74 PERSPECTIVES ON BUSINESS AND ECONOMICS | VOL 44 | 2026 identical to those in Europe (Rivera, 2008). They also emphasized a Catholic heritage, straying from any religious diversity. For example, a CNTB guide wrote, “Croatia is a country that is essentially both Mediterranean and Central European in character… preserved old Mediterranean towns with narrow streets and stone houses reminiscent of those found in parts of Italy, as well as spacious, green coastal meadows with dry stone walls which give the appearance of having been transposed from the Irish countryside” (Rivera, 2008, p. 621). As these examples show, the CNTB wanted to portray Croatia as identical as possible to its Western European neighbors. However, the board ignored rebuilding its own cultural heritage. The CNTB also changed geographic descriptions of Croatia. Tourism brochures increasingly identified Croatia with Western Europe (growing from 35% to 78% of brochures) and the Mediterranean (19%), while references to the Balkans, Eastern Europe, and borderland identities declined substantially (Rivera, 2008). This dissociation of Croatia from Eastern Europe served both marketing and nationalist purposes. But in the processes, Croatia did not take steps through its marketing for international audiences to highlight its cultural distinctiveness from the rest of the world. These extensive efforts were a huge success. By 2005, less than a decade after the conflict ended, Croatia’s tourism numbers had returned to prewar levels (Croatian Bureau of Statistics, 2013). Tourism professionals credited the marketing campaign as the single biggest factor in the industry’s recovery (Rivera, 2008). The investment was not limited to immediately after the war but stretched well into the twenty-first century. In 2013, the Croatian Ministry of Tourism and Sport launched a Tourism Development Strategy, investing €7B in the tourism sector, largely for constructing new hotels and resorts (Government of the Republic of Croatia, 2013). By investing so much in lodgings, Croatia was effectively ignoring issues of overtourism in areas like Dubrovnik. This strategy achieved the economic goal of attracting tourists but failed to plan how to manage them once they arrived, not least adequate protection of tangible and intangible heritage. Comparing Dubrovnik to Vukovar and to Bosnia and Herzegovina How Croatia chose to rebuild—by disregarding the Homeland War rather than acknowledging it—becomes clearer when compared to other former Yugoslav states. War memorials in Dubrovnik, unlike memorials in Bosnia and Herzegovina, are hidden and lack emotion. Bosnia and Herzegovina’s attempts at commemoration can be seen in its capital city Sarajevo, where an installation called the Sarajevo Roses marks, with red resin filled into impact craters on the pavement, everywhere that individual mortar shells killed three or more people during the country’s own war of independence. Mostar, another city in Bosnia and Herzegovina, memorialized its most famous monument, the Old Bridge. Destroyed in the war, the bridge was rebuilt 11 years later. A remnant of the original bridge now bears the inscription “Don’t Forget '93,” the year in which the bridge was destroyed (Wise, 2011). Dubrovnik’s memorials, on the other hand, are in less noticeable locations and less emotionally striking. Compared to Bosnia and Herzegovina, Dubrovnik’s plaque memorial (see Fig. 1) is inconspicuous, emotionless, and insignificant. It is not in a place sure to be seen, as is the case with the Old Bridge, which dominates the visitor experience in Mostar. The contrast—between two immediately adjacent countries both once part of Yugoslavia and torn by conflicts in the same period—provides context for how Croatia could have addressed its cultural and historic intangibles more centrally. During the siege of Dubrovnik, the Institute for the Restoration of Dubrovnik, the Croatian Institute for the Protection of Cultural Heritage, and UNESCO began cataloging all damages and making emergency repairs. A formal restoration plan followed in February 1993, with a timeline for the project. By 2000, the Old City’s stone and rooftops had been fully rebuilt. (City of Dubrovnik, n.d.-b). Dubrovnik’s rapid response to architectural destruction from the war was not the case for other sieges across the country. On the contrary, the response to rebuilding the town of Vukovar was different. Vukovar, in easternmost Croatia bordering Serbia, was besieged beginning in August 1991 (Vukovarski Vodotoranj, 2022). For three months, the town was surrounded by the JNA. About 85% of all buildings were destroyed. In November, Vukovar was taken over by the JNA and other Serb forces, ending the siege. Rather than being rapidly rebuilt, Vukovar remained in rubble. Even in 2026, some structures damaged during the siege still stand, including the 50-m Vukovar Water Tower that endured more than 600 direct hits during the siege. The tower was restored after fundraising efforts in 2016, but not in a way one would expect. The tower was refurbished for structural integrity, but the marks of war were left, transforming the tower into a memorial museum, scars and all: a monument to the resilience of the town. The tower stands as a “symbol of Croatian unity,” used to “promote and preserve the rich cultur-
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