We cannot allow Albania to become a new Dubai
On the streets of Tirana, thousands of Albanians have raised cardboard flamingoes against a $1.4 billion luxury resort planned for Sazan Island — a former Soviet military base where Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump's firm intends to build what the government calls an eco-resort community. The protest, known as the 'Flamingo Revolution,' asks a question as old as development itself: who decides the fate of a nation's land, and in whose interest? Prime Minister Edi Rama sees foreign capital as a desert's long-awaited rain; his citizens see a landscape — and a way of life — being quietly sold.
- Bulldozers clearing Sazan Island's beaches last month turned abstract anxiety into visible alarm, galvanizing a protest movement that had been quietly organizing since January.
- Demonstrators carrying signs reading 'Nation Is Not For Sale' signal that the dispute has outgrown ecology — it now touches Albanian identity, sovereignty, and who tourism is ultimately meant to serve.
- Environmental groups point to a pattern: the Sazan resort, a new airport, and the opening of a protected lagoon to development together suggest a coordinated privatization of Albania's natural heritage.
- Prime Minister Rama refuses to pause the project, dismissing opposition as manipulation, while an independent expert notes that the overwhelming majority of objections target the process, not Kushner's origins.
- With no public consultation held and no permits made available for scrutiny, the approval process itself has become as contested as the resort — transparency is now the central battleground.
Thousands of Albanians marched through Tirana this week carrying cardboard flamingoes — a deliberate symbol of resistance against a $1.4 billion luxury resort planned for Sazan Island by Jared Kushner, Ivanka Trump, and their firm Affinity Partners. The flamingo was chosen carefully: the birds use the 111-acre coastal island as a breeding ground and migratory stopover, and environmental groups argue the project threatens both the species and the surrounding ecosystem.
Sazan Island's history is layered and difficult. A Soviet military installation and chemical weapons depot during the Cold War, its waters remain contaminated with wartime mines and unexploded ordnance. When Kushner's team arrived with capital, Albanian officials saw an opportunity to transform a hazardous, inaccessible landscape into something functional. Prime Minister Edi Rama granted preliminary approval in January 2025, describing the development as an 'eco-resort community' that would generate an estimated four billion euros — roughly fifteen percent of Albania's GDP.
But when bulldozers appeared on the beach last month, opposition that had been building since January crystallized into open protest. More than forty environmental organizations had already written to the government urging a halt. Now demonstrators added a political dimension, carrying signs reading 'I Don't Want Albania Like Dubai' and voicing fears that foreign capital was reshaping the country's identity. Eva Kushova of the Destination Management Organization put it plainly: Albania, she argued, should serve its own people before it serves luxury tourism.
Activists also pointed to a broader pattern — the Sazan project sits alongside a new airport and the opening of a protected lagoon to resort development, suggesting a systematic privatization of Albania's natural inheritance. Environmental director Aleksandr Trajce identified the core grievance as 'total lack of transparency': no public consultation, no accessible permits, simply a government decision followed by machinery in motion.
Rama offered dialogue but drew a firm line, declaring the investment would not stop while he remained in office and framing some opposition as manipulation. Independent observers noted, however, that the protests are directed at the project and its opaque approval process — not at Kushner's identity. What remains unresolved is whether civic and ecological pressure can redirect a development backed by both American capital and Albanian state will, or whether the island's flamingoes, like its buried mines, will simply be absorbed into someone else's vision of the future.
In the streets of Tirana this week, thousands of Albanians marched through the capital carrying cardboard cutouts of flamingoes—a peculiar and pointed symbol of resistance against one of the country's most ambitious development projects. The "Flamingo Revolution," as the movement has come to be known, targets a $1.4 billion luxury resort planned for Sazan Island, a 111-acre coastal property that Jared Kushner, his wife Ivanka Trump, and their private equity firm Affinity Partners announced in 2024. The flamingo mascot is no accident: the birds use the island as a breeding ground and stopover point during migration, and environmental groups argue the resort threatens their survival and the broader ecosystem of the region.
Sazan Island carries a complicated history. During the Cold War, it served as a Soviet military installation and chemical weapons depot, its waters contaminated with thousands of World War II-era mines, artillery shells, and naval explosives. The Albanian government had long wanted to develop the island but lacked the resources to clear the hazards. When Kushner's team arrived with capital and ambition, the prospect of transforming a dangerous, unusable landscape into a functioning destination seemed to many officials like a solution. Prime Minister Edi Rama granted preliminary approval in January 2025, describing the project as an "eco-resort community" that would restore natural beauty while generating an estimated 4 billion euros in economic value—roughly 15 percent of Albania's entire GDP. "We need luxury tourism like a desert needs water," Rama told the Guardian, his enthusiasm unmistakable.
But the arrival of construction equipment last month, and videos of bulldozers clearing the beach, crystallized opposition that had been building since January, when more than 40 environmental organizations sent a letter to the government urging a halt to the project. The concerns were ecological: the island's role as a migratory corridor, the disruption of local biodiversity, the inadequacy of public consultation. Yet the protests quickly broadened into something more political. Demonstrators carried signs reading "Nation Is Not For Sale" and "I Don't Want Albania Like Dubai," signaling anxiety about foreign capital reshaping the country's identity and priorities. Eva Kushova, executive director of the Destination Management Organization, articulated the fear plainly: "We are a small country, and we cannot allow Albania to become a new Dubai. The vision of this government is to transform Albania into a country of skyscrapers and elite tourism, but we believe Albania should first serve its own people and not destroy its history and nature for the sake of luxury tourism."
Kushova and others pointed to a larger pattern. The Sazan resort is not an isolated project but part of a coordinated development agenda that includes a new airport and the opening of the Narta-Zvernec protected lagoon to resort development. The cumulative effect, protesters argued, amounts to a wholesale privatization of Albania's natural heritage for the benefit of foreign investors and the wealthy elite. Aleksandr Trajce, director of the Protection and Preservation of the Natural Environment in Albania, zeroed in on what he saw as the core problem: "the total lack of transparency" in the approval process. No public consultation had occurred. No permits were made available for scrutiny. The government had simply decided, and the machinery of development had begun to move.
Rama responded to the protests by offering dialogue but refusing to halt the project. "There is absolutely no chance that the investment will stop as long as I am here," he declared, framing opposition as the work of "manipulators" and suggesting that some protesters were spreading false claims about the land being sold to Israel or invoking Kushner's religious identity as evidence of hidden agendas. An Albania expert quoted by Politico pushed back against such characterizations, noting that the "overwhelming majority of objections are directed at the project and the decision-making process surrounding it." The dispute, in other words, is not about Kushner's background but about whether a small nation can afford to cede control of its natural resources to foreign capital without meaningful public input.
What unfolds now is a test of whether environmental and civic concerns can slow or redirect a project backed by both American wealth and Albanian government will. The flamingoes on cardboard are a reminder that some things—migration routes, breeding grounds, the texture of a landscape—cannot be easily monetized or restored once they are gone. Rama insists the project will proceed. The protesters say they will not leave. The island itself, with its buried mines and Soviet bunkers, remains a landscape caught between its past and an uncertain future.
Citações Notáveis
We need luxury tourism like a desert needs water. There is absolutely no chance that the investment will stop as long as I am here.— Prime Minister Edi Rama
We are a small country, and we cannot allow Albania to become a new Dubai. Albania should first serve its own people and not destroy its history and nature for the sake of luxury tourism.— Eva Kushova, Destination Management Organization
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why flamingoes? Why that specific bird as the symbol?
Because they actually use the island. It's not abstract—the birds migrate through, they breed there, and the resort threatens that directly. It's a way of saying: this isn't just about money or politics, it's about something living that will be displaced.
But Rama is right that the island was unusable before. Isn't development better than leaving it as a minefield?
That's the tension. Yes, the island was dangerous and wasted. But the question is who decides what happens next, and on what terms. The protesters aren't saying "leave it alone." They're saying "we weren't asked, we weren't told, and now bulldozers are here."
So it's really about transparency, not the resort itself?
Partly. But transparency and the resort are linked. If the government had consulted, if permits were public, if there was real dialogue—maybe people would accept it, maybe not. But they weren't given the chance to weigh in. That's what galvanized them.
Rama says this brings 4 billion euros. That's enormous for a small country. How do you argue against that?
By asking: enormous for whom? If the wealth flows to foreign investors and the wealthy, and the environmental cost is borne by everyone, that's not a fair trade. Kushova's point is that Albania should develop for Albanians first, not become a playground for luxury tourism.
Is there a real risk the flamingoes disappear?
Yes. Migratory birds depend on stopover points. If you bulldoze the habitat, they go elsewhere or die. It's not reversible. Once that ecological function is gone, you can't rebuild it with money.
What happens next?
Rama has offered dialogue but said the project won't stop. The protesters say they won't leave. It's a standoff between a government convinced of the economic necessity and a movement convinced of the ecological and democratic cost. Someone has to give.