In a development that has sent tremors through the chintz-upholstered world of international diplomacy, Jared Kushner is at it again. The former presidential son-in-law and current purveyor of questionable real estate deals has decided that what Albania desperately needs is a luxury resort. On a pristine stretch of coastline, naturally. Because nothing says 'respect for sovereign nations' quite like plonking a five-star hotel on a protected nature reserve.
Local protests have erupted like a poorly poured pint of lager. Albanians, it seems, are not entirely thrilled at the prospect of their ancestral lands being turned into a playground for the global elite. They scream of 'colonialism' and 'environmental degradation'. Fancy that. One might almost think they'd read a history book.
But wait, there's more. His Majesty's Government, in a rare flash of backbone, has wibbled a warning finger. 'Foreign influence,' they mutter darkly, as if the very concept were a novel discovery. The UK, a nation that has spent centuries perfecting the art of influencing foreign lands, now tuts at the Americans for doing the same. The irony is so thick you could spread it on a scone.
Kushner, presumably, is unbothered. He has the serene confidence of a man who has never been told 'no' in his life, or if he has, he simply bought the person a drink and carried on. The resort, reportedly costing a cool billion, will feature a private beach, a golf course, and a bunker for when the revolution comes. Standard amenities.
The Albanian government, caught between a rock and a hard place (or rather, between a luxury suite and a protest march), has offered vague reassurances. 'We are listening,' they say, which is diplomatic for 'We hope this all blows over before the summer season.'
Meanwhile, environmentalists are having kittens. The resort threatens protected species, including the rare Albanian lynx. Which is, one must admit, a far more charismatic mascot for the opposition than, say, a bored oligarch. The lynx, I suspect, would also object to the noise from the helipad.
The UK's warning is particularly rich. 'Foreign influence,' indeed. One recalls a certain Brexit campaign, funded by mysterious donors with equally mysterious intentions. But let us not digress into uncomfortable home truths.
So where does this leave us? With a luxury resort that nobody asked for, in a country that doesn't want it, built by a man whose very name is a punchline. The protests will continue, the diplomats will bluster, and the gin will flow. In the end, the resort will probably be built, the oligarchs will guzzle champagne, and the rest of us will watch from the sidelines, shaking our heads and wondering how we got here.
I, for one, blame the gin. It's the only thing that makes this farce palatable. Cheers.
