Ashraf-3, the fortified camp of the Mojahedin-e-Khalq (MEK) in Manzë, Albania, is a veritable "city of exiles." Spanning roughly 40 hectares, it contains over a hundred buildings and is isolated by high walls and security checkpoints. Inside, around 2,500 dissident refugees live under a strict internal code, effectively forming a sect whose members are denied a normal family life and must adhere to the organization's uncompromising doctrine.
To understand the burden Albania has taken on by welcoming these refugees, it's important to clarify the MEK's history. The group originated in Iran during the 1960s as a radical student movement, initially known for its Marxist-inspired bombings. After the Islamic Revolution, it evolved into a dogmatic, sectarian force defined by a fanatical opposition to the Iranian state. The MEK's terrorist actions have been linked to the deaths of at least 17,000 people, including scientists, politicians, professors, and ordinary citizens. Its members, who fought alongside Saddam Hussein during the Iran-Iraq War, are devoted followers of Masoud Rajavi—who is presumed to have died in 2003—and his wife, Maryam. Notably, the organization was until recently officially designated as a "foreign terrorist organization" by both the United States and Iran.
After renouncing violence in 2003, they rebranded themselves as "supporters of human rights" and were subsequently granted official refuge in Albania in 2013. However, the group's most striking feature is its hypocrisy: while Rajavi's leaders demand a life of austere, revolutionary sacrifice from their rank-and-file members, they themselves live in unrestrained luxury under a political umbrella in Paris. For instance, the French newspaper Le Canard Enchaîné reported that Maryam Rajavi—the group's self-styled president—and her entourage rented an entire spa resort in Vichy, spending €29,000 in cash on massages and treatments. The previous year, the leadership had spent a similar amount on travel. Meanwhile, at their base in Ashraf-3, ordinary members endure a rigid, militarized existence, cut off from phones and news, following inflexible schedules, and often suffering from sleep deprivation and illness.
For over a decade, Albania has hosted the exiled Mojahedin-e-Khalq (MEK). What began as a humanitarian gesture has since evolved into a serious security crisis, spiraling beyond Tirana's control. The Albanian government is now urging its Western allies to help investigate crimes emanating from Camp Ashraf-3, particularly by searching for evidence of cyber-attacks launched from within the camp.
This situation has placed Albania on the front line of Iranian hostility. In July 2022, a major cyber-attack paralyzed the country's e-government portal, leading Albania to sever diplomatic ties with Tehran. By early 2023, Albanian prosecutors were accusing the MEK itself of conducting clandestine cyber operations against Iran. After months of surveillance pointed to a hidden "troll factory" at the Manzë compound, Albanian special police raided Ashraf-3 in June 2023. The operation faced fierce resistance, resulting in dozens of injuries, but authorities successfully seized hundreds of computers and storage devices, which the MEK had tried to destroy. The evidence prompted a formal investigation for espionage, cybercrime, and incitement to war.
The cycle of retaliation continues. In June 2025, the hacker group Homeland Justice sabotaged Tirana's municipal websites, openly stating it was "in retaliation" for Albania harboring "terrorists." This has pushed Albania to formally request decryption assistance from NATO and EU allies to uncover incriminating evidence on the confiscated Ashraf-3 equipment.
This spiral of hostility was predictable. Albania was aware that accepting over 2,500 MEK members would provoke Iran, but it proceeded under significant pressure from the United States and the United Nations. The consequence is that Ashraf-3 has become a ticking time bomb, whose anti-Iranian propaganda has made Albania a primary target for cyber-attacks. Western and Albanian analysts now describe the MEK as "out of Albania's control," a self-governing terrorist enclave that threatens regional security. The camp in Manzë operates outside Albanian jurisdiction with its own police force and leadership, prompting a state of high alert in Tirana. Roads to the camp are now blocked, and authorities constantly monitor its network, fearing it could be used to hack foreign governments.
Ultimately, this case underscores the double standards in Western policy toward Iran. While the European Union has praised Albania for hosting the MEK—a group it has removed from its terror list—and prominent Western politicians have welcomed its leaders, Tehran has consistently condemned the MEK as a proxy for foreign-backed terrorism. This dissonance has fueled divisions within Albanian society, where some view the MEK as victims of the Iranian regime and others see them as a belligerent force that has brought conflict to their doorstep.
by Maria Morigi