On the morning of April 3, beneath the astonished gaze of four journalists seated at a comedians’ table, President Alia announced his resignation in a funereal voice. At long last, after 48 years of party and state hierarchy, he performed the most correct political act. Two and a half hours before the meeting of the National Council of the PD, which would decide his future, he announced that he was leaving the office of President for the good of the people. Precisely that same good which, a year earlier, had led him to accept the position offered by the P.P.SH. JURE came to an end in Albania. All this was nothing other than the logical outcome of election platforms, the cheers of thousands of people, and the popular verdict of March 22. The last symbol of Albanian communism, the product of a long political career, was at the same time one of the embodiments of Albanian political duplicity during this half-century. Cunning, selfish, with a woman’s gentleness, he was ready at any moment to bring danger to the fore and profit from it; able to act more as the shadow of the stronger man, without arousing his jealousy, he managed not only to survive, but also to climb the rungs of the communist party hierarchy. Always guided by the motto “for the good of the people,” he directed the liberalizations of ’73; and, again for the good of that same people, later took part in the condemnation and persecution of his collaborators and friends. For the good of the people, he slipped into the clash between Hoxha’s and Shehu’s clans, profiting from it to obtain the post of chairman of the People’s Assembly and later that of First Secretary of the Central Committee of the P.P.SH.; for the good of the people, he declared the path of continuity and destroyed the happy prospects of Albanian-German relations; he played the acrobat in diplomatic relations with communist corpses and declared the most paradoxical formula in the history of Albanian identity: WE ARE NEITHER EAST NOR WEST; WE NEITHER OPEN UP NOR CLOSE OURSELVES. With cold blood, he dismissed the betrayal of escape as treason against the homeland, while at the same time filling the border barriers with corpses; he declared that in Albania there would be no… For his own sake, he destroyed the PPSH, condemned the close circle of the blocmen (including Nexhmije Hoxhën), and went so far as to hold up two fingers for democracy—the very two fingers which, on December 11, 1990, he had told the students: “If you don’t put them down, we’ll cut them off.” It is normal for presidents to act for the good of the people, to make and retract statements, issue decrees, and take important decisions. But an excessive role as a tightrope walker may cause them to lose what is most necessary: lasting support. It was precisely the political juggling that discredited President Alia in people’s eyes, burdened his sinful conscience with the past even more, and turned him into the principal character for caricaturists, humorists, and the day’s buffoonery. In any case, Ramiz Alia is no longer the president of Albania. Along with the departure of his mysterious figure from the political stage, the ghosts of prisons, executions, dictatorship, and suppressed thought will also disappear. On April 3, at 10:30, communism left Albania for good, as… The symbol of Albanian fanaticism, the product of a long political career, was at once one of the personifications of Albanian political duplicity in this half-century. Cunning, egotistical, with a farm animal’s loyalty, he was ready at any moment of danger to bare the iron teeth sharpened in Bolshevik workshops: having been among the leaders of the partisan youth and later of the fighting formations of the National Liberation Army, he knew how to survive amid the clashes between the main factions. Finding himself ever— again: NOR CLOSE OURSELVES OFF. With composure, he removed the treatment of fleeing as treason against the homeland and at the same time filled the border cordons with corpses: he declared that there would never be political pluralism in Albania and, only a month later, after the student protests, assumed the discredited pose of the initiator of pluralism, led the PPSH toward the March 31 elections, and after his personal defeat took the post of president. political scene will also disappear the spectres of prisons, executions, dictatorship, and suppressed thought. On April 3, at 10:30, communism finally departed Albania, just as it had arrived 48 years earlier, on November 29, 1944, with the same slogan: FOR THE GOOD OF THE PEOPLE. BLENDI FEVZIU

At the 10th congress of the P.P.SH. (a congress which, surprisingly, rechristened it the P.S.), you took a sharply critical stance toward the figure of Enver Hoxha, but the majority of participants disapproved of this stance, even in a boorish manner. And it was you, precisely, who openly declared, “Now I am becoming convinced that this party can never be reformed.” After nearly a year, public opinion asks: — Do you think the P.S. has now been reformed? If “yes,” where does its reform lie, and if “no,” why do you continue to be its member and deputy? KOLË KUNORA

A disappointed person finds it hard to trust another. A people raised on deception find it even harder to trust their government, which promises salvation. The imagination of this disappointed people is far too fired up to believe in a miracle at once, and just as fired up to impatiently turn its back even on the truth most useful to it. A people that has been lied to for a long time is somewhat ill and needs a trace of therapy to restore its capacity to believe and to wait for something. The great Rousseau used to say that a people can be deceived, but not forever. Our people have been deceived for a long time, perhaps longer than any other people. Judging only by the number of volumes published by its “liar,” it is very easy to understand the system on which deception was built and the terrible things this system did, not only to people’s mindsets but also to their social practices and relationships. Above all, the bells rang loudly, with a sound that recalled the bell of the ancient Sophocles: “The most terrible things are good when they end well.” The terrible things of dictatorship are over; the first movement in the symphony of democracy has begun. Let us wait for what comes next! Democracy is not Lalë Gjoni If a public survey were conducted on people’s awareness of the vote cast on March 22, the Democratic Party would be certain to win again, with the same figures, perhaps even more spectacular ones. The vision of democracy in Albania cannot be the fruit of a general spirit, even if that spirit is international and anti-communist. Social oppression, economic misery, cultural obscurantism, or weariness with the cult find the form of mass rebellion under the leadership of an organization. Without such an organization, there can be no triumph, however great the revolt and hatred of the ruling system. To deny the opposition parties this merit, and especially the Democratic Party, is to show ignorance and even to fall into a philosophical error, in which the spirit brings the act to completion, whereas the exact opposite is true: the act gives rise to the spirit and brings it to completion. But that is another matter. Anyone who has paid even a little attention to changes in people’s mentality has surely noticed that, from the very day after March 22, amid the joy of victory, a kind of resentment was already gathering dust, soon to reveal itself as a bitter aftertaste. At first it appeared in “Zëri i Popullit.” In a form of shameless hypocrisy, it was declared there that the “PS” was “happy” to have ended up in opposition. That means that from now on it would be rubbing its hands and howling with delight at every failure of the PD, like the president of Albania. The alarmist demands for food, public peace and order, investment in Albania, national security and international relations, and for the calibre of a president or members of a government that had not yet even been formed, have so badly inflamed people’s minds that in two years you find forty opinions changing in two meetings lasting minutes. And all for the worse! Is there no one to tell this long-suffering people that, with so many ideas and fantasies, they are undermining democracy before it has even got to its feet? After the election victories, there should have been a calm and dignified silence, not an impatient “clamour” of the most absurd rumours. The dissatisfaction created over half a century does not have to continue into an era that has only just begun. Democracy is not Father Christmas, bringing free gifts in a single night. And the people are not the child who is fooled by Lalë Gjoni, who, as long as he is alive, promises, “you can eat and drink as much as you like.” Democracy is that “deity” which gives a person the ability— (Continued on page 2) HYSEN SINANI

A long time ago, his friends had told Mr. Keko to shave off the beard that suited him so well. After growing tired of his friends’ pleas and teasing, Mr. Keko, in order to be left in peace, had declared: “I WILL SHAVE OFF MY BEARD ONLY WHEN RAMIZ ALIA RESIGNS!” (Back then, no one even imagined that the President would resign.) The President resigned, and Mr. Keko kept his word: he shaved off his beard and kept his moustache. The question is: What condition will it take for him to shave off his moustache?

A few days after the publication of the article “Unit 324 has moved Albanian gold” in the newspaper “Koha jonë” on March 13, a fellow townsman of mine came to see me. He had performed his military service in Unit 324 during the period from September 1978 to December 1980. After asking me not to identify him by name in the newspaper (and I gave him my word that I would not), N.G. began telling me: Around May 1979 (a year after the coins had been minted by the Communist Party of China), an order came from the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and the fifteen soldiers remaining in the battalion—after the others had left on various assignments—were lined up and told to take all their equipment and personal weapons because we would be leaving for part of the journey. Once we were ready, a Ministry of Internal Affairs vehicle arrived, and all of us lined up, led by the company orderly, A. Nikça (third sub-unit), to set off. After five hours of travel, we reached a small town in southeastern Skrapar. Our vehicle stopped in front of a two-storey building that was a Ministry of Internal Affairs military post, staffed by soldiers from that town’s internal affairs branch, as… (Continued on page 2) DASHNOR KALOÇI

1 — JURE came to an end in Albania. By BLENDI FEVZIU 2 — The first time in the era of democracy. By HYSEN SINANI 3 — What will our future be? By NESHAT TOZAJ 4 — A sports soap opera with many episodes. By AHMET SHQARRI 5 — On the creation of the “Revenge According to the Law” party By HAXHI GJOKA LD. IN THE NEXT ISSUE: 1 — Sex, love, politics, the President in the imaginings of a prostitute. Interview given by a prostitute to Mr. BLENDI FEVZIU.