After Me, Close the Door

I remember a scene from the film “Honeymoon.” I don’t remember the dialogue word for word, but the situation is more or less this: an undocumented Albanian emigrant ends up in an Italian police cell. In the same cell there is also a Nigerian emigrant.

The Albanian is deeply indignant at the Italians. “Racists,” he says. “Terrible racists.” And his proof of their racism is that they put him, the Albanian, in a cell together with a Black man.

The scene is funny because the Albanian hasn’t understood the situation yet. He is against racism, but only up to the moment when racism puts him on the same shelf as the Nigerian. In his head there is an invisible world order: the Italian may look down on the African, but the Albanian must be distinguished. After all, he is Albanian.

This scene came to mind in recent days as I watched the enthusiasm of some Albanians on social media after the AfD’s result in Saxony-Anhalt. The AfD won 43.8 percent of second votes and 39 of 83 seats in the state parliament. An extraordinary electoral result, even though the party fell short of an absolute majority. So far, nothing strange. The Germans voted. It is their country and their right to choose the parties they want.

What is more interesting is the Albanian who celebrates.

Because today’s Albanian is, to a large extent, a product of emigration. According to statistics I found online, at the end of 2025 there were 323,260 citizens of Kosovo and around 125,000 citizens of Albania living in Germany alone. This does not include those who have since become German citizens, nor Albanians with North Macedonian, Serbian or Montenegrin passports.

So we have a people of emigrants discovering sympathy for a party that has restricting immigration among its main themes.

This has a certain Albanian logic: I got in. Now close the door. And put the padlock on too, because others are coming!

The AfD openly uses the concept of “remigration” and demands the return of persons with no legal right of residence, stronger controls and immigration restrictions. The party itself stresses that it does not seek the deportation of immigrants who are legally resident or of German citizens of foreign origin. This is important to say, because caricature doesn’t help us understand the problem.

But it is equally important to understand that the AfD’s political direction is clearly toward less immigration, less asylum, more returns and tougher conditions for foreigners.

And there, the Albanian of Facebook nods with satisfaction: “Very good. Let order be established.”

Naturally, the order must begin after the cousin from Fier has arrived.

Then we have another subtlety: religion.

The AfD has in its program the direct formulation: “Islam does not belong to Germany.” This too is a policy the Germans may discuss as they wish. But for the Albanian the situation becomes interesting again.

A very large share of Kosovo Albanians and a considerable share of Albanians from Albania come from Muslim families. Many of those who live in Germany today emigrated there precisely by benefiting from a society that, for decades, accepted people of different backgrounds, nationalities and faiths.

But the Albanian is a creature that adapts quickly. He arrives at the airport as an emigrant. After a few years he starts worrying about emigrants.

But then we have the Kosovo problem, and here the film gets even better.

In 2023, the then foreign-policy spokesman of the AfD parliamentary group, Petr Bystron, declared that recognizing Kosovo had been a mistake. The parliamentary group demanded that the German government revoke Kosovo’s recognition and apologize to Serbia for German participation in the 1999 NATO bombings.

Another AfD representative later called the “Kosovo project” a failure and demanded the withdrawal of German troops from KFOR. And this did not remain mere 2023 rhetoric.

On 11 June 2026 the Bundestag voted to extend the German mission in KFOR. Of the AfD’s 150 deputies, 136 voted against, none in favor, and 14 did not vote.

Now imagine the Kosovo Albanian living in Düsseldorf, who arrived as an emigrant, has a Muslim family, keeps the red-and-black flag on his balcony, and on Facebook celebrates the AfD’s victory.

Nothing stops him. Democracy, fortunately, allows contradiction too.

This phenomenon is not limited to Germany alone.

In the United States too we have seen Albanians enthusiastically supporting very strict immigration policies. On 21 January 2026, the Trump administration temporarily suspended the issuance of immigrant visas for citizens of 75 countries, among them Albania and Kosovo, while the State Department reviewed procedures regarding the possibility of immigrants becoming a burden on public funds. The measure did not apply to tourist visas and, after a court decision, ceased to be enforced on 21 August 2026.

Even then, the argument on social media was often similar: it serves them right, those who come and live on welfare.

Which Albanians lived on welfare, how many they were, and what data this belief rested on mattered less. The mob doesn’t ask for statistics. The mob only wants a direction.

And here, I believe, is the most interesting part of the whole story. People don’t always vote according to their economic, family or national interest. That’s normal. People also vote according to values, fears, anger, identity, or how they see society.

The problem begins when you have no idea what the package you’re applauding contains.

You can be Albanian and demand immigration restrictions. You can be Muslim and vote for a party with very critical positions toward Islam. You can be Kosovar and support a party that demanded revoking Kosovo’s recognition. These are political choices.

But then at least you should know what you’ve chosen. Because otherwise we return to the Albanian of “Honeymoon.” He wasn’t angry because the Italian police were mistreating immigrants. He was angry because the Italian police hadn’t understood one very important thing: he himself should not be considered an immigrant like all the rest.

And perhaps this is one of the small sicknesses of our political emigration. We are not against the closed door. We just want it closed after we have entered.