On 30 May, residents and activists gathered beside Albania’s Narta Lagoon to protest against the fencing off of Pishë Poro beach, part of the protected Vjosa-Narta landscape.

The confrontation that followed transformed a long-running environmental campaign. Activists say private security guards dragged away a local resident, threw stones and used pepper spray while nearby police failed to intervene. Footage spread rapidly online, drawing young people, members of Albania’s diaspora and many first-time protesters onto the streets.

Flamingos, among the wetlands’ most recognisable inhabitants, appeared across placards and banners. The emerging ‘Flamingo Revolution’ was no longer only about wildlife: it had become a protest against corruption, political capture and a development model campaigners say transfers public land and natural wealth to powerful investors.

At the centre of the dispute are luxury tourism developments associated with US president Donald Trump’s daughter, Ivanka Trump, and her husband, Jared Kushner, planned for Sazan Island and the nearby Zvërnec peninsula, beside the Vjosa-Narta Protected Landscape.

Albanian prime minister Edi Rama has presented the projects as an opportunity to attract investment and turn the country into a high-end tourism destination. Campaigners instead see a system in which environmentally sensitive land is placed at the disposal of wealthy investors, with little meaningful public involvement.

A recent investigation by the Balkan Investigative Reporting Network found that the company developing the Zvërnec resort is registered through a network of Dutch companies and trusts, while its ultimate beneficial owners remain undisclosed. Campaigners say this opacity reinforces concerns about who stands to benefit from the development.

openDemocracy spoke to ornithologist Ledi Selgjekaj about what is already being lost in Vjosa-Narta, and to Lëvizja Bashkë activist Bora Mema, a member of the left-wing Lëvizja Bashkë party, about how the campaign became a wider political movement. The following interviews have been edited for length and clarity.

‘Connected changes that gradually weaken the whole ecosystem’

Ledi Selgjekaj is a biologist and bird expert at PPNEA, the Protection and Preservation of Natural Environment in Albania, the country’s BirdLife partner. She is completing a PhD focused on the behaviour and reproductive success of shorebirds in the Vjosa-Narta Protected Landscape.

You have spent five years monitoring birds in Vjosa-Narta. What changes have you witnessed yourself?

The main disturbance began with the construction of Vlora airport. It fragmented habitats, reduced ecological continuity and affected how species use the wider landscape.

It also limited the space available for wildlife movement, increasing pressure on ground-nesting birds. At the same time, the constant disturbance has affected sensitive species such as flamingos, which have been present for years but have struggled to breed successfully.

Recent works in the area have also led to the destruction of dune habitats, which are crucial for many species.

From a field perspective, these are not isolated impacts. They are connected changes that gradually weaken the whole ecosystem. With the planned resort and further infrastructure, there is a real concern that these pressures will intensify, pushing an already fragile wetland system closer to a point where it can no longer function as it does today.

Flamingos have become the movement’s defining symbol. Has that helped people understand what is at stake, or could the wider ecological damage be overlooked?

Flamingos are striking, familiar and present in large numbers in the Vjosa-Narta wetlands. They are closely tied to the identity of the place and are often seen as part of the landscape itself.

Many people recognise them from photographs and media coverage, making them an immediate and powerful way to connect the public with the wetlands.

In the context of the Albanian protests against recent development projects, the flamingo has come to represent a wider sense of shared natural heritage and concern for the whole ecosystem.

What action is now needed from the Albanian government and European institutions – and what would victory look like?

The European Parliament has already spoken clearly, calling for stronger protection of the Vjosa-Narta wetlands, including the repeal of the 2024 amendments to the Law on Protected Areas and a moratorium on new development in sensitive ecosystems until full compliance with EU nature standards is ensured.

Albania should halt current construction, repeal the recent amendments to the Law on Protected Areas and restore strong legal protection for this network.

Large-scale infrastructure and urban expansion that are incompatible with the ecosystem should be stopped, and decision-making must fully respect biodiversity protection and public participation.

That would represent a victory for the wetlands and the wider movement: a shift away from destructive development towards real protection, where Vjosa–Narta is safeguarded as a functioning natural landscape and conservation, biodiversity and sustainable local livelihoods are prioritised together.

‘People connected the dots’

Bora Mema is an activist with Lëvizja Bashkë, a left-wing Albanian political party that grew out of worker, student and social justice organising.

How did a campaign to protect Albania’s coastline and wetlands grow into a much broader revolt against corruption and political capture?

The campaign grew because the issue at its core is what David Harvey [distinguished professor in anthropology, earth and environmental sciences at the City University of New York] calls “accumulation through dispossession”, the blatant theft of public and private land to hand it over to oligarchs and drug traffickers.

What started as an environmental protest to save the ecosystems and wetlands of Zvërnec and Pishë Poro-Nartë, or the private lands of communities in the village, quickly exposed the deeper corruption of the state. People connected the dots: their protected natural areas were being fenced off and privatised for a $4.5bn luxury resort under the guise of “foreign investment”. Because the movement targets this entire system of looting public wealth, it naturally turned from a local environmental fight into a direct rebellion against three decades of corrupt political capture.

What was the turning point that brought so many young people, members of the diaspora and first-time protesters onto the streets?

The definitive turning point was 30 May 2026. During a peaceful protest against the luxury resort, private security forces violently dragged away and put a gun to the head of a citizen, threw stones and pepper-sprayed, while the state police just stood there and watched.

Activists from Lëvizja Bashkë caught this violence on camera while they supported the community, and the footage spread like wildfire on social media. Seeing state-supported corporate thugs attack peaceful citizens completely shattered public apathy. It pushed Gen Z, members of the diaspora, and thousands of first-time protesters to overcome their fear and take to the streets, turning the flamingo into a radical symbol of resistance.

What have activists achieved so far, and which responses from the government, prosecutors or European institutions came as a result of public pressure?

Public pressure has broken the traditional political narrative and forced the establishment onto the defensive.

First, the government is visibly panicking. Prime minister Edi Rama has tried to downplay the movement by minimising crowd sizes, claiming the project didn't even exist, and even wearing flamingo-printed T-shirts to try and hijack the symbol.

What happens next? What would victory look like, and how can the movement maintain its momentum beyond this particular development fight?

Victory looks like a complete rejection of the old political duopoly and a total systemic overhaul. It means permanently ending the process of accumulation through dispossession, revoking the "strategic investor" statuses used by oligarchs and money launderers, and ensuring public assets stay in the hands of the citizens. It also means seeing the corrupt ruling class held accountable, which is why people are chanting, “Rama in jail, Berisha in jail!”. [The latter refers to the former prime minister and current opposition leader, Sali Berisha, who has long been accused of links to organised crime and corruption, which he denies.]

To maintain momentum, the movement must stay completely independent from the traditional political establishment. It cannot let itself be co-opted by the mainstream opposition, who are just the other side of the same corrupt coin and initially failed to even oppose the luxury project. They should organise and understand that the power relies on them.