Russia and China often dominate discussions of foreign influence in the Western Balkans, but in Albania, Iran’s interference has ignited tensions across the political spectrum and created something of a geopolitical anomaly.
Metres from the US Embassy in central Tirana, bold black graffiti scars the orange stucco wall near the consular entrance: “MEK - ALBANIA HATES YOU 2025”. In the next street, “Down with Rajavi 2025” is scrawled in red paint. Though written in English, its meaning resonates only with Albanians and a handful of foreigners who know the People’s Mojahedin Organisation of Iran (MEK).
Who Are the MEK?
For years, the MEK has been a divisive force in Albania, stirring unrest among journalists, civil society, and the courts. Formed in 1965, this Iranian dissident group surged to prominence after the 1979 Iranian Revolution. Opposing Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei’s regime, they fused Shia Islam with revolutionary Marxism, vowing to topple the government.
Despite their size, alliances with Iraq during the Iran-Iraq War, and ties to Saddam Hussein, their ambitions faltered. MEK leader Massoud Rajavi preached democracy but was implicated in bomb attacks, while his followers endured retaliatory killings and executions. Exiled to Paris, Rajavi and his group were expelled in 1986 at Iran’s behest, relocating to Camp Ashraf in Iraq. In 2002, the MEK’s military wing signed a US-brokered ceasefire and disarmed. From 1997 to 2013, the EU, UK, US, and Canada branded them a terrorist organisation, with critics decrying their “cult of personality” and terrorist tactics, something the MEK deny.
Meanwhile, in 2003, Massoud went missing shortly before the invasion of Iraq, leaving his wife Maryam in charge. No one knows what happened to him, while some say he was killed, and others say he is in hiding due to being a target of the Iranian regime.
MEK in Albania
In 2016, the US orchestrated the relocation of 3,000 MEK members from Iraq to a compound 30 minutes outside Tirana, funded by $20 million to the UN Refugee Agency and, according to journalists, tens of millions in US and EU support. In 2019, a woman identifying herself as a women’s rights activist contacted me via social media, citing my equality advocacy and inviting me to an event at Camp Ashraf 3. Despite local protests and rumours abound, I decided to go.
At the entrance, private guards, chain-smoking with automatic weapons slung over their shoulders, checked all vehicles for bombs. The road, lined with Iranian flags and flanked by two golden lion statues, led to a security tent with scanners, metal detectors, and segregated search stations. My lipstick, face powder, cigarettes, and lighter were confiscated, and I was told I could have them when I left. Guards tried confiscating my phone, but I argued I needed it as I had a newborn child at home and needed to be available. After drawn-out and slightly heated negotiations with a male MEK member, I kept it, promising to disable the internet - a promise I didn’t keep.
Women in navy blue suits with burgundy hijabs, or olive green suits for senior members, greeted me with handshakes and cheek kisses, expressing gratitude for my presence. Meanwhile, men in suits without ties, sporting moustaches, kept their distance, appearing to avoid interaction with women.
From the checkpoint, minibuses, organised by nationality and invitation, ferried us into the “city”. Beyond a hill, pristine white single-storey cabins lined named streets, decorated with plants, flowers, and bicycles.
We halted outside an aircraft hangar-like building, patrolled by private security and more moustached men in slacks and shirts. Inside, a warehouse held some 3,000 people in rows of seats. A fortified stage displayed screens of MEK struggle footage, Maryam Rajavi - Massoud’s wife - and the Iranian flag, beside a podium emblazoned with “FREE IRAN”. Seating was segregated, with male and female MEK members on opposite sides, adhering to strict dress codes, including hijabs for women. No one appeared under 50.
Uniformed, hijab-wearing women and over 100 security guards, under male oversight, managed seating and headsets. Chanting erupted, with thousands waving Iranian flags for minutes before sitting, a ritual that was repeated throughout. VIPs, including politicians and former military figures from the US, UK, France, Germany, and Saudi Arabia, filled front rows with nameplates, representing 47 countries. Meanwhile, overhead camera booms lent the scene the polish of a high-budget TV studio.
The event opened with Maryam Rajavi taking the stage amid rousing music, gold confetti, and synchronised chants. Dressed in turquoise silk with a matching hijab, she spoke passionately of women’s rights, democracy, and toppling Iran’s regime, captivating the crowd.
High-profile speakers, including Rudy Giuliani, Joe Lieberman, Ingrid Betancourt, General James Conway, Lincoln Bloomfield, and MP Matthew Offord, denounced Iran’s “regime of terror” and hailed the MEK as “freedom fighters”. Rumour has it that speakers at these events are paid hundreds of thousands of dollars each time.
Feeling uneasy at the spectacle, I grew more apprehensive when my hosts, learning I was a journalist rather than just an activist, began watching me closely. I left, escorted to the exit, and made a swift departure.
Afterwards, I received persistent invitations to return. When I declined, my contact called repeatedly—some 15 times in a row, then from different numbers. Despite blocking her, the calls escalated, followed by messages from multiple Facebook accounts.
Source: freepik.com
Journalists in the Crossfire
After publishing an article about my experience, the harassment intensified. Anonymous Twitter accounts, bearing Iranian names and claiming to champion democracy, bombarded me with threats, abuse, and slander. One evening, I spotted two men in a car outside my home, dressed in Camp Ashraf attire with moustaches. Alarmed, I contacted the police, who provided plain-clothed officers to protect me for several nights.
Others faced similar ordeals. Those questioning MEK or their activities at Camp Ashraf endured online attacks, public and private threats, and slander in sympathetic media. Well-researched investigations, backed by verified evidence, testimony, and reliable sources, were dismissed, distorted, or used to paint journalists as Iranian spies.
These reports exposed troll farms operating from the compound, alongside allegations of various other criminal activities, which MEK denies. Dissenters who spoke of kidnapping, torture, forced disappearances, and slave labour faced ruthless threats and attacks in person, online, and in the media.
The Guardian has questioned whether the MEK are terrorists, cultists, or champions of Iranian democracy, while The New York Times described visits to their compound as “propaganda sessions”.
The backlash in Albania was so fierce that many hesitated to question MEK’s presence, fearing a deluge of abuse.
MEK’s Woes Continue
Until recently, the MEK enjoyed protection from the US, EU, UK, and Albanian governments, as well as their embassies in Tirana. But in June 2023, the tide turned.
Albanian police raided the MEK compound, acting on orders from the Special Court Against Corruption and Organised Crime, suspecting terrorist and cybercrime activities. Resistance led to one death and over 100 injuries, prompting MEK to call for EU intervention.
Interior Minister Bledi Çuçi condemned the MEK’s “intolerable violence” against police. “I regret that Albania, which offered them shelter for humanitarian purposes, provided assistance, security, and protection against Iran’s secret services. For over 3,000 days, they lived safely under our guarantee. Their reaction to the State Police is unimaginable and intolerable,” he told the media.
Çuçi noted suspicions that the MEK violated their stay agreement. The group responded with fury, accusing Albanian authorities of violence and human rights abuses, demanding EU and international intervention. Members, unusually permitted to speak to the media, claimed police tried to seize computers and servers, escalating tensions when they refused.
The MEK insists that negative press and scrutiny of their organisation are fuelled or funded by Iran. Some see the raid as a warning from the Albanian government to halt covert online activities to preserve their protection. Others speculate it sets the stage for potential expulsion should the geopolitical landscape shift.
The Iranian Regime Strikes Back
Iran has long sought to exert influence in Albania, targeting those sympathetic to its regime or opposed to the MEK. Journalists critical of the MEK are offered all-expenses-paid trips to Tehran, and their articles are reposted by anonymous pro-Iranian accounts. Those challenging the MEK navigate a perilous landscape: their content is co-opted by Iran for propaganda, while they face assaults from MEK trolls.
However, Iran and its regime find little traction in Albania. On 7 September 2022, Prime Minister Edi Rama announced the severance of diplomatic relations with Iran in retaliation for a major cyberattack, ordering Iranian embassy staff to leave Albania.
“In cooperation with specialised digital anti-terrorist agencies, we discovered that the 15 July cyberattack was state-sponsored aggression. The investigation provided indisputable evidence that the Islamic Republic of Iran orchestrated it,” Rama told the media.
“We informed our strategic allies, NATO, and shared irrefutable results. The Council of Ministers decided to terminate diplomatic relations with Iran immediately,” he said. The Iranian embassy in Tirana was raided and shuttered, and all diplomats were removed from the country.
The cyberattack, launched on 15 July, crippled government websites and the e-Albania portal, hacked Rama’s emails, and leaked correspondence. The attack brought government and citizen services to their knees with repercussions that lasted for months. Experts from the FBI, NATO, and a US security firm aided recovery efforts and confirmed the involvement of Iran.
How Strong Is Iran’s Influence?
Tehran deploys cyberattacks, disinformation, and cultural outreach in a bid to twist rhetoric and Iranian state media and local outlets amplify anti-Western narratives, presenting Albania as a US puppet and focussing on discrediting NATO and the EU. Social media platforms, notably Telegram, X and Facebook, boost these campaigns through anonymous accounts and thousands of faceless tweets. However, despite short-term disruptions, Iran’s influence is limited by Albania’s firm Western alignment. In other words, its efforts have largely fallen flat.
As for the rest of the region, Iran also targets Bosnia and Herzegovina and Serbia, although the situation there is significantly different to how it is in Albania. In Bosnia, the Ibn Sina Institute promotes Shia Islam and anti-Western narratives, leveraging a number of historical ties from the Yugoslav Wars, but the Sunni majority and competition from Turkey and Gulf states keep it in check. Meanwhile, in Serbia, Iran exploits lingering resentment from the 1999 NATO bombing, portraying the West as imperialist, but again with limited effect.
For now, all is quiet in Albania when it comes to Iran. The embassy remains shuttered and as for the graffiti artist, spraying anti-MEK messages on the walls of the capital, no one knows who they are. Furthermore, their messages have remained visible, something unusual in a city where graffiti is rare and walls are often scrubbed bare of tags and vandalism.
Driving past the MEK compound in Manze, a couple of private security personnel are stationed outside and around the clock. A local resident, on condition of anonymity, told me that things have been quiet since the raid, and they don’t even see people coming in or out anymore.
“There is nothing happening there, you don’t really see them,” they said.
“But now, with what is happening in Iran, we are worried. What if they attack here to get at the MEK or the US? I don’t like it at all,” they added while wringing their hands.
