How the Flamingo Revolution Awakened Albania
Ambra Imeraj explores how a local environmental protest evolved into one of Albania's largest civic movements in recent years. Examining the controversy surrounding the Zvërnec development, she argues that the Flamingo Revolution is about far more than protecting a wetland, it is a powerful call for transparency, accountability and democratic participation in Albania's future.
On 30 May 2026, a video showing private security guards dragging a protester from a fenced-off section of coastline near Zvërnec spread across Albanian social media. Within days, thousands were marching through Tirana carrying pink flamingos and chanting a slogan that would come to define the movement: “Shqipëria nuk është në shitje” (“Albania is not for sale”).
“At its centre is a luxury tourism project planned next to the protected Vjosa-Narta landscape, one of the Mediterranean's most important wetland ecosystems.”
What began as a dispute over access to land has since grown into Albania’s largest environmental protest in years. At its centre is a luxury tourism project planned next to the protected Vjosa-Narta landscape, one of the Mediterranean's most important wetland ecosystems, home to more than 200 bird species and over 70 endangered species. Yet the conflict is no longer only about wildlife. It has evolved into a national debate about transparency, corruption and who gets to decide the future of Albania's coastline.
When I first came across this story, I assumed it was another environmental dispute that would briefly dominate the news before fading away. But it has now been more than a month of daily protests in Albania’s capital, Tirana, and the protesters are not backing down. What started as an environmental cause and confusion over land ownership has transformed into a movement questioning the entire institutional system in Albania.
The Kushner Connection
International attention first turned to Albania in 2024 when companies linked to Jared Kushner’s investment fund, Affinity Partners, received preliminary approval for a luxury resort on Sazan Island, a former military base and one of Albania's most ecologically and historically valuable coastal sites. Around the same time, another luxury tourism project emerged near Zvërnec and the Narta Lagoon. Although the two developments are entirely separate, they quickly became intertwined in public perception, reinforcing fears that Albania's coastline was being transformed into a chain of exclusive resorts catering primarily to foreign investors.
The involvement of Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump propelled what might otherwise have remained a local planning dispute into international headlines, drawing global attention to concerns over environmental protection, transparency and public consultation. Subsequent reporting clarified that Affinity Partners is not financing or developing the Zvërnec project. Instead, ownership documents point to Sazan Real Estate Development LLC (SRED), registered in Qatar in 2025. Through a network of holding companies, control appears concentrated in the hands of Syrian billionaire brothers Moutaz and Ramez Al-Khayyat. Yet the ownership trail stretches through companies registered in Luxembourg, Delaware and the Netherlands, making it remarkably difficult to identify the project's ultimate beneficiaries.
“If people cannot clearly see who is making decisions about their coastline, it becomes much harder to trust that those decisions are being made in the public interest.”
To me, that complexity matters just as much as the environmental concerns. When ownership is hidden behind layers of international companies, accountability becomes increasingly difficult. Citizens, journalists and even public institutions struggle to understand who ultimately profits from projects that fundamentally reshape public landscapes. Whether these corporate structures are entirely legal is not the central issue. The problem is that a lack of transparency inevitably fuels suspicion. If people cannot clearly see who is making decisions about their coastline, it becomes much harder to trust that those decisions are being made in the public interest.
The turning point came in late May, when reports of fencing and construction activity prompted demonstrations in Zvërnec. Clashes between protesters and private security guards, followed by images of bleeding demonstrators, barbed wire and threatened flamingo habitats, spread rapidly across social media, triggering nationwide outrage.
The flamingo soon became the symbol of a movement defending not only a protected wetland but Albania’s natural heritage. Demonstrators began demanding transparency, accountability in land ownership, protection of public spaces and, for many, the resignation of Prime Minister Edi Rama. What started as an environmental protest quickly transformed into one of the country’s largest civic movements in years: the Flamingo Revolution.
Rama’s Vision Versus the Protesters' Vision
Prime Minister Edi Rama has remained firm in his support for the development. Although he later acknowledged that installing barbed-wire fencing had been a mistake and ordered its removal, he has consistently defended the project itself, arguing that large-scale investment is essential for Albania's economic transformation. From his perspective, luxury tourism represents an opportunity to create jobs, attract foreign investment and position Albania as a leading Mediterranean destination. Albania has worked hard to strengthen its economy and raise its international profile and tourism has played an important role in that success. However, the protesters are not opposing development itself, rather, they are questioning whether it can truly be called progress when citizens feel excluded from the decisions that reshape their own country.
As Albania continues its path towards European Union membership, the European Commission has stressed that environmental protection, public participation and the rule of law are essential conditions of accession. This includes requirements such as proper environmental impact assessments, transparent decision-making processes in land use and development projects, legal clarity over property ownership, and consultation with affected communities before projects are approved.
The Flamingo Revolution has become a test of whether these standards are being respected in practice. The protests reflect concerns that decisions are being made without sufficient transparency, that public participation is limited or symbolic rather than meaningful, and that legal safeguards around environmental protection and land ownership are not being fully enforced. In that sense, the movement has turned into a wider question of whether Albania is prepared to match its European ambitions with the standards of transparency, accountability and rule of law that EU membership requires.
Although investigations into the land acquisition process continue and important questions surrounding ownership remain unresolved, the movement itself has already left a lasting mark. What began as an effort to protect a wetland has grown into one of Albania's most significant civic movements in recent years, inspiring demonstrations not only across the country but also among Albanian communities abroad.
“This is the first time I have witnessed Albanians mobilise on such a scale for a cause that transcends political parties.”
As someone who belongs to a generation born after the fall of communism, this is the first time I have witnessed Albanians mobilise on such a scale for a cause that transcends political parties. Growing up, I often sensed a feeling of resignation, that decisions were made by those in power and there was little point in challenging them. Perhaps some of that hesitation is a legacy of the communist regime, when speaking out caused violent consequences and silence became a means of survival. Even decades later, that fear can still echo through generations, creating the belief that ordinary citizens have little influence over the direction of their country.
That is why seeing the collective decision of all ages protest together, like never before, has given all Albanians confidence. Regardless of whether the Zvërnec development ultimately goes ahead, I believe something more fundamental has already changed. People who once felt powerless are discovering the strength of collective action. They are demanding transparency, questioning those in power and refusing to accept that decisions about public land should be made behind closed doors.
This movement is no longer only about protecting a lagoon or a flock of flamingos. It represents a society beginning to rediscover its own agency. If Albania wants to build a future that is both prosperous and democratic, transparency, meaningful public consultation and accountability must become the foundation of every major development, not an afterthought.
I am proud to see Albanians challenge the belief that they have no power. The greatest achievement of the Flamingo Revolution may not be whether one resort is built or stopped, but that it has awakened a generation to the idea that democracy is not something exercised once every election cycle. It is something citizens defend, shape and demand every day. If that belief endures, then this movement will have protected far more than a coastline, it will have strengthened the democratic culture Albania needs to build its future.
Ambra Imeraj was born and raised in Albania and spent her teenage years in both Italy and the Netherlands. She began writing short stories and poetry at an early age, eventually turning her focus toward screenwriting. Ambra recently graduated from Maastricht University with a degree in European Studies, where she developed an interest in journalism. Drawing from her background, she is passionate about cross-cultural stories.