On the International Day of Remembrance of the Victims of Totalitarian Regimes, President Bajram Begaj commemorated the victims of communist internment in Lushnjë, calling for the preservation of historical memory, the full documentation of the regime’s crimes and an apology to the thousands affected by state injustice.
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The head of state laid a wreath at the Memorial to Political Persecution in Lushnjë and visited the barracks of the former Savër camp, one of Albania’s largest internment centres.
In the presence of former internees, relatives of victims, researchers and writers, Begaj stated that commemorating the past is a duty to the present and a responsibility to future generations.
“History requires courage to acknowledge the mistakes that cost innocent lives and to ask forgiveness, forgiveness from the thousands of victims of state injustice,” the President said.
Begaj described the Savër camp as one of the places bearing the heaviest and most shameful memories of the country’s modern history.
He expressed respect for the politically persecuted, who lost their freedom, property and opportunities, but managed to preserve their dignity.
The President warned that direct witnesses of that period are dwindling, while the physical traces of places of suffering are deteriorating. For this reason, he called for cooperation among institutions to collect testimonies and protect the historical heritage.
“We must collect testimonies, preserve photographs, digitise documents, mark and protect places of suffering, and make this history part of the education of younger generations,” Begaj declared.
According to him, memory should not rely solely on anniversaries and ceremonies, but on institutions working every day to document and pass it on.
The head of state assured the formerly persecuted that he would support initiatives to institutionalise historical memory and raise awareness of the injustices of the past.
“The way we preserve memory today will show what kind of Albania we want to leave to future generations: a just, democratic, European and, above all, humane Albania that does not forget,” the President said.
During the visit, Begaj also viewed the photographic exhibition “Dignity in the Face of Totalitarianism,” which documents the lives of interned families. The commemorative ceremony was attended by Lushnjë Mayor Eriselda Sefa and Gentiana Sula, head of the Files Authority.
PRESIDENT BEGAJ’S FULL SPEECH IN LUSHNJË
Today we have gathered here in Savër not simply to remember. In this place, which bears some of the heaviest and most shameful memories of our nation’s modern history, we have gathered so that we do not forget.
This place is evidence of how innocent citizens were deprived of fundamental human rights, of freedom and of a normal life, and how systematic attempts were made to strip them of their human dignity.
For this reason, what brings us together today is not merely a commemorative look back in time. Above all, it is a duty to the present and a responsibility to the future, to our children and the generations to come, not to forget.
Savër, Plugu, Gradishta, Çerma and many others are, for part of today’s generation, merely the names of villages in Myzeqe, but for hundreds of families they are the silent witnesses of lives taken hostage. They represent years of lost youth and energy, interrupted dreams, and children who grew up under the burden of a “guilt” they had never committed.
From 1950, beginning with Plugu, some villages in Myzeqe were arbitrarily turned into places of internment, where the restriction of freedom did not end at the barbed wire but extended to work, education, family and the future. I must stress that this arbitrariness was not only criminal injustice against the interned families. It also unjustly tarnished the dignity of a region renowned for its hospitality and generosity.
People were brought here from the North and the South, from cities and villages, men and women, the elderly and children. People with different histories and beliefs, but whom the authorities of the time had marked with one shared fate: unwanted, because they did not think as the regime did.
And behind every word such as “biography,” “enemy” or “undesirable,” human lives and entire families were destroyed. Forgive me for mentioning one among you, because all of you deserve to be mentioned.
One of the survivors of this camp is here among us today, Mr Sofokli Kuqeshi.
He was only 10 years old when, in July 1960, he was brought to Savër together with his mother, five brothers and sister. His father had been executed, while his uncle had been sentenced to 22 years in prison.
The “guilt” of 10-year-old Sofokli? The family into which he had been born. Sofokli spent 30 years of his life here.
Today, when we stop at the Roll Call site, it may seem to us merely a point on today’s itinerary of remembrance. For Sofokli Kuqeshi and all of you, it was daily pain and humiliation.
And perhaps it is here that the absurdity and cruelty of the system become most clear: a 10-year-old child had committed no crime, yet he endured a punishment that would mark 30 years of his life.
This was also one of the gravest injustices of that regime: punishment that was absurdly inherited from generation to generation.
But the history of Savër is not only a history of suffering. At the same time, it is also a history of resistance and dignity, demonstrated by all of you.
The dictatorship took away these people’s homes, property, professions and freedom. It limited their opportunities for education and their right to choose their own lives. But it never managed to do one thing: take away their dignity.
Therefore, today we do not commemorate suffering alone. Today, we honour your resistance.
We honour the mothers and fathers who did the impossible to give their children the warmth of a family under conditions of internment; we honour the women who bore the burden of hard labour, imprisonment or internment, anxiety for their children and the pain of separation from their imprisoned husbands; today, we honour the children of internment, those forced to grow up quickly, who learned early that the regime divided people according to their biographies, but who did not give up their dreams and love for their homeland; we honour those who keep this memory alive today: former internees and their families, associations, researchers, historians, teachers and every witness who has found the strength to recount what they experienced and what was endured.
Memory is not revenge, and justice cannot repeat the logic of the dictatorship by placing on children the unfounded guilt of their parents.
But memory demands the truth; it demands that we document it, learn it and, certainly, tell it.
Therefore, the barracks of Savër, the Roll Call site and every remaining trace of memory here are not merely ruins of the past. They are material evidence of that dark part of our history.
If we allow them to disappear, we would unjustly erase part of the evidence of history. But history requires courage to confront even its inglorious pages, to acknowledge the mistakes that cost innocent lives and to ask forgiveness, forgiveness from the thousands of victims of state injustice.
Time passes; time does not wait. Witnesses are dwindling, physical traces are deteriorating, and direct memory is becoming increasingly fragile.
That is why we must act: collect testimonies, preserve photographs, digitise documents, mark and protect places of suffering, and make this history part of the education of younger generations.
Memory needs not only anniversaries and ceremonies such as this one, but institutions that preserve it every day.
Today, as we distribute certificates of resistance, we are not giving these families something they did not already have.
They have always had dignity.
Today, we bow with respect before their resilience.
Today, we are not simply visiting “Landscapes of Isolation.” By remembering them, preserving them and showing them to younger generations, we are turning them into landscapes of historical memory.
I would like to thank all those who contributed to this event: the institutions, researchers, associations, families, witnesses and young people committed to preserving and passing on memory.
I thank them for the integrity, patience and passion with which they seek out, document and convey the testimonies of the past.
In particular, I wish to salute those who are here among us today and who were themselves witnesses of that time: people who experienced internment, imprisonment, discrimination, separation from their families and the daily struggle to preserve their dignity.
Your testimony is part of Albania’s history. And a democratic state has a duty not only to listen to it, but also to preserve it.
With respect and honour, today I remember all those who lost their lives, freedom and the best years of their lives because of their political beliefs, family background, faith or opposition to the regime; all those who suffered because they believed in freedom, democracy and a different Albania.
As an institution and as an individual, I will support initiatives that help document the past, preserve memory and educate younger generations, with the goal that I believe we all share: to raise awareness of the injustices of the past and build Albania’s future as worthy members of the European family.
The way we preserve memory today will show what kind of Albania we want to leave to future generations: a just, democratic, European Albania, but above all, a humane Albania that does not forget, that does not forget events such as those you experienced.
Thank you.
