Albania had long been regarded by the European Union as one of the most promising accession candidates. The motivation was a sweeping judicial reform and the creation in 2019 of a specialized anti-corruption body, SPAK, designed to combat corruption at the highest levels. However, several years on, this very instrument began to undermine the stability of the political system itself — and the story of Deputy Prime Minister Belinda Balluku became the point at which all the contradictions converged: reform, tender economics, networks of trusted insiders, and the struggle for control over the state.
The creation of SPAK was a cornerstone of the justice reform, endowed with the authority to investigate corruption at the highest levels of power. In its early years, SPAK demonstrated genuine activity — ministers, mayors, and even a former president came under investigation, and in 2025 the Mayor of Tirana, one of the country’s most influential politicians, was arrested. At this stage, the anti-corruption agenda was reinforcing state power, signaling to Brussels that Albania was ready for a “cleansing of the system.” Yet the key question remained open: how deeply were corrupt practices embedded in the system itself.
The situation changed in November 2025, when SPAK brought charges against the sitting Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Infrastructure, Belinda Balluku — one of the ruling team’s central figures. She became the highest-ranking official against whom an investigation had been launched on charges related to public procurement. The case concerned infrastructure projects worth more than 200 million euros. Prosecutors allege that the tendering process for construction of the Llogarа Tunnel and sections of Tirana’s ring road created “undue advantages” for specific companies, violating the principle of equal competition. Further resonance came from investigative materials — correspondence, in particular — suggesting that tender conditions and participants were discussed at the ministerial level.
Infrastructure projects in Albania have become not only a key driver of economic development, but also a mechanism for the illicit distribution of resources. Roads, energy, tunnels — these are tens and hundreds of millions of euros flowing through state contracts. This is where a durable model takes shape: political leadership controls the allocation of contracts, administrative structures provide procedural cover, and business groups receive guaranteed orders.
In the Balluku case, this scheme is on full display. The investigation contends that tender winners were effectively predetermined, with competition serving as a formality. Moreover, the probe implicates not only political figures but also heads of state agencies — the director of the road authority and representatives of the energy sector, for instance — pointing to the existence of a “circle of trusted insiders” in which decisions are made not institutionally, but through personal ties and private arrangements.
Up to a point, the anti-corruption system was strengthening the state. But the Balluku case proved to be a turning point. When SPAK sought to lift her parliamentary immunity in order to make an arrest, parliament refused. This episode amounted to an open conflict between the judiciary (SPAK), the executive branch, and the parliamentary majority.
Prime Minister Edi Rama dismissed Balluku, but sharply criticized the prosecution, accusing it of interfering in the work of the government. Furthermore, the ruling party initiated legislative changes that could shield senior officials from similar measures. In this way, the anti-corruption reform ran into a political wall — it had begun to threaten the power system itself. The conflict quickly broke out of institutional bounds. Mass protests erupted in Tirana, accompanied by Molotov cocktails, clashes with police, and dozens of detainees and casualties. Protesters demanded the government’s resignation and accused the authorities of “systematic plunder.” The street unrest made clear that the corruption scandal had ceased to be a legal matter and had become a political crisis. The EU’s reaction served as a further important signal. Following parliament’s refusal to lift Balluku’s immunity, Brussels warned Albania of risks to its membership bid — since for the EU, the independence of anti-corruption bodies, the absence of political interference, and the genuine prosecution of corruption are matters of principle.
The Balluku case has laid bare the deep-seated features of Albania’s entire political and economic model. Above all, it exposed a high degree of resource centralization, in which key financial flows are concentrated within the state tendering system — particularly large-scale infrastructure projects worth hundreds of millions. It is through these that redistribution occurs and a dependency between power and business is forged. At the same time, the case revealed a networked decision-making structure involving not only politicians but also state bodies and affiliated commercial entities. These ties are durable and allow for coordination outside formal procedures, turning competition into a managed process. No less significant was the political protection of elites. Parliament’s refusal to sanction the arrest of a senior official demonstrated that even in the face of an active investigation, the system seeks to preserve its internal stability and prevent precedents that could upset the balance. This, in turn, produced open conflict between state structures — a standoff between the government and the anti-corruption prosecution, each claiming legitimacy for its own actions. Finally, the crisis spilled beyond the institutional level and triggered social destabilization. Protests, clashes, and rising public discontent were a direct consequence of distrust in the authorities. Taken together, these developments showed that the anti-corruption system — originally conceived as an instrument for strengthening the state — had effectively begun to erode it from within.
The Albanian precedent has exposed a fundamental problem of transitional political systems: corruption becomes the operating mode of power, and fighting it inevitably becomes a fight against the system itself. SPAK was created as an instrument of European integration and a symbol of a “new Albania.” But by beginning to investigate the real mechanisms through which resources and power are distributed, it crossed a line that the political elite considered unacceptable. Today the country finds itself at a juncture where the anti-corruption agenda has become a factor of instability. And the central lesson of this crisis is straightforward enough: the system that was supposed to fight corruption has begun to destroy the very power it was meant to serve.