NOW IS THE TIME TO GO HOME
This great undertaking we had begun is now over: the tumultuous struggle to win democracy.
It has been a long time, about a year and a half, since we did all sorts of things: we took to the streets, cheered, founded parties and newspapers, toppled monuments and governments, cheered the overthrow of communism, made peace, made war, modernized our slogans, made mistakes, and filled others and ourselves with enthusiasm. And finally, we arrived here; we achieved a great victory: the people of Albania voted democratically and independently for democracy, pluralism, and the Democratic Party. We celebrated, too. This great undertaking is over. Now what should we do?! Now, precisely now, there is so much for us to do. Now we must go home. That is the most important thing we have to do. We must go home. We must return to find the warmth and gentleness of home. Home really softens you, matures you more than anything else. We, especially we, in these circumstances, need to be truly softened. We must go home precisely to enjoy what we have won; we must go home to enjoy ourselves, to become children, to become fathers, to caress our wives, to be stern too, to become the sons and daughters of mothers. Let home love us and cherish us; let it fill with friends and companions who come to visit, and let us walk the streets with them. Otherwise, what distinguishes us from those who came back from the streets in ’45? They, too, were sons and daughters of mothers, full of longing for home, full of dreams for their loved ones, with notebooks full of poems. Only the ideology of not returning home separates us from them. From the very beginning, communist ideology said that we belonged to the whole, that we belonged to communism, that we did not belong to ourselves. They said that a good communist was not someone who caressed his child and wife, someone who met his sweetheart in the park, but someone who, in the middle of the night, left his warm bed, abandoned his mother’s home, and joined the collective, the revolution. Honored, according to that ideology, was the one who stayed away from home, the one who “buried his son” for the cause. And it taught us the psychosis of sacrifice. Now each of us must turn away from the street and head home, to stop there. Personal work and desires, inclinations, opportunities, and interests await us there. Bolshevism educated us in permanent revolution. Revolutions, so valuable for overthrowing a discredited social system, are precisely so harmful if they are not halted as soon as possible. The sooner a revolution is stopped, the better it is for people. Now, fortunately, the revolution is over for us Albanians. Now, in place of revolution, there is our “small” life, but the best thing in the world—our life. Bolshevism had taught us badly: not to know how long enthusiasm lasts and how long human pain lasts, or where celebration and work begin and end. Now let us begin to learn; let us begin by going home. Returning home is not easy, first and foremost for the heroes, for those who stood at the head of the mass movement for democracy, for those who mounted platforms, spoke through megaphones, and were carried on the shoulders of crowds and crowds of people. It is not easy because it seems to them a petty thing to return to the child at home, to the elderly mother who has no political vocabulary, to the unwashed dishes in the kitchen, to the lunch waiting to be served. Of course, they deserve great praise. But no more than praise, because then we would become their accomplices, encouraging them to remain in the streets and “in the sky,” and we would lose them from among us. Or something worse would happen: they, the leaders and heroes, would draw us into a showy life, an unreal life, a life outside ourselves. The rule of leaders is a very bad disease. So let us go home as soon as possible. Now is the time. — FRROK ÇUPI
And let us go home. We must return to find the change and beauty of home. Albania really softens you, cherishes you, and makes you feel as if you are in her embrace. softened.
Let us return to our children. Let us return to our parents. Let us return to ourselves.
How can we return home and to ourselves? We need our home and ourselves to be built up; we need them to be beautiful. So let us make them that way, let us return to them with our hands full. Thus, to return with our hands full, we must come home from work. We must therefore go to work. Because without doing this, we have still not won freedom. The political freedom we won is not yet true freedom unless we also win economic freedom.
How can we return home and to ourselves? By turning back from the street. No more staying in the street. The street yields no harvest. The street does not lead you to the future. There is a paradox here: one travels toward the future along the road, but not by standing in the road. The street is not a [unclear: kri], the street is not an institution. warmth and gentleness of home. Home if you are in her embrace.
... the one who caresses his child and wife, the one who meets his sweetheart in the park, the one who is in a warm bed in the middle of the night, abandons his mother’s home and joins “buried his son but did not shed a tear for him,” the one who left his child burning with fever and went off to carry out the Party’s duty. Anyone who thought of living a comfortable and easy life was branded a bourgeois and almost an enemy. Sacrifice was honored. What sacrifice, for nearly 50 years. It must have been a generation and more that spent its life in sacrifice... By now we must turn away from the street, from sacrifice, and head for home and our work.
And why should we not go home? — Only if we do not understand what Bolshevism is and what modern life outside Bolshevism is, only then might we fail to understand this and something might hold us back.
For now, something really is holding us back, something from Bolshevism. Bolshevism taught us collective life
in that who waits for his beloved bed in the middle of the night, leaves his mother’s home and joins and went off to carry out the Party’s duty. The one who thought of leading a comfortable, easy life was declared bourgeois and nearly an enemy. Honor was given to sacrifice. So much generation and more that spent its life in sacrifice... Now we must turn away from the road, from sacrifice, and turn toward home and our work.
And why shouldn’t we return home? —
For now, indeed, something to live collectively
... and who waits for his beloved home and joins sacrifice. So much return home? —
For now, indeed, something to live collectively