Give the Flamingos a Lawyer

Rama offered them a besa. Albania should give them standing in a court of law.

by Keler Marku (Washington, DC)

In February 2021, seventy-three Albanian civil-society organizations wrote to the speaker of Parliament and six other parliamentary leaders with a concrete request: sponsor their draft law “On Collective Actions.” Their four-page request came with the bill and its explanatory report attached. It asked Parliament to create a legal mechanism through which people harmed in substantially the same way could seek relief together rather than enter court one by one. The proposal drew on the longstanding American class-action tradition and the EU’s then-new representative-actions framework, adapting those models to give less powerful consumers, workers and communities a counterweight when a firm or institution spreads similar harm across many people.

The draft bill is a serious piece of scaffolding for a much-needed legislative framework, laying out rules on who could represent a group, when a court could certify a common claim, how class members would be notified, how funding conflicts would be disclosed, and how compensation would be distributed. Yet it ended up buried in the silt of Albania’s sluggish, murky river of parliamentary procedure – perhaps dismissed as one more “Westernization” exercise of the kind Gjergj Fishta so sharply satirized in Gomari i Babatasit and Visku i Babatasit.

Despite the subpar marketing at the time, I would argue that the draft bill deserves another look as a potential remedy for this summer’s top hit: the Flamingo problem. It deserves a place in the portfolio of printed-out PowerPoint decks that I imagine were discussed on the sunny shore of Lake Pogradec at Prime Minister Rama’s government retreat. Focused on the need for a turnaround in the Socialist Party’s fourth mandate, this year’s retreat likely included speeches resembling Pep Guardiola’s locker-room rallies during his final two seasons at Manchester City.

Reflecting on this summer’s protests, the Prime Minister accepted that amid the screeching of “crows and magpies,” there were also legitimate citizens’ cries. As his core remedy, he has showcased Besa and Prania Besnike as promises that his party would listen, explain and remain present. These proposals may be sincere responses born of genuine reflection, but by themselves they are unlikely to reverse a public opinion that demands more tangible collateral before buying back into political promises.

At their core, Besa and Prania Besnike still leave the government and the party in power as listener, interpreter and filter of people’s grievances. Under these promises, the same political actors decide which cry names a legitimate grievance, which deserves a remedy and which can be brushed aside as magpie noise. However transparent the process, it is still likely to be received with a dose of skepticism.

The draft bill “On Collective Actions” more closely resembles the governing party’s biggest legislative accomplishment: Justice Reform. The same mechanism may be needed if the Albanian people’s patience has run out.

What gave Justice Reform, and the institutions born from it, unusual credibility was not a better political promise. It was a credible relinquishment of political discretion. The reform gained credibility precisely because it denied ordinary political institutions – widely blamed for the absence of justice – exclusive control over the filter refining the judicial system.

The bill “On Collective Actions” would apply the same principle to civil justice and markets. The government and Parliament should establish the procedure, finance capable courts and then surrender control over which qualifying claims proceed.

When one firm allegedly harms many people in substantially the same way, those people should be able to combine their claims, retain one serious legal and expert team and have the common questions decided once, in court. The economic logic is simple: if 50,000 customers are each overcharged by 1,000 lek, none can rationally spend years suing for 1,000 lek, while the firm keeps an aggregate 50 million lek. A collective action recombines what the alleged business model separated and makes the evidence worth pursuing.

Consider two stories that, in the current public-opinion climate, are readily presented as evidence of a corrupt governing system. In May 2026, 56 Security Academy students received medical treatment after a meal catered by SORI-AL, prompting an investigation into suspected food poisoning. After the November 2023 fire at KURUM’s Elbasan site, an environmental-justice study reported that the pollution case closed without a penalty after the available monitoring failed to capture the plume. Government may bear responsibilities at the edges – as purchaser, inspector or environmental monitor – but the immediate conduct under examination was that of private firms. Neither episode, without more evidence, proves corruption or civil liability.

In such cases, Besa may promise too much: it commits the government to solve a problem it may not have caused and then leaves the government to judge the accusation. A collective action assigns the roles more honestly. A representative could ask a judge to certify the Academy students, or affected residents near KURUM, as a class; show that the group is identifiable, that genuinely common questions predominate and that the representative and counsel are adequate; disclose the funding; notify class members; and then obtain documents and expert evidence. Certification would not presume guilt. It would create one rigorous record through which a court could award compensation or an injunction – or dismiss a claim that the evidence does not support.

The Competition Authority and public consumer-protection bodies remain necessary, but simply empowering them to be more proactive is not enough. It places an extraordinary burden on the director of a mid-level institution to arbitrate grievances carrying national political weight. When the public facts paint a powerful firm as guilty but a deeper investigation supports closing the case, even an honest decision can look purchased. Concentrating the filter in one official therefore creates two risks: more pressure and opportunity for actual corruption, and more suspicion of corruption when an honest official reaches an unpopular conclusion.

A class-action lawyer is not morally better than that official. The lawyer simply faces a different incentive. A strong claim against a large corporation can produce a substantial, court-approved fee, giving counsel a financial reason to bear the cost of lawyers, economists, engineers or medical experts. If the claim fails, counsel may lose that investment. The point is not to replace public virtue with private virtue; it is to add an independent engine whose reward grows with the recovery obtained for the people harmed.

Besa is therefore both too little and too much. It is too little when listening substitutes for an enforceable remedy, and too much when government assumes responsibility for harm a private actor may have caused. Standing distributes responsibility more honestly: citizens and their lawyers bring the claim, defendants answer it, and an independent court decides it.

Justice Reform became more than a political besa because power moved beyond the government’s continuing discretion and into institutions expected to act independently of it. Collective-action reform should make the same commitment.

Mr. Rama has offered the flamingos his besa. Parliament should give them legal standing, and then let the courts do their work.