“ALLIANCE!”
MARXIST-LENINIST
SPRING
2006
________________________________________________________________
”MY LIFE WITH
ENVER”;
“Glory goes to the ones not asking for it”
Anti-fascist Rally
Korca, 28th November 1939
Enver Hoxa at left; Clockwise from top left:
Room of Peza Conference
Myslim Peza; Haxhi Lleshi; Nexhmije Xhuglini;
Mustafa Xhani
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
COPYRIGHT: of the original work
belongs to the
author;
and of this
translation jointly between the author and the translators - Alliance
Marxist-Leninist
First published in Albanian; by “LIRA” Tirana 1998 (Print Run: 2000).
All
Photographs from: 'Enver Hoxha 1908-1985':; Tirana; 1986;
containing photos of the Archives PPSH and of Albania Telegraphic
Agency
This is Part Two of a translation, that was commissioned and edited, with authorisation from Nexhmije Hoxha. [PART One conists of chapters 1-4 and is at
http://www.allianceML.com/PAPER/2005NOVEMBER/Chapter1_4HoxhaFIN.html
It was undertaken and effected by an Editorial Board drawn from the Communist League (UK) and Alliance-ML (North America). All board members, are former members
of the now defunct ‘Albania Society’ organised by W.B.Bland.
All web-materials of this book are available to be distributed - but copyright is held by this board in association with Nexhmije Hoxha.
All permissions to copy this material on the web or in print format will be freely given, provided that the material is prefaced with the above statements.
Should there be any errors remaining in translation, we apologise for these, and stress that they are solely the responsibility of the Editorial Board noted above – not the author.
We are publishing this initially as a series on the web. In due course we will be publishing the entire authorised translation as two volumes in a bound version.
November 2005.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
1. Authors Preface
I decided to write these memoirs about my life with Enver when I felt a
strong
need to suppress the torturing loneliness of my prison cell. I started
with
memories from our youth, our life together, the first meeting and love
- that
had connected the two of us so much. I had never even talked to my
children
about these matters, and I have kept these memories to myself,
throughout my
life.
With the passing of time, our ideal life together was embellished and
transformed into a source of endless happiness, and into a moral
strength that
kept me alive in very difficult situations and circumstances.
Sentenced to 11 years of imprisonment, under absurd charges, it had
been
already determined that I would not be released until I was over 80
years old.
It is for that reason that I decided to
write these memoirs, so that they are left to my children, for them to
learn
about the life experiences of their parents, before they were born, and
when
they were little. And, even later, when we had not been able to find
the time,
to talk to them about these things.
So, my children came to learn of them gradually, by reading notes that
I had
secretly written in prison. They were brave enough to become my muses
together
with their families – they helped me to fulfill the promise that I had
made to
their father, my Enver.
At the suggestion of many comrades and friends, I decided to publish these memoirs, hoping that I would be able to satisfy the wishes of many veterans, the co-fighters of Enver; as well as to answer the curiosity of the new generations who would not know Enver as the leader of our country and people for nearly 50 years.
During the 7 years of social and political collapse in our country,
much was
said and written about Enver and his work, including much which was
absurd,
banal and even monstrous. In these memoirs I do not want to dwell on
the many
deceits and obscenities thrown into the Albanian political arena. I
only
reminisce and describe Enver just as he was, during his life, the war,
work,
political activities, and with family and friends. Fifty years is a
rather long
period and the memories reflected in this book are not scientific
analyses of
the history of that period and the role of Enver Hoxha. Even as
memories they
cannot completely cover that time span.
But being
confined to a prison
cell, it was these memories that kept me going, and it was in such a
situation
that I began to write them down - when allowed to do so and when I had
the
chance.
Each memory brought back others until they became too many to be
included in a
single volume and I therefore decided to divide them into two books.
Book I, is the one you have in your hands, “My L
It includes first acquaintance, our love, our meetings during the time
of the
National Liberation War, our life in the family after liberation; the
daily
routine of life and work of Enver, encounters with missions sent by the
Yugoslavian
Communist Party, and their agents in our Party (whose aim was to
include
Albania as a seventh republic of the Yugoslav federation); the close
friendship
with the SU (Soviet Union) during Stalin's time and, later, the
betrayal of the
stigmatized revisionist N. S Khrushchev and the ones following him. As
chronologically ordered, these memoirs reach the year 1973, although a
strict
chronology is not necessarily adhered to within each chapter.
Book II reflects “The last ten years of my life with Enver”. The
memories in
this book are somewhat detached from each other, and this period was a
rather
disturbed time for the Party and our government too. Towards the end of
1973,
Enver suffered his first heart attack. Since the recent years of
"democracy"
there has been much speculation with regard to Enver's health. But,
based upon
the evidence that I have, I can categorically deny the false rumors
regarding
Enver's inability to continue working in his highly responsible office.
The
years following were full of activities, whether in the political arena
or in
his personal creativity. This is evidenced by his wide ranging
activities
during this period, his many political initiatives and the several
editions of
memoirs that he wrote in addition to his ideological or political
writings.
During 1974-1975, Enver had to fight against anti party activity, anti-socialists and anti-nationalist who were associated with some of the party members. I write about these in my memoirs and show how Enver handled them and survived these difficulties.
Much speculation has circulated regarding the relationship between
Enver and
Mehmet Shehu. Therefore, in the second book, I have dedicated a whole
chapter
to the special character this relationship had, and of the long
collaboration
and suicide of Mehmet Shehu.
A special part of this second book is dedicated, not only to personal
memories,
but also to Enver’s arguments on the
nature of the relations with the Communist Party of China and the
Certainly
I couldn’t leave out a
description of his character and personality, as a man of cultural
interests,
and of a broad mentality. Enver especially respected men and women of
scientific, artistic and literary backgrounds. It is with great
discontent that
I have had to read from many politicians, writers and intellectuals'
various invented
and denigrating charges, which are completely untrue.
With regards to his relation with the people - the straight-forward
people -
Enver was always a popular leader; with his collaborators he behaved as
a
friend and respected teacher, as he did with the revolutionaries and
Marxist
Leninists of other countries; he was a diplomat with politicians and
foreign
friends; and with his family and friends he was a HUMAN.
I apologize to the readers in the case of any minor inconsistencies,
who should
take into consideration that these memoirs were written down when I was
imprisoned without any documentation
available. There I was not even allowed to use my husband’s books, with
which I
could check and refresh my memories. I could not do this even after I
was out
of prison. The first six months of 1997 are well known for the
political
turmoil within
With all the difficulties encountered in the preparation of these
memoirs, I
would like to say that they wouldn't have come to light without the
support and
concrete contributions of friends who have assisted me as advisers for
such a
publication; and those who as editors who undertook the publication of
this
edition. I will not mention their names for the moment, for reasons
which are
clearly understandable, yet I express my gratitude, and my respect
towards
their benevolence and consistent stance in spite of unknown storms
passing over
our people and country.
I also express my gratitude to the publishing house that undertook
bringing
into the light my collected memoirs.
Chpaters 1-4 are at
http://www.allianceML.com/PAPER/2005NOVEMBER/Chapter1_4HoxhaFIN.html
5. A
love born and brought up in war
On
May 22nd, I went to Enver's base, which
was in the
house next to the Electric Power Plant of Tirana. (Today an Embassy has
been
built on this site).
It
was nearly ten o’clock. There I found Enver. He was happy at seeing me
and took
me to the room I have described, where there were 2 sofas covered in
red fur.
The beautiful and warm spring sun entered through the only big window.
After
he had asked me about some issues related to work with the youth group,
he got
up to fetch a photo album. He came and sat next to me on the sofa.
“Would
you like to see some pictures of mine when I was young in Gjirokaster,
Korca and France? I got them from my
sister, the
mother of Luan (Omari)”
he asked me.
Without
receiving an answer from me, he started to skim through the album,
introducing
me to the members of his family; his grandmother, parents, sisters,
first cousins, uncles and aunts.
While commenting on one of his best pictures, in which he was dressed
up,
wearing a suit and a Papillion, with a white handkerchief in his
pocket, he
said laughing:
“This
suit, I borrowed from the son of my uncle, Zihni
Luci, who attended medical studies in Vienna
”.
Then
he introduced me to some friends from Gjirokastra,
and others from the Korca
Gymnasium.
Almost
all of those photos are now known to the public as they were published
in an
album and have been displayed on various occasions. In the album there
were
other pictures taken in France, Montpellier and Paris with Albanian
friends,
including young girls. In a picture, he was with Vedat
Kokona at the beach, in a bathing suit.
There was a
girl in between them. In another there was a middle-aged woman with a
shopping
bag. The picture had been taken on the road and he introduced her to me
as the
landlady of the house they had rented. There was this other picture of
a
beautiful young girl, a brunette. It was the only portrait. He didn’t
dwell on
her photo and made no comments. I didn’t ask, not then, and never ever
during
our life together. For me it was obvious. I couldn’t imagine or pretend
that a
young handsome man like Enver, in France, would lead the life of an
ascetic.
This wouldn’t be normal.
As
we were leaning on the wall, sitting next to each other and while he
was
showing to me the last pictures, he tried to put his head onto my
shoulder as
if wanting to say, “I love you”.
I
moved my shoulder automatically without words, meaning “Don’t you
dare”.
He
closed the album and stood up. I felt like laughing, because I
understood why
he showed me those pictures, but on the other hand I didn’t ask any
questions;
I showed no reaction at all, no curiosity. This made Enver feel
embarrassed and
certainly he thought:
“What
can I do? She doesn’t want to understand”.
So
after lunch he played a trick on me. He
decided to go and sleep after having his meal and told me:
“ Wake
me up at five o’clock”.
I
started reading in the dinning room. At five I opened the door in order
to wake
him up. He wasn’t sleeping and was standing on the sofa smoking. The
room was
foggy with smoke. Enver seemed not to have slept much, perhaps, not at
all. I
went to open the window and while standing around in the room, not
knowing what
to do, he said to me:
“Can
you make some coffee for me, and or yourself if you want too? “
“With
pleasure”, I said.
I
usually don’t like coffee because I can’t sleep after.
I went to the kitchen and put the utensils,
cups, etc. on a tray together with a small electric kettle and returned to the room. I
placed them on a table at the end of the room, where the socket was. As
I had
my back to him, making coffee, Enver said from where he was standing:
“You
know what, Nexhmije, since you don’t
understand or
pretend as if you don’t understand, I will be frank: I want to marry
you.”
I
was completely taken aback by this proposal, which was made in such a
straightforward manner, and it was like a bomb had exploded above me. I
wouldn't have expected that this expression of love from a man would
hit me in
such a prosaic way; me, a romantic girl who imagined love so
differently and especially
during these war conditions; I feared war as much as marriage. In order
to
recover from the confusion that this unexpected proposal caused, I
boiled the
coffee several times. Enver laughingly
asked:
“Is
the coffee not yet ready Nexhmije?”
I
had to pour the coffee into a cup and took it to him. Apparently, I had
blushed, because after he took the cup he stopped to look at me for a
while and
then said smiling and with a calming and soothing voice:
“I
guess you didn’t expect that, did you? You can sit here, I will not
hurt you!”
and
then he burst into laughter. I sat on a corner of the sofa, silent,
playing
with my fingers. He spoke more seriously this time:
“What
do you think?”
Without
turning my head to look at his face I replied:
“I
am not going to get married during the war!”
“I
didn’t mean to get married during the war. With the proposal I set
forth, I
meant to say that I love you and that I am serious in saying that, but
you, you
ought to think carefully about it; look deep into your heart. You
should also
consider that we have a certain age difference.”
I
was twenty-one and he was thirty-four. This age difference was of great
concern
to Enver so he repeated it to me again up to the time I made my
decision. From
what I understand, Enver, was more worried
about this
age difference since it could make me refuse his proposal. Age
differences
according to Enver, could influence our future relations and make me
regret
later. I thought differently about it though. In my imagination I had
never
seen my husband as being of the same age as me. He should be at least a
few
years older since this, so I thought, would offer me more protection. This is what I thought when I was young, but
with the passing of time this age difference took on another meaning
that
further strengthened our love. I was happy that I married him, because
this
offered me the opportunity to him as a wife and friend until the end of
his
life.
Even
now, in the writing of these memories, I desire to express my endless
love and
the wish to serve him until my dying days.
“See you at
our house”
Ten
days later I went to Nushaj’s Barrack,
situated
somewhere close to the “Shqiperia Sot”
Exhibition. Kozma Nushi had
been for some months the secretary of the cell of which I was a member.
There I
found Enver, although I had not known before hand that he would be
there. Valide, mother
to three boys and two girls, opened the door of the room. She was
surprised,
but also pleased at seeing Enver happy. He threw his arm around my neck
and
shoulders. Valide stopped at the door for
some
moments, smiled and asked:
“Who
is she Taras? “
“A friend Valide, a
friend!” - He replied
laughing.
I,
embarrassed, lowered my head, but the warmness of Valide
made my embarrassment disappear. She was a loving woman, brave,
affectionate
and caring, this is why everybody loved and adored her as if she were
“The
Mother” of Gorky. Enver, in his memoirs has written about this family.
I had
never before seen a more poor, but kind and simple, family.
Enver
took me by the hand and we sat on a rug, next to the window with thin
suspended
curtains. Then he asked me of any news from outside. We talked about
the work
with the youth and finally, he asked me again:
“What
else will you tell me?”
He
was looking straight into my eyes and smiling at questioning me. I
understood
his point and answered with the same smile:
“Nothing new from the
western front!” “Ok”,
he said, ”Patience”
in French and took me to the door saying:
“See you at our House!”
“My Goodness!” – I said to myself smiling. I have a
house already. I left deeply
confused in my heart and mind. I could see now that my concepts of love
and war
were being shaken, from the foundations, despite this I felt something
special:
I was in love! I waited for two weeks more, interrogating and testing
myself
about this vital decision I had to make about my future. I spent many
sleepless
nights and finally made up my mind. The dam, artificially built, in
front of my
natural and marvelous feelings of love, was broken.
On
June 22nd I visited “our house”. There I found Enver writing and
smoking. He had been smoking so much that
the room was
full of smoke. This room as I have previously described served as an
exit to
the road, with one or two steps. It only had a longish window, which
went up
the wall close to the ceiling. Enver was sitting on the rug next to the
wall
and opened the upper part of the window called the “sopraluce”.
He opened the internal doors, as it was rather hot. He was wearing a
white
shirt, with his sleeves rolled up. His wavy, voluminous hair was not
combed. He
used to wear it like that during the war and especially when writing. I
always
liked him this way. He looked younger, more energetic, fully motivated
to work.
On
this day he had removed his moustache. This was the first sacrifice he
would
make for me. Once he had asked me :
“how do I look
with a moustache?”
Without
thinking I had replied, “the
moustache doesn’t suit you!”
That
day I was wearing a silk dress, given to me by the owner of the house.
Having
this dress on and with a different hairstyle, I had my picture in the
small
yard behind that house. I had another picture taken with me in the same
dress
but with a silk scarf on my head, a brown one like the cloth of my
dress and
with dark sunglasses; in it I am with Luan
(Omari) and Gjike Kuqali,
in the house of the later. We would dress like
this during our time of struggle in Tirana. Wearing lipstick was
important too.
This way we would escape identification. As soon as we would enter the
bases
where we were staying or holding meetings, we would wipe our lipstick
off. So
the day, I went to the house of Enver, I wiped my lipstick off, took
off my
scarf, combed my hair and then I sat on the rug leaning on the wall.
Enver
was sitting on the dinning table that also functioned as a desk;
collecting the
papers on which he was working, he asked me:
“How
are you? Anything new?”.
He
said those words without smiling and without any special expression on
his face
or in his voice, in order to make me understand that there was no
expectation
underlying his questions. On the contrary, he acted in a rather
pessimistic and
relaxed manner and there was no feeling on my part that he was trying
to
pressure me. But, I replied with a straightforward answer, as he had
with his
proposal, one month ago. I told him:
“The
front of my resistance is broken, I surrender comrade…”
This
so was unexpected for him, that for a moment he was shocked and he
looked into
my eyes trying
to understand if, what he had heard, was correct.
“Yes,
Yes”, I said, smiling: “I surrender” .
He
jumped on his feet very happy, emotional, and came to sit next to me.
He hugged
me very close to his chest, and we stayed like this for some moments.
The he
said:
“I
am very happy, we will be so happy together..
we will fight for our happiness and love
together..”.
After
we had recovered from these furious first emotions he said:
“I
am so sorry we cannot celebrate this day with something sweet or
something to
drink. There is nothing here. . . . We can only have a coffee; let’s
have the
first coffee of our engagement”
“I
agree”, I said, “But there are some conditions”.
“Let’s
hear these conditions”, said Enver making himself comfortable where he
was
standing.
I
proceeded:
“First;
as long as the war lasts, I wouldn’t want us to marry, and second; I
need some
time before our engagement is announced…! “
“Regarding
the first condition”, said Enver, “I fully agree, I will respect your
opinion,
whilst regarding the second point, no, I can’t hide this news from my
best
friends like Nako, Ymer (Dishnica),
Gogo and others. It
wouldn't sound too good for them to hear
the news from other people. Suspicions might be aroused also. On the
other
hand, I think that our families should be told. They all will be very
happy. My
family is looking forward to seeing their only son engaged. They worry
about my
war and illegal status, so there would be nothing more beautiful than
seeing me
married…”, he said laughing.
“Ceremonies
are starting”, I
said to myself.
Exactly what I didn’t
want. It seemed to me
young people didn’t generally like
such formalities. I, a young romantic, wanted to make him desire me
because we
were in love. Whilst Enver, being more mature, wanted to seal
everything
seriously and respect the best traditions of the people, as well as
Party norms
especially during a time when enemies and antagonists were accusing the
communists of everything.
Enver
was right in saying that he wanted our serious and pure relations to be
officialised, because the rules of war were
rather strict
in this direction: love and engagements were not forbidden in their
most
serious forms, but friends were to be notified (command and Party).
Amongst the
Partisan Army and underground communists, cohabitation and marriage
were not
allowed. Cases of engagement and secret cohabitation, against the
Party’s
wishes, were severely punished with extremely painful measures, as
happened in
some situations.
The
first to know the news about my engagement was my mother. It was more
than two
months since I had last seen her. I asked to see her at the house of a
cousin
of ours. She had missed me horribly and was concerned about the fascist
terror
exercised on us. There were only my parents at my house sustaining
themselves
on the low wages of my father. I tried to console my mother, but she
would not
stop crying.
“Qemal was
killed too”, she would say, “How will you
survive?”
Crying,
my mother said:
“Dearest
daughter, if you had had someone to rely upon, I wouldn’t feel so
worried about
you…”.
As
she was saying those words I might have smiled and when she saw me like
that,
she immediately asked:
“Do
you have a boyfriend?” I lowered my head again. “I guess you have found
someone!”, she said – “He ought to be
Muslim!””
“Yes,
he is Muslim, in fact he is a muezzin!”
“You
must be kidding me!”; she said exalted.
“No,
I am not kidding!”- I replied, and then explained how things were and
what we
had decided.
My mother
meets Enver
I
don’t remember how long it took for Enver to ask to meet my mother. We
arranged
a meeting in an underground base, numbered 66, somewhere near where Ali
Demi Street is today. As soon as you
entered this house
there was a covered porch on both sides of it and there were two
separate
rooms. Deep in the courtyard, full of flowers and vines, there was the
Tirana
house of Hysen
Dashi. In
both rooms available for the underground guests, many meetings would be
held
because the house was considered to be located in the suburbs of the
town. Now
many buildings and private houses surround it.
I,
who am in prison while writing these my
memoirs, am
trying to orient myself with regard to the location of house 66 that
was in
this neighborhood.
I
am not sure whether it exists or it has been demolished in the
framework of
urban planning. Near this house should be the house of Xhemal Shijaku, which was rented by Pirro and Alqi Kondi and
where the newspaper “The Voice of the People (Zeri i Popullit)” was published.
In this house we would also organize the meetings of the Editing Board
for the
Youth paper ”Call for Liberation”.
It
may have been in June or July, I don’t
remember very
well when my mother came to house 66. She was met and was introduced to
Enver
there. He gave her a hug and invited her to take a seat. He started the
discussion making some jokes, as was usual for Enver, in order to make
her feel
comfortable and feel free of emotions. He then said:
“I
have taken your daughter; are you upset with me?”
“No”,
said my mother, “May you have a long and happy life together! However, if previously I had to worry about
my two children, now I have to worry about three. I am afraid; how will
you
fight this strong enemy, they are large and wild.”.
“No,
dear mother,” said Enver, “They are numerous, that is true, but we are
stronger, because we are fighting to gain our rights and for the
liberation of
our homeland that is being subjugated…”.
He
continued talking warmly to my mother so that she wouldn’t fear the
war. He
asked her about my father, (Tefik Ephendem he would call
him), about my brother Fehmi
as well.
Then he talked to her about his family situation, and told her how
happy they
were because of this engagement. He also said to my mother:
“I
will take Nexhmije to the house of my
elder sister, there she will meet Ane,
my mother, and my younger sister, Sano. Then it will be your turn to
get to
know each other and, as in laws, you will exchange visits as often as
the
conditions allow during this period. I and Nexhmije
have decided not to fully officially announce the engagement!”.
With
the meeting coming to an end they hugged each other. Certainly, my
mother was
very complacent with my choice, he met her expectations, from both the
outer
appearance and the conversation they had had.
Getting to
know Enver’s family
One
day, Enver told me that he would introduce me to his elder sister, Fahrije, known
to all (including her sons) as Fajè.
He told me the location of her house and it wasn’t
difficult to find, since it was located on the road named Qemal
Stafa where we used to have a rented house.
The house
was next to the elementary school I had attended. Entering and exiting
the
house for those of us who were 'undercover' wasn’t very practical
because, the
door was on the big road and this made it difficult to see if anyone
was
following us or not. It was an old two-story house, with two rooms on
the upper
floor and two porches on each floor. All the floors and stairs were
made of
wood. The kitchen was outside, in the courtyard.
Anyway,
in order to avoid my knocking on some other door; waiting for me,
outside, was
my friend Luan. I had known him
before because he worked actively with the youth, and the Press. When I
entered, Enver’s sister came to greet me.
She hugged
and kissed me and then said:
“Welcome
Vera, come on in. May you bring good
spirits to our house! ”
All
of Enver's family, even after the
liberation, called
me Vera, since this was the name I had on the fake identity card during
the
Anti fascist National Liberation War.
Fahrije
took me upstairs and opened the door to a small room in which Enver
sat,
smiling. He gave me a big hug and asked
his sister:
“Hey
Faje’ what do you think of my wife?”
Both
of them laughed and joked with each other, sister and brother, whereas
I was
rather embarrassed, just like the sister-in-law in front of the other
sister-in-law. Although, she was a special sister-
in-law.
She said to me:
“This
is the room where Enver stays and works, when he visits us. Now this is
your
room. You can stay here and talk. For the night I will bring you a
mattress,
whereas Enver will sleep with the men.”
The
room had a window, with a view of the exit door. This made it
practical, as one
could see and check the people entering. One of the windows had a thin
cloth
curtain with silk stripes, similar to the ones that were woven on the
weaving
loom of women. Next to the window there was a rug covered with a
flowery cloth.
On the wall there was a straw filled pillow, which Enver would lean on
and
write for hours, articles and letters for circulation to all party
committees
as well as letters to his friends.
In
a corner of the room there was a small shelf with books. There were no
tables
or chairs. When Enver would sit and work on the rug I would sit on my
mattress,
on the floor, and would read or write something.
That
night or the next one, I went downstairs and was introduced to the owner of the
house, Bahri
Omar. He gave me the impression of
being an intellectual, by the way in which he behaved and the way he
led a
conversation. It was obvious he loved and respected his wife, since he
sheltered her communist brother and fiancé. Usually when there were no
guests,
Enver would go downstairs to have his lunch or dinner with the people
of the
house, whereas I preferred not to. They would bring the meal upstairs
to the
room, because someone might come unexpectedly and find me there if I
ate
downstairs.
Once,
I was unable to avoid this eventuality. I usually keep the door of my
room
locked but, on that particular day, thinking that someone from the
house was at
home, I had unlocked it. The door was suddenly opened and I found a
dignified,
good-looking, middle-aged man in front of me! He was as astounded at
seeing me,
as I was in seeing him. After a few moments of eyeing each other, he
made his
apologies and left. From what I learned later from my sister-in-law and
from
Enver, he was their uncle, Shyqyri Cuci, a very rich merchant.
He was not involved in the
war of our country, but his son, Jusuf,
later was a
partisan and a martyr. Enver was not there at that moment. Thank God
the uncle
didn’t find us together in the room!
However, neither Enver nor I were ever together there.
Each
of us would be working on our own. We would move a lot from one
underground
base to the other. Because, although we were outlawed, we wouldn’t stay
for
long at the same base or place. Almost everyday we would have different
meetings, be they party related or with anti-fascists, patriots,
intellectuals,
youth, women and other simple people. Neither of us would stay for long
at the
same base. We would change often in order not to burden the same
families many
of whom were sometimes very poor, and also, of course, we didn't want
to be
noticed.
Ane, Enver’s
mother, came to
visit Fahrije’s house one week after I had
been
introduced to her. Her real name was Gjylihan,
(Rose), and for short she was called Gjylo.
Also, Enver's youngest sister, Sanije, came to visit me.
I
was very nervous about meeting Enver's
mother: How
would I look in front of her, the wife of the son? She really made it
easy for
me. As soon as she saw me, she hugged me and with a sweet motherly
voice she
wished:
“May
you have a long life, daughter, May you have a happy life”.
Ane was
a tall, upright woman. She was a wise, intelligent lady. This could be
seen,
not only from her speech but also from her appearance. Later, I would
become
very close to her.
That
day we simply chatted for some moments; she asked me about my family
etc.,
whilst I would answer in a shy way. I wouldn’t say much, since I was
quite
embarrassed, I didn’t know what to say, I was very nervous. The
conversation
covered many topics, as the French would say, “a batons rompus”
(desultory). We laughed twice, when Ane
called me
daughter in law. Fahrije smiling said to
her:
“Ane, don’t
start calling her daughter in law this early,
because not everybody has to know. You might have a slip of the tongue
when she
visits your house. We should call her
Vera since that is what is noted on her identity card. Okay? ”
That
was right, Vera was noted in my identity card but it didn’t help much
on one
particular day, when I went to visit the house of Enver’s
parents in Tirana. It was a single storey
house with
two rooms. There was also a neighbor of theirs who was visiting, she
was from Dibra and immediately recognized
me. The funny thing was
that when I went to Enver’s house,
everyone felt
rather strange since no one had remembered to tell uncle Halil, Enver’s
father, about our engagement. All of his
children would call him uncle Halil. They
hadn’t told
him since he was thought to be too curious and couldn’t keep a secret.
I felt
sorry about his being kept in the dark since he was a part of the
family too.
When I got to know him, I loved him more; especially when I would make
him feel
happy. He was such a nice and kind old man.
I
would visit my sister-in-law’s house, from time after time, when I
found myself
in difficulty and when the fascists and reactionaries were becoming
more
aggressive.
6. Great
terror in Tirana
One
night, I was expecting Enver to come to his sister’s house, but he
didn’t show
up. It was already dark, and the time for “coprifuoco”
[curfew, Italian in the original] was near. I started to get worried
and was
wondering what could have happened? But soon Luan showed up and gave me
a small
letter given to him by some friends of the Party Committee. Enver had
written
to me:
“I
am leaving for Vlora. Sadik Premtja
is messing around there. Don’t
worry! Taras”.
It
was easy for him to say; “don’t worry”, but I couldn’t relax! What was
this
unexpected trip about? Was the situation that serious? Who might he be
traveling with? The road was very dangerous. What if he was discovered
and
recognized? He had been sentenced to death in-abstensia.
How would he enter Vlora? How could I
sleep with all
these worries and questions pounding and torturing me?
In
Tirana, during this period, there was terror everywhere, wild terror.
Our
communist friends, fighters, anti-fascists, were arrested, imprisoned,
tortured,
killed and hanged at the most frequented roads and squares in order to
put fear
into the hearts of the people. In those houses that were under
suspicion by the
enemy, there were frequent controls. The enemy command had issued an
order
requiring that every family had to attach to the door, a list of all
the family
members in the house; and that any dinner or overnight guests had to be
registered at the local police station. If these rules were broken then
all
involved would be severely punished. Obviously, it was very difficult for those
who had been outlawed, to
find shelter and to operate within the city. Therefore they were forced
to
sleep fully clothed and with pistols and hand grenades under their
pillows. In
advance, they had prepared hiding places in various houses, so that
they could
move on undetected at a moments notice. At the same time they also had
to carry
guns and keep a sharp lookout so that they could escape any potential
attack.
The heroic acts of our fighters were well known by our people but I can
also
say that, the families who sheltered us were no less dedicated,
cold-blooded
and brave and ready to sacrifice their own lives.
In
addition to the controls exercised on certain houses, during day or
night;
during “coprifuoco” [curfew, Italian in the
original]
hours, when no one was allowed to leave their house, there were two
organized
searches: “a setaccio” [Italian in the
original],
meaning “as if with a comb”, which were
from 18:00 or 20:00 until 6 a.m. in Tirana. An order was issued that,
nobody
was to leave the house until an all clear was issued, saying that the search had been
completed throughout the city. These searches were conducted by groups
of five
or six persons of whom, two were armed Italian carabinieri
and the others Albanian militia led by known spies in the pay of the
enemy.
During
one of these searches I happened to be in the house of Enver’s
sister. Enver had left Tirana a few days before for Vlora.
What could I do? I disguised myself as a servant; I wore an apron, put
a scarf
on my head covering my forehead and took off my socks. I then poured
buckets of
water all over the floor, corridors and stairs. When the search party
entered
through the courtyard door, I observed them from the second floor since
I was
somewhat nervous in case any of them might recognize me. The only
person who
could recognize me was the spy Seit Mati, who used to be a
neighbor of mine
had lived next door to us. He was the second most notorious killer and
spy
after Man Kukaleshi.
Fortunately he was not with this search party. When I saw that none of
them
would be able to
recognize me, I relaxed. However, they would probably ask
me for
my ID, but since it was forged, I couldn't show it to them. So the
owner of the
house and I agreed that, we would say that I went to her house once a
week to
do the cleaning and that I was half-witted.
I played this role wonderfully. It was a role in which I
wondered around
talking to myself and not caring who they were.
One
of them pushed me strongly saying angrily
”Move
on you damn idiot”.
“Goddamn
it they are messing up my floor and it will be hard to get clean!"- I
said.
They
searched all over the house. When they entered the small room, where
Enver used
to work and stay during the day I could feel my heart pounding as I
thought:
“what if Enver
were here today? What would have happened?”
Certainly, a
catastrophe. Enver
would have fired off the whole of his arsenal
that he kept in his bag, which, anytime he would go out, would be
placed on the
back of his bicycle. Apart from this there were his handgun and two
hand
grenades that he would keep in his belt, and two more hand grenades in
the
pockets of his coat and overcoat.
Escaping
from this house and saving oneself, would be a pretty hard job, since
the road outside
were usually full of people coming and going. Today this road is called
Qemal Stafa
road.
But
at this particular moment, I felt relaxed enough since Enver was
neither in the
house nor in Tirana. I felt like laughing, because I had been reduced
to this
sorry state. In a corner of the room where Enver and I stayed and
worked, there
was a small library shelf full of the usual literature and schoolbooks.
In
spite of this, they threw everything on the floor, skimming through all
of
them, trying to find anything suspicious. They continued to search like
this in
the other room where the boys of the house slept. Enver used to sleep
there
too. The three of them would sleep on the floor, but Enver’s
mattress was not there, so they weren’t sure if there were two or three
people
sleeping there. The parquet floor was lime yellowish from being washed
so
often; it was very old, and parts of it could be moved. Underneath the
parquet
we could hide brochures, gazettes and leaflets, published by the party.
So
we can say that Enver’s nephews slept on
“bombs”. In
these holes I could hide and save my correspondence with Enver, the
letters
that Enver had sent to me during the war. In contrast, my letters to
him have
been lost (apart from two) together with some documents of his
concerning the
Party and the National Liberation Front's activities during the winter
Nazi
operation, which placed the general
headquarter under
siege.
The
second search, on another occasion, found me in the house of another
anti-fascist, the democrat Malo Frasheri, where I was
always welcomed by him and his
wife, Ruze Frasheri
(Sister of Deko
Rusi), who
was a distinguished activist in the organization of the Anti-fascist
Women
Union. They had a little daughter, who seeing that the house was full
of
strangers, started to cry and scream. I was already used to playing the
role of
the servant, and so, took the girl in my arms and went out into the
yard,
acting as if I wanted to calm her down and have a walk with her. Time
and again
I would pinch her so that she would continue to cry and consequently
keep me
away from the beasts. Several years after the liberation, I met her by
chance,
that little girl who now had completed her higher educational studies.
She was
attending a socio-cultural event. I hugged her and, being very
moved, I said:
“Hopefully
you have forgiven me for the pinching when you were young?!”
She
had been told about this by her parents, when she had begun to
understand the
world around her. At that moment both of us started to laugh. For me
this is a
beautiful memory and therefore I couldn’t leave it out of this memoir.
Vojo
Kushi over the tank
On
the road that takes you to the hospitals, there used to be a mosque in
a narrow
street, called the Mosque of Zajmi. I
don't know why
it was called that. Syrja Selfo, a
friend of Enver, had rented a house nearby this mosque, since he was
marrying Bibika,
one of the two sisters of the house
where Enver took me by bicycle. Selfo's
brothers, big
merchants, did not approve of that relationship, because Bibika
was originally from a modest family and by profession, she was a nurse.
Before
getting married she spent some time with Enver’s
family.
I
was in the Selfo house, the day that Vojo Kushi and
other comrades put up the legendary resistance towards hundreds of
fascist
invader forces, who had surrounded them with tanks. I could hear the
roar of
the guns from the base where I was staying. Not knowing who was
involved in the
siege, I rushed to the house at the Zajmi
mosque in
order to check if Enver was there. He had returned from Vlora
and, despite the terror that was taking place, had entered Tirana. I
found him
at the house. He was very worried and was very restless. He was moving
around
the room, smoking one cigarette after another since he had heard the
guns and
didn’t know where the battle was. When I told him that the fight was
taking
place in the direction of Ije Farka’s house, he became
black with anger and told me
that in that house, where he had been the previous day, were sheltered Vojo Kushi, Xhoxhi
Martini
and Sadik Stavaleci.
The latter was sheltered there because he was sick. Enver told me that
he had reprimanded them
severely because he had found them cleaning the guns in a slow manner.
They had
stripped their guns completely and were taking too much time, which in
the
present situation of fascist terror, was a
grave
error.
Enver
had also ordered Ije and her son not to
allow our
fighters in and out of the house, because the enemy had multiple
controls and
the situation was extremely dangerous. Apparently that base had been
compromised and now was under attack.
Enver
couldn’t stand the situation any longer, so he said:
“What
if you go out; go to Gogo (Nushi) in order to find
out what is happening, who is fighting who, and how things are going?”
Without
hesitation I went to one of the youth activists not far from the house
where
Enver was, and made inquiries. He was of the opinion that he should go
out
himself to find outabout the situation and
then
report to me . I had to stay in his house,
and after
half an hour he came back with shocking news. Vojo,
the brave one, had been killed. He had fought heroically, jumping over
a tank
that had approached him. He had thrown a grenade inside the tank but in
so
doing, had been killed as well. His two friends, Xhoxhi
Martini and Sadik Stalaveci
were also killed.
With
a heavy heart I went back to Enver. What could I tell him? My head
didn’t want
me to tell him such bad news?! As soon as he saw me looking so shocked,
he
understood that it was probably because of the tragic loss of our
friends. I
had to give him the news. Enver was devastated and overwhelmed with
tears, as
was I. The death of Vojo Kushi
and the other two comrades was a great a loss for the Party since Vojo Kushi was
responsible for
the guerrilla units of the capital city. He was the right person for
this very
dangerous and delicate task.
The
people used to say that he was the bravest but he was also level headed
and
calm. He had been given the nickname
Tarzan due to his athletic body. He had a face that was rosy and his
eyes were
blue and sweet like a cloudless sky. One would never imagine that he
was the
main organizer of
activities such as the anti-fascist sabotage
and assassinations of dangerous
spies. I knew Vojo but Enver knew him
better and had
had a working relationship with him. Deeply wounded, we talked for a
while
about his courage, character, decisiveness and heroic bravery.
The
party had many brave men like Vojo Kushi. During July 1942, I went to another base.
I was
surprised when I found Enver there too. After we greeted each other he
said:
“Can
you take a seat until I finish the work that I am doing”.
I
sat in front of him on the other side of the dinning table, where he
was working.
On it, I could see some paper strips about five to six cm wide. He was
writing
something on them by dipping his pen into an inkpot full of something
white and
later, he would roll them up just like slim cigarettes. I was intrigued
enough
and asked him:
”What
are you doing?”
Without
raising his head he answered:
“I
am writing…”.
I
didn’t understand this because I could see nothing on the paper strips
and I
said to him:
“Why
are you kidding me?!”.
But
he was indeed writing something using something called “invisible ink ” which can be used for confidential
correspondence.
Suddenly
he took a match in his hand and told me: ”Look
here”,
He
lit the match, put it underneath the paper,
keeping it
at a slight distance.
What
could I see? I started to notice
immediately the black letters and read more or less, from what I
remember:
”. . .
on July 24th, throughout the country, at…o’clock in the evening,
telephone and
telegraph cables will be cut off. This action will also incapacitate
the
invaders’ telecommunication…to show them that our power is everywhere
…therefore the choosing of places should be done carefully and the same
timing
should be kept and respected everywhere, so none of the comrades will
be
harmed. . . . ”
My
surprise turned into enthusiasm.
“You know what you can do”, said Enver, “take some of
these
stripes and start writing on them so that we finish earlier”.
After
we finished writing, he rolled all of them and put them into a small
box. I
didn’t ask about the way they were going to be distributed.
Such
documents were not preserved, but if there were still any remaining,
they would
be in the archives in both Enver's and my
handwriting. The action described in them was carried out successfully
and
became quite famous. The Fascist invaders were highly alarmed although
the
courageous uncontrollable guerrilla fighter, Mihal Duri,
had confused the timing and,
despite having been slow to take action, went to his appointed place
and
carried out his part in an extremely dangerous situation.
7. Delegate at
the Peza Conference
Enver
was very keen to have meetings with anti-fascist intellectuals in the
capital
city. In his memoirs he has described in detail the discussions that he
had
with a wide variety of personalities of that time. Some were known nationalists, some considered themselves “fathers
of the
nation”. They had done various things in their lives, but now that they
had the
allies of Nazi Germany in their homeland and Europe was set ablaze,
they were
doing nothing.
The
Albanian Communist Party, since its
foundation (November 1941), and during its first
Conference (Labinot 1943), had made, as
a
priority in its program and decisions, a call for the unification of
all the
people to fight against the invaders. Enver Hoxha began this task fully
dedicated.
Sometime
around the beginning of August 1942, Enver talked to me about the plan
they had
for the convening of a Conference for
the creation of an Anti-fascist National Liberation Front. This
would be
with the participation of members from different social strata and
regions, who
would be recognized by the people as patriots and nationalists and who
would
want to fight against the invader. When we met during those times, I
would
sometimes notice him working on a paper that was to be presented and
which
concerned the national liberation
councils. As he explained, in the future, they would operate as a nuclei, exercising the function of popular
power organs
at the base level. He was working on a certain basic platform, which
would be
discussed and decisions would be taken.
In
one of these meetings Enver told me that the leaders of the Party had
decided
that I should take part in this conference. He explained to me the
great
historical importance it would have. Therefore I had to take measures
and get
well prepared in order to speak about the actual social situation of
the
Albanian Woman, to speak about their spiritual worlds and their
participation
in the antifascist war and national liberation war. Nako Spiru talked to me about this as well.
He would participate in that conference as a representative of the
Anti-fascist
Communist Youth.
During
August, Enver met several times
Myslym Peza, a well-known fighter
and patriot, who had started
the anti-fascist uprising was with his small but courageous group.
These
meetings were meant to prepare the measures for the development of the
conference. Father Myslym didn’t have any
doubts at
all and agreed that these conferences should take place in Peza.
In spite of Peza being only a few
kilometers from
Tirana, the invaders had never dared
touching that area, where, not only Myslym
Peza operated, but all the
peasantry solidly behind him.
At
these meetings, Enver and the comrades exchanged ideas about the
persons to be
invited to the conference. Myslym took it
upon
himself to notify his political migrant friend Haxhi Lleshi.
Both of them had been forced to
leave the country due to persecution by King
Zog. Through various friends they could
have sent
an invitation to participate to King Zog's
representative, Abaz Kupi. In a
similar manner, Haxhi Lleshi
notified and brought with him, the Muezzin of the Martanesh
Shrine, Mustafa Xhani,
known for his patriotic spirit. On the other hand Enver with other
comrades had
identified some of the most distinguished figures in current historical
events,
and had sent them invitations. Such persons as Mithat Frasheri,
a participant in the Flag
raising ceremony; Ndoc Coba, who
had participated at the Lushnja Congress; and other nationalists, such
as Ramazan Jarani, (an intellectual),
Skender Muco, Azis Cami (a military man) and others.
The
first ten days of September, delegates representing the Communist
Party, went
to Peza. They were, Enver
Hoxha, Ymer Dishnica,
Koco Tashko,
Ramadan Citaku, (kosovar-uncle)
as well
as Mustafa Gjinishi. The later was
invited since
he had good acquaintances with other nationalists, through his father, Adem Gjinishi, a
close friend of Myslym Peza,
and also due to the fact that Mustafa himself had escaped to Yugoslavia
during
the days when Albania was invaded. He had been working at the time with
various
nationalists. He left for Peza with the
other friends
and Nako Spiru,
who was to
represent the Albanian Anti-fascist Communist Youth.
I
went to Peza sometime around September
12th. I went
on a cart that was commonly used at the time. The driver was an
acquaintance of
ours. I was dressed simply, with a cotton dress and on my head I was
wearing a
white gauzy handkerchief, just like Tirana women would do in the
villages. The
driver dropped us off at the turn in the Peza
road,
exactly where the symbolic memorial of the warrior of Peza
now stands. There were two other members of the group, dressed like
peasants as
well. We decided to walk according to the tradition, the man would walk
ahead
and I, as a woman would follow. Since there were no cars on the road we
had to
go on foot. The road to Peza is not hilly,
though it
was full of holes and zigzagging. It was also very dusty. It was very
hot and
the heat of August was till around. There was no shade on the way to Peza where we could have taken some time to
rest; there
were just bushes and thistles, and, passing by them I couldn’t help
trying the
blackberries, as we usually did during our partisan marches. On the way
to Peza there were plenty of blueberry
trees as well,
beautiful and tasty for the hungry partisans. But we had been advised
not to
eat them because they could make you feel dizzy since you could make
wine from
them.
When
I arrived in Peza, it was lunchtime. At
that time Peza was much different from Peza
nowadays, which now has asphalted roads and squares, a cemetery and the
beautifully built monuments with colorful flowers, in memory of
martyrs. The
environment was just the same, with green valleys; here and there you
could see
the nut trees, the great-maples with their roots stretching deep into
the
ground. Around the town were softly lying hills, that created, not only
an
image of a wide horizon, but also a useful surrounding as protection of
the battle fields of many historical
events.
The
comrades took me to the house of Myslym Peza. He was sitting on a
rug. The room was full of
guests and other peasants that I didn’t know. He was told:
“Father, she is Nexhmije
Xhuglini, the delegate of the women and
youth who are
participating in the conference. She used to be a teacher, but now she
risks
capture and as a partisan.”
“Welcome, daughter!”,
said
Father Myslim and tried to get up.
Quickly
I approached and shook
hands with him, not allowing him to stand up. I did the same with
everyone.
Then I sat on the big rug, around the wall, drawing back my legs. It
was the
first time for me to meet father Myslym.
He was very
much respected by everyone, and that was made obvious from the way he
was
addressed and spoken to. Indeed, Myslm
made you respect
and have sympathy for him, not because he was called father (at the
time he was
only 40 years old), but from the authority he showed. Myslim
was tall, slim, dark complexioned and wrinkled from the sun or from the
hard
life he had had during his days of emigration. But now that he was back
in his
country, he would go from one village to the other and would eat and
sleep
anywhere he could. He was always on the move with his partisan group,
and,
because he was also a popular agitator, he tried with his simple words
and
strong logic to add members to his group and to convince the peasants
of the
necessity to fight against the invaders.
He
asked where I was from, and when I told him I was from a Dibra
background, he immediately replied:
“Oh,
we also have here Haxhi Lleshi
from Dibra, he will be happy to be
introduced to you,
do you know him?..”
“I
have heard about him”, I
said, “but I have never met him”
I
left them talking and went outside.
When
I was outside the House of Father Myslym,
I asked
where Enver was. They took me to the house where the leaders of the
party were.
In those days the relations I had with Enver were known by a limited
number of
people, this is why our meetings had an official character and this is
how we
behaved with one another during all the days of the conference.
Enver
told me that the representative, Haxhi Lleshi from Dibra, had
arrived in Peza. The next day I was
introduced to
him. During the conversations that he and Enver had had on political
and social
development in the Dibra Region, Haxhi
Lleshi had told him about the fanaticism
directed
against the women of the region. He had also expressed his belief and
confidence that much would be achieved with the emancipation of women.
This
particular issue he had also discussed with Haki Stermilli,
the writer, who had said that
there was a girl from Dibra who had been
writing to
him and whose nickname was Fire. She
had been clamoring for the day when the Albanian women would not need
to say
“If
only I were a boy!”
Enver
had in turn asked Haxhi:
”Would you like to
meet “Fire?”
The
next day, when they were together, Haxhi
was
surprised at hearing Enver calling for me and then told him:
“This
is Fire, the girl from Dibra,
her real name is Nexhmije Xhuglini”.
Haxhi
was very happy, he hugged me and started to
talk to
Enver about the patriotic origins of the Xhuglini
family. Enver was looking at me from the corner of his eye as if
wanting to say
to me
“why haven’t
you told me all this?”
I
had formed the impression that Haxhi was a
wise man
from the first time I met him. He would speak slowly but clearly. He
started to
tell us about the five main family groups of Upper and Lower Dibra, mentioning the Lleshaj, Ndreaj,
Dine, Aliaj
families and their backgrounds; some heroic and some traitors, some
living in
peace and some fighting each other.
With
a medium sized body, his attitude and the manner in which he talked, Haxhi Lleshi didn’t
give the
impression of being the well-known fighter known throughout the Dibra Region and beyond. When he came to Peza he was wounded in the leg and had to walk
with the use
of a thick stick. One of his eyes was injured as well. I never got to
know
under what circumstance these injuries had occurred. He was a gunman. I
had two
occasions to see how well he was able to use a gun and the relationship he had with
it.
The
first occasion was in Peza, during the
days that the
conference was taking place. During
one of the breaks, a proposal was made
to have a shooting competition. It was wartime. On one side of the hill
a big
white stone was placed which was to be the target. In this competition
along
with the other competitors was Abaz Kupi, who, as previously mentioned, was a
delegate at Peza Conference. Bazi of Cane had
come with his entourage of five or six people. He had an average build,
and I
can say, short and as old as Haxhi Lleshi. He was wearing a brimless cap typical of
the Kruja region and a military jacket.
The shooting started.
The first to try was Father Myslym, than
comrades of
his group. Haxhi Lleshi
also shot. All of them hit the stone, which was smashed into pieces.
Then, Abaz Kupi
shot, but it happened
that he didn’t hit the stone. I am using the phrase “it happened”
because it
can be said that Bazi wasn't able to hit
the target.
Father Muslym couldn’t help teasing him;
‘I
think your gun is becoming rusty, dear Bazi
of Cane!’”
Certainly this
kind of teasing was not
something that Abaz Kupi
wanted to hear.
I
felt like shooting too. I had never fired a gun. I had once used a
pistol, but,
in the city it was difficult to practice shooting. I took the gun and
before I
began to shoot, I was given some tips.
Such
as: “Place it well into your shoulder, look only with one eye and try
to
line-up the target and cross-hair on the rifle-sight, take a breath and
hold it
for a while…pull the trigger carefully".
I
tried to follow their suggestions and ..I shot.… stone pieces flew everywhere! I had hit
the target. I
was happy that it wasn’t an embarrassing shot, but Haxhi
Lleshi was happier than I was.
He
said very loudly:
“Well
done Dibra Girl, house of fire!”
Enver
acted as if nothing had happened and with a slight smile said only:
“Well
Done Comrade!”
Bazi of Cane got
very angry.
The
second occasion that I witnessed Haxhi Lleshi as the gunman happened many years later,
decades
after the liberation. We were taking part in the funeral of a war
veteran. At
my side was Haxhi Lleshi.
All of a sudden we heard the shots of the firing squad to honor our
friend. Haxhi, instinctively, and at an
un-imaginable speed, put
his right hand on his belt where he used to keep his pistol. I was
impressed by
his immediate reaction. This was a habit which had remained with him
since the
time of the war, when, in his youth, he suffered much from the
persecution of
King Zog’s people and his enemies both
inside and
outside the country. He often had to
defend himself from sneak attacks. All the people of his region, war
comrades
and friends, who respected him for his bravery, knew this.
The
respect he was held in was expressed in the wide participation at his
funeral
some time later. I have always had a deep respect for him, taking into
account
his background. His best qualities were demonstrated during the hard
times,
when he was blamed, imprisoned and persecuted in the most indecent way.
During
these times he remained unmoved, staying faithful to his people, to
Albania, to
his patriotic and revolutionary ideals and keeping also faithful to his
frank,
open and sincere friendship with Enver. It was a valuable friendship,
characterized by mutual respect. During the “democracy” years, many
tried to
deny this friendship existed, but they weren't successful Many others failed decades ago, when
they tried to compromise the figures of Haxhi
Lleshi and Myslym
Peza in front of Enver. They tried in
different ways and at
different times, inventing organized scenarios so that measures could
to be
taken against them and then, Enver in turn, would be charged according
to their
out of date plans. But such things didn’t take place. The friendship
between
Enver, Haxhi Lleshi
and Myslym Peza
was stable throughout
all storms and intrigues and it was a friendship of warriors, a
wonderful
friendship that is worth writing about.
Enver
had a similar friendship with father Faje Martanesh, who was killed
precisely for being a patriot
who took part actively in the National Liberation War and for being a
friend of
Enver Hoxha. I saw Father Faje Martaneshi
for the first time in Peza, but I met him
again in Labinot. Despite being called
Father (as he was head of the
Martaneshi shrine of Bektashi)
and, furthermore despite having a rather full beard, he was young, even
younger
than Enver. It was evident from his handsome face and his smiling eyes
that he
was a funny person, who liked to sing in a wonderful resounding voice.
It
served him well for the job he had in the shrine, where he sang about
life and
holy wars of imams honored by Bektashis,
such as Imam
Ali and his sons, Hasan and Hysen.
About the later, even our nightingale, Naim (Frasheri), our great star
and pride of the Albanian
nation and people, dedicated a poem to him, entitled, “Qerbelaja”.
Both
Enver and I despaired at the news that a person working for one of the
reactionary groups had assassinated Father Faja
traitorously. In the Bektashi shrine,
close to the
tomb of Naim Frasheri,
Enver and I would always be looking out for his wife and only son
(Mustafa Xhani) who now is one of
Albania's most distinguished
surgeons.
Going
back now to Peza. It was September 15th.
Apart from
those that I have mentioned, the other invitees had arrived, such as
Mr. Ndoc Coba,
Ramazan
Jarani, and, still to come were Kamber
Qafmolla, Skender
Muco and some others. Mithat
Frasheri sent Halim
Begeja, as a representative of the
nationalist youth. Enver
told the participants:
“We
will wait today and over night, but tomorrow we must open the
conference, we
can’t wait any longer”.
The
“venue” where the conference took place was in one of the usual rooms
on the
second floor of the house of Myslym Peza. It was decorated with a national flag.
Above it, was
placed the portrait of the national hero, Scanderbeg, of the old man of Vlora,
Ismail Qemali, the portrait of the immortal
representative of
the Frasheri
Brothers, Naim Frasheri,
that of the patriot from the northern
highlands, Bajram Curri, the
portrait of Luigj Gurakuqi and
that of the young revolutionary Avni Rustemi. The tables were
arranged in a longish “U”
shape and were covered with a red tablecloth. On both windows of the
room,
there hung hand made white curtains according the tradition of the
time.
Dawn
arrived; it was September 16th.
This
date would enter Albanian history as the famous day on which the Anti-fascist National Liberation Front
was founded. We were all very emotional. The situation was very much
influenced
by the atmosphere created by the partisans and the people who were very
aware
of the significance of this conference. They accompanied us and
surrounded us
as we were going up the stairs of the house. They were just as
emotional as we
were. Some of the people were invited inside and stood observing the
procedures. Among those persons were some of the escorts of the
delegates or
some intellectuals working in Peza,
persons such as
Mustafa Kacaci, Kristo Themelko,
Sali Verdha
and others. There were
a few chairs available, placed next to
the walls, for some of them to sit down. Some people even posed as
participants
at the Peza conference even though they
were not!
There were only 17 delegates and their names were well known.
With
regard to the seating arrangements for the conference; there was no
specified
protocol, people could sit next to whomsoever they wished. Based upon
this
arrangement the seating of the delegates was as follows: Father
Myslym, as owner of the house sat
next to Ndoc Coba, the
eldest delegate. On his other side was Haxhi Lleshi and then
Father Faja. Next to Ndoc
Coba sat Abaz Kupi,
whereas, along the corner tables by the windows sat Ramazan
Jarani, Halim Begeja, Mustafa Gjinishi
and Koco Tashko.
On the opposite side of the main table sat Enver Hoxha and other comrades of the delegation of the
Albanian
Communist Party. Enver had in front of him a large bag, out of
which he
took some files and documents. At his side there was Ymer Dishinica, whilst on the other side of
the table, next to Father Faja sat Ramadan Citaku, Nako Spiru and
myself having
on my other side Ymer Dishnica. This completed the
circle.
Myslym Peza
welcomed all the delegates to Peza.
Then the floor was given to Enver Hoxha, who was head of the delegation
of the
Albanian Communist Party, who were the initiators of the conference.
Enver
thanked the delegates for their participation and proposed that the
meeting be
chaired by the eldest of the meeting, Ndoc
Coba, and noting his participation and role
in the Lushnja Congress and the government
that emerged from it.
This proposal was approved unanimously and Ndoc
Coba became the chair of the Conference. He
expressed his
gratitude for the honor being given him. He said a few words about our
responsibilities to the Albanian people. There was then a moment of
silence for
the martyrs of the Antifascist National Liberation War. I don’t
remember who
was given the task of keeping the minutes as secretary of the
Conference.
During
these past fifty-five years I have written several times about the Peza Conference in the press and have spoken
about it on
TV.
But
here I will simply dwell on some extracts taken from the minutes that I
kept
during the conference; a photocopy of these minutes was given as a
present to
me sometime ago. I reproduce the notes as they were spoken and
presented.
In
the agenda there was included the following items:
1.
Political situation (internal and external)
2.
National Liberation Councils
3.
Presentation from the youth
4.
Council (commission) that would compile the resolution of the
conference
It
seems that the schedule had been drafted by the leadership of the
Communist
Party in advance: the presentation on the actual situation by Ymer Dishnica, the
presentation
on the National Liberation Councils by Enver Hoxha and the presentation
on the
Youth Organization by Nako Spiru.
Actually, all of these presentations were made although not in the
order as
mentioned in the agenda, because, from what can be read in the minutes,
the
meeting started with declarations and interferences from the
nationalists. It
should be noted that in the beginning, the representatives of the
different
nationalist trends were very optimistic and enthusiastic due to the way
in
which they were received and honored. They also were decided on
unification
“glorifying” the communist war and showing themselves as being
“objective”
regarding the future of Albania even if the people decided to choose
communism.
This
was a facade and their hidden aims were quite different. Their strategy (if it can
be said that they had one) and their approach was: “to get closer to
the
communists, in order to take the initiative and be leaders of the
National
Liberation War, so that it could be developed in the direction we want
it to go
rather than in the way the communists would like it to go”.
It
can be said that the Peza Conference was
convened at
the beginning of the armed struggle. Although the Party was then, less
than a
year old, it had already achieved the leadership and had successfully
directed
the popular rebellion, the demonstrations of the Youth in all cities of
the
country, the sabotage of strategic roads and factories by workers and
had been
able to organize guerilla units and groups in the villages and
highlands. The
women of Tirana demonstrated in front of the prisons in order to impede
the
internment of their sons in fascist camps. It was at one of these
prison
demonstrations that the first Albanian mother was martyred.
After
the heroic resistance and death of Qemal Stafa, there were many
other young men from the
communist party who would die in a similar way, mouthing the words
'Communist
Party' - such as, Perlat Rexhepi, Branko
Kadia and Jordan Misja
from Shkodra; Vojo Kushi
from Tirana, Myzafer Asqeriu from Gjirokastra,
Teli Ndini from Vlora,
Misto Mame and Mihal
Duri from Tirana. After
the heroic deaths of these and other young men, the people, in pain and
in
sympathy for them would create songs about their heroism. It was due to
these
and other situations created by the war, that the nationalists were
made to sit
at the conference table of unification and negotiation. Again, as in Mukje, they came to see what they could do to
hinder the
rapid progress of the communist party and its leadership. As usual they
were
thinking about how to turn this progress to their benefit so that they
could
make history. But for them, it was too late! The people had brought
forth young
leaders such as Enver Hoxha, Myslym Peza, Haxhi lleshi,
Qemal Stafa, Vojo Kushi and
others, who did
not fear to die for their beliefs.
But
let us now continue with the minutes of
the conference:
“The
floor was given to the nationalist delegates R. J. (meaning Ramazan Jarani - my notes - N.H) The Albanian
people have to confront a powerful enemy. The Albanian nation was and
is poor
and has now been subdued with no one to support it. The weapon to be
used
against the enemy is the unification of the Albanian people. We want
this
conference to be a decisive one for the Albanian people, just as it was
at the Lushnja Conference.
This
is our thesis, which does not contradict the activities of the
communists.
There is a necessity to unify our youth and establish a committee of
“National
Protection”. There is no beginning of the revolution,
we are living in a revolution.
The
floor is given to the delegate Coba,
with regard to internal unification. (this
speech should have been prepared before hand, because I
haven’t taken any notes. I have done the same in the cases of the
representatives’ presentations made by the delegates of the Communist
Party,
Communist Youth etc. (My notes - N.H.)
The
political presentation by the Communist Party delegate is read by Dr Ymer Dishnica (my
notes – N.H.)
The
floor is given to the delegate of the Communist Party, K.T. (Koco Tashko).
The
floor is given to the delegate Coba. . . . The unification associated with the Durres Congress, shook the foundations of the
government of
that time. We should take into consideration one thing: “National
Unification”.
I respect the opinions of everyone, but above all those that call for “National
Unification”.
The
floor is given to the representative from the Nationalist Youth (Halim Begeja.
Actually he was the
person sent by Mithat Frasheri
to find out about the questions discussed and decided upon at the
conference. (My notes - N.H.)
He
underlined the need for remarks regarding the political situation,
which are
followed with admiration:
“We
confirm that, compared with the communist party's activities, our
activities
are nonsense. Up to this date, we may not have done anything but, from
now on
we will be ready to sabotage and clean up the government wherever the
council
decides. We are trying to establish a government of the people. Some
may say
that communism will come. If communism takes over the world, there is
nothing
that nationalists can do even if they get the shotguns to fight against
it.
Nationalism cannot be hindered by communism. If the people choose
communism we
will respect their choice. He emphasizes the future of the people and
deals with
the necessity of a democratic republic with modern social features,
according
to the long tradition of our people.
Afterwards,
he speaks of the struggle and the assemblies of Scanderbeg,
calling him
“the old man of
princes’ gatherings”. He emphasizes that in
the Canon of Lek Dukagjini,
it can be clearly seen that, the Albanian people have had their own
democratic
form of organization rather than one that had been copied. In those
days the
Albanian people didn’t really know what a republic was, but they had
this wish
and they were moving towards a democratic republic with modern social
features.
The
delegate of the nationalist youth, after making a pathetic call,
inviting the
Albanian people, under the shadow of their Albanian flag, to take up
arms
against the fascist invaders … closed his speech with a strange
proposal:
‘We
are of the opinion that the age group between sixteen and seventeen
should not
be involved in dangerous actions, because it is in this age group that
we see
the future of Albania. It is a revolutionary time we are living in, and
we are
destined to enter this war, but, concerning those young persons sixteen
and
seventeen, they aren’t
able to control their thoughts and decisions.’
This
was the concept of the responsibilities of the Youth!
The
question of the post war regime to be established in Albania was also
tackled
during the conference.
One
of the representatives was of the opinion to have a democratic republic
as a
form of regime. The representatives of the communist party, arguing
that such a
slogan couldn’t serve for the unification of everyone to the war,
rejected this
theory.
They
said: “On the form of any regime, it will be the people who decide”.
Abaz Kupi felt
good with this and stated:
“I
first of all support Albania and then King Zog.
If
the people don’t want him we ca settle it.”
Kosova
and Cameria questions were also touched
upon during
this conference.
The
nationalist delegate, Halim Begeja,
in his speech, stated:
“The
Albanian Nationalists want to start up negotiations about Kosova.
For us Kosova used to be, and still is
enslaved. It
is in a poor state. If yesterday, it was Yugoslavia governing Kosova with its own laws, today it is Germany
spreading its
horrific propaganda. The politics of such wolves, and it is with regret
I say
these words, has triumphed in certain places in Kosova.
Therefore we beseech the National Liberation Council to take measures
to
promote national education in Kosova, in
order to
teach our Kosovar brothers what the enemy
is
submitting it to with this systematic war.”
Ramadan
Citaku, the Kosovar,
also
spoke on this issue saying: war is not made through decrees. Everything
requires preparation and careful planning (it was typical of uncle Citaku’s character to speak slowly and
confidently; he would
take everything in a relaxed and easy manner - My notes, N.H)
Nako
Spiro also spoke with regard to the Kosova
issue. He
mentioned the situation of Kosova and
emphasized that
the issue
“Will
be solved on the basis of the
Anglo-Soviet Treaty and also through Kosova
fighting for itself too ”.
After
such statements and discussions and after a break; in the minutes it
has been
written that: Comrade Taras'
presentation on national liberation councils was
read. This presentation has been lost. Regarding its content, comrade
Enver has
written about it in his memoirs and historical notebooks entitled
“Laying the
Foundations of the New Albania”.
I
will only mention some parts of Enver’s
speech, which
caused active reactions among the nationalist delegates.
Apparently,
the nationalists were thinking that, in order to achieve a unified and
organized Antifascist National Liberation Front, the Communist Party
would
withdraw from its positions it held from the outset and during the war
that it
was undertaking.
But
Enver Hoxha emphasized in his presentation that:
”In
order to gain the liberation of the people and the homeland, it was
necessary
for the people to participate in the Albanian Communist Party's war.
The key
factor was that they would
lead the people, who were resisting and fighting.…” He
proceeded:
“Ours is a war of National Liberation, which has as its objective the
full
liberation of the homeland and the establishment of a democratic
government,
whose form will be decided upon by the people themselves, after the
liberation.
Therefore our war will be both a political and military one. In order
for us to
achieve these two crucial aims, the National Liberation Antifascist
Front,
which will have its national liberation councils throughout the country
along with
partisan bands, fighting under the national flag of Scanderbeg
and Ismail Qemali.
The
partisans will have a red star in their hats…these partisan bands are
the armed
forces of the National Liberation Front. Later they will develop into
larger
units and their main Headquarters will be established”.
I
am not continuing further, since here are found all elements disliked
by the
nationalist comrades and which initiated a hot debate.
The
first to respond was Ramazan Jarani
who said:
“The
word Party doesn’t sound correct to the ear. Today as sons of these
people, the
unification activities should be disciplined and not have differing
tendencies.
Let the people have power…Mr. Jarani
opposes the word
Partisan, and the national youth delegate, supports his opinion. He
stresses
that it is necessary to omit that name so that the enemy doesn’t have
the
weapons to fight against us”. Similarly, they opposed the partisan
star, too.
Both
Myslym Peza
and Haxhi Lleshi
insisted that both
the name partisan and the star be retained.
The
idea that Enver had proposed with regard to the creation of the Main
Headquarters was also debated. The headquarters are related to the army
and the
army smells like black powder:
“The
nationalist fathers agreed to having
conventions and
councils so that these matters could be further discussed and
negotiated so
that compromises could be reached. What about the headquarters?
Partisan bands;
these are dangerous. They require bravery and self-denial.
The
then delegate from the Lushnja Congress
said:
“Concerning
what the previous comrade said about the headquarters, this idea seems
to me to
have been copied from some other country. He proposes that” initially
the
councils will be established and will be provided with competent
persons to
arrange different matters”.
Ismail Petrela
interjected:
“Without
a solidified approach we cannot start the rebellion”.
Ramazan
Jarani adds:
”Fascism
fights under the mask of nationalism, therefore we should maintain it
too…”
Comrade
Taras then said:
“The
war is not undertaken with us wearing masks. The real nationalists
should tear
their masks off (to fascism) and, with their guns, join the fighting.
The war
will create the headquarters. The councils will be temporary ones and
will
demonstrate through their work, if they are members of the National
Liberation
War”.
With
all the debates and the reactions, it remains a fact that the
nationalists
approved, without essential remarks, the resolution presented by the
delegation
of the communist party, read by me. Even the delegates who joined in
when the
workings of the conference had been considered closed, such as Skender Muco and Azis Cami, after
the reading of
the resolution and the acknowledgement of the decisions of the
Conference,
agreed with them and expressed their regret at not arriving earlier.
The
nationalists were pleased with the elections too, because the communist
party
preserved a reasonable balance for the time being, between the
nationalists and
communist forces. Seven people were elected to the Council; from the
nationalist parties, elected were, Abaz Kupi, Ndoc Coba
and Kamber Qafmolla
(the
later was elected in his absence and he was appointed head of the
Council).
From the communist party, Enver Hoxha, Ymer
Dishnica and Mustafa Gjinishi
were elected. Also elected, as a member, was the distinguished patriot
and
fighter, Myslym Peza.
As
we shall see, the nationalists accepted this approach and approved the
decisions of the Peza Conference regarding
the
creation and unification of a National Liberation Antifascist Front in
order
not to loose credit with the people, who were fighting against the
fascist
invader. In the meantime they began lobbying feverishly for the
organization of
their parties, such as the National
Front, that represented the anti-king-Zogists,
republicans etc, headed by Mithat Frasheri. Legaliteti, their next party, as
the word itself implies,
gathered Pro-Zogists and other rightist
forces and
was led by Abaz Kupi.
Also,
Skender Muco
created the Social-Democratic Party composed of some
intellectuals. The chairperson of the Peza
Conference
was frightened so he joined Legaliteti and
collaborated with the invaders and their followers. Qafmolla
never appeared at the meetings of the council. The communist party was
not to
be blamed.
Our
national anthem clearly expresses that:” traitors are those ones
backing out of
the war”
The
communist party continued its war and collaborated perfectly well with
all of
those patriots who didn’t fear confrontation with the enemy and who
were
willing to give their own lives for the sake of their people and
homeland. Such
are the famous popular heroes: Myslym Peza, Haxhi Lleshi
and thousands of others who were imprisoned, tortured, sent to
concentration
camps or died in battle.
Even
today, fifty-five years later, the rightist nationalist forces, the
National
Front, Legaliteti, etc., take a duel
position with
regard to the Peza Conference. Do they
accept or
reject it? They can’t reject it since it was a great historical action
along
the tradition of the Scanderbeg’s
Assemblies, the
Renaissance etc., such a pluralist Assembly with participants without
religious, regional or ideological affiliations. But what can we do
about the
fact that they don’t like to remember and accept that it was the
Communist
Party of Albania that had called and supported this Conference?
Chapter 8: The First National
Conference of the Albanian Communist
Party: Enver Elected Secretary General
In
October or November 1942, an Activity of the Party for Tirana was
organized. Gogo
Nushi was
elected as the political secretary for this meeting. This was because
Enver was
leaving Tirana to go to Labinot, in Elbasan, in order to prepare the Central
Committee meeting
and the first local Conference of the Communist Party. The party
leaders had
been informed that very soon, a delegate from the Yugoslavian
Democratic Party, bringing directives from the Comintern would
be coming to Albania.
Both
Enver and I had had false identification cards prepared. Enver's
was required so that he could move freely from one city to another,
whereas
mine was so that I would be able to participate at the Central
Committee
meeting of the Party. I was to replace the political secretary of the Communist Youth, Nako Spiro, who, soon after the Peza Conference,
while on his way to Durres, had been
captured and
arrested. He was freed some three or four months later due to the
intervention
of his well-known merchant father.
On
our false identity cards Enver and I had the same family name - Hysi. My name
was Vera Hysi.
I don't remember what name Enver took, and he didn't remember either,
since,
during the war, he used many false names in order to avoid capture by
the
fascists and their spies.
The
two of us posed as brother and sister, and left in a small "mille
cento" car that belonged to an anti-fascist merchant friend of ours. We
knew that on the way to Labinot we would
have to pass
through many enemy roadblocks. Looking back on this trip, it was very
risky and
we put our lives in danger. However, we can now laugh about it. If
there had
been a thorough search made of our pockets and bags or even under the
car
seats, they would have found an arsenal of pistols, grenades and
ammunition.
Today,
when I think about this particular day, I have to laugh. Enver was all
dressed
up, wearing dark black sunglasses and carrying a briefcase, while I was
dressed
like an elegant "signorina" (young
lady, Italian in the original) with a hat and dark sunglasses. When we
approached the Tirana road block on Elbasani
Street,
the armed guard stopped us by a large bunker. He came to the car window
and
bent down to look inside the car. I laid my head on Enver's
shoulder pretending to be car-sick. Purposely, I had placed an Italian
fashion
magazine on my lap and was skimming through it. Out of the corner of my
eye I
was watching Enver. I was surprised at how calm he seemed. He kept one
of his
hands in his pocket on his gun, just in case the guard asked about our
papers.
We gave our "passports" to our driver in order for him to hand to the
guard. Our driver being very young and very lively, just like almost
all
drivers are, gave the Italian guard our papers along with a bottle of
grappa,
saying to him: “ Ehi,
amico, questo
e’ per te!” (Hey friend this is for
you!).This worked out just
fine!
The
guard took a cursory look at the documents but without any hesitation
accepted
the bottle of grappa and, winking at the driver, waved us on our way.
As soon
as the car had moved off, I felt more relaxed and took several deep
breaths to
release some of the pent-up tension. I recovered my wits finally since
we had
escaped without incident. In truth, I was more concerned about Enver.
In
December, the delegate from the Yugoslav Communist Party, Blazho Iovanovic, a member of the Central
Committee and a main leader in Montenegro, came to Labinot.
He was accompanied by a military man named Vojo......, who had come in
order to share his experiences regarding partisan warfare; as if we
were
lacking in this!. Through the course of
Albanian
history, Albanian rebels had shared their knowledge with the fathers
and
grandfathers of such as this Vojo. Blazho Iovanovic
entered into
preliminary negotiations with Miladin Popovic and Dushan Mugasha, who also had both come to Labinot;
one from Tirana, and the other from Vlora.
Blazho spent much time talking with Enver.
In December
1942, the Provisionary Central Committee
of the Party was convened in a small hut in Shmilo,
near Labinot, Elbasan
province. I also participated in this meeting as a representative of
the Central Committee of the Youth Organization.
We had a photograph taken in front of the hut at Shmili,
which has been printed in publications several times.
I
don't remember why, at such a meeting, some of the members of the
Provisional
Central Committee were not present. There were well known members from
the
Central Committee and attendees from the Communist Party foundation
meeting,
such as Tuk Jakova and Ramadan Citaku, but
not Koci Xoxe,
not even Kristo Themelko. Vasil Shanto and Gjin
Marku were in attendance but Ymer Dishnica and Liri Gega,
who, at the time had been engaged as members of the Provisionary
Central
Committee, were absent.
At
the First Local Conference of the Albanian Communist Party that took
place in Labinot in March 1943, I also
participated as a member of
the Central Committee of the Albanian Communist Youth and as a delegate
elected
by the active Tirana Party. I will not dwell on each of the separate
working
sessions of the conference, which are already well known and which have
been
documented thoroughly in the History of the Communist Party and also in
the
Editions of Enver’s memoirs.
But
I would like to make a comment about what happened to us with Tito's delegate, Blazho
Iovanovic.
When
the floor was given to Blazho Iovanovic
and he spoke about the assistance provided by the Yugoslavian Communist
party,
he added:
”The
Albanian Communist Party was founded by 2 communists from Yugoslavia”.
The
allusion was clear enough; he meant Miladin
Popovic and Dushan Mugosha.
This rang a warning bell in our ears. At that
moment, I could see Enver’s nervous
reaction of open
dissatisfaction. Immediately
after Blazho had spoken, the floor was
given to Miladin Popovic,
who among
others, without making direct reference to Blazho,
dotted the “I’s” and crossed the “T’s”:
”Nobody
should think”, said he, “That the Albanian Communist Party has been
founded by
we two delegates from the Yugoslavian Communist Party. No, the truth is
that
the Albanian Communist Party was created by you, the Albanian
communists and,
if we really have to mention my role or anyone
else’s external role, this role is nothing but, what in sister
parties
relations is defined as fraternal international support. Your Communist
Party
would have been created just the same, with or without us here”.
During
the break one could hear that a hot debate was going on between Enver
and Blazho in one of the rooms of the
house of Sami Baholli,
where the plenary sessions were taking place. Miladin
was also involved in this debate along with a few others whose names I
don't
remember. In this debate, Enver was explaining to Blazho,
how our Party had been established and, also made him aware that what
he had
said in the conference , was exactly what
the
nationalist reactionaries were confronting the Communist
Party with. During this break, we delegates
commented on the awkward statement made by Blazho.
That statement would, later, for many decades to come, form the
justification
for the underhand motives of the Titoites
and their
agents within our Party.
The
other issue that I want to emphasize is that this conference
was one of
the most important meetings of the Party during the war at the national
level.
Despite the political and military character of the historical
decisions that
were made at this conference, from one point of view, it had the
role and
dimensions of a First Party Congress, as it was organized with
appointees
from grass-roots organizations and Party regional conferences. It
elected the
new Central Committee of the Party, which was no longer a provisional
one,
consisting of some fifteen members and five candidates. Out of this
committee
emerged the secretariat and the Politburo.
Enver Hoxha was unanimously elected Secretary General.
I
would like to make a note here, that the election of Enver to this
position was
not a casual thing. Furthermore, when the choice was to be made during
wartime,
individual names were not submitted. The choice was based upon the
characteristics of the person. Enver's personal revolutionary activity before and during the
fifteen
months after the foundation of the Party made him the correct choice.
It
is an undeniable fact that Enver Hoxha, since the beginning of Party’s
existence, was recognized for his multilateral activities. All members
of the
provisionary Central Committee were sent to different regions of the
circuit.
Enver remained at the center since he had been elected as Secretary
General of
the regional political committee of the Party for Tirana.
‘Taras’, dressed like an electrician with
wires on his shoulders and riding a bike, was known to all the cells in
the
capital city and to all the simple people who sheltered him as the new
leader
that fascism had sentenced to death. He was known by the intellectuals of the
Communist Youth and by
anti-fascists with whom he would keep close and regular relations.
Being at the
Center, Enver turned into the mediator for all organizations of the
Party in
the regions and for the members of the provisional Central Committee
that
operated there. With them Enver had frequent correspondence, exchanging
information and sharing experiences both inside the Party and locally.
He would
do this for all the regions and especially regarding the work in
Tirana, with
Party organizations, the Youth, and National Liberation Councils,
guerrilla
units etc. Enver would also follow attentively, everything that was
happening
in Tirana and throughout the country. Depending on the situation, he
would
define the directions and measures to be undertaken and decide the
actions to
be carried out; especially to strengthen political propaganda of the
Party, at
the central and local level. When political events subjected the people
to
further terror from the enemy – of prison, torture or death - Enver would
immediately sit down
wherever he could and write articles or pamphlets against such
injustices.
It
is a fact that Enver Hoxha was in contact and kept in correspondence
with
communist Kosovar comrades, such as Xhevdet Doda, and
more often with a comrade whose nickname was Ostrich.
Enver wrote many pamphlets and articles, which were sent
to and distributed in Kosovo.
Those who worked with Enver can testify to his rich and varied
activities some
of which are reflected in his many papers and pamphlets. These showed
very well
his political maturity, which had developed from his practical
revolutionary
activities during the people's war for liberation and his desire to see
a
better life for all Albanians.
Certainly,
Enver Hoxha did more than sharing information. In his letters addressed
to
regional comrades and colleagues in Tirana (when he was away from the
city),
there is advice, orders and directives of a political and
organizational
nature. There are also suggestions, remarks and criticisms for making
work
improvements, which clearly indicate that he was developing into an
experienced
and dedicated political leader. One can see in his reports and speeches
during
wartime, his ability to envisage and anticipate situations. With regard
to his
communications with friends; his very sociable spirit, loyalty and his
tendency
to both help and to learn from them is quite notable, as is his
seriousness and
precise assessment of problems. Because of these characteristics, he
was openly
critical of any mistakes that were made. He held this critical, but
benevolent
attitude not only with his comrades, but also with me. I will follow
this line
with my thoughts written down below.
I
have mentioned all of this in order to say that, Enver's
election as Secretary General at the first National Conference of the
Albanian
Communist Party was the logical result of his leading role in the
provisional
Central Committee, and his real leadership merits. It is due to his
efforts to unite
all the communist groups, that he presented the motion at the
meeting of
November 8th, 1941, to found the Albanian Communist Party. Compared to
other
members of the Provisional Central Committee, Enver Hoxha is considered
to be
the founder of the Party.
National
Conference of the Albanian Communist Youth
After
the Conference of the Party, at which many problems were tackled, all
the
delegates were divided into regional and fighting units. We, members of
the
Central Committee for the Communist Youth, also started preparations
for a
meeting of the Youth Organizations at the national level, in order to
implement
the decisions taken at the First Conference of the Party.
The
National Conference of the Albanian Youth was convened in Zaloshnja,
in Skrapar from the 9th to the 13th of
June 1943. Two or three
days before the conference started, Enver left to go to Vlora,
in order help free the Korca zones. He
passed through
Zaloshnja and dropped off a letter for me.
In this he
said that before I went back to Tirana, I must go in Kucaka
to meet him, since he was staying there for a few days. He had also
passed on
greetings from the Central Committee of the Party, written and signed
by himself, for the comrades who were
taking care of the
conference preparations. He had done a similar thing for the meeting of
the
Communist Youth Foundation on November 23rd. The message was expected
in great
anticipation. However, during the break, Nako
and I
said: “if Enver were here he would be embarrassed”. During the opening
ceremonies of the conference, an unforeseen incident happened which
caused us
much amusement. It was proposed that we sing “The International”.
We
were on our feet but no one was taking the role as leader of the choir.
The
problem with this was that no one was able to remember the beginning of
the
tune! One by one, we would try to start but were unable to remember the
tune!
There arose much laughter and the climax was reached when Xheko (Ramadan Xhangolli) raised his voice and
very seriously started to sing the anthem composed during the time of
King Zog: “Just like thunder from the
sky…” No one could
stop from laughing. Nako observed that it
was
impossible to continue like this and shouted out loudly:” A break of
fifteen
minutes!”
We
all went outside. The weather was very nice. I remember that a fresh
wind was
blowing from the mountains. Being young; we had the unexpected
opportunity to
have a bit of a laugh. This was nothing to be ashamed or to be
surprised about.
We
returned to the conference room and started the meeting with the
National
Anthem, known by everyone this time and we sat down to seriously
discuss the
strengthening of the organization and the extension of participation of
the
youth in the National Liberation Antifascist War. We had in front of us
some
very important tasks to be carried out. Before returning to Tirana, I
left for Kucaka. On the way there I met
the wonderful people from Skrapari;
patriots, hospitable and brave Skrapari
people. I hold beautiful and unforgettable
memories of distinguished patriots such as Pasho
Hysi and Hysen
Zaloshnja, whom I met again during the war
at historical meetings
in such places as Labinot, Permet
and later in Tirana, at the meetings of the People’s Assembly or those
of the
Democratic front. There I got to know the active and fighting sons of
the
former, the names of their families and other families too, such as Karaman Ylli, Zylyftar
Veleshnja etc.
I
can safely say that: “In Skrapar, every
house was a
house of fire” and it remained so, even during the most difficult times
in
Albania.
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