“The fletërrufe are the fire that burns and consumes mistaken concepts, prejudices and vices; fletërrufe among the people drain the stagnant, moldy swamps of the petty bourgeoisie. All the fletërrufe are sure steps in our triumphant march, full of momentum; they are fragments written in the great diary of our time.” These lines are taken from the poem “Fletërrufe” by the polycarpopoet Moikom Zeqo. I used to read it and wonder how a poet could find inspiration in fletërrufe or in the minutes of a meeting. I remembered this a year ago, while reading in central Tirana a fletërrufe addressed (ironically) to the author of the poem above. Knowing Moikom Zeqo as a poet, an archaeologist and, most recently, a politician, I became curious to learn more about his conflict with the journalist and jurist Xhemal Lamçellari. I did not take up this article in order to act as a mouthpiece for their exchanges. What prompted me was the fact that M.Z. is a senior official of the PS and a former parliamentary candidate of the PP. First, I read his books published in print. In most of all his books he mercilessly attacks “backward customs,” religious beliefs, imperialism, revisionism, his feudalism. He spends mone[y] and bribes, as a tip we have given to “principled” and communist denunciations, so that they would clear the way for our books to be published. But instead of a small tip (a theft), he left the civil servants (editors) his entire baggage. Nevertheless, I would not have reproached M.Z., since at the end of the note he has tired himself out and written poems. And poems are poems; they must be respected. But I, as a person—simply as a person—cannot remain silent when I remember that he wrote with such bitterness and hatred, writing terribly against the great Albanian publicist F. Konica, against the great French poet Ch. Baudelaire, against Father Fishta. Neither pressure, intimidation, dictatorship nor censorship can justify these acts by M.Z. I cannot remain calm, either, in the face of another fact concerning him and I. Kadare. The day after Kadare’s departure was announced, Moikom Zeqo, with great praise, desecrated Kadare’s bas-relief in the “DY-Kadarae nga Franca...” bookshop. This duplicity is unjustifiable in anyone, let alone an intellectual. This fact, in my view, is capable of bringing down even M.Z.’s last remaining roots. These events took place in the early days of pluralism. Personally, during this period, when M.Z.’s comrades threw themselves without hesitation and consciously into the ranks of the opposition, he chose the shameful platform of the PPSH to express his opinion and perform his civic duty. The Albanian-socialist political current was and is a fetid pond; no one can enter it and come out clean. Our hero lived and still lives in this kind of pond. The workshops and master craftsmen of compromise, as before, exploited M.Z.’s naivety and blindness to service, and on 26.12.1990 co-opted him as a candidate for the Central Committee of the PPSH. On 6.1.91 he was announced as a PP parliamentary candidate for the People’s Assembly. On 31.1.1991 he was appointed chairman of the Committee for Culture and the Arts. beliefs, imperialism, revisionism, Eurocommunism, etc. He spends tens and hundreds of lines on the Party and E. Hoxha. Judging by his writing and poetic narrative, I can say that the pegs on which he hung his inspiration were far too weak to support even the most naïve line. In the “era of the Party,” all poets were obliged to dedicate something to the Party and Enver. These poems, poet R. Marku says, we used as ... ... Zeqo, with a great eulogy, finished desecrating Kadare’s bas-relief in the “DYRRAH” bookshop, leaving one fewer object for future archaeologists. He tore up Kadare’s photographs (they had been friends; he kept them in his pockets, at the office and at home) and, like a (red) god, pronounced the anathema: “...may the hand, mind and heart of that traitor dry up over there in Paris.” Later, when the PP adopted its official position, on the occasion of Kadare’s 55th birthday, M.Z. wrote: “The powerful messages that he brings us ... ... and, as before, his exploitation and the blindness of exploiting M.Z.; on 26.12.1990 they These positions meant that, in difficult moments, M.Z. was compelled, willingly or unwillingly, to accept the PP’s protection and use its tactics and the weapons of its crooked officials. On 15.6.90 he sent “ZP” a letter bearing copy number 1 and the hammer-and-sickle seal of the Durrës Party Committee, signed by Moikom himself, by means of which... (Continued on page 4) ALFONS ZENELI

It has not been many days since Albanians watched the “Miss Albania 91” show on their TV screens, forgetting for a few hours their exhaustion, troubles and suffering. It was good that the show was organized; it was very good that this respite, this relaxation, was created amid the disturbing reality of Albanian political and social life. The bastions of beauty’s resistance paraded on that stage, not counting those who did not appear for economic reasons or who were prevented by the familiar barriers of prejudice. This was the first show of its kind in Albania. Given these circumstances, we would be cynical to mention any shortcoming, such as the weak presentation of the show by Blendi Gon-xhe. Therefore, as far as the show in general is concerned, we have nothing left to say but good things. We cannot speak otherwise about those courageous and charming girls who, leaving their housework and studies behind, breaking through the “winter breaks” of 80%, etc., appeared before the screen, liberated and sincere, to give us a little, at least a little, pleasure. This assessment would make no sense without mentioning the girls who sacrificed something to be there. The “foreign journalist” and the hidden camera constitute a trick that crossed the boundaries of joking and humor, impermissibly exposing to the public the thoughts, wishes and tender dreams of those young, very young girls. There is no other comment to make about those girls who were deceived and made to imitate all kinds of animals and musical instruments and show their teeth as a “tip” in order to secure a scholarship abroad, to realize that dream that had hauntingly accompanied all Albanians through the sleepless nights of the dictatorship. Could Vera Grahocka have meant: “...look how naïve our girls are, look what kind of rural dreams they have, look what they are willing to do just to go abroad.” Perhaps for this we should thank Mrs. Vera for showing us our old wounds, wounds that have hurt us for a long time. In this context, I want to tell Mrs. Vera, as a fellow citizen, that by doing this she has committed a moral wrong and should publicly apologize to those humiliated girls, because no matter how poor they are, they do not be- breaks” of 80%, etc., they a little, just also mentioning the work of the production team. But despite my respect for their good work, I cannot remain silent in the face of a shocking, painful and humiliating fact. This act, under Vera Grabocka’s direction, terribly violated the sincerity of those girls and, even before that, the exploitation of ... ... in the tooth made of cones. girls, because no matter how poor they are, I do not believe that carpets, furnishings or 30,000 lek cobbled together from the blood and misery of the people have any value or can compensate for their despair. DASHNОR KALOÇI

A VISIT TO THE COUNTRY WITH THREE CAPITAL CITIES The plane in which we will travel from Rinas to the island of Sardinia is a Japanese-made, 10-seat aircraft. It is the personal plane used by Dr. Gauso, the well-known Italian press and television publisher, whose guests we will be for three days. Soon the plane races down the airfield runway at dizzying speed. Only a few seconds pass and we are above Rinas and the surrounding villages. We look out of the windows. The city and port of Durrës are perfectly clear. Our gaze takes in part of the mountains and hills of Adtheu. It was something astonishing, but also terrifying, to look at the nakedness of our Adhe, its protruding bones, its body half torn apart by dictatorship and its breathing weighed down by hundreds of thousands of bunkers. I leave Adtheu behind and we plunge among the clouds. For a few minutes we travel, climbing toward the sky! Another view unfolds before our eyes, one you have scarcely ever seen even in a dream. We are between the Sun and the upper layer of clouds. The pilot says we are flying at an altitude of 10,000 meters. It is incomparable. You felt as though you were in front of a modern painting, as if a human hand had raised the clouds in their multitude and given them the strangest shapes. And here it seemed as if we were travelling with the clouds and the Sun for a full 1 hour and 20 minutes. We land on the island of Sardinia. Immediately we are met by Grauso’s secretary, Mrs. Mari Sotgia, a woman with rather unusual eyes that express human sincerity. She acquaints us with the visit program. But she informs us that Dr. Grauso cannot come to Cagliari tonight, so the program will be packed, in order for us to travel again tonight in the same plane to Milan. A disappointment, but also a pleasure at the same time. The disappointment is because we are eager to sit down as soon as possible at the negotiating table to discuss the form of cooperation between the independent Albanian newspaper “Koha jonë” and “L’unione Sarda.” The pleasure comes from the desire to see Milan, Italy’s industrial capital. After that, Maria takes us everywhere: to the printing house where “L’unione Sarda” was published, with a circulation of 350,000 copies a day, as well as a host of other newspapers. Everything is computerized, from the typesetting process through to folding and packaging. After that we are at Sardinian TV. A very small building, with around 50 journalists and employees, who managed a program of 18 hours a day. As I look at the deputy director of Albanian television and the talented TV director, Mr. Ylli Pepo, I understand how far ahead the Italians are and what level we Albanians are still at. Our Radio Television, with the amount of programming it currently has, employs more than 1,100 people! And yet our astonishment is most apparent in the newsroom, precisely where the newspaper’s first flow begins. Every journalist is at their own computer, each working in normal conditions. The technical director, explaining everything to us (as much as can be said during a brief visit), leads us over toward the corner of the room. A device installed at a person’s waist height was sending and receiving several signals. In a few seconds a photograph of Krakës appears, then another of Bush. We meet several journalists. They ask us about the quality of our printing presses. When we tell them our pages are set in lead, one man lets out “Mamma mio!”, but then blushes, remembering that we might have been offended. But that journalist had no reason to blush, nor did we, the poorest people in Europe. It is not our fault, nor that of Albanian journalists, nor of our miserable printing presses. The fault lies with an entire system, it is that one (Continued on page 2) NIKOLLE LESI DANIEL GAZULLI

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All the girls who have submitted documents and applications for journalist positions in Tirana at the newspaper “Koha jonë,” as well as others who wish to apply, must be in the hall of the International Center of Culture on February 22 at 10:00 to take the competition. The jury for this competition consists of: NIKOLLË LESI, AGIM ISAKU, FRROK ÇUPI, MARASH MIRASHI and ALEKSANDËR FRANGAJ. The winner will be announced in the newspaper on February 28. THE NEWSPAPER EDITORIAL OFFICE