In January 2026, amid intensified public debate over governance, public spending, crisis management, and institutional accountability in Albania, the country’s information environment has been marked by a series of social media posts from Prime Minister Edi Rama that go well beyond routine political communication. Rather than addressing journalistic scrutiny through evidence or institutional channels, the Prime Minister has engaged in a sustained public campaign personally targeting a journalist, raising broader concerns about power, accountability, and media freedom.

The immediate trigger was an on-air statement by Blendi Fevziu, the long-time host of Albania’s most-watched prime-time political talk show, questioning the public presentation and conduct of senior government officials. Instead of clarifying facts or responding substantively, the Prime Minister reframed the issue as a personal confrontation, repeatedly accusing the journalist of fabrication and bad faith. This shift redirected public attention away from questions of governance and toward the credibility and motives of a journalist.

What distinguishes this episode is not disagreement, but method. Over several days, the Prime Minister published multiple posts naming Fevziu directly, employing mocking language, sarcasm, and repetition, and circulating AI-generated and manipulated images designed to ridicule the journalist. These visual and rhetorical techniques transformed a matter of accountability into a public spectacle, inviting mockery and amplification by the Prime Minister’s large online following. When deployed by the head of government, such tactics function not as satire, but as instruments of power.

The choice of target is central to understanding the power play. Fevziu is not a marginal or vulnerable actor. He is a central agenda-setter within a small and highly concentrated media market, embedded in the mainstream and regularly engaging senior political figures, including the Prime Minister himself. By publicly disciplining a journalist of this stature, the Prime Minister demonstrates that visibility, access, and institutional standing do not shield media actors from executive retaliation. The signal therefore travels downward: if a figure at the centre of the media system can be subjected to sustained ridicule and delegitimization, the implications for investigative reporters, local media, freelancers, and less protected journalists are clear.

Beyond the individual case, the episode reflects a broader strategy of narrative control. By personalizing and escalating the conflict, the Prime Minister reasserts dominance over agenda-setting, shifts debate from institutional accountability to personality, and normalises executive-led ridicule as a political tool. The use of AI-generated mockery marks an escalation in how power is exercised in the information space, blurring the line between official communication and tactics more commonly associated with coordinated online harassment.

This form of pressure relies on exposure, repetition, and humiliation, allowing formal commitments to freedom of expression to remain intact while informal constraints tighten. Over time, such practices contribute to a chilling effect: journalists may self-censor not because reporting is unlawful, but because the personal and professional costs of scrutiny become increasingly visible.

It is also important to acknowledge that Blendi Fevziu is not a marginal figure, nor is he free from professional criticism. He is widely perceived as part of Albania’s media establishment and has long been criticised for proximity to political power and selective toughness in questioning. These are legitimate grounds for journalistic and public debate. However, none of these critiques justify a response from the head of government that relies on personalized attacks, ridicule, and public shaming. In democratic systems, flawed or contested journalism is addressed through evidence, rebuttal, and professional accountability—not through executive-led campaigns that turn criticism into punishment and scrutiny into misconduct.

Moreover, although raised late and by a journalist often seen as part of the media mainstream, the critique articulated by Fevziu reflects a well-established and evidence-based concern repeatedly documented by media-freedom and governance monitors, including SafeJournalists. Their analyses have consistently warned that the use of pre-packaged, staged, or pre-recorded official materials presented as real-time governmental action undermines transparency, misleads the public about officials’ conduct, and shifts political communication from accountability to performance. In this sense, the issue raised is not anecdotal or personal, but part of a broader structural problem in Albania’s information environment that has long warranted scrutiny.

When political leaders respond to scrutiny by publicly mocking and delegitimizing journalists, they undermine the conditions for independent journalism and informed public debate. Such practices are problematic not because political leaders are prohibited from responding to journalists, but because democratic standards require restraint, proportionality, and institutional clarity from those in power. When transparency is replaced by spectacle and rebuttal by ridicule, executive power is exercised not to inform the public, but to discipline those who question it.