

To most Indians, Albania, a tiny country in the Balkans is known for gifting us Mother Teresa. With a population of only 2.8 million, one fourth of it living in the capital Tirana, it is one of the least populated countries in Europe.
Though its pristine beaches and rugged Alps are great tourist attractions, it is also one of the most isolated countries in the world. The isolation became almost total between 1944 and 1985 under its communist dictator Enver Hoxha, when it cut ties with almost all countries which turned it into a subject of global curiosity. However, in the early 1990s, when the fall of the Berlin Wall set the winds of globalisation and liberalisation blowing freely over the entire globe, Albania changed its course from dictatorship to democracy.
Eventually it became a member of the NATO in 2009 and is now a candidate for EU membership, which, as per the 1993 Copenhagen Criteria, requires candidate states to have stable institutions guaranteeing democracy and rule of law that demands control over corruption. Albania aims to join the EU by 2030, for which EU has kept a target of ‘zero graft’, an apparent impossibility in a country that has long been used for laundering money from trafficking of drugs and arms. Corruption indeed permeates Albania’s entire body politic.It is deeply entrenched in its politico-administrative systems, especially in government procurement and tenders, and is a systemic barrier to its entry into the EU. Albania ranks 80th out of 180 countries in the Transparency International’s Corruption Perception Index.
Albania suffers from several structural problems, like low productivity, aging population and emigration. At US$ 10,000, its GDP per capita remains well below EU average of US$ 44,000. Agricultural and industrial sectors are underperforming — that is why it needs the EU membership to boost exports and tourism. Politically also, it remains fraught- after the turbulent 1990s’ transition from communism, it has been ruled by the Socialist Party since 2013 under Prime Minister Edi Rama, who advocates EU integration, modernisation and economic reforms, all of which are impeded by corruption.
Now he has come up with a unique idea — he has appointed an AI-chatbot named Diella as a cabinet minister for public procurement. Diella, who is pictured as a woman dressed in traditional Albanian folk attire, is thus the world’s first AI-generated government “minister” — hitherto she was advising people how to navigate government services online in the e-Albania portal. Albania’s official procurement bill is of the order of a billion Euros, of which around 20 cent is estimated to end up in the pockets of officials. Diella will now be entrusted with all decisions on public tenders, making them “100 per cent corruption-free”, as the PM claimed, and “every public fund submitted to the tender procedure will be perfectly transparent.”
As expected, it has generated fierce political backlash — opposition leaders are calling it a gimmick and a publicity stunt designed to distract from deeper structural reforms by outsourcing sovereignty to a machine, rather than showing the courage to take on the entrenched networks of patronage. The opposition leader Gazmend Bardhi has already echoed these concerns, “Prime Minister’s buffoonery cannot be turned into legal acts of the Albanian state.” But some have also hailed this depersonalisation of politics as a bold and innovative experiment in digital governance reform, likely to usher in a global trend which may actually improve transparency.
Of course, delegating state power to a machine has already raised serious questions about legality, legitimacy,constitutionality and ethics in governance. Diella lacks human qualities such as political accountability, empathy, and the capacity for discretion which have, at least so far, remained essentially human traits. Yet her elevation to the ministerial post supersedes political representation by data-driven efficiency. The paradigm shift that it implies is dangerous for democracy itself — AI is no longer confined to back-office automation but has broken into the decision-making sphere hitherto reserved only for elected humans who are accountable and answerable to Parliament. Who will Diella be answerable to? Can citizens question or appeal her decisions, and if so, who will adjudicate these? Besides, AI does not possess legal personhood, cannot swear an oath of office, and cannot be held criminally liable. This creates a constitutional paradox: the legal enforceability of its decisions remains uncertain and decisions attributed to Diella may be challenged in courts. Of course, the Constitution may be amended to resolve this problem, but it will open up a new, and a large, pandora’s box.
There is also the risk that human corruption may be substituted by algorithmic corruption — what if Diella manipulates the system to turn corrupt herself? AI systems are only as neutral as the data they are trained on. If procurement datasets are biased, or manipulated, the system may unintentionally favor certain companies, and hackers may then exploit loopholes in the algorithm to secure contracts. So, instead of getting eradicated, corruption may shift into a nebular sphere, given the fact that AI models operate mostly as black boxes, providing outcomes without clear line of reasoning.
When traditional ministerial responsibilities are transferred to AI, where is the accountability structure? Accountability is central to governance.
If Diella makes a flawed or biased decision, who bears the responsibility and consequences? This diffusion of responsibility across the hierarchy might easily allow humans to evade accountability, further undermining democratic checks and balances while allowing the government to hide behind “technological neutrality” to justify controversial outcomes.
But if Diella indeed succeeds in controlling corruption, what would it mean for the democratic system? Would it be good for society or democracy? Would it then define the way we can entrust machines with political authority? The answer will shape the future of democratic governance in the digital age.
The author, a former Director General at the CAG, is a Professor at the Arun Jaitley National Institute of Financial Management. Opinions expressed are personal.