completely destroy that wild region
On the Adriatic coast of Albania, a collision is unfolding between the logic of large capital and the logic of living ecosystems. Jared Kushner's investment firm has proposed a €4 billion luxury resort on protected wetlands near Vlora — a project the Albanian government welcomes as economic transformation and protesters condemn as environmental erasure. Night after night in Tirana, citizens carrying pink flamingos are asking a question older than any development deal: whether some places belong to the future of commerce, or to the future of the earth itself.
- Crowds gather nightly outside the Albanian prime minister's office — not organized by opposition parties, but by citizens alarmed that a €4 billion resort could swallow one of the region's last wild coastal ecosystems.
- Ecologists warn the planned 10,000-room complex on Sazan island and Zvernec wetlands would obliterate habitat for flamingos and dozens of other protected species, calling the damage irreversible.
- Protesters are as troubled by what they cannot see as by what they can — negotiations between Kushner's Affinity Partners and the Albanian government have proceeded since 2024 with little public disclosure, fueling signs reading 'Albania is not for sale.'
- Prime Minister Rama has dismissed the movement as foreign-orchestrated misinformation, pointing fingers at Greece, while Kushner's partner insists the project embodies 'responsible stewardship' — a framing protesters flatly reject.
- The shadow of Belgrade looms: Kushner abandoned a similar hotel project there after a minister's arrest and sustained local resistance, leaving open the question of whether Albania's protests will reach the same tipping point.
Something has shifted on the streets of Tirana. Night after night, crowds gather outside Prime Minister Edi Rama's office — not the usual opposition machinery, but young people carrying pink flamingos, a symbol chosen with deliberate precision. Their target is a proposed luxury resort backed by Jared Kushner's investment firm, Affinity Partners, which would span Sazan island and the protected wetlands of Zvernec near Vlora. At roughly 10,000 hotel rooms and a valuation of €4 billion, the project amounts to a new city pressed into one of the region's last wild coastal spaces.
Ecologist Joni Vorpsi of PPNEA-BirdLife Albania has been unsparing in her assessment: the development would completely destroy the wild region. The flamingos the protesters carry are not merely symbols — they are a protected species, as are many other animals whose survival depends on the wetland ecosystem. The argument being made in the streets is not about jobs or investment scale. It is about whether certain places should remain beyond the reach of development, regardless of economic promise.
What has deepened the anger is the opacity surrounding the deal. Negotiations between Affinity Partners and the Albanian government have been underway since 2024, yet the public has been given little to examine. Signs declaring 'Albania is not for sale' reflect anxieties about foreign land ownership that are not easily dismissed in a country whose property records remain tangled from decades of Communist nationalization and chaotic post-Soviet privatization.
Rama has responded by calling protesters well-meaning but misinformed, and by framing the movement as a 'hybrid war' driven by Greek envy of Albania's tourism growth — an accusation that stops well short of engaging the environmental substance. Kushner's partner Asher Abehsera, meanwhile, speaks of responsible stewardship and community benefit. Neither response has thinned the crowds.
The Belgrade precedent hangs over all of it. Kushner pursued a Trump International Hotel there, faced fierce opposition, watched a government minister get arrested on related charges, and ultimately withdrew. Whether Albania traces the same arc is unresolved. For now, the flamingos keep appearing each night, and the protesters show no sign of leaving.
On the streets of Tirana this week, something unusual has been happening—not because protests are rare in Albania's capital, but because these ones feel different. Night after night, crowds have gathered outside Prime Minister Edi Rama's office, and they are not the usual opposition party machinery. Mixed among them are young people carrying pink flamingos, a symbol borrowed from protest movements elsewhere but deployed here with very specific intent: to draw attention to what they say is an environmental catastrophe in the making.
The target of their anger is a proposed luxury resort development on Albania's Adriatic coast, backed by Jared Kushner's investment firm, Affinity Partners. The project would span Sazan island and a site near Vlora called Zvernec, in an area designated as protected wetlands. According to the developers' own plans, the complex would include roughly 10,000 hotel rooms—essentially a new city carved into one of the region's last wild spaces. The investment is valued at €4 billion, and Prime Minister Rama has embraced it enthusiastically, seeing it as a transformative opportunity for Albania's economy.
But the protesters see something else entirely. Joni Vorpsi, an ecologist with PPNEA-BirdLife Albania, put it plainly: the development would "completely destroy that wild region." The flamingos in question are a protected species. So are numerous other animals that depend on the wetlands ecosystem. The protesters are not arguing about whether the investment is large or whether it might create jobs. They are arguing that some things should not be built on, no matter the economic promise.
What has sharpened their anger, though, is not just the environmental threat but what they perceive as a lack of transparency. Negotiations between Affinity Partners and the Albanian government have been underway since 2024, yet details remain opaque to the public. Some protesters have carried signs declaring that "Albania is not for sale," reflecting anxiety about foreign ownership of Albanian land. The government counters that the land in question is privately owned and was acquired through proper channels. But Albania's history complicates that claim. Decades of Communist-era nationalization followed by chaotic privatization have left ownership records tangled and disputed. Whether this particular transaction was as straightforward as officials claim is harder to verify than they suggest.
Prime Minister Rama has responded to the protests with a mixture of dismissal and geopolitical accusation. He has called the demonstrators "well-meaning" but "misinformed" about environmental impacts, insisting the project will bring massive benefits and improved infrastructure. More pointedly, he has framed the protests as part of a "hybrid war" orchestrated by regional competitors—specifically Greece—envious of Albania's growing tourism sector. He even published what amounted to a public rebuke of former Greek Prime Minister Aleksis Tsipras. The implication is clear: these are not genuine grassroots concerns but foreign manipulation.
Asher Abehsera, Kushner's business partner on the project, has offered reassurances of his own. The development, he says, is focused on "responsible stewardship" and environmental enhancement alongside job creation. Everything is above board. Everything will be fine.
For Kushner, this moment carries an echo of recent history. In Belgrade, he pursued plans to build a Trump International Hotel. That project faced fierce local opposition as well. A government minister was arrested on abuse of office charges connected to the scheme. The pressure mounted. Earlier this year, Kushner withdrew from the Belgrade project entirely. Whether the same outcome awaits in Albania remains to be seen. For now, the pink flamingos continue to appear on Tirana's streets each night, and the protesters show no sign of dispersing.
Notable Quotes
The proposed development would be a new city with around 10,000 rooms and would completely destroy that wild region.— Joni Vorpsi, ecologist with PPNEA-BirdLife Albania
Our focus remains on responsible stewardship, environmental enhancement, job creation, and creating long-term value for local communities.— Asher Abehsera, Kushner's business partner
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why the flamingo specifically? It seems like an odd choice for an environmental protest.
It's borrowed from a protest movement in Belgrade—a yellow duck became the symbol there. Here, the flamingo works because it's literal. The birds actually live in those wetlands. It's not abstract; it's the thing that will be displaced.
But the government says this is misinformation, that the project won't harm the environment. How do protesters respond to that claim?
They point to the scale. Ten thousand hotel rooms in a protected wetland. That's not a small footprint. An ecologist I spoke with said it would "completely destroy that wild region." You can't build something that size without consequences.
The prime minister also suggested this is foreign interference—that Greece is behind it. Do the protesters actually have any connection to opposition parties?
Some of them explicitly reject the mainstream opposition. They're carrying signs calling for the imprisonment of the opposition leader too. This seems genuinely grassroots, not orchestrated. But that doesn't mean the government's claim is entirely baseless—it's just that the environmental concern appears to be the real driver.
Kushner abandoned a similar project in Belgrade. What changed there?
A minister was arrested on corruption charges. The pressure became too much. In Albania, we're not there yet. But the precedent exists. If enough people keep showing up, if the international attention grows, things can shift.
What does the government actually want from this deal?
Jobs, infrastructure, investment. Four billion euros is real money for a country like Albania. The government sees it as modernization. The protesters see it as selling off something irreplaceable for short-term gain.