UNIT 8
Albania's dam against time
NEALASCHERSON
formidable stare. There is no
noise of traffic, only the sound
of feet.
6 This tiny Balkan nation of
three million people is the most
isolated and totalitarian state on
earth. EnverHoxha's partisans
claim to have liberated them-
selves from Italian and German
occupation (British military aid
is written out of history). In
1948, Hoxha broke with Yugo-
slavia. In 1960, he broke with
the Soviet Union. In 1977, he
broke with China, whose ageing
lorries, locomotives, and bicy-
cles still serve the land. Alba-
nia borrows no money, and
belongs to almost no interna-
tional bodies. Last year, a mere
7,500 foreign tourists were
admitted to the land.
7 Statues and busts of Joseph
Stalin stand in every town. This
is the extreme of Stalin's 'social-
ism in one country
1
, of his total
central control of all life by
Party and State, of the 'cult of
personality' he founded.
Enver's face is in every institu-
tion, Enver's numerous books
on sale in every hotel and
museum, Enver's words on
every vertical surface, Enver's
name carved across mountains.
8 But Enver Hoxha is dead.
After consuming all his real or
imagined rivals, sent to execu-
tion or to labour camps, he died
in 1985. And under his suc-
cessor, Ramiz Alia, there are
the first small signs of change.
Albania is now joining discus-
sions with its Balkan neigh-
bours. West Germany adopted
diplomatic relations a few
weeks ago. The 'state of war'
with Greece ended in January
after 47 years, and our hotel was
invaded by a Greek delegation
of three Ministers — including
Melina Mercouri. There are
fewer armed men about. And,
with caution, ordinary Alba-
nians are beginning to talk to 12
foreigners.
9 'We are a serious people,'
said one. But they have kept
old Mediterranean virtues: hos-
pitality, impulsive generosity (a
pot plant, a pen, a round of
drinks presented by strangers
when the English language was
heard), a talent for wild rejoic-
ing seen at a wedding I gate- 13
crashed, the leisurely, garrulous
public life of square and street
corner. For some of us, it was
rural Italy after the war; for
others, Serbia in the early
1950s.
10 'Where is the boundary here
between consent and coercion?'
wondered a Scottish lecturer.
After only five days, one cannot
begin to know. A few young
people cursed the system. Many
showed a desperate, hopeless,
longing to travel. 'I want to kiss
the English earth!' said one.
'Life is short. Here, I am poor 14
boy. There, I am free.' One
thing seems clear: out of an illit-
erate, semi-tribal province, the
Hoxha regime has created a
highly-educated people (many
of the young speak phenom-
enally good English) whose
creative potential is now
squeezed agonisingly against
the iron limits of the system.
11 Patriotism, if not love of the
Party, unites all Albanians.
They are astoundingiy poor, but
at least they are properly fed. 15
Electricity is now everywhere,
and the land is full of large,
decrepit factories slowly pro-
ducing the basic needs of life,
mines exporting chrome ore
and copper, dams exporting
hydro-electricity. They are
equal: nobody earns more than
twice anyone else, although the
ruling elite — with its chauf-
feured Mercedes and Volvos —
is more equal than others.
While we were there, Roma-
nians were rioting for bread,
Hungarians were storming
shops, Yugoslavs were striking
against wage cuts and Poles
were facing enormous price
rises. Albania is insulated
against the good things of mod-
ern life, but also against some of
the bad.
How long can Albania hold
up its dam against time? Per-
haps Ramiz Alia is like King
Canute, who did not claim that
he could hold back the tide but
showed his fanatical courtiers
that he could not. A mountain-
ous country not much larger
than Wales, whose population
has grown from 1.6 million in
1960 to over three million
today, will soon be unable to
feed itself. That means opening
to the world. So does the need
to modernise equipment, after
ten years of isolation.
I think that life for those
young figures pacing and drift-
ing in Tirana's Skanderbeg
Square — 'like a living Lowry
painting' said one of us — will
soon be different: less secure,
more interesting. Some things,
though, won't change. Alba-
nia's neighbours, great and
small, have always tried to ma-
nipulate and dominate her. Tf
the sea became yoghurt,' runs a
saying, 'the Albanians would
not be given a spoon.'
The slogans may fade, the
pill-boxes crumble — as they
are beginning to. But Alba-
nians of all opinions feel that
they built their country them-
selves; foreign helpers always
ended by trying to take over.
Whatever happens, Albania
will remain the hedgehog of
Europe.
Neitl Aschcrson The Observer
87