Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni's plan to take the next step to address "migrant pressure" in Italy has stalled. Italian migration centers set up in Albania stand empty. I went there to find out how the local community views the project.
This text has been auto-translated from Polish.
It began in mid-October 2024. That's when a ship carrying foreigners reached the port of Shëngjin, Albania. On board the Italian Border Guard ship were six Egyptians and a child Bangladeshi national. They were all sailing across the Mediterranean in the direction of Lampedusa - the first sliver of Italy, and the European Union, on their way from the African coast.
After a cursory determination of their nationality and a fitness check, those who could apply for international protection in Italy were selected from among the arrivals, as they had intended. The others were to undergo a fast-track asylum procedure in centers that the Italian government had built on Albanian soil.
Only men - who make up the vast majority of applicants - in good physical and mental condition are to be sent there, while women, children, the elderly and victims of torture are to be sent to Italy immediately.
According to the project, up to 36,000 requests for protection are to be processed at reception centers each year, or a maximum of 3,000 per month. Italian government head Giorgia Meloni argues that migrant outsourcing is necessary because Italy's asylum system is overloaded. What she fails to mention is that the number of male and female migrants who have arrived in Italy from North Africa has dropped by more than 60 percent in 2024 compared to 2023 - from nearly 140,000 to 52,000.
Either way, the plan received a warm welcome from European Commission head Ursula von der Leyen, who stated that "it is an example of out-of-the-box thinking, based on a fair sharing of responsibilities with third countries, in accordance with obligations under EU and international law."
However, no one predicted that none of the Egyptians and Banglians in question would spend more than a few days in Albanian facilities. This is the result of a court ruling in Rome, based on an earlier ruling by the Court of Justice of the EU, which concluded that their countries of origin could not be considered safe, and that it was therefore against EU law to subject migrants to a fast-track asylum procedure in a non-EU country.
The men were therefore transported to Bari in southern Italy. An attempt to transport a second group of Egyptian and Bangladeshi nationals to Albanian centers in early November ended the same way. Operations have since been halted, but Meloni has not yet said the last word.
"There is no turning back now"
I arrive in Shëngjin in mid-November. Although the temperatures are higher in Albania than in Poland, my hands are ossifying from the penetrating coastal wind. For now, the center in the city's port stands empty, not counting the Italian officers who guard the containers fenced off from the rest of the port by a high steel wall. This is the first point to which the migrants are to be brought. Here their health status is checked once again and key personal information is confirmed.
From here the foreigners are to be transported to a center near the village of Gjadër, half an hour away by car. This is already the right one, where they can stay for up to 28 days, because that's how long the fast-track asylum procedure is supposed to take. From this point, there are two directions - transport back to Italy, already granted refugee status, or deportation to their country of origin if that country is willing to take them back. The unofficial assumption is that migrants will opt out of taking the road to Italy if they are threatened with being "shipped" to Albania.
Besides, Italy is counting on the fact that most of those who end up in the centers in Albania will be deported after a month. That's why citizens of so-called safe countries, to which deportation is possible, would be sent there. The problem is that Italy considers countries to be safe that are not safe at all - at least not for everyone.
In a small, squalid harbor tavern, I meet a couple of policemen and carabinieri who moments earlier came out from behind the walls of the center.
- I leave in a few days. My 20-day shift is coming to an end, they will probably send someone to take my place," says one of them. A few days after our conversation, I learn that already more than half of the Italian officers have returned to their country. After all, who benefits from guarding empty rooms?
- And what do you think of this project? Maybe it will prove helpful to your country, after all, one hears a lot that migrants bring danger to Italy? - I pull the policeman's tongue. However, he looks at me from behind dark glasses for a moment, as if he doesn't know what I mean.
- Bullshit. There is always some crime in the cities, with or without migrants," he quips.
As we finish our conversation, just ahead of us a truck is hauling away the last batches of rubble left over from the construction of the center. - The project has taken off. There is no turning back now," I hear from a person close to the Italian embassy in Tirana. Giorgia Meloni has sacrificed too much to get the project off the ground. We're talking not only about his own reputation, but at least €600 million to be invested in reception center operations over the next five years.
Deal for political gain?
Shëngjin is a small tourist destination, living from season to season. In November, the buildings and streets are deserted. A few smoke one cigarette after another in the bars, a married couple leaves after Sunday mass. I hook up with individuals in establishments and on the seaside promenade about what they think of the development.
Most don't want to talk about the resorts. An Albanian friend convinces me that people are afraid to broach political topics in a country that still remembers brutal communism and is today ruled de facto authoritarian by Prime Minister Edi Rama of the Socialist Party of Albania.
- What use is this supposedly to the city? After all, no one is going to make any money on these migrants, and the Italian officials are sitting in a hotel," outrages a group of three young men in hoodies whom I meet on the promenade in the evening. Each of them goes to work somewhere abroad, as do nearly half of Albania's roughly 5 million citizens, struggling with unemployment and corruption. Someone else repeats a conspiracy theory circulating on social media that Prime Minister Edi Rama plans to evict Albanians from their country and replace them with Africans - obscure political alignments are grist to the mill of the strangest rumors.
I make an appointment with an MP from the opposition Democratic Party of Albania, Agron Gjekmarkaj, who is from the area.
- This is a precedent. The project has generated a lot of controversy and discussion, as well as reaction from the Vatican, NGOs, Albanian society and finally us, the opposition," he says as we meet at a restaurant near one of the gas stations.
He argues that the real reason Prime Minister Rama agreed to the deal was the expected political benefits for himself, if only at the expense of the country's reputation.
- There is something disturbing when you see people being transported to a center in what looks like a prisoner's car, even though they have owed nothing and just want a better life, he states, thus describing the transportation of foreigners from Shëngjin to a second center, this one near Gjadër. I go there the next day.
The tidy prison
A cracked street leads along the mountains to the center itself. It lies just before the entrance to Gjadër, a village of some 700 people, and looks almost identical to the one in Shëngjin - at least as far as I can see from the mountain trail running past it. Despite repeated requests sent to the Italian embassy, I was not granted entry inside. The entrance is guarded by two Albanian officers, who are supposed to be backing up Italian carabinieri and police officers.
I learn about the conditions inside from Damian Boeselager, a German MEP for the social-liberal Volt Europa party, who visited there in November. - This is a typical reception center, or container town, which has prison-like conditions. On the other hand, compared to other centers I've seen in Greece, for example, it gives the impression of being very neat. It's hardly surprising, since, after all, no one has lived there," he states.
The center in Gjadër is divided into three sections. In the first, foreigners will wait for protection applications to be processed. The second is for those who have committed a crime at the center, while in the third migrants whose applications have been rejected are to await deportation.
Global rights organizations have no doubt that the entire project is an experiment conducted at the expense of people on the move. - Experience has shown that offshore asylum programs cannot be implemented in a manner consistent with human rights and international law, says Judith Sunderland, deputy director for Europe and Central Asia at Human Rights Watch.
The organization also notes that how Italy will guarantee a fair asylum procedure and control over how detainees are detained in another country "remains a mystery." On the ground, I learn that the authority to monitor the situation of migrants in the centers is to be given to Albanian Ombudsman Erinda Ballanca. So far she has not yet visited the centers.
In turn, MPs and deputies of the Volt Europa party point out that the draft not only violates human rights, but is also full of ambiguities regarding the centers' funding plans. There was also no tender for the contractor among construction companies (Italy introduced a special law to circumvent the European bidding directive). However, Giorgia Meloni and Edi Rama seem to think that the end justifies the means.
Work or emigrate
After a few minutes of driving, I arrive in Gjadër. On the main street there are two stores where you can buy vegetables, snacks, toys, small ceramics, soap, cigarettes. In addition, there are several bar-cafes, an abandoned billiard hall and an orphanage run by nuns. On Sundays around noon, despite the sunny weather, there is hardly anyone here, with only a few elderly people rushing to Mass at the small church. Until a month ago, residents argue, the town was of interest to many journalists. Today the interest has dimmed.
- All the young people have left for work, mainly for Italy, we are left here alone," I hear from retired women picking olives and oranges from the garden trees. Emigration for bread is a popular option in a country with high unemployment.
In Gjadër, I also learn that Italy has offered several jobs to the local community to build and clean the resort. The pay is much higher than the starvation pensions of Albanian and Albanian women, so from their point of view it would be better for the investment to go ahead, even if only individuals gain from it.
- At first, people were afraid of bringing strangers here, but over time they realized that the center is an opportunity for them to earn money, Alexander Preka, the village head of Gjadër, tells me. He adds that on the occasion of the construction, the Italian ambassador also promised to develop local infrastructure. So far, however, there is no sign of it.
Although positive about the project, Preka points out that migrants should not be kept locked up. - After all, these are not criminals, just people fleeing danger. If I had my way, this high fence would certainly not have been built," he points out.
Around noon, I puzzle three men of about 50 years of age in a cafe. One of them is already heavily drunk, the other is reluctant to talk. Only one has something to say about the center - his name is Rrok Rroku and he is the retired head of the municipality.
He confirms what Alexander Preka said earlier - the residents' initial reluctance turned into support when some of them got jobs at the center.
- I have no doubt that the project is being used for politics. Migration is a problem for all of Europe, some countries are building high walls, putting up fences. Therefore, it doesn't surprise me that some of them have taken an interest in a similar solution used by Meloni," says the former mayor, adding:
- Since this piece of our land will be under Italian management for the next five years, we as Albanians really have nothing to do with this center. However, looking from the perspective of Gjadër, I hope the project will pan out.
- What if it doesn't? - I ask.
- Well, it will mean that more locals will emigrate to Italy for work, as they have been doing for a long time, after all.
**
Material was produced thanks to a grant from the Balkan Investigative Reporting Network. Thanks for on-the-spot assistance to Vladimir Karaj..
