A Balkan Original

At 61, Rama is the Balkans’ most dominant leader of the past decade — and one of its least conventional. The son of a renowned sculptor, a former professional basketball player, and a professor of art, he entered public life in 1998 as minister of culture, went on to serve as mayor of Tirana, and since 2013 has led Albania as prime minister. His mission: to transform a once-isolated backwater into a modern Mediterranean tourism hub.

Under his leadership, Albania enacted deep legal reforms to clear a path toward EU membership. Internationally, Rama positioned the country as a staunch pro-Western ally of the US and NATO — most dramatically when he granted refuge to Iranian opposition figures. The move, however, triggered Iranian cyberattacks that crippled Albanian government services in the summer of 2022. Rama responded by severing diplomatic ties with Tehran, a crisis that only strengthened Albania’s strategic alignment with Israel, which he views as a model of technological and security resilience under constant threat.

When I ask directly about Israel, Rama straightens. “Relations have never been better,” he says. “We have a rich shared history, and like then, today we are proud to be on the right side of history.”

He recounts that history easily: a fifth-century synagogue in Saranda adorned with a menorah mosaic; waves of Jewish refugees welcomed over centuries; even a Jewish majority in medieval Vlore. And then came the ultimate test.

“On the eve of World War II, only about 200 Jews lived in Albania,” he says. “After the Holocaust, there were more Jews here than before — about 3,000. We didn’t hand over a single Jew to the Nazis. Seventy-five Albanians are officially recognized as Righteous Among the Nations, but in truth, the entire population mobilized.”

Communism, though, severed the bond. “For fifty years, propaganda poisoned Albania against Israel,” he says. “Only after the regime collapsed in the early 1990s did relations resume.”

Today, the tide has fully turned. Instead of refugees fleeing war, Albania hosts Israeli tourists in droves. “Last year, Israeli tourism increased by seven hundred percent,” Rama notes. “We are a Muslim-majority country, but everyone is welcome. We have no anti-Semitism — and we are building a Jewish museum in Vlore as part of our commitment to fight hatred.”

You’re All Invited

That claim seems a bit surprising, considering that Albania is about 60 percent Muslim, with the rest Greek Orthodox and Catholic. Yet the country defines itself as staunchly secular, with an exceptional tradition of religious tolerance. In an era drowning in anti-Semitism, Albania stands almost alone in Europe in declaring openly: We love Israel.

I ask Rama why.

“I’m not denying that there’s a strong sympathy among Albanian Muslims for Palestinian suffering,” he says candidly. “The war in Gaza has been painful for them. But our people for the most part have a certain moral clarity, and they don’t see the suffering in Gaza as something caused by ‘the Jews.’ Many understand that Hamas bears responsibility — its terror ideology, its diversion of civilian resources, its brutal rule. Even those who criticize Israel criticize the government or the state, not Jews as a people.”

That is why, he says, Jews are welcomed everywhere in Albania, regardless of politics. “And that’s why,” he adds, stretching out his arms, “every Jew is warmly invited to Albania. Albania is a second home for the Jewish people.”

If you’re still in doubt, Rama shares what happened to an Albanian hotel owner from the coastal city of Durres. A group of Israeli tourists had enjoyed the hotel so much that they asked to return and organize a massive Pesach Seder for 1,000 people. The hotel owner, who was a devout Muslim, agreed immediately.

But it was April 2024, and Iran sent a barrage of hundreds of missiles Israeli’s way, Ben Gurion Airport almost completely emptied because of missile threats, and the group was forced to cancel the plans.

It was just a few hours before their flight, when it’s generally too late for a refund. And anyway, the group told the hotel owner to keep whatever he was already paid as a cancellation fee.

“Still, the hotel owner refunded everything,” Rama says. “Every last shekel.”

When Rama asked why, the hotelier replied simply: “I believe in G-d. These Jews were in distress. How could I keep their money? Don’t worry, All-h will bring them back.”

“And he was right,” Rama adds. “They came back the following year with 3,000 guests.”

“This,” he says, “is how people should behave. This is how the world should look.”

Fake News

Rama’s recent Knesset address captured that worldview — opening with self-deprecating humor, a few funny jabs at Netanyahu, and a pointed nod to Washington — before quoting Anwar Sadat’s historic 1977 speech. Like Sadat, whom Rama calls “a human lighthouse of courage,” he believes peace must be pursued even amid brutal conflict.

Asked whether Albania might move its embassy to Jerusalem, Rama is cautious. “Jerusalem holds exceptional importance for all three monotheistic religions. We act with sensitivity.”

But actions matter more than words. “We’ve already opened an official Albania–Israel trade office in Jerusalem,” he says. “That is a clear declaration of intent.”

His visit also focused on what Israel can provide to his country: AI-driven emergency medicine, at Sheba, cybersecurity, agriculture, energy,  and infrastructure, for example.

“We want to see more ‘Made in Albania’ labels, built on Israeli tech knowledge,” he says.

Iran looms large in Rama’s worldview.

“We faced Iranian cyber aggression and responded decisively,” he says, having no problem referring to Tehran’s leaders as “butchers.” Albania, Israel, and the US, he insists, stand on the same moral front — not out of convenience, but principle.

Rama has called Hamas “the Nazis of the 21st century,” and he does not retreat from the comparison. “It’s not a slogan,” he says. “It’s historical analysis. The same extermination ideology. A threat to humanity itself.”

However, alongside his firm positions, Rama is forced to deal with a wave of rumors that flooded the international media, according to which Albania agreed to absorb tens of thousands of Gazan refugees in its territory as part of a “deal” with Israel or the US.

Rama, however, firmly denies rumors. “Absolute fake news,” he says.

The truth is that Rama sees Albania as part of a wider axis, and not only as an ally of the West.

He notes that Albania stands alongside Saudi Arabia and Bahrain — Muslim states who’ve made a diplomatic break with Tehran, within what appears as a coalition leading a realistic line against the terror regime in Tehran.

But there is no doubt that Rama is the most prominent among them, as well as the most pro-Israeli. He notes that despite the humanitarian assistance Albania is willing to provide in cases of persecution (as it did with refugees from Afghanistan), it does not intend to become a demographic solution to the conflict in Gaza.

“These rumors are an attempt to create a false impression of Albanian involvement in a move that was never on the table,” he says.

One central axis around which Rama’s policy moves is the aspiration to attach Albania to the European Union.

Albania has been an official candidate for years already, and the negotiations on its accession are in full swing.

Except that it’s no secret that the European Union in Brussels often takes a very critical line toward Israel, and Rama refuses to align with the anti-Israeli voices in the continent.

“Ultimately, you have to stand on your own truth,” he says. “This is how leaders are tested, and we vote according to our principles: We oppose institutional bias against Israel and promote realistic paths to peace. This is not a matter of convenience, but of integrity.”

Uncomfortable Partners

With the fighting in Gaza drawing to a close and attention shifting to the next phase — the Strip’s rehabilitation and its separation from Hamas rule and the establishment of a “Peace Council,” along with the reopening of border crossings in both directions. Operating under American and Arab sponsorship, the body includes two particularly contentious participants: Qatar and Turkey.

For much of the Israeli public, both countries are seen as having played a double — and at times destabilizing — role over the years. Rama, however, who maintains close personal ties with Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (“for me, he is a very close friend”), rejects that skepticism and argues for a pragmatic approach.

“I believe it’s very positive that they’re part of the process,” he says when I raise concerns about the interests of Doha and Ankara. In his view, their inclusion is not a reward for past conduct but a practical necessity on the road to stability.

Rama does not dismiss Israeli anger in the wake of October 7. He calls it “legitimate and expected.” Still, he insists that peace cannot be built without trust — even when trust seems least warranted.

Rebuilding trust after years of bloodshed, he argues, is both the hardest task and the most essential one. Qatar and Turkey, he says, provide Israel with indirect channels to the Palestinian side through actors Palestinians view as credible — intermediaries they cannot easily label as collaborators. Without such channels, he maintains, meaningful communication is impossible.

That assumption remains deeply contested in Israel, particularly given Qatar’s financial backing of Gaza and Turkey’s long-standing political support for Hamas leaders. Pressed on whether engagement with such actors risks legitimizing those who empowered Hamas, Rama holds to his realist line: The end goal, he suggests, necessitates uncomfortable partnerships.

He stresses that this position does not reflect indifference to Israeli suffering, and notes that earlier in the day, he even visited the Nova site.

“I was shaken to the depths of my soul,” he says. “I hope we never see such scenes again.”

Whether dialogue through deeply compromised intermediaries can deliver that future remains an open question. Rama is convinced it can. Many in Israel are far less certain.

As our conversation winds down, I can’t resist returning to my original question.

“Do you think your drawings might eventually become more optimistic?”

Rama pauses, then extends his hand. “No one can be sure of anything,” he says. “But perhaps together — with you, with Israel — we can make the world better. And maybe next time we meet, I’ll show you a collection of happier drawings.”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1099)