By Ben Andoni
The first confrontation every Albanian has with the system we’ve built is, and remains, a rational one. Even though the head of the ruling majority, Rama, insists he will leave power only when he chooses; while the opposition leader, Berisha, denies the statute clause that removes him after electoral defeat—justifying himself with election irregularities and the supposed eternal verdict of the Democrats in his favor! Even though we, alongside Kosovo, are the poorest in the region, and elections have become an exhausting ordeal of counting and recounting, not a single politician seems to have the faintest idea of stepping aside or making room for others with greater modesty.
In recent months, the Democratic Party has attempted several times to proclaim “Civil Disobedience” (C.D.) as the new mantra of its path. Yet, not only were the few protests where C.D. was invoked short-lived (precisely matching the government’s protest permits), but the movement itself lacked a central idea and quickly turned into something of a joke—even among PD’s own MPs who publicly promoted it. Some, not even understanding the concept, defended it with pathos in front of the media, unwittingly adding to the farce by the way they enacted it in reality. The failure lay not just in the absence of a compelling idea, but also in the inability to mobilize people. With the current composition and the ideas it claims to uphold, the Democratic Party faces a real challenge in forming a credible opposition capable of invoking Civil Disobedience.
Aside from the mass protests of the early 1990s, none of the movements since—whether against PS or PD—have left a legacy or served as a reference model. The only exception was the student protest a few years ago, which ended in deep disappointment for citizens. It was manipulated, fragmented by strike-breakers and others, and ultimately extinguished. None of our political parties has left a democratic legacy, and they remain jealous of the students they have now manipulated thoroughly. Not just by flattering them and opening political doors for a select few, but by providing them with narratives, imposing methodologies, even shaping their thought processes and actions. The latest elections clearly showed the effects of this legacy.
Without a strong tradition of protest culture (unlike Eastern Europe, where civic awareness has long been developing), our political parties either haven’t built or have deliberately suppressed such a tradition. This explains the stagnation and lack of internal transformation within our flawed, supposedly democratic social order. Sadly, many young people today are more entrenched in the power structures of major parties than they are invested in real change. This problem is deepened by another fact: Albania has no tradition of Civil Disobedience. Just as there’s no tradition of organized political action—starting from small local communities and expanding beyond the control of any party or state authority. Blind obedience to power has replaced the impulse to react and innovate toward change.
Every protest that begins here is usually tied to the interests of the major parties, occasionally to smaller ones, and rarely to genuine civil initiatives. The only two movements that truly stand out were the anti-chemical weapons protest and the chaos of 1997—the former marked by impressive nonpartisan civic engagement, the latter born from our collective sense of destruction, following the collapse of pyramid schemes.
Civil Disobedience cannot be achieved without good ideas, visionary leaders, a well-structured and independent movement, and above all, the people’s own will—something currently sorely lacking in Albania. The ruling party’s misuse of the administration and the weary efforts of PD militants only reinforce the suffocating status quo. A strong, incorruptible trade union would be of immense help, but it simply doesn’t exist—a fact the prime minister once bragged about while courting foreign investors. Above all, what’s left is the waning moral courage of a shrinking group of people who refuse to make pacts. Yet in our hybrid democratic system, high unemployment makes the government a blackmailer, with an ever-ready labor force to replace those who refuse to comply. If you don’t do what’s asked, someone else will—while your colleagues simply turn their backs.
In functioning democracies, being a strike-breaker or a political tool is seen as shameful and socially isolating. Here, solidarity is rare, and coworkers almost never join those who take a stand—with only a few laudable exceptions. Recent examples from Serbia and Hungary are teaching us valuable lessons—not just about democracy, but about the resolve needed when facing autocrats like Vučić and Orbán, and their plentiful strike-breakers. And yet, even the democracy being sought in those countries appears ambiguous and is frequently accused of foreign interference. Nevertheless, what they have achieved is the defeat of fear and confusion—elements that still stifle protest in Albania.
Whereas in Albania, Civil Disobedience has manifested only in rare instances, movements across Eastern Europe have carried greater weight and unified around large-scale challenges. Communist regimes eventually fell, but not in the dramatic fashion many imagine. Movements like Poland’s “Solidarnost” achieved notable success and helped herald a new era for the country. Others faced more resistance and were brutally suppressed. According to democratic theorists, the success of Civil Disobedience before the Fall of the Berlin Wall largely depended on factors like public support, the regime’s willingness to negotiate, and the broader international context—particularly the stance of the former Soviet Union.
Decades after the Berlin Wall came down, many segments of society still have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. Today’s hybrid regime in Albania perceives Civil Disobedience as a threat and has suffocated it at birth—often with help from the very opposition. It’s no coincidence that media frequently report on shared interests and unscrupulous business collaborations between political rivals. The concept of Justice—which could resolve many uncertainties—is neither applied nor considered useful. Blind Obedience, in effect, has replaced Justice as the dominant force in this country, suffocating any path toward real change. This should alarm every Albanian citizen and every true democrat.
“I think that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law so much as for the right. The only obligation which I have a right to assume is to do at any time what I think right,” wrote Henry David Thoreau in the 19th century, defining his concept of “Civil Disobedience” as a tribute to Justice and a rebuttal to the kind of Blind Obedience now suffocating our democracy.