The False Apocalypse. Fatos Lubonja

was chosen. Most people thought that this was the name of the proprietors’ son, but his close friends knew that the name recalled the democratic movement of 1990, which had started at Christmas-time.

      The bar’s location, special atmosphere, cheap snacks, and good-quality spirits attracted the most diverse clientele in all Tirana, from leaders of the governing PD and police officers from the Interior Ministry, to members of the nascent opposition to the ruling party, which had emerged from divisions in the democratic movement. Actors from the National Theatre came after performances, as did artists working on exhibitions at the gallery, members of the Academy, and journalists. There was also the solitary figure of Robert Shvarc, the famous translator of German Jewish origin, who continually argued with those who sat down at his table if they said çifut for Jew, a word that, he insisted, should be buried along with communism and replaced by hebre.

      ***

      Qorri had reason to be worried as he descended the stairs to Noel’s. During the last two or three months there had been disturbances in Tirana following the bankruptcy of one of the large pyramid scams. On several occasions, crowds of people who had lost their money had waited for hours at the counters of the offices where they had made their deposits. When they received nothing, they had taken to the streets in fury to protest. But there they had encountered the rubber truncheons of the police, who had orders to disperse them immediately. The confrontations were becoming increasingly violent, and it was now a tangible fact that the entire machinery of the State, the police, the secret service, the State television, the prosecutor’s office, and the courts had all been put on an emergency footing to prevent these outbursts of rage. Suspicious groups of plain-clothes forces had also been seen in the city, and were said to be militants of the PD, mostly from the same region as President Berisha. These thugs dispersed the crowds with particular savagery. Demonstrations in the main squares had been forbidden and people trying to organise gatherings were pursued and arrested. Finally the government, in its efforts to prohibit assemblies, had decided even to cancel the football championship.

      It was true that most of these people acted spontaneously and without any political motivation, out of despair at the loss of their money. The opposition was fragmented into several parties, of which the largest was the former Communist Party. So far they had confined themselves to denouncing the State’s acts of violence, but the government was increasingly concerned at the prospect of the opposition giving a political direction to the citizens’ anger. So every State television news broadcast included interviews with people calling for the maximum punishments for anyone causing disturbances, and the courts were handing out prison sentences to anyone ‘endangering the country’s stability.’

      Qorri was an outspoken opponent of the government himself. After his release from his political imprisonment just before the first multi-party elections in March 1991, he had become secretary of the Albanian Helsinki Committee. In this role, he had been quick to criticize human rights violations by the new government, which was composed of communists who had turned into anti-communists led by Sali Berisha, a one-time party secretary. As a journalist Qorri had consistently urged opposition to Berisha’s authoritarianism. With things as they were, words had the power to spur people into action, and the most incisive articles were in the newspaper Koha Jonë, for which Qorri wrote.

      Recently, more high-level government people had been coming to Noel’s, amongst them even the police chiefs who had crushed the demonstrations. The courteous proprietors smiled at everybody and did their best to preserve the atmosphere of the early ‘90s, when the bar first opened. Even the police chiefs didn’t look as if they had just come from state business, but seemed to be there only for leisure, taking a break from a spot of lucrative trafficking. But recent events were bound to make their impact even here. Qorri’s table and the police officers’ tables were now islands that did not communicate except through the owner and his wife, who passed from one to another to serve them. At one time, Qorri would join a table if he saw one of his friends from prison, even if he now worked for the police. Hard times were not easily forgotten. But the distance between them had now increased, and when his fellow-prisoners now shared a table with other people, they preferred not to take notice of one another. Common enemies and dangers had brought them together in the communist prison, but their common hope of freedom had now evaporated and they were no longer looking at a common future. They were now in opposing camps, and their enemies were each other.

      ***

      Qorri entered and looked around the crowded bar with its thick fug of tobacco smoke. In one corner there were police officers, and beyond them some young actors from the theatre. Shvarc was at a small table against the central pillar of the bar along with Dita, a fair-haired young actress who admired the famous translator.

      At the bar’s most privileged table in a distant corner, was Dashamir Shehi, the Deputy Prime Minister and a leader of the Democratic Party, who had a serious taste for brandy.

      Qorri found a group of friends at the table closest to the door. There was the painter Edi Rama, who was visiting for a few days from Paris, where he had a scholarship, accompanied by his wife Delina, whose resonant voice radiated energy; the painter Lad Myrtezaj; the actor Artan Imami with his wife; and the beautiful singer Rovena Dilo. They had all been part of the anti-communist movement at the start of the ’90s but had now broken with the governing party. Besides Rovena, they had all signed a petition composed of intellectuals who were against the rigging of elections that had taken place the previous year, after which the opposition deputies who joined street protests were beaten up in Skanderbeg Square.

      Qorri took off his three-quarter-length coat, his scarf, and the beret that he wore tilted on the back of his head. The buzz of the conversation was about a skirmish between the police and demonstrators near the premises of a pyramid scheme named Sudja, after the woman who ran it. This Roma woman, whom nobody could have imagined as a creator of financial pyramids, had become famous. Her creditors, waiting in vain for their money, had demanded that Sudja should come out and explain. She finally appeared at a window and announced, ‘I will give you an answer when I have consulted with the person in charge. But you will have to wait because I am going on holiday tomorrow!’ The news that Sudja was leaving ‘on holiday’ fell like a bombshell on the waiting people. This was an end to any hope of them receiving their money. They took to the main streets in fury, shouting anti-government slogans. They wanted to know who was the ‘the person in charge’. In the cafe, the word was that this person was probably Prime Minister Meksi himself.

      Rama was often carried away when he started talking, and loudly ridiculed Sudja’s holidays. Some people from nearby tables, including one of the policemen, turned their heads. At Rama’s table they lowered their voices.

      ‘Good that you’ve come,’ Rama said to Qorri. ‘I met those people from the Alliance today. They all said that it’s time to act, and the opposition has to lead the protests. After Sudja’s, all the pyramids will fall one by one.’

      The Democratic Alliance was a party formed by disillusioned intellectuals who had been the first to leave the PD. Everybody around the table supported the Alliance. Rama said that the Alliance leaders had told him they were ready to co-operate with the former communists to create a front against Berisha before it was too late. But they wanted Qorri, a well-known former political prisoner, to joint this front. They had also talked to Kurt Kola, the chairman of the Association of Victims of Political Persecution, who was willing for this association to take the initiative to create this new front.

      ‘I’m not the right person for this job,’ Qorri told them.

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘I don’t think I have the talent for leadership. I’ve supported the Alliance in my articles, and I’ve just drafted a declaration and a protest on their behalf.’

      ‘What about?’

      ‘Demolishing Berisha’s claims that he knew nothing about the pyramid schemes. That’s what they’re saying now: they knew nothing. How can’t they have known? Berisha has done all he can to find out about us, and yet he never looked into the pyramids! I’ve put down the facts, the advertising for the pyramid schemes on State television, the threats from their bosses before the elections that if any other