By Ben Andoni
The way a society deals with a major issue reflects its maturity and the stage of its political class. Albanian politics did not disappoint in what we attribute to it: chaos. The real debate in the last few hours regarding the arrest of the Mayor of Tirana, Erion Veliaj—where responsibility should have been addressed, or at least a stance taken on the mountain of accusations against him—turned into an arena of insults and mutual accusations between the Socialist Party (PS) and the Democratic Party (PD). But why is there no courage for the truth?!
“Strength of mind or moral courage to undertake, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.” This is how Merriam-Webster defines courage. This means that in a democratic regime, the true individual must demonstrate through their actions how well they adapt to its principles, prioritizing their best qualities. Around the world, democracy is slipping further and further away from the elements that once defined it, while nonsensical noise has taken its place, with politics in every country covering up its many problems.
The first milestone of moral anarchy in our country came right after the ’90s when the relentless drive to appear different brought many anonymous figures and chameleons to the forefront, attempting to completely overshadow the spirit created by students and citizens from Tirana, Kavaja, Shkodra, Kuçova, and beyond. At that time, Ismail Kadare, a figure who would witness many of the country’s post-communist transformations, had the authority to stand against the falsehoods that smeared Albania and sowed hatred. Those who had never shown courage for anything now sought to become the main protagonists in an utterly despicable way. “We all know what happened after the fall of communism. We know what dust was stirred, what confusion was created, what black filth emerged from the depths of this world. This upheaval quickly dulled the joy of newfound freedom, its intoxication, the rainbows of hope that flickered and vanished instantly… There is nothing more disgraceful than the belated courage of cowards, of slaves. Aware that they had bowed their heads lower than they should have, ashamed of their prolonged obedience, enraged by the presence of others—those who had not surrendered—the first thing they did was to attack the latter. … After this, there was only one final horror left: turning against their own homeland,” he would write with bitterness in Dialogue with Alain Bosquet.
And so we have arrived at our present day, where the greatest effort within both the PS and PD is not about political vision or reform but about preserving the status quo of power, whether in the majority or in opposition. Rama and Berisha are no longer challenged (even by their closest people), because proximity to them is the path that leads to or maintains power.
This was also evident in the last few hours, where the ruling party lacked the courage to confront the immense issue of corruption with Veliaj’s arrest, while the opposition, despite having spent years demonizing SPAK, could not even bring itself to acknowledge the long-awaited arrest of the mayor. Nowhere in these recent days has true courage been so absent in confronting reality and demanding accountability.
What is wrong with Albanian society? Today, courage is not about grandiose gestures or sublime acts but about bringing to light and making people aware of the things we deeply feel and must communicate with dignity—even while enduring the endless repercussions of independent stances. Unfortunately, the concept of democracy as “a system of government deriving from the people, functioning with and for the people” (as Abraham Lincoln defined it) has become increasingly distorted, confusing the public due to its overuse in an era where social media and the new generation of leaders have vastly different perceptions of it.
In literature, there are two prevailing definitions of democracy: the classical one, which ties it to governance in the name of the majority, where majority rule—whether direct or through representatives—aims to respect the constitution and the law while exercising power; and a broader definition, where democracy encompasses democratic relations in all aspects of life, with fully independent institutions, equal justice for all, and the unwavering protection of civil, economic, and political liberties.
In these last few hours, as Veliaj and his associates face justice, we see just how much courage is lacking—not only within PS and PD in confronting the truth but also in the people’s growing impatience, equating everything with corruption. Indeed, in our country, corruption has taken on terrifying proportions.
It is time for our society to reclaim courage—not merely as fearlessness in the face of crime, manipulation, and rights violations, but as the ability to act despite fear and uncertainty. Our MPs, starting from Parliament itself, should have been the first to confront us with the consequences of Veliaj’s arrest. And those who play the role of accusers should learn to live with the consequences when they themselves are accused.
Today’s reality demands that we place civic courage not only against the corruption of the Socialist Party but also against the hypocrisy that allows many within the Democratic Party and its allies to hide behind procedural excuses. A few brave individuals must take a stand to protect institutions and what remains of democracy.
This courage was absent not only in the dignified handling of those accused by justice—from former President Meta to various ex-ministers and now Veliaj—but also among those who accuse and defend the indefensible. Courage has been orphaned before democracy.
Or as historian Timothy Snyder wrote in the twentieth lesson of his book On Tyranny: “If none of us are willing to die for freedom, then all of us will die under tyranny.” And today’s tyranny of politics is more than just a nightmare—it wears a democratic disguise.
(Homo Albanicus)
