The Albanian mafia in Greece - a Greek invention or a reality?
• During the past week, almost all the major Greek newspapers
• Gave an important place on their front pages to the murder of a young man from Lezha by a group of Albanian thieves.
• On that day’s news, Greek television raised the alarm: Albanian-Greek mafia in Cenro! Albanian mafia in Cenro! ...
Albanians kill Albanians
A huge cloud of fog has truly covered the neighboring capital. It seems that with autumn had also come the time to fill the newspapers’ crime pages with shocking news. An Albanian killed. An armed gang. A group of Albanian thieves who easily jump over the fence of an estate and cold-bloodedly kill one of the sons of the house. Other groups looting the wealthy of Athens. The local press grows each day with new headlines, fueled by the prominent center of the Greek police offices.
The Greek government and its television stations, for days have not stopped explaining to their alarmed public that 20 percent of crimes in their country are committed by Albanians. The daily newspapers nearby fill their front pages with alarming notices about the border, where hundreds and hundreds more are crossing every night. There are those who call it Agion Zun, driven in search of illegal ways to enter Greece. But Greek political poverty is ready to exploit even the most banal occasion to make it echo even louder. The arrival of twenty thousand emigrants in early September has not passed without being used as abundant material for new chronicles of fear and hatred.
These days, in the writings of the Greek press, the word “Albanian” has become synonymous with thief, murderer, criminal. In the streets of Athens, the traces of our emigrants are followed by the eyes of policemen and by the dense curiosity of passersby. All this is creating a poisonous climate, an atmosphere in which every Albanian is judged before he speaks, works, or defends himself.
Yet the question remains: are we dealing with an organized criminal reality, with an “Albanian mafia,” or with inflated propaganda language? Is it not rather a familiar way of dumping onto the weak, the newcomer, the emigrant, one’s own social and political failures?
Within this framework, the murder of the young man from Lezha, although serious and condemnable, was used without any substance as proof of an entire criminal system. Instead of investigating the event, pursuing the perpetrators, and clarifying the role of the police and the conditions in which Albanian emigrants live, the cry was raised immediately: Albanian mafia! And that cry turned into a news program, a front-page headline, a political call.
We cannot defend criminals. But we also cannot accept that an entire people be branded. Especially when this is done in a turbulent time, when borders are torn, when states are weak, when the black market, trafficking, and violence are produced by the very collapse of order. In such a state, crime has no single nationality. It is fed by misery, by corruption, by the emptiness of the law, and by the cynicism of politics.
What stands out in all these cases is also the hypocrisy of part of Greek public opinion. It is hard to believe that a country with a long tradition of emigration and with thousands of its own citizens spread around the world, cannot see in the newly arrived Albanian the face of a person seeking work, bread, and salvation. Instead, he is presented as a collective danger.
Albanians kill Albanians — that is the news that was used as a starting point. But what must be asked is: who is benefiting from this wording? Which circles are feeding it? And why exactly now?
If the Greek media continue to build the image of the Albanian solely through crime reporting, the consequences will be severe for thousands of workers, young people, and families trying to survive. This climate can easily turn into persecution, police violence, mass expulsions, and a blind hatred that destroys every human bridge.
This is not only a problem of Albanian-Greek relations. It is also a test of the press’s civilization and of public responsibility. To call every act committed by a few individuals an “Albanian mafia” is not only unjust, but also dangerous.
So the question remains open: the Albanian mafia in Greece — a Greek invention or a reality?