By Ben Andoni
The oversized ballot sheet for the Tirana District—more fit for collectors than voters—will, in these elections, feature a dizzying array of names that truly conveys a sense of something gargantuan. The insatiable appetite of politics and of a cadre of individuals who simply can’t let go of power is a consequence of an electoral code that no longer reflects the country’s demographics—let alone the real contribution of so many virtually unknown individuals who manage to etch their names into the historical ledger of Albanian lawmakers.
No matter how democracy may be defended in our context, the reality is that our electoral system revolves around political will, not the voter’s will (read: trust) in the candidates. The moment the voter casts their ballot, it’s the party leader who takes over the deputy’s destiny—backed by the simple voter. Those who deviate know all too well what’s coming.
Let’s be clear: Albania needs a legislative institution with a much leaner membership—one that embodies the dignity and effectiveness of an institution with a nearly century-long history, now eroded by constitutional changes brought forth by Rama+Berisha, the two longest-standing figures in Albanian high politics. We stress this point because today, MPs on both sides are little more than extensions of their respective party leaders’ decisions—decisions often made long before the campaign even begins. As for the dignity of Parliament, that remains purely theoretical. In practice, thanks to the antics of recent legislatures, Parliament has become more of a punchline—a space for quips and memes—where Rama and Berisha continue to dominate as unchallenged protagonists (courtesy of their monopoly over candidate lists).
Back in the communist era, pre-1990, there were 250 MPs representing every social stratum—from farmers and workers to the era’s top intellectuals. They convened rarely, which suited a time when the socialist regime had diluted the very meaning of Parliament. So much so, that by the early 1990s, even the incoming class of politicians struggled to grasp why Parliament was even necessary! Ironically, that would become painfully clear later, when most MPs just raised their hands like mannequins. This trend continued into the new multiparty Parliament, and seeing its own inefficiency, MPs themselves took the initiative in 1992 to reduce their number to 140.
Even that number, however, remains inflated. Experts have shown that Albania’s Parliament is still disproportionately large, especially when benchmarked against population-to-MP ratios in many other countries. It gets worse: The most recent official census (September 2023) listed the country’s resident population at around 2.4 million, and the opposition insists it’s under 2 million. Meanwhile, nearly 490,000 Albanians have left the country over the past 12 years. This makes one thing glaringly obvious: one of our most urgent reforms should be parliamentary reform.
Not only does the demographic factor alone fully justify it—but the quality of parliamentary representation demands it. The reality of our oversized, mostly parasitic legislative body should prompt us to downsize it and finally shrink that gargantuan ballot into something more modest—perhaps one that includes a few names we actually recognize.
(Originally published by Javanews)
