The False Apocalypse. Fatos Lubonja

the situation more complicated every day. Finally Berisha saw fit to put a stop to it. Early one morning he sent in police squads who dragged the strikers out of the building by force. After this incident the more intellectual former prisoners increasingly saw Berisha as a figure resembling the dictator Enver Hoxha, their one-time persecutor. More of them also believed the rumour that the Sigurimi had created the Democratic Party and that most of the former prisoners active in it were informers recruited in the camps and prisons, sometimes with the promise of release.

      ***

      The inaugural meeting of the Forum was held in Kurt Kola’s office, the room that had once been the office of Luogotenente Jacomoni, then the chairmen of first the Albanian-Soviet Friendship Association and then the War Veterans.

      Qorri was a former prisoner, but he had never been in this room. It was a large room with a parquet floor, a group of old armchairs on one side, and two tables in the shape of a T on the other. Clearly the furniture had not changed: what particularly irritated him were the T-shaped tables that created a barrier between the chiefs and their subordinates and also reminded Qorri of a hammer, one of the symbols of the regime and an instrument of brute force. Qorri had suggested in an article that this sort of furniture should be replaced by round tables, but nowhere had the old layout been changed.

      Kurt’s office was almost full. The first person he encountered was Rexhep Meidani, one of the regular Socialist clients of Bar West. Meidani was taciturn and listened carefully, in contrast to Pandeli Majko who as always was smiling at everybody for some reason or for none. It was hard to tell why the chain-smoking Meidani was so silent; perhaps he was sure of the support of his large party, perhaps he felt guilty for having joined this party, or perhaps it was his moderate and cautious nature. Paradoxically the Socialists were both the strongest and the weakest party seated at the T. This party formed a majority in the room. It had plenty of foot soldiers ready to enter battle, and the structures inherited from its fifty years in power. But it enjoyed minimal trust, precisely because of the past exploits of these troops. After the fall of communism the Socialist Party was a cadaver, brain-dead, drained of its life-blood, about to decompose. But this corpse had been quickly resurrected because its troops needed to survive. One hundred and eighty thousand members of the former Party of Labour were stuck without a party and without work. They were well known as people who had enjoyed privileges under the regime. Some, like Berisha, turned into anti-communists, but not all of them could join the PD, and nor would they have been admitted. Others remained loyal to a party that no longer existed, and boasted of their honesty and consistency, while others left politics forever. But most became members of the Socialist Party, as the old party was to be called from now on.

      Apart from a couple of others, Qorri did not recognize the other people or the parties they represented. One of the most striking figures present was an energetic, blue-eyed, white-haired man of sixty, the most elegant in the room in a blue suit, a snow-white shirt, and a blue tie with pale spots. This was Petrit Kalakulla, the chairman of the Democratic Party of the Right. He came from the long-persecuted class of former landowners. He had been the Democratic Party chairman for Tirana and agriculture minister in Berisha’s government, but he had left the party early on. He had a reputation as an extremist for wanting to purge the party of communists and announcing at one of the first sessions of the PD-dominated parliament that communism in Albania had been worse than fascism.

      ***

      Kurt, as host, talked to everybody with extreme benignity. A courteous atmosphere prevailed, and an exaggerated willingness to reach an understanding. It was as if these people had kept all their bitterness for their enemy, and to each other were uniformly smooth and sweet. Qorri wondered if this was unity against a common enemy, or the solidarity of the weak. Some treated Qorri himself with a respect that bordered on servility because he was one of the three at the head of the T.

      This atmosphere could not be sustained, and the meeting was short. Those present had already announced their intention of joining together. They approved a statute that welcomed any party or association to the Forum regardless of its political programme or orientation, as long as it supported its platform for a solution to the crisis. Everybody who joined would have an equal right to speak, and to propose and sign the Forum’s declarations.

      Qorri and Gjinushi undertook to draft the text of the Platform, which was to appear in the press as soon as possible.

      ***

      ‘This Forum isn’t clear to me. What do you make of it, aren’t we too much of a mixture?’ Qorri said to Gjinushi as they made their way to Kindergarten Nr. 19. Gjinushi looked at him from under his bushy eyebrows and replied, ‘It’s a discussion table of political parties working for early elections.’ They walked on a little, and he added with a chuckle, ‘So don’t take it into your head that we’ve brought you in so you can take power.’

      Qorri was taken aback. His meaning was obvious. They had installed three former political prisoners as their spokesmen, but kept power for themselves. Who were ‘they?’ Clearly he was talking about himself, but who were ‘we’ at a time like this, when nobody knew how the game would end?

      Qorri thought back to Gjinushi’s career under the dictatorship. In 1990, Ramiz Alia had sent him with Berisha to pacify the rebellious students, precisely because he was a trusted figure. This role became his bridgehead to a future political career. Berisha had been put at the head of the anti-communists and had taken the leadership of the Democratic Party. Meanwhile Gjinushi had waited a little and created the second opposition party, the Social Democrats, which in the first years had been in coalition with the PD. Then, as Berisha gradually cemented his power, Gjinushi found himself sidelined and had joined the opposition. However, all told, he had survived longer in power than anyone else. Qorri had wondered if people like Gjinushi were the kind who, according to Machiavelli, had stayed neither too close to nor too far from the Prince: people who lived with danger and were poised to take high office. But in fact neither Gjinushi nor Berisha belonged to this category. They had been close to the Prince but had known when to run away. They had betrayed him at the last moment and escaped being crushed by the rubble of his fall. These people should have fallen with the Prince, but in the absence of anyone ‘not too close nor too far,’ who was ‘poised to take office,’ they were the only people who could fill this role. That was the drama of Albania and they were the country’s only chance, Qorri reflected. So this ‘’we’ stood for the former communists who were accustomed to power, whom Kalakulla hated. But there was still a big difference between Berisha and Gjinushi, who was not a communist transformed into an anti-communist. He was subtler. He almost never looked back to the past, and neither deplored it nor glorified it, and he had formed a party whose name at least was left wing.

      He and Gjinushi finished drafting the Platform, and with these thoughts running through his mind, Qorri was left alone. The roughly plastered walls of Kindergarten Nr. 19 suggested all kinds of images to his mind. This time his eyes rested on a shape resembling the profile of a man with a shock of hair. His cat Nusi, the only other resident to share his living space, was curled up asleep at the foot of the bed.

      ***

      The next day Koha Jonë published the Draft Platform. It contained several of the ideas that Qorri and the fifteen other intellectuals had outlined a few days before, but this time couched in straightforward political language and issued in the name of the parties and associations taking part in the Forum for Democracy.

      The most striking and at the same time most sensitive point of the Platform was the demand for a government of professionals to prepare new elections. In plain words, this meant Sali Berisha’s peaceful surrender of power was the very thing furthest from his mind.

      In fact this government of professionals was an ideal concept designed to carry out an ideal and impossible task: to clear up after the collapse of the pyramids, to find ways to repay the stolen money, to restore the trust of the international community and investors, to release the State television, the police, and the SHIK from political influence; to ensure the independence of the courts, and to pave the way for free and equal parliamentary elections before the end of 1997, under impartial international supervision. It was intended to be composed of people who were not implicated in the pyramids, were untainted by