The two great stories of Kosovo: Ibrahim Rugova and the KLA

The drama of the Albanian nation, with its tragedy and grave consequences, begins in the 1468th century, more precisely, after the death of Gjergj Kastrioti, in the bleak winter of 1999, and as such, with tragic proportions, violence, terror, and captivity, continued until June XNUMX, when, in Kosovo, the NATO freedom army was grandly welcomed, opening paths for all Albanians in the region, and a new positive chapter, full of events, of a life in free conditions, like never before.

But there are many centuries in between, in which we have lived deprived of the continent’s most sublime blessings, we have lived poorly, despite a wall, beyond which the world was developing rapidly and beautifully, wonderful monuments of knowledge, art, and culture were built, books were written, and great art was created. 

So, it was our tragic fate that, in the continent’s brightest time, we were not fed by its goods, were not participants in its events, and did not benefit from its cultural assets. Because, we lived in opposition to Europe, or rather, trying to survive, and this attempt at survival, has created a great void in our history, as well as in the personality of the Albanian nation. It was our bad luck that until the end of the last century, Albanians could not think of sublime standards and values. Because, they were on the edge of an abyss, divided, with walls between, and in that situation, salvation is the key word.

In our national history, there are so many gaps that it seems as if you hear the bells of tragedy, mourning, losses, sorrows, and contractions incessantly.  

In this regard, one of the most positive and major European events for Albanians was the appearance on the political scene of Ibrahim Rugova, the political writer, without whom the Kosovo Liberation Army war could not have happened, in the format it was, which placed Albanians, as a nation, on the map of Europe, thus opening a new chapter for the region, but also for the continent itself. And, in the spring of 1999, as a nation, we experienced an essential historical transition. The West, led by America, bombed Serbia and made Albanians participants and protagonists in the events that would later occur in the region. 

Therefore, we must preserve the story of the 90s, created and represented so beautifully by Rugova and that of the KLA, not as electoral stories or patriotic farces, to overthrow someone or exalt someone else, but as a great turning point in Albanian history. Because, these two stories, were the fulfillment of a long journey of the Albanian nation to integrate and anchor itself as a free nation, among the nations of Europe.

It is clearly known that until the last decade of the 90th century, that is, in the early XNUMXs, Albanians, everywhere, lived in opposition to Europe, with a great and suffering longing, like that prodigal son, to return to its bosom. And, this happened, at the beginning of the last decade of the last century, when Europe returned to their lives, for which, the main merits are held by two great people: Ibrahim Rugova and Ismail Kadare. 

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 “You can’t understand what a free city means because you grew up in captivity.”, wrote Ismail Kadare in the famous novel “Chronicle in Stone.” I had read this novel at a young age and in conditions of captivity. I had felt the anxiety of war and, in addition to the fascination that the novel, the rich language, the literary adventure caused me at that time, this phrase was deeply embedded in me. Because, I belonged to a generation that did not understand what a free country meant, because I grew up under captivity.

So, it was my fate and that of my generation to grow up in captivity, in a dark time, when the word fear was everywhere, in the air, on the streets filled with brutal Serbian police, who humiliated innocent people and spread violence, in the inability to be properly educated, because our school facilities had been kidnapped by Serbia. It was a decade of isolation, when lives withered before they could even blossom, and an entire generation lived cut off from the benefits of civilization, without freedom. 

It was a terrible decade, in which, with each new dawn, you felt fear expanding its boundaries, gripping you anxiously, like savage shackles that someone was holding over your hands. 

On the other hand, poverty threatened, whose face is ugly, frightening, barbaric. We saw evil everywhere, which had drawn its own face. And as a generation, we had nothing in hand, except words, faith and hope. With unemployed parents, with a state of near social paralysis, we waited, as if from a higher power, for a merciful hand to appear and lead us from captivity to freedom. 

In those circles of hell, I dreamed every day of a Virgil, emerging as if from a long night and telling us: “Get up, here is the road to the land of freedom, to paradise.”

And we expected that hand to come from the west, as it later did. 

At that time, I was one of those who trusted the leader Ibrahim Rugova, and my faith in him has never wavered, not even today. Because he was a true and sublime reflection of a Europe that had been absent from us for centuries. 

His words, carefully spoken, sometimes resembled bells of hope and sometimes cornerstones, well thought out and carved, that would be placed in the new political edifice we aspired to build.   

Back then, when the Kosovo Liberation Army appeared on the scene, in 1997, I was a literature student and I was in love with the rich world of literature. In fact, escaping into the world of literature was a kind of salvation and escape from the poor reality in which we lived a poor life. I believed in the words of our political leader, Ibrahim Rugova, that They had the weapons, we had the words.

Yes, words were our strength and our faith.    

And as a boy devoted to literature, with minimal opportunities, with fear that we breathed like air, I did not separate myself from this world, neither when the whispers were heard that war was approaching, nor when the war actually came, and I never became a supporter of what the legacy of the KLA represented in the political life of free Kosovo. But the story about the KLA fascinated me, especially the courage to strike at evil, then, those beautiful stories that I heard from courageous people who had taken up arms, such as those who had been in the structures, when they spoke about their poor opportunities to fight and the heavenly ideals for freedom.  

This is magnificent!

For me and my generation, the KLA appeared precisely at a time when we were living in a kind of hell, and then, when the war began, I was convinced that we were in the final act of the tragedy, after which, whoever would survive, would taste the fruits of freedom.

Unfortunately, many people did not survive, many were killed, many disappeared and the destruction was great. But, we, very soon tasted the enchanting fruits of freedom. As a result, Albanians, now almost three decades later, wherever they are, live better than ever in their centuries-old history.

And this is thanks to the presence of the West in their lives.

And in the chain of these events, the political story that Rugova created, which the West admired, and the one about the KLA, have real significance, therefore, these two stories, we must preserve in their natural spirit, not to taint them, for tribal electoral resentments and interests, left and right, these two stories we must preserve and pass on to the new generations as common nourishing values, and evidence of the strength that the people of our country had, to resist and to strike the captivity of evil. And by remembering these two stories, we learn who we were yesterday, but most importantly, we can understand exactly what sublime value the West represented for us, without which, life is bad and decline is inevitable.