By Ditmir Bushati
Like many of the revolutions in Eastern Europe, the protests in Albania did not begin with a political speech or a plan. They began with a vision. In May, a peaceful protester in the southern coastal village of Zvërnec was dragged away by private security guards while police officers stood by as construction vehicles began work on a luxury resort project backed by Trump’s daughter and son-in-law, Ivanka and Jared Kushner, and strongly supported by the Albanian government.
The project aims to transform a precious and environmentally sensitive stretch of coastline — a nesting ground for flamingos — into a playground for the world’s wealthy. Every bit of it is stirring up outrage in a country where incomes remain low while a select few seem to prosper.
The title to the land in question is disputed. This is nothing new in Albania, where rival claims often overlap. The alleged owner is accused of falsifying ownership documents. He is also under investigation by the Special Prosecution Office against Corruption and Organized Crime for money laundering and international cocaine trafficking.
The fence on the beach. The inability to go out to sea. The bandits as a symbol of organized crime’s links to politics and the oligarchs. The concrete devouring the coastline. For many Albanians, that scene summed up a feeling that had been building for years, fueled above all by the construction in Tirana and along the coast. None of this was abstract. People live it every day. They didn’t need an ideology to understand it.
What followed was a chain reaction that highlighted how much popular discontent had built up. For three months, despite a scorching heatwave, thousands of Albanians have taken to the streets every day to demand more accountability and an end to corruption. Albanians living abroad, who make up about a third of the population, have helped keep the protests going.
The protest reflects a sentiment that has been building for years in many layers of society: opposition to a predatory model of capitalism, built at the expense of past and future generations — consuming the contribution of the former and destroying the prospects of the latter. Seen in this way, Zvërnec’s project is the last straw and at the same time a lens through which all Albanians can understand how they have been governed. The furies he has unleashed have opened a national debate about the country’s future: how Albania should develop, how decisions should be made, and whether citizens believe those decisions are made in their best interest.
This can be seen as a defining moment in Albanian history, comparable to the fall of communism and its grip on politics, culture and daily life in my country. The people leading these daily demonstrations were born after that fall. They did not grow up with the fears or reflexes of the communist era. They grew up in an open Albania: they traveled, studied and built lives connected to Europe and the wider world. They do not measure today’s Albania by its past. They measure it by what they believe their country is capable of becoming.
Their demands are neither radical nor ideological. Albanians want a functioning democracy with leaders who see themselves as servants of the people. They want institutions they can trust, transparent decisions, laws that apply equally to all, and the belief that public assets are administered for the benefit of the majority, not a privileged few.
So far, the government has not responded to the protesters’ demands, nor has it managed to quell them. It is tempting to describe the government’s response as a retreat. It is equally tempting to dismiss it as theater. In June, the government placed the protesters in the categories of hybrid warfare manipulation, of an “algorithmic proletariat,” or of simple hostility. In July, it overturned the June repertoire without completely denying it. It accepted a partial diagnosis, accompanied by a partial cure. It tried, without success, to appropriate the vocabulary of protest without abandoning the project and without revising the logic of development that produced the discontent.
It is equally important to understand what these protests are not.
Despite the attention paid to the Trump family and the resort's development, these demonstrations are not a rejection of foreign investment, nor of a luxury resort per se. This is a leaderless citizen revolt against the way power works, and a warning that public anger can no longer be ignored.
Albania remains, perhaps, the most pro-American society in Europe, shaped by decades of friendship and gratitude to the United States, and strongly committed to the Euro-Atlantic alliance. Albanians know that foreign investment, tourism, and private entrepreneurship are essential for economic growth.
The question is whether development can be accompanied by transparency, accountability, and public trust. These principles are not obstacles to investment. In the long run, they are among its strongest guarantees.
The flamingo that has been associated with these protests is just a symbol. The movement itself is about something much bigger: the belief that Albania’s natural heritage, its public institutions, and its future deserve careful stewardship. It is the first time that Albanians feel they can shape the national debate without waiting for political parties to take the lead. Experience teaches us that democracy depends not only on elections, but also on active citizenship among them.
The events unfolding in Albania are more than an internal matter and deserve to be more closely linked to the EU integration process. For years, discussions about Albania’s path to EU membership have focused on familiar concerns: the rule of law, corruption, oligarchic capture of the state, organized crime, and institutional weakness. Albanian protesters are demanding change in precisely these areas. They are doing what responsible citizens do in any democracy. The EU’s silence, maintained as an institutional stance, must give way to strict but fair oversight that supports Albanian society in meeting European standards.
Since the fall of communism in 1990, Albania has made remarkable progress. It joined NATO, strengthened its partnership with the United States, served as an anchor of stability in Southeast Europe, and moved steadily closer to the EU. The next phase of Albania's success will depend on something else. Economic growth must be accompanied by institutions that enjoy public trust and a political culture that welcomes accountability rather than fears it.
Analysis published for the journal International Politics and Society www.ips-journal.eu
