasingly desirable.
But beneath the surface enthusiasm lie deeper concerns — concerns that have become familiar to Montenegro in the past 15 years of foreign-investment-driven development. Locals question whether a mega-mall fits the urban scale or social needs of their cities. Some warn that the country risks becoming an “investment playground” where foreign developers shape urban identity while municipal authorities scramble to adjust infrastructure retroactively. And many ask, with rising frustration, whether such projects truly generate long-term value for Montenegrins — or merely contribute to speculative, consumption-driven growth that inflates real-estate prices while widening inequality.
The debate is most intense in Podgorica and coastal municipalities, where public infrastructure already struggles to keep pace with rapid population inflows. Montenegro’s transport corridors, utilities networks and zoning regimes are patchwork systems stretched by seasonal tourism, construction booms and uneven planning. A mega-mall may stimulate economic activity, but it also places immense pressure on road networks, water supply, waste-management systems and public mobility.
Urban planners interviewed by local portals argue that Montenegro cannot continue approving large-scale developments without a coherent national urban strategy. Past experience — from Budva’s chaotic waterfront growth to Tivat’s ultra-high-end enclaves — demonstrates the cost of ad-hoc zoning. Developers build efficiently; governments catch up inefficiently. The result is a pattern of uncoordinated urban expansion that benefits investors in the short term but burdens municipalities in the long term.
Environmental concerns also loom large. Montenegro markets itself as an ecological state, yet major developments often test the country’s ability to enforce environmental standards. A mall of this scale will require vast land use, constant resource input, and new transport infrastructure — all of which may clash with Montenegro’s fragile ecological balance. Activists argue that while hotels, ports and tourism villages at least align with the national strategy of “sustainable high-end tourism,” a mega-mall risks being the wrong model at the wrong time.
Then there is the retail question. Montenegro’s domestic retail ecosystem is small and already dominated by foreign brands, with limited space for local producers. A mega-mall threatens to accelerate this trend. Small businesses fear displacement. Local manufacturers and artisans fear being priced out of premium retail spaces. Economists warn that without protective policies or local-sourcing requirements, such developments funnel profits outbound, not into Montenegro’s productive base.
Yet supporters counter that Montenegro cannot afford to be selective. The economy needs diversification beyond tourism and real estate. Retail development, logistics, entertainment and services can create thousands of jobs and broaden the economic structure. They point to success stories such as Podgorica’s Delta City 15 years ago — initially controversial, now a fixture of the city’s economy and social life.
What the Dubai Square Mall debate exposes is a deeper tension: Montenegro wants investment, but not dependency; growth, but not distortion; modernisation, but not identity loss.
The country’s challenge is not whether to accept or reject foreign mega-projects — but how to integrate them into a development framework that strengthens Montenegro rather than stretches its limits. This means zoning reform, environmental enforcement, infrastructure planning, and clear rules around local-participation requirements.
If Montenegro embraces this project strategically — with transparency, regulation and long-term vision — a mega-mall could anchor new jobs and new urban opportunities. But if it is rushed, politicised or poorly integrated, it risks becoming another symbol of unbalanced development: a shiny monument towering above unresolved local problems.
The project’s next steps will reveal which path Montenegro intends to take.
