By Genc Pollo
The European Union’s stance on democracy in the Balkans is increasingly difficult to defend.
The recent visit of EU Enlargement Commissioner Marta Kos to Albania is a glaring example
of Brussels’ selective engagement, where stability appears to take precedence over genuine
democratic governance. Despite mounting evidence of democratic erosion under Prime
Minister Edi Rama’s 12-year rule, Kos sidestepped concerns over media freedom, opposition
rights, and corruption. Instead, she praised Albania’s alignment with EU foreign policy and
reiterated the goal of concluding accession negotiations by 2027.
This is troubling. If the EU is serious about its democratic principles, it cannot afford to turn
a blind eye to a government that delays meaningful reforms until the very moment
negotiations are supposed to conclude. Reform schedules that push key democratic measures
beyond 2027 raise legitimate concerns about whether the Albanian government is truly
committed to democracy—or merely playing a waiting game.
Kos highlighted three key aspects of Albania’s so-called progress: stability, foreign policy
alignment, and regional cooperation. Stability, of course, is a favorite term in Brussels, but in
the Balkans, it often translates into “stabilocracy”—a system where autocratic tendencies are
tolerated as long as they ensure geopolitical predictability. Albania’s foreign policy alignment
is nothing new; it has been a rare point of political consensus for years. And while regional
cooperation sounds promising, Rama’s approach, particularly in dealings with Serbian
President Aleksandar Vučić, has at times alienated Kosovo, raising tensions rather than
fostering unity.
The EU’s annual reports on Albania have gradually become more critical, but these critiques
often feel like a formality rather than a meaningful call to action. When the EU intervenes—
such as blocking Albania’s dubious “golden passports” scheme or the proposed fiscal
amnesty that could have encouraged financial crime—it does so sporadically and without
consistent enforcement. Meanwhile, high-profile cases of government overreach, such as the
dismissal of the Venice Commission’s opinion on the parliamentary mandate of former
Foreign Minister Olta Xhaçka, show that EU objections are easily brushed aside in Tirana.
The EU’s handling of democratic backsliding in Serbia is equally discouraging. As thousands
of Serbians protest against Vučić’s government over election fraud, media suppression, and
corruption, Brussels remains largely silent. This is not an isolated case. The EU has a
troubling track record of prioritizing stability over democracy in the Western Balkans, a
strategy that has produced disappointing results. Montenegro, for example, has spent 12 years
in accession negotiations and has only closed three of 35 chapters, yet it too has been given
the 2027 accession target, raising doubts about the seriousness of the EU’s enlargement
process.
The question Brussels must answer is simple: does it stand for democratic values, or does it
merely want to keep the Balkans in check? If the EU continues to tolerate “stabilocracies”
where democratic institutions exist on paper but not in practice, it risks not only undermining
genuine democratic movements but also damaging its own credibility. Enlargement policy
should not be about setting artificial timelines; it should be about enforcing the standards that
the EU claims to uphold.
For too long, the EU has taken a passive approach, hoping that democracy will somehow
emerge on its own while rewarding leaders who master the art of controlled governance. But
democracy is not a passive process—it requires constant vigilance, real consequences for
democratic failures, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. If the EU wants to
remain a beacon of democracy, it must start acting like one
