Liri Gero and the 68 Girls of Fier

Liri Gero - Tirana Art Gallery

Liri Gero – Tirana Art Gallery

More on Albania …..

Liri Gero and the 68 Girls of Fier

Many monuments, statues and lapidars from Albania’s Socialist period have suffered over the years, through outright political vandalism or just neglect. However, there has been a bit of a sea change in recent years but this has not come without its own problems. Here I want to develop the ideas of Albanian Socialist Realist art by looking at two works produced to commemorate the life of a young partisan woman, Liri Gero, and also a work in commemoration of 68 young women who also left their home town of Fier to join the partisans fighting the Fascist invaders.

Liri Gero

Liri Gero

The first thing to know about Liri is the meaning of her name. Liri means Freedom, indicating her parents were at least nationalist, if not much further to the left, and possibly supporting the growing communist movement at the time of her birth. In a country that had a long history of fighting foreign invaders naming your children in such a way was making a political statement.

Soon after the country was invaded by the Italian Fascists in April of 1939 Liri, along with many other young people, started to take part in activities that opposed the occupation and assisted those actively fighting against the invaders, especially after the declaration of the National Liberation Front at the Conference of Peza of 1942.

However, as the struggle became more intense, and the betrayal by the collaborators and sycophants of the ‘nationalist’ Balli Kombetar (who were formed in November 1942 to cause confusion – the name literary means ‘national front’ – amongst the Albanian anti-Fascist masses) became a much more real threat, it was suggested that Liri leave her home town of Fier and join the partisans in the mountains, in the fighting war.

In any guerrilla war the struggle in the owns and cities occupied by the invaders is as important as that on the front line but when such activity ceases to be practical, or too dangerous for particular individuals, then the only way forward is to leave home and join the partisan army. Liri was one of many young women of her generation who did just that. Disguised as the bride in a wedding party she was able to leave Fier, which was then under the under the control of the Italians, in 1943.

Partisan çeta

Partisan çeta

In October 1944 Liri was part of a unit that attacked a German Nazi column in the vicinity of Fier. Although the partisans inflicted severe damage on the Nazis in this attack Liri was wounded and later captured. With just a matter of weeks before their final defeat (and when the war throughout Europe was going badly for the Germans, especially on the Eastern Front where the Red Army was moving ever closer to the German capital) the Nazis first tortured the 20-year-old and then poured petrol over her and burned her alive – and the reactionaries have established a Nazi war memorial in Tirana.

In volume 2 of ‘Flasin Heronj të Luftës Nacional-Çlirimtare (‘The Heroes of the National Liberation War Speak’) the collection that recounts the stories of many of those who gave their lives in the struggle against Fascism, her dedication, torture and death is described poetically:

‘When you go to the Cemetery (in Fier), under the name of Liri Gero you may think lie the remains of her beautiful young body, but this is not the case. It’s just a handful of ashes from her heart burned for the freedom of Albania.’

Being so young when she got involved in the anti-fascist struggle, and her equally premature death, she became a prime candidate to be singled out and immortalised in bronze during Albania’s Cultural Revolution. She would stand as an example to the young and it would also play a part in commemorating, celebrating and emphasising the role of women in Albania’s Socialist construction, in the past, present and future.

The sculptor chosen for the task was Mumtaz Dhrami, the sculptor who produced so many fine works during this period of artistic development in Albania’s Socialist period, including the monuments at Peze and the magnificent Arch of Drashovice.

(When I first published this post on the 29th October I mistakenly attributed this piece of work to another sculptor, Hektor Dule. These mistakes, unfortunately, will happen from time to time due to the difficulty of obtaining some of the basic factual information.

However, when I started to revise the text to show the facts I realised that this is all part of the different approaches to art in a socialist and capitalist society. Under capitalism the first question is who. Who produced it, as if that person is someone famous then the piece of art might be worth money, and with recent ‘investment’ in art a great deal of money. It’s for this reason a signed sketch on a paper serviette is worth a fortune just because the signature of Pablo Picasso is in the corner. It becomes valuable not because of its intrinsic artistic value but because of its association.

In Socialist Realism the most pressing question is what. What does it represent, what is it trying to convey, what does it mean to the people who see and relate to it, what role can the artistic object play in educating the people. And as those were the most important questions asked in a society attempting to build Socialism the artist as an individual became secondary. For that reason many of the lapidars and monuments in Albania don’t have any indication of who actually provided the artistic skill.

As we live in a world where individuals are praised way above the collective this creates a situation where some ‘artists’ consider that they are being hard done by, in comparison with ‘artists’ in capitalist countries. For this reason they start to grumble and for the same reason some have run away to the capitalist countries, not to have more freedom to express their art, not for the fame, but for the financial reward that they can receive in a different society from the one that nurtured, educated and trained them.

By being somewhat obsessed with getting the details of who might have created any particular piece of art I am also falling into the trap of bourgeois individualism. I find myself reluctant to post an article if it omits such information as it might appear incomplete. But that’s not the meaning of Socialist Realist art – it’s the message not the messenger.

In discussions about art many years ago, when Britain actually produced things rather than being a nation serving countless variations of coffee, it came up that those skilled engineers, for example, who could take a piece of raw metal and with their skills and experience turn it into a part necessary functioning of a complex machine, weren’t used to signing their work. Those who worked in agriculture didn’t sign their potatoes before they sent them to market, but if we didn’t have their skills then the vast majority of the population in so-called ‘developed’ societies would starve.

So why should an artist sign his/her work? Who is the most important in society? No society can produce or develop any sophisticated art unless they first are able to create a surplus of those things that society needs. All artists, in all societies, in all stages of development of civilisation rest on the shoulders of the workers. Why should one be named if the other isn’t?

To finish on this matter, before the whole post goes along too acute a tangent, what of those workers who took Dhrami’s ideas and turned it into the bronze object under discussion. Shouldn’t their names be noted – if the ‘artist’ were to have his signature somewhere in view?)

Liri Gero - National Art Gallery

Liri Gero – National Art Gallery

The statue is slightly larger than life-size but we only have her depicted from the thighs up. She is shown dressed as a Partisan fighter, not in full uniform as such but in a manner that allows no doubt that she is a full-time member of the fighting force. The pose is as if she were standing to attention and she presents a calm demeanour, serene and confident and clear about what she is doing. She wears a cap with the star of a Communist clear at the front.

The only images I have seen of her show her with long tresses, braided on both sides of her head and hanging down in front of her. I’m sure that, as a young woman she was proud of her hair but to go into conflict with such long hair is not a wise move and I would have thought that one of the first acts after joining her partisan çeta would be to visit the barber. None of the pictures of the guerrilla groups show the women with long hair. However, by depicting her with her long tresses Dhrami has made an easy reference to the photos that people would have seen in different museums throughout the country as well as in magazines and other publications produced at the time.

So she has a full head of hair, spilling out from under her cap, and the braids hang down and finish just over her breasts. Around her neck she has a bandana (yet another symbol of her communist affiliations) and she is wearing a thick woollen sweater. There’s a rifle slung over her back and her right hand is holding the strap of that rifle just over her chest. Around her waist she has ammunition pouches attached to her belt and on her right hip hangs a Mills bomb (British made grenade).

It is what she holds in her left hand which makes this statue stand out as one created with a socialist realist perspective. Her left arm hangs loosely down by her side and in her fist she has a bunch of flowers.

Liri Gelo - flowers

Liri Gelo – flowers

This is complimentary to the rifle. Socialism cannot be built, or maintained, without the rifle (symbolising force, or at the very least the threat of force) but the ultimate aim is a society without conflict. How long that will take is still to be decided and the twists and turns along that road are abundant. This idea of flowers in the hand of a young women prepared to use violence (and, for her, ultimately, giving her life) is part of a long-held view of communists, that we fight for bread (meaning freedom from exploitation and oppression, from want and the anarchy that comes with capitalism) but we want the roses too (a fulfilling and productive cultural life in companionship with others, and not just being spoon-fed the ‘culture’ that capitalism supplies, as long as it can make profit.)

I’m not exactly sure where the statue of Liri would have originally stood. Being made of bronze it was designed to be outside (and is still in a very good physical condition). There used to be a properly organised statue park in the area around the National Art Gallery and it would make sense that it was here the work was exhibited. If on a plinth it would have been minimal, just separating the statue from the ground, allowing the viewer the opportunity of being able, physically, to relate to the young heroine and her place in history.

Its location now is with other still extant statues that have come from different parts of the Tirana area. To the right hand side of the Art Gallery there’s a ramp and a service entrance to the building. This doesn’t seem to be used on a regular basis and is not an area that is cared for. When I first visited at the end of 2011 there was a shanty type hut but that has now been removed, but the area is in no way organised or what could be called an exhibition space. The area is dirty and the statues, although out-of-the-way, are not displayed in any manner that you would expect of works of art.

What I have described as the ‘Sculpture Park’ is really just a storage area for the statues. At one time they were all in a line, Liri amongst them but by the time of my visit in 2014 a new statue of Stalin had been added to the collection and Liri was moved so that she had her back to the building and was facing the other statues.

The Original Sculpture Park

The Original Sculpture Park

Also on my early visits it was possible to get close to the statues without any hassle but a vandal attack on the Soviet produced statue of Stalin and the Albanian (damaged) Lenin, with them having red paint thrown over them in 2011, has meant that visits are discouraged. That’s a pity as, although in a far from ideal circumstance, here it is possible to get an idea of different examples of Albanian Socialist Realist sculpture as well as being able to appreciate the noticeable differences from Russian Soviet interpretations with the black statue of Stalin – presented to the Albanian people upon his death in 1953.

So that’s the Socialist representation of a young woman who gave her life for her country and people.

As stated above Liri was from the town of Fier, which in socialist times was a major industrial centre – that’s all but gone now and is a place of industrial archaeology rather than industrial production.

Although the industry might have gone there has been an effort in recent years to remember and commemorate the past. As part of that Fier is one of the few towns in Albania that has a functioning museum, very recently renovated, where you can find information about the anti-Fascist war as well as some examples of Socialist Realist paintings and sculpture.

(I’ll be writing about the Fier Historical Museum in a future post but here I will just provide information about its location. It can be found in Rruga Leon Rei, which is about 200m west of Sheshi Pavarësia (Independence Square).

Location of the Museum:

GPS:

N 40.72448

E 19.55532

DMS:

40° 43′ 28.1280” N

19° 33′ 19.1520” E

Well worth a visit. Across the road from the museum is a monstrosity of a (at least in May 2015) half-finished and stalled private educational institute.)

As part of this recovery of the past the city decided to erect a completely new statue to Liri Gero – to the best of my knowledge there had been no local monument to her, other than her grave in the Martyrs’ Cemetery. This statue was inaugurated in 2010 and is located at the edge of a small park in the centre of the town.

Whatever the intentions behind its commissioning this modern statue of Liri is a ludicrous and hideous depiction of the woman who Liri definitely wasn’t. It’s the absolute antithesis of the example to be found behind the National Art Gallery in Tirana.

It’s wrong in virtually every way. The figure is similar to the Dhrami piece in that we don’t get the whole body, this one is from the knees up and it is also a little more than life-size. That’s the only things the two statues have in common. The first thing that strikes the viewer is that you get a crick in the neck to look at it close up. The bronze statue is on a plinth more than two metres high and its impossible for the viewer to have any connection with the young woman, she’s placed on a pedestal in the literal and figurative sense.

New Liri Gero Statue

New Liri Gero Statue

When we get to the statue itself we see no connection with the actual life of young Liri. It’s in a neo-classical style and a silky dress clings to her body, emphasising the female form, her breasts straining to break free of the material. A thin cord around the waist is pulled tight so that it accentuates the hour-glass figure of the torso. The dress itself is of a style that no woman, or even young girl, would have worn in pre-liberation Albania – and would draw a not too sympathetic attention today.

If her clothing is bad things get even worse when we look at her hair. The pictures of Liri show her with long hair, a style that would have been common with girls of her age at that time but here she is represented with hair of which Rapunzel herself would have been jealous. (With the wonders of the internet I’ve just had a look and you can buy Rapunzel wigs that must have been what the sculptor forced his model to wear.)

There’s so much hair!

Liri Gero - hair

Liri Gero – hair

Its crazy. This isn’t a young woman who was tortured to death after going to join forces with those wanting to free their country of foreign invaders. No, this is a young woman who’s going out on the town, has been to the supermarket for a bottle of cheap vodka and now intends to dance until dawn, as happens in many British towns and cities.

Whereas the Dhrami Liri is serene, confident, sure of herself the 2010 Liri is flighty, frivolous, would fit into the stereotype of a ‘dippy blond’ (Liri was dark-haired) and wouldn’t know how to spell Fascism let alone have the understanding to fight against it.

I don’t know why such a statue was commissioned by the Fier Bashkia (Town Hall) or what they were thinking about in paying for such a representation of one of the towns most famous daughters. It was good that the town wanted to have their own statue to her but did it have to be so alien to the actual woman herself?

To the best of my knowledge those who are responsible for this monstrosity are the ‘artists’ Haxhiu Kalluci, I Kasem and A Shuraj. How they divided up the work I don’t know but I would have thought that one, at least, would have to have concentrated on the hair – it’s a sculpture in its own right.

The best thing about the monument is the inscription on the front of the plinth.

We have the words:

Liri Gero

1924 – 1944

Heroine e Popullit = People’s Heroine

And a short inscription which reads:

Si flutura drejt drites shkon njeriu drejt lirise

This translate as:

‘As moths are drawn to the light so man is to freedom.’

Across the road is a monument to other brave Fier women. Obviously very well organised, in a town that was occupied by the Fascist invaders, on the 14th September 1943, under the cover of darkness, 68 young women and girls left to join the Partisans. Not only was the actual leaving of the town a dangerous activity they then spent the next few days walking all the way to Berat to join up with the increasingly more powerful and organised Communist led National Liberation fighters.

This quite exceptional (not just in Albania but other parts of Europe fighting against the Fascists) decision of such young women to take the path of the greatest resistance was celebrated in Fier with the commissioning of this simple but nonetheless effective sculpture. The plinth upon which it stands at present is new although the bronze bas-relief fixed to it has all the classic hallmarks of those sculptures produced during Albania’s Cultural Revolution.

Monument to 68 girls joining Partisans

Monument to 68 girls joining Partisans

As is normally the case there is no name or date on the sculpture itself so I have no idea who was the artist or exactly when it was inaugurated. As many of the sculptures of this period were commissioned to mark specific anniversaries I would hazard a guess that it was first shown to the public on the occasion of the 30th anniversary of the women leaving the town, i.e., 1973.

Neither do I know if it is in the original location or whether it has been moved from somewhere else. (So many lacunae in the history of Albanian lapidars!) Although it does seem to fit where it is now the bas-relief design suggests that it might have been high up on a wall of a building such as the Bashkia – although that’s just speculation on my part.

What can be stated categorically is that it is in a very good condition. It hasn’t undergone any vandalism and the target of the reactionaries, the stars on the flag and the Partisan’s cap, are both intact and undamaged.

The monument consists of one female partisan depicted as if she is emerging from the national flag. The flag is fluttering in the wind and at the extreme left hand side, at the top, can be made out the double-headed eagle with the Communist star above the two heads.

The tips of her fingers of the right hand just brush against the eagle’s feathers as if this is what she is seeking to attain. She’s fighting for Socialism, for a future. Her whole stance is one of going forward, striving for something higher, reaching up to the stars. But to attain that goal she needs to use force, as such aims have never been attained without the use of arms. For that reason she holds a rifle in her left hand, gripping it just in front of the bolt.

Carved into the wooden stock of the rifle are the letters VFLP, signifying “Vdekje Fashizmit – Liri Popullit!” (“Death to Fascism – Freedom to the People!”). This has been seen on a few lapidars previously described, such as Heroic Peza, the Peza War Memorial and the Arch of Drashovice. This tradition of writing slogans on weapons was begun in the 19th century during nationalist struggles and was adopted by the National Liberation fighters in WWII. As well as other imagery, these letters on her weapon declare that she is a Communist Party member.

The young woman is shown in a semi profile and, as I have already said, she emerges from the folds of the flag so we really only see the top half of her body. She’s wearing a thick woollen sweater and around her neck she has what would have been a red bandana, together with the star on her cap a signifier of her political allegiance to the Communist cause. A full head of shoulder length hair pushes out from under her cap.

The bottom half of the bronze statue is fixed to a concrete block faced with slabs of red marble. The top half of the statue extends above the block creating the idea of the free-flowing of the flag and gives the impression that the young woman is almost flying, taking off from the block.

There are two inscriptions on the modern pedestal, on the front:

14 shtator 1943 68 vajza Fierake dolen partizane

‘On 14th September 1943 68 girls from Fier blossomed into Partisans’.

On the back:

Lule, yje për lirinë krenari për Shqipërinë

Flowers, stars for freedom, the pride of Albania

There are certain similarities to the work of Hektor Dule of the female figure which is in what used to be the National Assembly Hall in Tirana – the fluttering material, the figure seeming to emerge from, as well as being a part of, the national flag, together with the determination on the face of the woman.

Although separated by a road and barely 10 metres there’s a world of difference between this depiction of a female partisan and the travesty that is the new statue of young Liri Gero.

This close proximity of two different ideologies, two different world views, as depicted in art helps to understand both. The new Liri statue is populist in place of being popular, in the sense of presenting an image to which ordinary people can relate. It represents the young women as young women see themselves in today’s Albania, not concerned with their own national identity but aiming to ape the banalities of capitalist culture. In a sense it’s the result of the ‘celebrity culture’, the facile, the emptiness of present existence where individuals become famous for being famous, not for anything significant they might have achieved.

The new is brash, vulgar, noisy – it screams at you. But it has nothing to say.

The old is serene, dignified, full of symbolism and meaning.

I read an article where a near-contemporary of Liri and the other young women bemoans the fact that the young people of Fier today don’t know the story of what happened during the occupation. Not only do that not know they don’t want to know. They are so caught up in the accumulation of consumer goods, the search for the ‘good life’, that they don’t know where they got to where they are now. But neo-liberalism doesn’t want people to remember the past, if they did they might want to change the future. Already the crash of 2008 is being forgotten – to be remembered when the next one comes along. And if you can’t completely forget the past – as has been the attempts in the destruction of lapidars and statues throughout the country over the years – then you can distort history so that any meaning is taken out of the images.

If there’s a tragedy surrounding the life of young Liri Gero it’s the way that life, and its violent end, is being ‘celebrated’ in the 21st century.

Location:

About 50 metres south from Sheshi Pavarësia on Rruga Ramiz Aranitasi

GPS:

N 40.724719

E 19.557984

DMS:

40° 43′ 28.9884” N

19° 33′ 28.7424” E

Altitude:

24 m

More on Albania …..

Shoket – Comrades – Permet

Shoket - Comrades - Permet, Odhise Paskali

Shoket – Comrades – Permet

More on Albania …..

Shoket – Comrades – Permet

Shoket – Comrades – was one of the early sculptures to be placed in the Martyrs’ Cemeteries throughout Albania, a simple monolith (lapidar) being the most common form of monument. It is the work of Odhise Paskali and was inaugurated in 1964, the same time as the monument to the Permet Congress was unveiled in the main square of the town.

The role of art in a Socialist society

The important role of art in the construction of a socialist society has been a matter for discussion since the first writers started to posit the idea that society doesn’t have to be one created for the benefit of a few parasites who decide what should be the fate of the overwhelming majority of the population. However, no real conclusion was arrived at because such a question could not be answered until the concrete conditions existed when a new departure in art could flourish. That only became a practical problem to overcome once the first workers and peasants state was established in the Soviet Union following the October Revolution of 1917.

When Lenin started to consider this matter from a position of the workers holding state power, even when the outcome of the Civil War was still uncertain, this was at a time when artistic ‘isms’ abounded, mostly from the ‘left’ but, in the main, the majority of them were transient. This huge melting pot had many causes: the increasing speed of technology; the anger and disillusionment caused by the meaningless slaughter of the 1914-18 war; the search for a meaning in life in an increasingly alienating world; the victory of the proletariat in Russia; the defeats in Hungary and Germany; and a general environment that things didn’t have to be as they always had been.

However forward thinking the revolutionary the political ideology of the revolutionaries, first in the Soviet Union, then in the People’s Republic of Albania and later the People’s Republic of China, all those involved had been brought up surrounded by an ideology (economic, political, social, religious, and cultural) that was the antithesis to what they saw as the path into the future. What made the finest of those revolutionaries ‘great’ – at all levels of the Party and society – was their ability to suppress those influences from the past and to create a new set of values for the construction of a society seeking to abolish classes and all that a class based societies entailed.

It took some years and not a little experimentation but eventually the form of propaganda to be used in public art was what is now called ‘socialist realism’. It is country specific as to be effective such artistic endeavours have to have a relationship with the history and culture of the different people’s who have attempted the construction of socialism.

As with all the other major Marxist-Leninist leaders Hoxha understood, and took on board the consequences of, the famous sentence of Karl Marx from the Preface to a Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, of 1859.

‘It is not the consciousness of man that determines their being, but on the contrary it is their social being that determines their consciousness.’

Yes, the building of socialism had to mean the improvement of the material conditions of all the working population and that task began, initially, with the nationalisation of all the land and the means of production which later led to collectivisation and industrialisation of countries that were economically backward.

But for socialism to succeed and to move to a higher stage it was the thinking of the people which had to be changed. The ‘old order’ had encouraged and nurtured self-serving selfishness, individuality and a concern primarily for personal survival and enhancement and the aim was to change this mindset to one of considering the common good of all as paramount, working and thinking collectively and considering long terms goals, not only for themselves but for generations to come.

All previous social systems have had to address this issue yet it is only when peoples in different countries attempt to move away from class systems and build socialism (with communism being the ultimate goal) that this education and discussion within society is called ‘propaganda’, used in a pejorative sense. If we just take the last two thousand years of world history we have seen the rise (and fall) of slavery, feudalism, capitalism and socialism. Can anyone really argue that capitalism, for example, could have established itself if a sizeable proportion of the population were thinking in the way of slave-owners or actual slaves. Of course not. Their thinking had to adapt as otherwise the ‘new’ social system would simply remain in a rut.

If people think that capitalism doesn’t also use public art as a weapon in its cultural battle to maintain its control of people’s minds then all you have to do is study the statues and monuments that are the products of their class war in the UK – but it’s the same in all other countries. On war memorials to those who died in the world wars of the twentieth century the phrase ‘died for King and Country’ is repeated constantly. This is carved in huge letters on the Menin Gate in Ypres, Belgium. Statues to the monarchy are in every major town and city. Statues and memorials of individuals who played a role in the colonialist and imperialist expansion of Britain in the past can be found everywhere, as are statues of individual capitalists as well as those to politicians who ran and controlled the country for the benefit of feudalism and capitalism.

A society reinforces its control in many more ways, too many to go into here, but it might be worth citing a recent example in the UK. The newly elected leader of the British Labour Party, Jeremy Corbyn, was criticised for not singing the national anthem at yet another event to ‘commemorate’ a specific date in World War Two (these constant, never-ending commemorations are yet other examples of that constant cultural reinforcement of the capitalist state). So even an atheist Republican it is expected and obliged to play the game – is there a greater indication of a sycophantic and pusillanimous population than its general willingness to sing an anthem that contains the words ‘long to reign over us’?

I don’t want to labour the point. I just want to stress that ALL forms of society fight a battle to win the minds of the population, even more so in the early days. The nascent socialist societies were doing nothing different. What was different was that socialism was a society that sought to break completely with the past by doing away with oppression and exploitation of the many for the benefit of the few. That meant that the mountain communists had to climb was much steeper and more difficult than had confronted those ‘progressives’ of the past. This was new ground and hence the difference in approach and also accounts for the hostility that capitalism has had to all such efforts – remembering that this attack on any of the achievements and products of a socialist society are all part of the continual class war.

But back to Albania.

From the very first days of the People’s Republic of Albania the Party placed the development of a new, socialist culture to the fore. The Albanian Film Institute was established in 1945 and this became the Kinostudio Shqipëria e Re (New Albania Film Studio). And throughout the period of socialism Albania produced probably more film footage per head of population than any country in the world. Literature, painting and sculpture were also encouraged as was an imaginative approach to folk-lore and folk culture through music and dance. However, monumental sculpture (or ‘monumental propaganda’ as Ramiz Alia described in an article published in 1968, reprinted in ALS Vol. 1) didn’t seem to play much of a role in the early cultural revolution carried through by the new socialist state.

Lapidars and monuments in Martyrs’ Cemeteries were being created but they were simple affairs and it seems there was a trend to construct higher and higher monoliths rather than create sculptures and images to which the people could relate. Interestingly, in the same article mentioned above, Alia commented on the lack of care in the maintenance of those structures that did exist.

In fact, prior to the mid-1960s there were few monumental sculptures in the country. The first that I can find in the records is the Monument to The Partisan, in the centre of Tirana, the work of Andrea Mano, which was inaugurated in 1949. (This is in no way a socialist realist statue. It’s the same sort of statue of a soldier that can be found anywhere. It is also not one of my favourite Albanian statues, he looks too angry, but in the wrong way. Compare this partisan to the one who stands atop the monument at the sea front in Durres.) The next monuments of note to be erected were ‘Shoket – Comrades’ and ‘Monument to the Permet Congress’, both in Permet and both the work of Odhise Paskali, and the ‘Monument to Agrarian Reform’, the work of Kristaq Rama, in Krutje e Sipërme, unveiled in 1966.

Monument to The Partisan, Tirana

Monument to The Partisan, Tirana

The decision to erect the two sculptures in Permet, on the 20th anniversary of the Congress of Permet, indicates that ideas were changing. Thinking in Albania of the role that the construction of ‘monumental propaganda’ could play in the promotion of the socialist ideal seems to have developed much more quickly after the decision was taken, also in 1964, to re-locate the Tirana Martyrs’ Cemetery and to place an iconic and inspirational sculpture in the new location, replacing the simple monolith that stood over the old cemetery in Tirana Park.

On 26th October 1965, in an intervention at the end of the 15th Plenum of the Central Committee of the Party of Labour of Albania, Enver Hoxha stated:

‘The further revolutionization of the life in the country cannot be understood without the development and deepening of the ideological and cultural revolution.’

In a sense this could be considered to be the opening shots of what became recognised as Albania’s Cultural Revolution – with capital letters as this was a conscious and considered attempt to counter old ideas and promote the new, mirroring a similar decision in the People’s Republic of China. In both Albania and China this was prompted by the betrayal of the Soviet Party to the ideas of Marxism-Leninism and the revolution. Over a period of just under 20 years this was to lead to the construction of the many impressive lapidars that are found around the country to this day.

One of the reasons there weren’t that many monumental sculptors in the country prior to the late 1960s might be simply due to the fact that the socialist sculptors – meaning by that those artists who had grown up in a society constructing socialism and who had an idea of what the society was attempting to build – simply didn’t exist until that time. A look at the sculptors whose names can be associated with the socialist realist lapidars would seem to support such a proposition. If we just take the case of three of the finest (and most prolific) sculptors during the twenty year period (Kristaq Rama, Shaban Hadëri and Mumtaz Dhrami) they were all born in the late 20s or early 30s and were reaching their artistic maturity at just the right time. They were from a generation who knew what they were being asked to represent in the period of the Cultural Revolution.

(The fact that some of them turned their backs on the society that had given them an education, even to the extent of getting paid to vandalise some of their own work when the social system was different – as was the case of Agim Nebiu and his ‘modification’ of the Tirana Historical Museum Mosaic – is beside the point.)

One of the most prolific sculptors in the country prior to the war let alone prior to national liberation was Odhise Paskali. He produced works which are still to be seen today throughout the country. The earlier works include: The National Fighter in Korçe (1932); The Standard Bearer in Vlore (1932); Çerçiz Topulli in Gjirokaster, (1934); and The Kolonje Martyrs’ in Erseke, (1938) and the bust to Vojo Kushi (1949) in Tirana. However, these are all inspired by Albania’s nationalist struggle of the past.

Nonetheless, he did produce important works after liberation. Among these are: a bust of Vojo Kushi in Tirana (1949); Shoket – Comrades and The Partisan in Permet (both 1964); The Partisan Triumphant, the original now at Mauthausen, Austria – with a copy in the Armament Museum in Gjirokaster Castle (1968); The Two Heroines in Gjirokaster (1974); and the most recognisable to visitors to Tirana, the Statue of Skanderberg in the centre of the city (1968). However, these are all conventional, they are well done and some of them are very evocative, but he has not brought a lot new to the idea of public sculpture. The fact that he was honoured by the Albanian state for his contribution to the sculptural heritage of the country doesn’t change that at all.

Paskali’s work proves the case that even though works are commissioned and displayed during a period of socialism that doesn’t automatically make them examples of ‘socialist realist’ art. In the same way a piece of art produced before an era of socialism, depicting the struggle of the working class, doesn’t become ‘socialist realist’ after a revolution. This non-socialist realist status is also the fate of those works produced after the socialist state has ceased to be in existence. Perhaps the best term for those particular works would be ‘neo-socialist realist’. ‘Ersatz-socialist realist’ would be the best way to describe the stone bas-reliefs outside one of the private universities in the centre of Tirana, used in a cynical move to attain some after-the-fact credibility.

Socialist Realist art has a reason for its existence, other than art for art’s sake. It’s created for a specific purpose, under certain distinctive circumstances and has a special and unique relationship with the people for whom it was created. It commemorates goals already achieved (as in the victory over Fascism and national Liberation), landmarks in the development of the new society (as in the Monument to Agrarian Reform in Krutja) or a declaration of intent (as in ‘Our Land’ in the centre of Lushnje).

Monument to Agrarian Reform - Krutje

Monument to Agrarian Reform – Krutje

Now we come to ‘Shoket – Comrades’ in Permet Martyrs’ Cemetery.

It’s almost impossible to think that such a monument would have been installed three years later, when the atheist campaign began. The reason it wasn’t removed as part of that campaign, which effectively was in existence until 1990, is a sign of the respect that the Albanian state had for works of art produced during the socialist period which were created to commemorate those who had died in the fight for national liberation – whatever its imagery might imply.

To all intents and purposes it’s a religious piece of art. It’s the type of monument you’re more likely to see in a capitalist country where Christianity is nominally the state religion. It’s an image that abounds in many Catholic churches, on canvas, in marble or in stained glass windows. But you won’t find such an image, created in the socialist period, anywhere else in Albania. It’s atypical of Albanian lapidars, it’s unique in its imagery. And that’s important to remember.

However, being created in Socialist Albania it’s not just a copy of earlier religious images. There are three figures in this sculpture. A seriously injured fighter is on the ground and has his upper body supported by a male comrade. (The title of this sculpture is sometimes translated as ‘Friends’ but that’s totally inaccurate when dealing with Communist Partisans and the correct translation is ‘Comrades’.) The injured partisan’s shoulder rests against the thigh of his comrade, who is kneeling behind him, and his head is being support by the left hand of his helper.

The injured partisan has lost his cap and his shirt is open at the front. They are all in the uniform of the National Liberation Army and we know he is a fighter as there is an ammunition belt around his waist. The male helper is in full uniform, with a star on his cap and has a pistol in a holster attached to his belt on the left hand side. He is bent over and is looking down, sympathetically, onto the face of his fallen comrade, whose eyes are closed. It looks very much as if he is in his death throes. What makes this very different from the Christian myth of the pieta (the name given to those depictions of the moments after Christ had been taken from the cross after his death and he is being mourned by his mother and, sometimes, the Magdalen) is the presence of the rifle that is on the ground between the fallen soldier and his comrade, the top of the barrel of which is just sticking out between the two.

The other figure is a female partisan. She is also in uniform, wearing a cap with a star at the front but there’s nothing to indicate she’s armed. (I’m not aware if there was a specifically devoted corps of medics in the Albanian partisan army.) She holds the right hand of the fallen partisan in her own right and seems to be looking for a pulse with her left. However the composition seems to indicate that this is futile, that they are too late to be able to help him. The injured’s left arm rests on the ground with the hand loosely open as if all life has gone out of the body. Also the right hand of the male partisan hovers over the hands of the dead, or dying soldier, and the female fighter. This seems to be him about to say that there’s no point in checking his pulse, it’s already too late.

Shoket - Permet - Hands

Shoket – Permet – Hands

There’s a very tranquil feeling emanating from this scenario. It’s a sad picture. As hard as they try they can achieve nothing. Death is final. Something precious has been lost.

But this is a pessimistic approach to death in war, the capitalist approach. This is the impression we get from the memorials that abound throughout Europe to those who died in the war of 1914-1919 – those who died in previous conflicts seemingly not worthy of remembrance in such a widespread manner.

Capitalism convinces workers to fight and possibly die for reasons that don’t benefit those same workers. This has been the case since capitalism became the dominant political and economic system a few centuries ago – the war against Fascism between 1939 and 1945 being, conceivably, the only exception. However, capitalism cannot celebrate the deaths that are a consequence of their predatory wars. It’s best if these deaths are mourned, quietly. There are annual services of remembrance but these always separate the actual deaths from the reason why they were placed in such a situation in the first place.

To celebrate those deaths might make people wonder what they actually got out of the war. To celebrate the defeat of Fascism might make people think that instead of fighting against something they should fight for something, a change in the system, a new tomorrow.

On the other hand the impression from the overwhelming majority of Albanian lapidars, and socialist realist art in general, is one of defiance, displaying a positive, optimistic, forward-looking and triumphant approach. They celebrate the deaths in the National Liberation War as those men and women fought for a future, for a new society.

In Volume 1 of the Albanian Lapidar Survey report there’s an article by a psuedo-academic called Gëzim Qëndro. In this article he attacks and attempts to denigrate ALL the production of Socialist Realist art (or at least ‘monumental propaganda’) as being the victory of Christian thinking over a proclaimed atheist state. In this article he displays a total lack of understanding of Albanian history, is unable to see any aspect of development in public sculpture from the 1960s onwards and certainly has no understanding of the aims of the country’s Cultural Revolution.

This makes the last sentence in Qëndro’s article, ‘ … the monument Shokët is a clear testimony of the presence of the religious connotations in the atheist art of Albanian socialist realism,’ a totally erroneous and ignorant reading and understanding of Albanian lapidars, their reasons for existence and the story they are attempting to convey.

Like so many bad academics Qëndro chooses his thesis and then looks for ‘facts’ to back it up, relying on most people’s lack of desire or ability to check matters for themselves.

Behind the sculpture there’s a concrete panel to which is attached a monolith (lapidar) that is positioned so that it rises exactly from the middle of the group of three. At my visit the panel was a somewhat sickly pinkish colour and the lapidar yellow. On the right hand side of the panel are the words ‘Lavdi Deshmoreve’, meaning ‘Glory to the Martyrs’.

The only other marking on this panel are the dates 1939 and 1945. This is slightly confusing. On WWII monuments throughout Europe the end date is normally the one where the war was considered to have ended in that particular country. I’ve always worked on the basis that in Albania that was the end of November 1944 so the year 1945 being on this monument is a mystery to me. It has nothing to do with treaties (the reason why some memorials for WWI in the UK show the date 1919 as the end of the conflict) as Albania was not invited to conferences where the likes of reparations were discussed and decided upon.

The sculpture has been ‘cared’ for over the years. Unfortunately this seems to be the sort of care that has more good intentions than actual skill in preservation. Whitewashing of the plaster is gradually causing some of the detail to be lost. However, considering it is now just over 50 years old the statue still allows the viewer to get an understanding of Paskali’s intentions.

As is the case with most of the Martyrs’ Cemeteries a small building was dedicated as a museum of the area, any battles that might have taken place in the vicinity and also a remembrance of the local people who died in the war. The one in Permet seems to be still acting as such (many are either totally abandoned or empty shells of what they used to be). Unfortunately on my visit there was no one around and it was all locked up but there were some busts and pictures still on display.

Shoket - Permet - Museum

Shoket – Permet – Museum

To the left of the door of the museum is a rectangular, marble plaque. This doesn’t list the names of the those buried in the cemetery but makes reference to those from the Permet region who are commemorated in the National Martyrs’ Cemetery in Tirana.

Shoket - Permet - Plaque

Shoket – Permet – Plaque

The words at the top of the plaque – ‘Dëshmorët që kanë eshtrat në varezat e kombit në Tiranë’ translates as ‘Martyrs whose remains are in the National Cemetery in Tirana’. This is something I have not seen elsewhere.

Location:

GPS:

40.23658999

20.35561496

DMS:

40° 14′ 11.7240” N

20° 21′ 20.2139” E

Altitude:

246.0 m

How to get there:

From the main square in the centre of Permet head down towards the bridge over the river. Once on the other side walk straight ahead, in the direction of Tepelene, and the cemetery is about 200m on the right, a short avenue of pine trees lining the path to the cemetery gates.

More on Albania …..

Arch of Drashovice 1943

Drashovice Arch 1943

Drashovice Arch 1943

More on Albania …..

Arch of Drashovice 1943

If victory was only temporary in 1920 (due to the betrayal by the despot and usurper ‘King’ Zog) the success in 1943 led to a situation where, really for the first time in Albania, the people had the opportunity to build a life and a country for themselves, by themselves. With the expulsion of the Nazis at the end of November 1944 the country gained true independence and it was then for the people to take their own destiny into their hands. No longer could they put the blame on others. The battles that took place in September and October 1943, and which are depicted on the Arch of Drashovice, played a major role in that final victory.

If the struggle, as depicted on the left hand side of the arch, against the Italians in 1920 seems to be crowded it is even more so on the right. There are parallels but also significant differences, many of those provided by the organisation of the National Liberation Army that was created under the leadership of the, then, Albanian Communist Party – later to become the Party of Labour of Albania.

This history unfolds in an anti-clockwise direction but, apart from that, follows the same format as already described of the 1920 events.

The panel under the arch has the same element of frantic activity. Here there are people who are not actively involved in fighting but are rushing to the front where others are already engaging the enemy. At the extreme left hand side are three male partisans. The one on the very edge we see his face side on, looking in the direction of the battle. He is wearing a cap and although we can’t see the star that would be on the front (this is the typical cap of a Partisan uniform). His left hand, which is resting on his chest, holds a rifle. Of a second male we only see part of his face as he is obscured by the raised arm and the body of the third who is looking behind him, mouth open and calling (and signalling) to those behind to get a move on. We know that the three of them are armed as there are three ends of the barrel visible above their heads.

The sense of movement, of urgency, is demonstrated here by the jacket of the male with the raised arm. It’s flowing back in his mad rush to get to the battle, this jacket thereby hiding the rest of the rifle of the partisan with the cap. But the out flung jacket exposed the butt of his rifle to view, the strap of it going over his right shoulder. On his belt an ammunition pouch can be seen. From his dress we can surmise that he is from the town as it’s not a partisan uniform but a civilian jacket, emphasising the nature of a partisan, a guerrilla war. Photos of the çeta (guerrilla units) of the time show a mix of dress.

Typical Partisan Group

Typical Partisan Group

One of the figures who is depicted in full size is the next in line. This is an older man than those seen so far, his dress is in the traditional style – woollen cap, sheep skin jacket, loose sleeved shirt, trousers and the opinga shoes but in the 20 years since the battle against the Italians, the fustanella (the skirt-like male attire) is less in evidence, but he is obviously from the countryside. The strap of his bolt-action rifle goes over his right shoulder and he holds the weapon in his right hand, at the top end of the stock. His left hand is bent back and rests against what could be a pouch at his waist. This is because he is also running. We can see that from his feet and his sheep skin jacket is also flying out behind him.

If everyone in this section of the tableau is rushing to the fighting they are being outstripped by the youngest individual on the whole monument. From his relative size to the others he is very young but also the most enthusiastic. He is literally flying, both his feet off the ground and he’s overtaking the rest and is closest to the commander calling the troops to arms. But this young lad is distinctive for other aspects.

He is the only one depicted in the 1943 battle who is bare-footed. As on the other side of the arch (and, indeed, on other lapidars) the footwear of the figures tells a story, of class background and wealth. In the 1920 battle the barefooted figure is the (possible) representation of Albania, pulling apart the Italian cannon with his bare hands. In 1920 he is an old man, here a young boy. Here we can interpret the image as a move of the struggle of the Albanians from that of national independence to that of constructing a completely new society, a society which can only be built, ultimately, with the active participation of the young. They can the more easy throw off old ideas and traditions with which older people are burdened. This is not a given as set-backs in Socialist societies in the 20th century showed, but the young have the potential to take society to a higher level – the problem is to encourage them to do so and not fall into the lethargy and cowardice that besets the old.

His dress is that of a young town worker and the star etched on the butt of his rifle, in a sense, mirrors and complements the clasp on the chest of the older man in the 1920 tableau. In 1920 the aim was national independence and so the double-headed eagle was more evident, in 1943 the aim was the socialist revolution, the end of exploitation and oppression, therefore the star takes a dominant role.

He shares another similarity to the cannon destroyer. Whereas in 1920 it’s the symbol of the Italian monarchy that is being crushed under the bare foot in 1943 it is the symbol of German Nazism that is about to feel the full weight of the new socialist society, both symbols ignominiously broken and lying on the ground, in the dirt. This brings to mind the image of how the captured German standards were thrown at the feet of the Soviet leadership, in the dirt of Red Square in Moscow, on May 9th 1945 (and how they used to be displayed in the Museum to the Revolution in Moscow until that museum became a sham by the end of the 1990s).

Nazi standards dumped in Red Square

Nazi standards dumped in Red Square

Perhaps it’s worthwhile here making a comment about the youth of those who fought in the war against Fascism in Albania. Looking through the (at least five) volumes of ‘Flasin Heronj të Luftës Nacional-Çlirimtare’ (The Heroes of the National Liberation War Speak) you soon realise that many of those who fought, and died, in the struggle against fascism were very young. This was the case with Persefoni and Bule (who were hanged in Gjirokaster) as well as young Liri Gelo – who was murdered by the Nazis in Fier. So by placing a young person in such a prominent, and symbolic, place in this tableau Dhrami is making a statement of the crucial role played by young people in the past to defeat the invader and attain independence for the country.

The manner in which he carries his rifle is also interesting. He’s clutching it close to his body, he doesn’t give the impression he knows exactly what to do with it. The rope strap that the others rushing to the battle use to carry the gun on their backs is here just flapping as he runs. He may have just picked this gun up from a fallen comrade but you get the idea that if anyone wants to take it off him they are in for a huge fight. And the carving of the star into the wood of the butt is the first I’ve noticed (so far) on the Albanian monuments. The star on the caps is common, on the weapons not so much, but this follows a tradition in the Balkans going back into the 19th century and which we can see on the bronze statue at Drashovice, with the double-headed eagle carved into the butt of the kneeling, 1920, fighter.

Between the peasant fighter and the youth there are the heads of three other fighters, two male and one female. We can only see the heads and sometimes the shoulders but, as is usually the case, they are telling us a story. They are all looking in the direction of the battle – there’s only need for one or two to be looking behind, normally calling on others to join the battle, and they are all armed.

The male closest to the back is in profile and only part of his face is in sight. On his head is a cap with the star, not the first so far but one of the many that are depicted here. This is not just any partisan unit, this is an almost exclusively Communist band of guerrilla fighters, the Communist symbolism in many parts. His rifle barrel sticks up just in front of his face.

The comrade in front of him wears no insignia and is bare-headed but the top of the barrel of his rifle is at the level of his should. The third of this little group is an older woman, dressed in the traditional headgear of the kapica – seen on the other side of the arch. To some extent the traditional clothing of the countryside persisted more with the women than the men – such dress to be seen to this day in certain parts of the country, not a particularly progressive indication of the role of women in 21st century Albanian society.

All of this forward group have determination etched on their faces and are armed with modern weapons. That’s an important difference from those going to war in 1920 when anything that could hurt someone was grabbed as they left for the front. In 1943 the partisans are seen well organised, well equipped, even though much of their armaments would have come from the defeated enemy (as well as some arms drops by the British). Also different from the other side is the fact that the woman is going to war, on a par with her male comrades, and is equally armed and ready for action as her hand holding her rifle appears (slightly disembodied) in front of her, over the left shoulder of the bare-footed youth.

Immediately above the older woman is the only Albanian figure on this side of the monument who isn’t armed. Instead he is playing an important role of blowing the bugle to announce the charge to make sure the advance of the Nazi front-line is maintained and victory assured. With the noise of battle, which would have been greater than the previous one of 1920, so more noise was needed to call for reserves. The red star is clearly seen on his cap and it looks like he’s wearing a bandana around his neck.

Finally on this part of the 1943 tableau, before moving on to the main facade, there are two young partisans, one male and one female. They are both in uniform, although we only see the head and shoulders of both. Their caps sport the red star and both of them are armed. The female partisan has her long hair blowing in the wind and the fact that she’s in uniform shows the advance in the active participation of Albanian women in the struggles to free their country. As I’ve said before about 16% of the partisan force were female and although still less than it could be it’s still much higher than the level in most capitalist/imperialist countries whose armed forces are engaged in combat – excepting, perhaps the present day fascist Israeli Defence Force, although they only operate in an army that uses overwhelming technological advantage against civilians, so significantly different from the female Partisans in Albania.

As with the depiction of the 1920 battle here Dhrami manages to use one of his participants to take the action from the smaller panel to the large one, where all the action is going on. Here it’s a full figure of a Partisan commander. He has his rifle raised high above his head in his right hand, showing to those running where they must head, his left hand resting on his thigh. Once they reach him they will be directed to where to go as from then on they are in the thick of the battle.

He is shown as an older man (there are other older fighters but the majority are shown as young) with a moustache (facial hair had become less of a fashion by the time of the National Liberation War). He has the star on his cap and he is in the full uniform of a partisan with his jacket open at the neck – a more informal look not normally associated with officers. (Although guerrilla and partisan armies have a structure it has to, of necessity, have less of a hierarchical nature than the class ridden armies of capitalist nations.) Around his waist he has ammunition pouches and attached over his right hip is an English Mills bomb (grenade). The young running boy has just reached him.

His stance is interesting as he straddles the fascist, swastika bearing, banner that lies in the dirt. His left foot is placed on a broken wheel and between his legs can be seen the broken pieces of wood of a barbed wire barricade. The standard is no longer flying as the Partisans have breached the Nazi defence. This is a mirror of the situation on the other side. The broken wheel symbolising the destruction of the enemy’s technology, and theoretical military superiority. It is into this breach in the barbed wire defences that the advancing forces are to enter to completely annihilate the enemy.

Drashovice Arch - Nazi standard in the dirt

Drashovice Arch – Nazi standard in the dirt

Going now up on the left hand side we have a another full figure of an officer. The structure of Communist armies was (both prior to and after gaining state control) that the leadership was shared between a top military and political official – the latter being known as the Commissar from the Soviet experience and language. All decisions on a battlefield have a political consequence and the weighing up of the consequences in conflict have been one of the factors that led to partisan success in the past. This avoids purely military criteria being used when a decision is made to confront the enemy. For example, an easy victory might be avoided as a much more, but in the longer term more strategically important and significant, difficult confrontation would advance the cause greater. The aim is to win the war, not necessarily every possible battle.

The Commissar was also responsible for the political education of the forces when not in battle, the combatants being clear of the reasons they were fighting as important as the technical skills needed by a soldier.

My suggestion is that this other officer, a young man, could well be the Commissar. He is directing the battle in a way the other officer is not. In his right hand he holds a Beretta Model 38 Sub-machine gun (the same sort of weapon as the bronze 1943 partisan statue is holding) the magazine resting on his right thigh. However, his left arm is outstretched and pointing in the direction of the confrontation with the fascists, directing the small group behind him to where they are needed.

He’s in full uniform, cap with a star and a bandana around his neck. Apart from his sub machine-gun he wears a pistol in a holster on his left hip. His stance also makes the statement that he is in the mountains, one foot being higher than the other, as you would be if on the hills. He also straddles symbols of defeat for the Nazis. Beneath him there’s the broken wood and short, ineffectual strands of barbed wire, a standard German metal helmet, with the eagle and swastika of the Waffren SS, at the toe of his right boot. Amongst all this detritus is a tubular metal gas mask tin, used by soldiers to carry anything other than a gas mask but a common part of a German soldier’s military equipment (there’s one on the back a fighting soldier below). Here we get the idea of death without the scene being littered with dead bodies. Vital equipment being abandoned indicates defeat.

Behind his right shoulder are a group of three males. The one closest to him is wearing a heavy overcoat and a thick jumper. (Although some in this tableau are depicted as if they were enjoying a hot summer a great deal of the fighting took place in the high mountains in the winter (as seen on many paintings) and it can get cold up there.) He wears a cap with the star on the front and has a rifle slung over his right shoulder and is looking in the direction of where the officer is pointing.

Behind him is an older man, dressed in traditional clothing and with a moustache (more typical of the countryside in this period than the town) who is looking in the direction of the battle. He is holding the top of the barrel of his rifle, which is seen on the edge of this panel.

The third of the group is again a younger male with a rifle slung over his right shoulder. He also has a star on his cap, but this is not the same as the majority on this tableau. His head covering is more like the traditional, woollen conical hats we have already seen but together with the star there’s what seems to be a double-headed eagle, a variation of which became part of the national flag after national liberation. I’ve only just noticed this slight variation and have yet to discover the significance, if any, of the difference. The presence of the star indicates that the wearer was a Communist and not just a nationalist fighter. His stance is also slightly different. He seems to be looking at the viewer and has his right arm bent and the clenched fist close to the side of his head. We can tell how tight he is clenching his fist by the veins sticking out at his wrist.

It would be useful if the revolutionary left could decide on a universal salute. There seems to be two. I don’t know why nor do I know how they developed. One is the right arm salute seen here – and also on the lapidar in the Martyrs’ Cemetery of Erseke. The other is the straight armed, clenched fist, stretching up high salute as can be seen given by the Partisan in the Martyrs’ Cemetery in Korça (and which is also seen on this arch at the very top).

Further up on the left hand side and behind this group of three is an older man, moustached, who must be the Partisan artillery commander. He is in full uniform and a Communist, the standard star on his cap. Criss-crossed over his chest are a couple of ammunition belts and although he is the middle of the task of working out the range for the artillery he still has hold of his rifle by the barrel in his left hand. In his right hand he holds a stubby gun sighting telescope to his right eye. It’s difficult to make out exactly what type but it is similar to a number made by the British at the time. They tended to be shorter than anything that might have been captured from the Italian or German Fascists. Just to his right and little above him are two artillery pieces.

The role of artillery commander at the battle of Drashovice was held by Hysni Kapo, who later went on to become a member of the Politburo of the Party of Labour of Albania and a close comrade in arms to the Party’s General Secretary, Enver Hoxha. However, this is not an image of Kapo, he was a much younger man at the time.

Hysni Kapo

Hysni Kapo

Hysni Kapo was born in Tërbaç, a village that is further up the Shushicë River valley, (where there’s an interesting mosaic dedicated to the 5th Brigade as well as the Martyrs’ Cemetery on the outskirts of the village) so he was very much fighting on home ground. He was wounded in the leg during the fighting. The valley at Drashovice is not particularly wide and control of the mountains on either side would have given that force a decided advantage, both in terms of visibility as well as being able to do significant damage with the artillery. The mountain guns shown on the arch were effective weapons and the partisans developed the ability to move them around to great effect. It was this type of short-barreled mountain gun that was used on 18th October of the same year to shell the Quisling Assembly from the hills above Sauk, just outside of Tirana.

Behind the artillery commander’s left shoulder is another group of three partisans, slanting down from left to right. Almost obscured by the commander’s head is the face of a very young male, about the age of the boy running with the rifle below. Next is an older male partisan, the normal star on his cap and we can see the top of the barrel of his rifle sticking up in front of him.

The last of the group is a young female fighter. She wears a cap with the star and her long hair falling down over her shoulders. What we see of her dress it is more the tradition wear of women of the countryside. However, she has a modern cap rather than the kapica headdress. I would have thought such flowing dresses were not the most appropriate of attire to go fighting fascists but perhaps Dhrami’s idea here was to show a process of transition, from the way women were seen generally in the country and how they were starting to take matters into their own hands. She has webbing across body and in her right hand holds a rifle close to her chest. There are few occasions when women depicted on Albanian lapidars are not armed and dangerous.

Above this group, and at the topmost part of the 1943 arch are two, from the waist-up, images of a male and female partisan. This is Victory. This is a celebration. But it also shows preparedness for the future.

The male is virtually in the centre of the panel. He’s dressed in the full partisan uniform, webbing across his chest and although his face is in profile we can clearly see the star on his cap. Both his arms are fully extended and the form the victory symbol ‘V’. In his right hand he holds his Beretta Model 38 Sub-machine gun (it seems a lot of these were liberated from the Italian invaders). The fist in his left hand is clenched, in the revolutionary salute. As his arms are raised this allows the wind to blow out his loose jacket which flows out to his right, just as the partisan flag below him.

Whereas the man is demonstrative in victory the woman is pensive, looking to her left. She wears the traditional style of clothing of the countryside, the long flowing dress, including the kapica. Over that dress she has webbing which includes an ammunition belt that crosses left to right over her chest. Her rifle she holds in both hands, hugging it to her. Her left hand is holding it by the stock whilst the forefinger of her right hand – and here it’s something different and unique in the depiction of a weapon that is not being fired at the time – is on the trigger. The battle might be over, the war is yet to be won!

The positioning is also important and relevant to the general ideas that were developed during Albania’s Cultural Revolution from the mid-1960s onwards. It was a stated aim, from the very beginning, that emphasis should be made on the role of women both in the National Liberation War and in the building of a new society. Here we have both a male and female partisan at the very top of the monument and at the moment of victory. They are physically at EXACTLY the same level depicting equality in a formal manner.

Drashovice Arch - Victory

Drashovice Arch – Victory

Now whether there was full ‘equality’ is another matter. And anyway, the issue of ‘equality’ in a socialist society has to take into account many factors that aren’t even recognised as existing in capitalist societies. In a patriarchal society, such as Albania was before the revolution, this elevating of the role of women in past and present struggles was part of the campaign to turn what was a formal equality into actual reality. Although the female partisan is shown as vigilant her daughters and grand-daughters weren’t as concerned (for reasons which are far too complex and numerous to go into here) as she was to maintain, and develop, the status of women in their country. Old attitudes, which were never totally defeated (merely pushed underground waiting to sprout once the opportunity arose) are returning and although some women might be able to ‘advance’ in Albania the position of women in general will not be anything like was attained during the Socialist period from 1944 to 1990.

On the arch the battle against the Nazis continues as we come down on the right hand side of the main panel.

At the female partisan’s left elbow we see the heads of two male fighters. Well only the woollen hat of one of them and head, in profile, on the other. Again the star just peaks out in outline as the two of them use their machine guns against the enemy. One of the tripods appears to be balanced on the top of the flag that flutters in the mountain breeze just below the victorious couple.

The banner, with the star midway between the two heads of the double-headed eagle flutters back, from right to left, as the standard-bearer runs forward, holding the flag pole with both hands behind him, the right higher on the pole than the left. This fluttering is similar to that of the jacket on the victorious male above. Involved in other work the flag carrier is not shown as armed but with his bandana and the star on his cap he has the task of rallying the troops and reminding them for what they are fighting.

Now back to the Commissar, but this time on his left hand side, we see the faces of three partisans. These are part of the group that will go off in the direction he is indicating. We only see the heads of the first two closest to the Commissar. The first, with a moustache, looks straight out at the viewer whilst the other is in profile. It’s impossible to tell how they are armed as the scene is so crowded.

The third, a young woman is also in profile but we see much more of her. She is in full uniform and her hair is seen falling down over her neck underneath her cap. This depiction of young women with their hair flowing free is very common in Dhrami’s work. Traditionally the women had their hair covered, with the kapica, which would be part of the Moslem tradition but this style of dress seems to have encompassed the other two principal religious sects in the country (then and now) Catholic and Greek Orthodox Christians.

This freedom of young women to display their hair is an indication and declaration of modernity. It’s turning it’s back on feudal traditions, on the past and on the obligation that women had to comply with the norm, with the accepted styles. Each time I return to Albania I am more aware of the number of women wearing hair coverings, not just Moslem women. It is said that many of these women do so out of ‘choice’ but it is possible to imprison oneself as well as being imprisoned by force. Examples in other countries that had the modernity bombed out of them by the combined enlightenment of the imperialist ‘alliance against terror’ shows that, perhaps sometimes, choice is limited to doing one thing – or else.

Back to the young female partisan. She has a rifle close to her in her left hand and her right seems to be looking for, or perhaps she is holding something, around her waist. There are ammunition pouches attached to her belt and at times I think I see the outline of a pistol – but that’s not particularly clear and wouldn’t seem to make sense.

And, it will come as no surprise, the Communist star is on all their caps. Even though I keep repeating it the implications are important. In 1920 it was a nationalist victory over the Italian Army of Victor Emmanuel. There were more than likely some Communists involved, after all this was only three years after the October Revolution in Russia, revolutions had taken place (and failed) in Germany and Hungary and the ideas of socialism were widespread throughout Europe following the slaughter of the 1914-18 War. But it was a nationalist victory that, because the ideology with a long-term strategy wasn’t dominant, collapsed first into local monarcho-fascism and later occupation by the Italian forces of Mussolini.

Drashovice in 1943 was different. An organised Communist Party had been able to unite various forces in a National Liberation War against any invader. By the autumn of 1943 the Italian’s had been defeated. In just over a year the German Nazis would be defeated. Small Albania would then have to face the ire of the British, later the Yugoslavs and then, in too rapid succession, the abandonment by the Soviet Union and then the People’s Republic of China. That had all happened before the construction of the Drashovice Arch when the People’s Republic of Albania had isolation forced upon them (rather than descending into xenophobia as it is often described).

The second battle of Drashovice was a Communist victory and the images cry that out from the roof-tops. Virtually every individual Albanian depicted has at least one indication of their political allegiance, whether it be the star, a bandana or otherwise outward sign such as a carving on the stock of a rifle.

Up to now what has been described has been those forces heading towards the action. The next part is in the thick of the battle. From now on everyone is fighting for his or her life.

The young male at the end of the Commissar’s finger is not in uniform, nor wearing a cap, but the webbing, on which spare ammunition is attached, shows some element of organisation. But the extra ammunition is of no use. For whatever reason, perhaps it jammed, perhaps he didn’t have the chance to re-load, he is using his rifle as a club. He holds the barrel close to the end with his right hand and his left is just above the bolt. He is using all his strength to put as much force down on a fallen Nazi. As in the 1920 tableau, if you don’t have what you would like use what you have.

This is an old rifle, possibly from the time of the earlier conflict, you can tell that from the shape of the butt. The age would suggest a malfunction but if he has taken the weapon from the past he’s also taken a local, Balkan tradition with him into battle. Carved into the wood of the butt that’s about to crush the enemy is a star below which are the letters ‘VFLP’. This stands for: Vdekje Fashizmit – Liri Popullit! (Death to Fascism – Freedom to the People!) which appears on a number of lapidars, such as the Monument to Heroic Peze as well as in many paintings.

We can’t see the person he is about to attack but just inside his left leg is a German helmet on the side of which is the Nazi SS symbol. Alongside the helmet s the tip of a bayonet, indicating that we are back to the same sort of hand to hand fighting as was seen on the other side of the arch. Here we have the anti-fascist slogan crashing down on Fascism itself.

Drashovice Arch - VFLP v SS

Drashovice Arch – VFLP v SS

There aren’t many images of the Nazi dead on the monument (that would take up too much space) but what Dhrami has done to indicate fatalities is to show a number of helmets, together with weapons in a non-firing orientation. A small group of helmets can be seen to the young partisan’s left, together with the tops of a couple of rifles and a bayonet, no longer a threat. On one of these helmets is the eagle and swastika symbol of the Waffren-SS, the principal regiment fighting in Albania (and another reason why the German War Memorial in Tirana Park is an insult to all those who fought and died in the National Liberation War).

But this fighter hasn’t finished yet. His left foot is stamping down on a Mauser MG34, heavy machine gun, rendering it useless any more in the battle.

From the level of his rifle butt there’s a group of four Partisans, going down from right to left. First is a male, we only see part of his face in profile but he has a bolt-action rifle up to his shoulder and his finger on the trigger. Next to him is a young female partisan. She seems to be standing up higher than the others in her group, and we see slightly more than a head and shoulders view. She is in uniform and has an ammunition belt across her chest, going from right to left. The reason she’s making herself taller is that she is about to throw a hand grenade down onto the enemy below and she’s looking down on to the group of Nazis in the bottom right hand corner of the panel. This grenade is the Model 24 Stielhandgranate (translation: ‘stalk hand grenade’), the stick grenade which was the standard used by the Germans during the war. As opposed to the Mills bombs that would have come from the British this would have been taken off previously defeated Fascist forces and she is returning it, with interest.

Below her is the face in profile of another male. He is armed but this time with a pistol. It’s difficult to make out exactly what type, but it looks like a revolver – there’s signs of wear on this part of the statue. This is a little bit unusual but it seems that Dhrami is introducing all the types of weapons used at the time. Next to him is the fourth of this particular group, an older male, wearing the woollen cap and the sheepskin cloak, with a moustache, thereby reinforcing the idea this was a war fought by all generations and from all parts of the country. He also has rifle up to his shoulder, pointing in the direction of the entrapped Germans, his finger on the trigger.

Moving further down, by the right hand edge, we are into a situation of, literally, hand to hand fighting. Their faces only inches apart we have a partisan struggling with a Nazi officer. The Nazi has a Lugar P08 pistol in his right hand but this has been made ineffective by the action of the partisan who has gripped the hand, and the pistol, in his own left and has forced the muzzle into the air. In order to get an advantage the partisan also has his right hand at the throat of the officer, gripping him by his uniform at the top of his jacket.

Drashovice Arch - Life or Death Struggle

Drashovice Arch – Life or Death Struggle

We get an idea of the status of the officer by his uniform. He wears the field cap of a Waffren-SS officer, with its badges of the eagle with the symbol of the swastika in its talons and beneath that the Totenkopf (the ‘death’s head’ symbol of the skull and crossbones). On the pocket on left hand side of his jacket he wears the Iron Cross medal, together with the swastika in the centre (a variation of the ancient military medal introduced by the Nazis from 1939). Above the medal is another example of the eagle with the swastika, indicating that he is a member of the Nazi Party.

This is a life and death struggle. Only one can come out of this confrontation alive. The stack of German helmets to the officer’s back suggests that he will soon be joining the Nazi fallen.

Possibly due to damage it’s difficult to see if there is a star on his cap but as I’ve said before there are other signs to look for to denote allegiance, and this partisan has what would have been a red scarf around his neck, the main body of it laying over the top of his back.

Going down from right to left from this mortal struggle are the final four Albanians depicted on this tableau. They are the ones in the actual front line. In front of them are the enemy. The impression of the intensity of the battle can be seen in their stance and the determination on their faces.

The first is an older man, moustachioed and firing a Beretta sub-machine gun. On his cap he has the symbol seen once before (the partisan giving a clenched fist salute) of the star with the double-headed eagle below. Around his waist he wears an ammunition belt.

The next is a young male partisan. Whereas all the others are, more or less, facing the viewer, he has his back to us. His rifle is not operative, either jammed or out of ammunition, so he holds his weapon high, the right hand gripping it behind the firing mechanism whilst his left holds it on the barrel. His aim is to use the muzzle, in a stabbing action, to attack the enemy right in front of him.

Next is a young female partisan. She also has a sub-machine gun, supporting it with a strap that goes over her left shoulder. This is not a Beretta, with its distinctive recoil compensator, but she is using it to effect nonetheless. Although in uniform she is wearing a woollen jumper rather than a jacket.

The final member on the front line is a male with a bolt-action rifle up to his shoulder, finger on the trigger and firing into the Nazis only feet away. He has extra ammunition around his waist and across his chest. Like all the others he has a star on his cap.

The remaining images are all of the Nazis, in retreat, dying or fighting for their lives. The tips of their weapons form a curve that goes from the officer in hand to hand combat on the right hand side down to the bottom left, to end up with the Nazi standard in the dirt. They are crushed into a corner, with nowhere to go. They are so close to each other it’s even difficult for them to defend themselves. The dead make the situation even more difficult and the bodies make the living even more aware of their fate.

The helmets and the muzzles of weapons pointing away from the action indicate the toll being taken on the German invaders. Then we start to see some faces. Right at the edge of the tableau there’s a helmeted head tipped back, the eyes are closed, as if he has just been shot or injured. In front of this dying Nazi are two faces in profile but with only one weapon between them, one is holding a dagger in his right hand, not much use against the grenades, sub-machine guns and rifles that confront them. This again demonstrates the ferocity of the conflict. (There’s some slight damage to the stone work on the edge of this Nazi’s helmet.)

Further into the melee matters start to get confusing. There’s a Nazi with a rifle up to his shoulder, firing at the attackers. Just behind him can be seen the almost full length of a bayonet, but it’s impossible to know to which soldier it is attached. On the very edge of the panel there’s a disembodied right hand, held up high into the air, below that a helmet and then below again a muzzle pointing away from the battle. Is this again suggesting surrender and defeat, if not by all the Germans at least by some?

Then there’s the end of a rifle barrel with a bayonet attached. This is also a weapon that doesn’t seem to have an owner. Two, the last ones, soldiers seem to be capable or willing to fight. The one in the front has a rifle in a stance that would indicate he is ready to fire. On his back there’s the circular gas mask container. Behind him there’s an individual whose importance is not so much that of how he is fighting but in how he is dressed. On the left lapel of his jacket we can see the ‘runic’ representation of the SS symbol, the letters being constructed with straight lines. This soldier also is a bearer of the Iron Cross, which would almost certainly make him an NCO if not an officer.

After them there’s nothing left of the Nazi fighting force. On the right hand edge there’s a field gun which looks like it might have lost is caterpillar track, but I’m not totally sure here. Next there’s a machine gunner who is obviously dead as he is slumped over his weapon, his left arm hanging loose as he rests his chin on the gun. There’s the Nazi Party eagle and swastika symbol on his rolled up sleeve. This weapon is again the Mauser MG34, bullets are ready to go through the chamber but there’s no one to pull the trigger. Three empty shell casings lie on the ground beneath the gun.

Drashovice Arch - Fate of the Nazis

Drashovice Arch – Fate of the Nazis

Behind him is another fallen Nazi. He has his back to us, crumpled into the bottom corner of the panel, his rifle muzzle pointing away from battle. At the feet of the attacking Partisans another German lies on the ground, his arms are covering his head, whether to protect himself from the onslaught or indicating his death is not clear. Finally, in the gap above this prone body are further weapons, including a field gun, that is no longer involved in the battle.

And that’s it.

In an earlier post I described this as the ‘War and Peace’ of Albanian lapidars, perhaps it would be better to describe it as a complex graphic novel. There’s lots going on and the symbolism is stronger here than on many other monuments in the country. A truly masterful piece of work!

The other two sides of the arch are, in a sense, mirror images of the similar locations for the 1920 battle. That was simply for independence, the battle of 1943 was under the leadership of the Communist Party and for that reason, on the south-facing panel, the central motif is of a large star. Peeking out behind the star, at the top left, are the weapons that were used by the partisans in the battle. Gone are the agricultural tools of 1920, replaced with modern (and sometimes not so modern) firearms.

Just above, and to the right of the star are the words:

E tunde, parti, e tunde, me djema e vajza si nure.

Translated this is:

You’ve done great, the Party has done great things, with the amazing boys and girls

And as with the flag of 1920, the right hand star disappears into the stone and we read the words:

Moj Mavrovë e Drashovicë, ç’hata bëre atë ditë, me topa me alitrik, e bëre natëne ditë.

Moj Mavrova of Drashovicë, what great things you did that day, fearlessly, both night and day.

(I’ve not been able to find out anything about Moj Mavrovë, apart from the fact that Mavrovë is a small village just a little further up the valley.)

And below those words:

Hysni Kapua si petrit, përmbi tela ç’u vërvit, gjermanët në gjuh u flit, dorëzohu mor jezit.

The young Hysni Kapo, with iron determination, withstood all that the Germans could throw at him, until they surrendered.

Hysni Kapo was a long-standing member of the Politburo. He died in 1979.

The final panel, at the back of the monument, follows exactly the same pattern as that for 1920.

A huge hand tightly grips a rifle near to the top of the barrel. The wrist morphs into the number 1943, in a large font. To the left of the year is the date: 14 shtator 4 tetor, stating that the battle took place between September 14th and October 4th of that year. This date is followed by a small star (any such comparable symbol missing from the 1920 panel).

Then there are the words:

Lufta heroike e Drashovicës që zhvilloi populli i rrethit të Vlorës nën udhëheqjen e shokut Hysni Kapo kundër pushtuesve gjermanë përbën një ndër betejat më të lavdishme të Luftës Nacionalçlirimtare.

Which translates as:

The heroic battle of Drashovice that the people of Vlora district, under the leadership of Comrade Hysni Kapo, fought against the German occupiers is amongst the most glorious battles of the National Liberation War.

And that’s the story of the Drashovice monument.

As this is such a complex and detailed lapidar I intend to describe its complexity over the course of three posts. This is the third of the three. The others can be found under the name of ‘Arch of Drashovice – Introduction and Statue‘ and ‘Arch of Drashovice 1920‘.

Getting there:

I’ve found the best place to pick up a furgon that goes along the Shushicë Valley is by waiting beside the road in the square opposite the Vlora Baskia on Rruga Perlat Rexhepi (the Historical Museum is at the Vlora end of this road). Other furgons leave from this point but you want a furgon that comes the centre of town. Just flag down any one that comes from that direction (possibly going to Mavrovë or Kotë) and ask for Drashovice.

GPS:

40.44681902

19.58655104

DMS:

40° 26′ 48.5485” N

19° 35′ 11.5837” E

Altitude:

64.2m

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