Partisan and Child, Borove

Posted on 09/08/2015 by Michael

The statue of a Partisan and Child, just beside the main road passing through the small village of Borove in the south-east of the country, is one of the most charming of Albanian monuments but its charm obscures a much darker story. That story is less obvious now than it was in 1968 when it was created, in a different location and part of a bigger tableau.

It is the work of two sculptors, Ilia Xhano and Piro Dollaku, and the original design incorporated a panel depicting people from the village as well as a tall lapidar with a star at its summit. This was erected on the rocky outcrop upon which the Martyrs’ Cemetery was built, across the main road from the bulk of the present village.

Monument to Borova, Erseke – 01

I won’t go into a great detail here (I’ll leave that for when I write about the description of the present arrangement at the cemetery) but it will make sense of what follows if you know that the original monument was constructed to commemorate those who died at the hands of the Nazis on July 9th 1943. (Such events making the construction of the German War Memorial in Tirana and insult to their memory.)

At that time Albania was under the nominal control of the Italian Fascists but the German variety were in Greece. A few days before the massacre a German army convoy used Albania as a shortcut to join other forces in Greece. As it passed close to the village of Borove it was attacked by a unit of the Albanian National Liberation Army. A battle ensued for a few hours but eventually the convoy was able to continue along its way.

The German High Command decided to pay the Albanian people for their impertinence in defending their national integrity and three days after the attack on the convoy returned to the village and killed all they could find, as was usually the case in such massacres in wartime, mainly women, children and old men. Those who weren’t shot were herded into the village church and then burnt alive. A total of 107 people were killed that day. Before they left the Fascists burnt down or otherwise destroyed every building in the village.

This herding of the people is what is depicted on the panel of the original monument. (It still exists having been placed on the wall at the entrance to the cemetery.)

Monument to Borova, Erseke – 03

If we now return to the statue we find that we have a different story and I’m not sure why the decision was made to change the narrative. I have no exact date when the changes were made but from other indicators probably sometime in the mid-1980s. It was also probably at that time that the plaster sculpture was replaced by the more substantial bronze version that we see now.

Before the story was clear. On the left the panel depicting the last moments of some of the villagers. In the middle the column with the star at the top symbolising the victory of the Communists in liberating their country. On the right the Partisan and Child symbolised the fact that it was the Partisan Army that threw the Fascists out of the country, the rifle on his shoulder emphasising that what had been gained by the gun could only be defended by the gun (as I suggested in my description of some of the images on the Gjirokaster Education monument) and his protective hand on the young girl’s shoulder making references to the future.

But in its present location that narrative is not there. Socialist Realist Art is not just about the image but the message that the image is attempting to communicate. It’s still a fine statue. It still has meaning – but that meaning has been lessened.

As in most partisan statues he has the star on his cap and what would have been the red bandana around his neck declaring that he is a Communist. He’s armed and prepared and willing to fight, he did so in the past he will do so in the future. His right foot is pressed down on a German Nazi soldier’s helmet symbolising the crushing and destruction of Fascism (although we should always remember Bertolt Brecht’s words ‘Do not rejoice in his defeat, you men. For though the world has stood up and stopped the bastard, the bitch that bore him is in heat again.’). His right hand holds the strap of his rifle, which is slung over his shoulder, and his left hand rests on the girl’s shoulder. This is indicating a willingness to protect her (and by inference all other children and the construction of Socialism) as well as a passing on of the task of fighting for, and defending once gained, that which was offered to the Albania people in 1943 with the winning of independence. Now, I accept, that some of that younger generation didn’t come up to the task but that’s by the by.

In its original context this protective and caring gesture had another meaning. Of the images on the panel there are two women, one cradling and using her own body to protect a babe in arms and another clutching a young boy close to her body. They were unarmed, they died. Mirroring this gesture the Partisan is saying I, and the future, will not die so easily.

Monument to Borova, Erseke – 02

I first saw this statue on my first visit to Albania in 2011, fleetingly, only for a matter of a second or so out of the corner of my eye as the bus passed through the village. Having had the chance to study it on a quite, sunny and warm, late May afternoon it lived up to its promise.

Borove probably doesn’t have many more people living there now than it did at the time of the massacre in 1943 but it boasts incredibly fine examples of art from the Socialist period. There’s a dignity emanating from this couple. They are confident, they know what they need to do, they know that it won’t be easy but they are determined. Both stand straight and firm, heads held high, looking to the future.

It’s also unique (at least so far from my experience) in that this is the first sculpture which places such a young child (and a female one at that, as I wrote in my post about the project in general, one of the aims of Albania’s Cultural revolution was to emphasis the role of women in society, past, present and future) in such a prominent role. There are children in other monuments but not as the main player. Here she is smaller but still an equal with the soldier.

Borove Museum and Martyrs’ Cemetery

I may not be sure why the original sculpture was broken up but I can see logic in placing the Partisan and Child where it is. Most Martyrs’ Cemeteries had a small museum eventually connected to them. I’ve not encountered one that is still intact and many of them were looted in the 1990s – whether by enemies or friends of Socialism is unsure. Directly across the road from the sculpture is a space, right next to the hill, that shows signs of a recent renovation of the windows and doors – certainly later than 1990. Whatever work was started it was put on hold some time ago. If it was a ‘working’ museum the statue opposite the entrance would make sense.

New position of the statue

Partisan and Child – Borove – New position

On a visit to Borove in the early autumn of 2019 I was shocked to see, when I came into the village from the direction of Erseke, an empty plinth where I expected to see one of my favourite Albanian lapidars.

However, it was relief that on looking to the other side of the road I saw that the Partisan and Child had be re-positioned and now stands on a lower plinth in front of the small structure under the martyrs’ Cemetery mound. As it now stands on a lower plinth it’s now possible to have a good walk around the statue and fell the texture of the bronze.

I assume the building, that has never been anything but a dirty and empty room, was originally designed as a museum but if it ever operated as such I don’t know. The road from Erseke to Permet is a particularly quiet road, even by Albanian standards. Few vehicles pass during the day and even fewer would even know, or notice, the statue and realise there’s a large memorial cemetery atop the mound around which the road winds as it leaves the village and heads south. And on the handful of occasions I’ve been to Borove I’ve never actually seen anyone walking in the village. Nonetheless it would be paying respect of the murdered villagers if there was some sort of memorial in the form of a museum inside the building.

The lack of a museum, which tells the story of the event during the national Liberation War, means the slaughter of the villages by the Nazis in retaliation for a Partisan ambush in the hills above the village is being forgotten. The only time the people are remembered is when the German Embassy makes a meaningless gesture of atonement on the anniversary of the murders on July 9th – although I’m not sure if that still takes place every year.

Location:

If you are heading south, coming from the direction of Erseke, the sculpture is (now) on the right hand side as you come into the village of Borove, in front of the abandoned museum below the cemetery mound. Blink and you’ll miss it as the road twists and turns as it goes around the rocky outcrop of the cemetery and then leaves Borove behind.

GPS:

40.310928

20.65264103

DMS:

40° 18′ 39.3408” N

20° 39′ 9.5077” E

Altitude:

967.3m

More on Albania …..

Martyrs’ Cemetery, Gjirokaster

Posted on 08/08/2015 by Michael

Martyrs’ Cemetery, Gjirokaster

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Martyrs’ Cemetery, Gjirokaster

There are a lot of mountains in Albania and they played a role in the success of the Communist led Partisan çeta (guerrilla groups) in defeating first Italian and then German Fascism. For that reason most of the Martyrs’ Cemeteries in Albania tend to be high above towns, in the surrounding hills, as is the case in Tirana. On my first visit to Gjirokaster I was, therefore, scanning the hills above the old town looking for the tell-tale signs of a white lapidar indicating the location of the cemetery.

It wasn’t until details came out in the Albanian Lapidar Survey that I learnt that it was located at probably the lowest part of town, right beside the place where the long distance buses drop off and pick up. I had stood beside it a number of times not realising what was behind the trees. In the past the vegetation hadn’t been so dense (and there was probably more care taken on basic maintenance) and buildings wouldn’t have been constructed so close, but things are different now.

Like a number of lapidars the Martyrs’ Cemetery monument in Gjirokaster has gone through changes, developments, since it was first constructed in the 1960s. The earliest picture I have found is one taken in 1969.

Martyrs’ Cemetery, Gjirokaster, 1969

It’s not a very good picture (unfortunately, to date, the only one I have been able to find from the period of major lapidar construction) but on this we can see that the general, architectural, aspect is the same as it is today. What is different is the design on the right hand panel. I’ve been told by Vincent from the ALS that the original wording on the panel was LAVDI DESHMOREVE, TE LUFTËS N.C. The N.C standing for Nacional Çlirimtare, there not being enough room for the complete words – but understood by all who saw it. This translates as ‘Glory to the Martyrs of the National Liberation War’. That was all in 1969. (And if you look really hard you can make out those letters.) Some time later (and I would hazard a guess at 1983, when the Education, Partisan and Music and Dancing Monuments were constructed) the frieze of the faces and Partisan fighters were added. And, since the Albanian Lapidar Survey made their visit in the summer of 2014, the monument has been ‘cleaned and restored’.

A common aspect of Albanian monuments (and which provides the generic name of ‘lapidar’) is a soaring monolith, more often than not surmounted by a star. Not all present lapidars have this aspect but it was from this that the monuments got their name. Here there are two, which start out at the base further apart than they are at the top. Through the construction of a sloping section up to the height of the panel they are brought closer together and then a section links them together.

The column on the left is narrower than its companion but is a couple of metres taller. The column on the right is painted red and it would seem that has always been so. That can be seen in the indistinct 1969 picture above and also from the colour picture (below) taken sometime in the 1970s of a commemoration event. This was a little bit unusual. Although through recent renovations more colour has been introduced to many of the lapidars from the evidence I’ve seen the vast majority, at their inception, were just bare and unadorned concrete, at times concrete faced with stone tiles/slabs or white plaster.

At the top of the red column is a black double-headed eagle. This represents the Albanian national flag. Perched on the very top is a red star – but the present star is not the original. As can be seen in the historic pictures the original star was much larger. The restoration of a smaller version is a sign of the changing politics and the need for its replacement is a demonstration of the vandalism that occurred in the 1990s where the star (the symbol of Communism) was the target of reactionary ire.

The concrete of the structure is faced with tiles made from the local limestone and is in a much better physical condition than a number of lapidars I’ve seen.

It’s the panel to the right of the columns which tells a story.

Martyrs’ Cemetery – Gjirokaster

The panel has images which are slightly unusual. On the extreme left hand side, immediately next to the red pillar, two men are depicted. Both are armed but what makes this unusual is that they are not in any sort of uniform. One of them is wearing a bandana around his neck, which would have been red and indicates that he is a Communist, but apart from that they are dressed as civilians.

This shouldn’t be a surprise. The Partisan army was not a state army. It didn’t have a huge infrastructure to supply it with all the equipment that a modern army normally uses. At the time that the Albanians were fighting the Fascists who had invaded the country the British were producing the uniforms but the soldiers weren’t involved, to any great extent, in the European theatre of war until most of the fighting to break the fascist power had been done. It’s just that in most of the lapidars that I’ve seen so far the fighters, overwhelmingly, are in some sort of uniform. Pictures of the guerrilla groups taken at the time indicate that uniforms were not always available to all.

Typical Partisan Group

To the right of these two partisans are the faces of eight partisans, 6 men and 2 women. This is again an unusual presentation of the story. The only other place I’ve come across the disembodied faces of clearly defined individuals is on the lapidar in Ngurrez e Madhe, to the south of Lushnje. So these are almost certainly actual images of particular people either from the Gjirokaster area or who died there.

Unfortunately, at this moment, I’m unable to identify them all but I do have an idea of some of them. To my mind the two female images are that of the ‘Two hanged Women’, Bula Naipi and Persefoni Kokëdhima.

Bula joined the youth wing of the Albanian Communist Party very soon after its foundation in November 1941. The first meeting of the Party cell in Gjirokaster was held in her home (when the country and the city were under the occupation of the Italian Fascists) and she was soon a member of the Party’s Regional Committee. She worked clandestinely organising support for the Partisans and was betrayed by the nationalist collaborators when she returned to her neighbourhood of Dunavat, close to the castle in Gjirokaster. She was captured and imprisoned in the Castle.

Dunavat – Gjirokaster

Persefoni was born in the village of Qeparo, on the coast between Himarë and Saranda. Not so far as the crow flies but there’s a few mountain ranges in the way. She was part of a Partisan group and was captured when she got wounded. She was also imprisoned in the castle.

After being tortured (giving no information) they were ‘tried’ by the collaborator organisation Balli Kombëtar and sentenced to death by hanging. Persefoni was 20 years old, Bule 24.

After liberation they were both declared “Heroine i Popullit” (Heroine of the People).

From pictures I’ve seen I think that Persefoni is the face at the top left and Bule the one in the bottom right.

Following that line of thought (that all the eight are People’s Heroes) I think that the face at the very bottom is that of Fatu Dudumi (Berberi). He was another Partisan fighter who was born in Gjirokaster.

Palorto – Gjirokaster

He joined the Partisans in 1943 but in June of that year he fell in the mountains at night and was captured, unconscious, by the Nazis. After suffering the normal torture at the hand of the Nazis he was transported to a concentration camp in Thessaloniki in Greece. Early in 1944 he was murdered by being hung in that camp. He was only 17 years old.

The only other one I think I can identify now is the face in the top right, the male with the moustache. If you look you will see that he is wearing a flat cap, the sort that was common during the 19th century, and the cap Çerçiz Topulli is often depicted wearing. The problem with this theory is that if it is him it’s not a particularly good likeness. He was born in Gjirokaster and spent most of his adult life fighting the Ottomans for national independence. He was killed in 1915 in Shkoder, in the north of the country, but in 1936 his remains were brought back to the city and he was buried in a plot a few hundred metres from the Martyrs’ Cemetery (Enver Hoxha in attendance). There’s also a statue of him in the square that bears his name in the old town.

Çerçiz Topulli – Gjirokaster

But if it is not him I’m not sure who it is. A common ‘problem’ when looking at the lapidars is that a person could be commemorated in more than one place; where they were born, where they fought in an especially important battle, and where they died. That wasn’t a problem during the Socialist period as all the information would have been to hand. Since the early 1990s that information has either been lost or if it does exist deep within different archives. So nowadays we have to complete the jigsaw by trying to find some of the pieces from different parts of the country. For example, Persefoni is not named on any of the Girokaster lapidars in different parts of the town but is in her place of birth of Qeparo.

(I’ll attempt to fill in the gaps when new information comes to light.)

The rest of the panel holds 4 images of Partisans. A male and a female in uniform and two men in ‘civilian’ clothes. All of them hold a rifle, three of them are standing and the male on the extreme right is kneeling. The uniformed Partisans have a star on their caps and are wearing a bandana, indicating their status as Communists. They have ammunition pouches around their waists and the woman has another across her shoulder.

One of the other men is dressed in the clothes of the mountains, with a loose cape across his back and is wearing the footwear of the mountains (I started to develop a bit of a foot fetish during my May 2015 trip in using the differences in footwear as an indicator of the background of the fighters). The Partisan who is kneeling, grips his rifle with both hands, the butt resting on his knee, is dressed in town clothes of the 1940s.

This bas-relief lacks the dynamism and sense of movement of some of the other lapidars but demonstrates that there were no strict rules laid down on how the events and individuals commemorated were depicted. No uniformity which is supposed to charcaterise Socialist societies (from those who know nothing of them and just trot out regurgitated anti-Communist propaganda without thinking) but quite a lot of experimentation in different forms and messages being conveyed.

The graves themselves are slightly overgrown and not cleaned as they would have been in the past but there is obviously some periodic maintenance being carried out. I thought that some of these cemeteries would have been pristine up to 1990 but as can be seen in the picture of a celebration prior to that date the grass was allowed to grow even during the Socialist period. (Here I’m obviously bringing my northern European prejudices to bear. One time in Tirana I saw the grass at the German Fascist Memorial being cut with a pair of scissors and bottled water used to clean the gravestones in the English Cemetery. Albanians celebrated their dead in a different way.)

Martyrs’ Cemetery, Gjirokaster

In looking at the names on the gravestones one thing you notice is the youth of so many of the fighters, many of them barely out of their teens (as was the case with the three of the ‘People’s Heroes’). Also there’s one to Astrit Toto. That name is on the memorial in Dema, Saranda and I assume it’s the same person.

Although it’s not the case in all Martyrs’ Cemeteries I’ve visited here in Gjirokaster there have been a few post-1990 additions. Normally, if they have been buried in these cemeteries to the fallen of the National Liberation War, they would have had some military or police connection. (The extreme example of desecration of an historical location is the Martyrs’ Cemetery in Tirana where there seems to be the ambition to fill the empty space with monarcho-fascists.) Here in Gjirokaster it looks as if a few partisans have been ousted to make room but I don’t know the exact details around such an eviction.

How to get there:

The steps to the cemetery go uphill, through the trees and bushes, on the left hand side of the road if walking north, just at the place where the buses and furgons depart, at the bottom end of Bulevardi 18 Shtatori.

GPS:

40.08600097

20.14256098

DMS:

40° 5′ 9.6035” N

20° 8′ 33.2195” E

Altitude:

207.5 m

More on Albania …..

Education Monument – Gjirokastra

Posted on 01/08/2015 by Michael

Education Monument – Gjirokaster

More on Albania …..

Education Monument – Gjirokastra

There’s a unique lapidar in Gjirokaster, in southern Albania, which was erected to commemorate the struggle for education in the Albanian language when the country was occupied by the Ottoman Empire. This monument to education is an obelisk in the shape of a stylised scroll, or a certificate rolled up, upon which are carved images depicting the struggles of the past as well as the intentions for the future. Its official name is ‘Obelisku kushtuar pionierëve të arsimit shqip’ (‘Obelisk dedicated to the pioneers of education in [the] Albanian [language]’.)

As with many of the Albanian lapidars this one is the result of the collaboration of three sculptors, Mumtaz Dhrami (Heroic Peze, Drashovice, Independence in Vlora, amongst others), Ksenofon Kostaqi (Dancers and Musicians, Gjirokaster) and Stefan Papamihali (Partisan, Gjirokaster). To the best of my knowledge this was inaugurated in 1983 (on the 40th anniversary of the liberation from the Italian Fascists – the Nazis came back for a while) when a number of other monuments were constructed throughout the town.

It’s worthwhile remembering that tiny Albania, because of its strategic position, was the object of desire for many imperialist powers, for a period of more than two thousand years. The last major imperialist power to hold sway in the country for any length of time was the Ottoman Empire based in Turkey. That empire wanted to impose total control and this included the language spoken and taught in schools. Therefore the struggle to maintain and develop the Albanian language was an anti-imperialist and progressive struggle which developed throughout the 19th and into the 29th century.

Education Monument – Zamir Mati

The obelisk is made from the local limestone and the story unravels as you look at it from the face in front of you at the top of the steps and then continues up and around in a clockwise direction.

The first carving is of disembodied hands, one holding a flaming torch, the other a book and an olive branch. These can mean slightly different things depending upon their context and location. The torch can symbolise liberty (as in the Statue in New York Harbour) or light. As this is an education monument it’s more likely representing the light that comes to an individual once they have access to education. The other hand holds both the book and the olive branch symbolising that through reading and education can come peace.

Education Symbol

Allegories are always complex. You have to take into account the situation in which Albania found itself in 1983. The break with the Chinese revisionists in the 70s had meant that the country was alone in a hostile, capitalist world. They might have wanted peace but that was going to be difficult to achieve in such circumstances.

(Allegories can also be ironic. On the back of the present US ‘dime’ (10 cent piece), you can also find a torch and olive branch depicted, supposedly representing peace and liberty. There’s been little of that for many of the US population and even less for the peoples in countries where the US considers its interests are at stake. The oak tree, which is supposed to symbolise strength, has become a club with which to beat people, both nationally and internationally.)

Above the image of the hands are the words:

‘Pionierëve të gjuhës shqipe që në vitet e errëta të robërisë mbajtën gjallë dashurinë për liri, arsim, kulturë.’

Which translates as:

‘To the Pioneers of the Albanian language who, in the dark years of captivity, kept alive the love for freedom, education and culture.’

Before continuing around the obelisk look to the building at your back and to the plaque on the wall. The top part reads:

‘Ne kete godine ne shtator te vitit 1908, pas perpjekjeve te shumta te mesonjesve e patrioteve gjirokastrite u cel e para shkolle shqipe per qytetin me emerin ‘Liria’.’

Which translates as:

‘In this building, in September 1908, after numerous attempts by the patriotic educators of Gjirokaster, the first Albanian school in the town was opened, it was called ‘Freedom’

At the bottom of the plaque it states that the building was restored in 2002 with money from the California-based Packard Humanities Institute.

On each occasion I have been to see the lapidar the building has been closed so I don’t know if it contains any more information about the event in 1908.

Back to the obelisk.

Moving clockwise we come across an image of a man and a young boy. The man is dressed in the traditional, countryside, clothing of the beginning of the 20th century, a soft cap (qylafë) on his head down to the tsarouchi shoes (with its woollen pompom to keep out the water). He is armed – no real progress for the people will come unless it is fought for – and he holds a rifle, pointing downwards, in his left hand. Around his waist he wears an ammunition belt. Across his chest are the straps of small satchels that he wears on either side.

The young boy is dressed in more modern, western style dress, more like a suit and his shoes are also from a later period. Across his shoulder is the strap for a school satchel. He represents the future. He is carrying on the legacy that the man has fought for. It’s not always the case that those who do the fighting get the benefit (the many graves in the Martyrs’ Cemeteries are witness to that) but without such sacrifices no society can move on.

The young boy is walking up steps, again an allusion to the future, going upwards and onwards. But he’s not doing this alone. The right hand of the man is resting on the boy’s shoulder, an indication of both support and encouragement, and that hand is connected, through the man’s body, to the rifle. What has been gained by arms will also have to be defended by arms. This is a motif that appears elsewhere in Albania, for example, the statue of the Partisan and Child in Borove and in the Martyrs’ Cemetery at Lushnje.

The Past and the Future

The stance of both of them is confident and they are looking up, into the distance. This is one aspect which appears a great deal in Albanian lapidars – there are few bowed heads in either despair or defeat.

But the boy isn’t just going nowhere – he’s walking into a cloud of positive words that come as a consequence of education. Words that are in a different font, of different sizes but all suggesting the results of a properly organised educational system. Here we are moving away from a strictly historical celebration of the events in 1908. A school might have been established in Gjirokaster (and other locations in the years afterwards) but it wasn’t until the liberation of the country from Fascism in 1944 that the journey along the road of free and universal education was begun. As in most countries in Eastern Europe at that time (apart from the Soviet Union) illiteracy rates were astronomical.

I’m not sure if I’ve got all the words carved into the limestone. As we move around the monument the face that takes all the bad weather, from the north, starts to show signs of wear. However. I’m fairly sure about the majority.

Shoqrite – friendship; undra – wonder; vëllezëria – brotherhood; studenti – students; lidhja – unity; puntoreve – workers; bastiljes – captivity; mesuesue – teachers; drita – light (which was also the name of the magazine of the Albanian Writers and Artists Union, with the same font); shpresa – hope; kandile – oil lamp, candle, light; bashkimi – union.

OK, some of them are not directly connected to education but these words establish the general principles and themes of a socialist state in construction, which is impossible with an uneducated population (and even difficult with) and is why the promise of universal education is a pledge by virtually all national liberation movements, wherever and whenever they might be.

These words are inscribed upon a banner which is being held by the three individuals higher up this part of the obelisk. On the right hand side of the group is what looks like an academic. He’s fairly smartly dressed, perhaps early 20th century sophisticated, but not in a western style, more a wealthy local style that is beginning to adapt to western influences. He is wearing a fez and a topcoat, is grabbing hold of the banner with his left hand and has a book clasped to his chest in his right hand (in the same way as the worker did on the mosaic of the national history museum in Tirana – before its vandalisation). I assume he represents one of those pioneers mentioned before or one of the teachers in the ‘Freedom’ school.

On the left of the group is another man. Again he’s dressed in the style of the early part of the 20th century, but he’s not an academic, he’s a fighter and has hold of the top of the barrel of a rifle in his left hand. His right hand is gripping hold of the banner with the inscribed words of the future. So what we have here are the two forces which achieved the establishment of the school in 1908.

In between is another man, but this time he’s a worker, wearing the type of protective head covering which was typical of an engineer, or someone working in a steel plant, during the socialist period. (We have to remember that, although not producing anything now, Gjirokaster was the Albanian ‘Sheffield’ during socialism, producing the cutlery needs of the country. The deserted buildings alongside the main road from the border towards Tepelene, below the old town, is all that remains of that industry.)

His right hand is stretched out and the tips of his fingers seem to be touching the barrel of the rifle and his thumb is only inches away from the banner. He’s a worker, but everyone in socialism needs to be prepared to take up arms to defend the revolution and be ready to take up the banner of the revolution’s achievements once those that have gone before leave the scene.

High above this group of three, and almost at the top of the column, the double-headed eagle is carved into the stone. There’s no star above the heads as this is a monument to an event before the establishment of the People’s Republic. Above the eagles, in large letters, is the word ‘Baskimi’, meaning union, unity. Below the birds is the word ‘Drita’, meaning light, which is in inverted commas. I’m not sure why. The magazine of that name didn’t exist until more than 50 years later, when using the inverted commas would have been valid. Below that, now fading, is the date 1908.

Continuing the clockwise trajectory there is a fighting group from the end of the 19th century. This is the part of the monument that is most exposed to the elements and some of the images are difficult to make out.

At the bottom of the group a man is kneeling, looking forward, with a rifle in his right hand, the butt resting on the ground.

Above him, at his left shoulder is a group of three, a woman and two young children. She is looking in the same direction as the man below – as I said before, there’s always this symbolism of looking forward, confidently, to the future. She wears a kapica, a long scarf wrapped loosely around her head. In her right hand she is holding the top of the barrel of a rifle. Again, as in many Albanian lapidars and friezes, the women are more often than not armed, for example the Peze War Memorial. Her left hand rests on the left shoulder of a young child. This is the older of the two children, or at least the biggest, looking at his sibling, who is looking at him/her. This is the only one in the group who isn’t looking forward. I can’t make out the gender of the children as weathering and staining are greatest at this point.

Woman and children

So here we have a woman armed yet still protective of children, whether they be hers or not. Women played an active role in Albania’s liberation struggle, to a much greater extent in the war against Fascism but also in the independence battles of the 19th and early 20th centuries. So this woman can either represent all those heroines and/or could represent the idea of Mother Albania, as seen at the Tirana Martyrs’ Cemetery or in expelling the priest and the military from the country in the Armaments Museum in Gjirokaster Castle.

In front of the woman, and slightly above her, is another independence fighter. He is depicted striding forward, always that forward motion, determined and prepared. He holds a flag pole in his right hand, the banner fluttering above his head. It’s impossible to make out if anything is inscribed on the banner, i.e., the double-headed eagle. His left arm is fully stretched out behind him and is holding a rifle at the mechanism end of the barrel, the butt of which is just behind the head of the woman. Often there will be a person in a lapidar who is looking backwards, urging others behind to come forward, as in the monument to the students and teachers just around the corner in Gjirokaster, but here he is using a gesture with his rifle to achieve the same effect.

On both the men so far mentioned you can see the Albanian version of the tsarouchi shoes, with the sheep’s wool pompom at the toe.

Above the banner, and now almost at the top of the obelisk, is a group of three men, one in the act of firing, one about to do so and the third in the process of getting his rifle to his shoulder. We only see their head and shoulders but what can be made out is the type of hat they are wearing. This is a round and flat cap, similar to that worn by Çerçiz Topulli on the statue in the square that bears his name in Old Gjirokaster.

We have now gone around the clock face and are now at the point were we started but now look up higher and see a large group of children with their teacher. Above the group, in large letters, is the word ‘Mëmëdhue’, meaning Motherland – the idea of nationalism being a strong motif, especially in monuments that commemorate those events prior to 1944, after which socialist elements tend to become more dominant.

Then we have the letters ABC, obviously representing literacy, both reading and writing. The only other monument where I have seen this, so far, is on a smaller lapidar to education in the small village of Proger, not far from Korça. (Albanian uses the Latin alphabet but there are 36 letters as opposed to 26 in English.)

Below that is a compressed scene from a school classroom. There are eight children, three girls and 5 boys. These are young children so this is a class where they are learning the basics of the Albanian language. From what I can make out they are wearing some sort of school uniform which indicates to me that the scene is from a country school after liberation as I can’t imagine matters being so organised way back in 1908 (and girls might not have had ready access to education at that time).

Three of them have writing tablets and pens whilst three have books, with the other two it’s not clear. There’s a mix of attention to the teacher being depicted. Four of them are looking at the teacher, one seems to be looking out the window to the mountains, one of the girls has her back to us, another girl is reading and one of the boys is looking straight at us as we view the scene. All but one of the children are bear-headed, and he wears a fez.

Immediately above the group of children we can make out the legs of a blackboard easel, the blackboard itself merging into the rest of the monument. The teacher, to the right of the children, is bare-headed, wears a tie and his dress would seem to fit into the idea that the scene is late rather than early 20th century. In his left hand he holds an open book and in his right hand he holds a ball of chalk as if just about to write something on the board. His index finger is pointing to the B of the letters in an obvious reference to literacy.

The final piece of decoration is a star carved into the stone at its highest point. This is immediately above the hands with the torch, book and olive branch.

Generally the monument is in a good condition and doesn’t look like it has suffered from any vandalism. Where there is some degradation it seems to have been caused by the weather, on the north facing parts of the lapidar.

An article, The problem of the origin of the Albanian People and their language, originally published in New Albania, No 4 1977, provides the background to the question of Albanian identity and the origins of the language.

Holiday in Gjirokaster – Zamir Mati

It’s also in a pleasant location. Whereas the streets of the old town can get busy, especially when large tour groups arrive in coaches for a day trip, I’ve never been to the monument when there have been more than a couple of people there. The fact that the approach is not obvious until you actually find it might be the reason for that. From the small balcony on which it stands you get a great view of both the old and the new town, as well as the mountains on either side of the River Drino valley, looking northwards in the direction of Tepelene. For a few years this would have been a good place to get a high view of the statue of Enver Hoxha that was located just a little lower down the hill (and where there are now a couple of expensive bars). Unfortunately Enver suffered a terminal attack in 1992.

Enver Hoxha, Gjirokaster

How to find it:

Go up hill from Çerçiz Topulli Square and at the junction at the top (about 100m) take the higher of the two roads on the right and then immediately the narrow road on the left. Within a few metres on the right there’s an always open door, as if going into a house. Go up these stairs and through the building – if you smell decay mixed with stale urine then you’re in the right place. Coming out into the open the steps become wider and they take you to the small plateau upon which the obelisk stands.

GPS

40.074572

20.13804104

DMS

40° 4′ 28.4592” N

20° 8′ 16.9477” E

Altitude:

318.4m