["Under Enver Hoxha, Albania's Stalinist dictator for almost 40 years,
the Kanun was outlawed. Blood feud killers faced execution if they were
caught. Only one blood feud killing was recorded. But since Albania
emerged from the iron rule of communism, more than 2,500 feuds have
filled cemeteries and sent families into hiding. " Just another example
of how bad the communism was? i.s.]
---
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/print/0,3858,4757996-102275,00.html
Blood feuds trap Albania in the past
Thousands forced to take refuge as medieval code targets fathers and
sons
Sophie Arie Pukë in Albania
Sunday September 21, 2003
The Observer
Bujar Laci is a hunted man. If he steps on to the streets of this
remote northern Albanian town, he knows it will only be a matter of
time before he is killed.
'I am trapped. All I can do is hope one day there will be an agreement,
so I can live again,' says Laci, a former policeman, huddled in the
modest room to which he has been confined for over three years because
of a blood feud.
In March 2000, Laci shot and killed a man while trying to break up a
brawl. He immediately found himself embroiled in a blood feud with the
family of his victim. Within hours, all 20 males in the Laci family had
to leave their schools and offices and take refuge in their homes.
'I used to have a job,' he says. 'Now we just sit like animals in a
cage.'
Under a medieval civil law known as the Kanun - revived in Albania
after the fall of communism in 1991 - the enemy family's honour can
only be repaired with more blood. Any male member of the Laci family
tall enough to lift a rifle is a legitimate target.
But the ancient social code - which holds greater sway in these
desolate mountain villages than the Koran or the Bible - defines the
family home as off-limits for revenge killings. So Laci and thousands
of other men and boys across Albania are cowering in their homes, with
enemy families prowling outside.
When schools reopened after the summer break this month, hundreds of
young boys failed to turn up, unable to risk leaving their homes. Their
wives and mothers are left to scrape a living in what is still the
poorest, most lawless corner of Europe.
Some men have taken revenge for killings over land or women that still
rankle from the communist years. Others have started a more modern kind
of feud, shooting human traffickers for luring their daughters and
sisters into slave prostitution.
'Everyone knows the law doesn't work here. You can bribe your way out
in no time,' one woman says. 'The only way to make killers really pay
is to take back the blood.'
The cash-strapped government seems incapable of cracking down on the
feuds. Some people have called for the return of the death penalty,
abolished in 1995.
Under Enver Hoxha, Albania's Stalinist dictator for almost 40 years,
the Kanun was outlawed. Blood feud killers faced execution if they were
caught. Only one blood feud killing was recorded. But since Albania
emerged from the iron rule of communism, more than 2,500 feuds have
filled cemeteries and sent families into hiding.
The Kanun is a complicated set of rules thought to have been
introduced by the hero Lek Dukagjin, Lord of Dagmo and Zadrima, who
fought the Turks until 1472 before fleeing to Italy. Tribal leaders
used the code to mediate truces between rival families.
Under the ancient code, if a man finds his wife with another man, he
has the right to shoot them both, but only with one bullet. If a woman
in his family is killed, he must kill a woman in the enemy family, or
their dog. Both are considered worth half a man.
'If you follow the rules strictly, it is almost impossible to carry out
a perfect killing. The problem is the locals have a rather loose
interpretation of the rules,' said Gjin Marku, a 'blood mediator' whose
Reconciliation Committee has helped settle scores of feuds.
As Albania emerges from lawlessness, economic glimmers of hope are
putting fresh layers of paint on the houses of the capital, Tirana. But
the countryside is a long way from developing its 'mobile phone'
generation.
'The danger is that as people throng to the cities looking for work,
life in the mountains will move backwards. The blood feuds are a sign
of this,' said Mustaq Qureshi, head of the World Food Programme (WFP)
operation in Albania, which provides food and training to families 'in
blood'.
For many of those trapped in blood feuds, the only escape is to leave
the country. But even then they live in fear of being tracked down.
Dile Nobreca, living on state benefit of £11 and 60kg of WFP flour each
month, cannot even dream of moving beyond the dirt track where she
lives. She has not seen her husband since he fled into the mountains
years ago, having killed a neighbour in a dispute. Every year, as her
four sons edge closer to gun-carrying age, the enemy family reminds her
that she owes blood.
'There's nothing I can do. I just tell them to shoot my husband, not my
sons,' she says.
Guardian Unlimited © Guardian Newspapers Limited 2003
the Kanun was outlawed. Blood feud killers faced execution if they were
caught. Only one blood feud killing was recorded. But since Albania
emerged from the iron rule of communism, more than 2,500 feuds have
filled cemeteries and sent families into hiding. " Just another example
of how bad the communism was? i.s.]
---
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/print/0,3858,4757996-102275,00.html
Blood feuds trap Albania in the past
Thousands forced to take refuge as medieval code targets fathers and
sons
Sophie Arie Pukë in Albania
Sunday September 21, 2003
The Observer
Bujar Laci is a hunted man. If he steps on to the streets of this
remote northern Albanian town, he knows it will only be a matter of
time before he is killed.
'I am trapped. All I can do is hope one day there will be an agreement,
so I can live again,' says Laci, a former policeman, huddled in the
modest room to which he has been confined for over three years because
of a blood feud.
In March 2000, Laci shot and killed a man while trying to break up a
brawl. He immediately found himself embroiled in a blood feud with the
family of his victim. Within hours, all 20 males in the Laci family had
to leave their schools and offices and take refuge in their homes.
'I used to have a job,' he says. 'Now we just sit like animals in a
cage.'
Under a medieval civil law known as the Kanun - revived in Albania
after the fall of communism in 1991 - the enemy family's honour can
only be repaired with more blood. Any male member of the Laci family
tall enough to lift a rifle is a legitimate target.
But the ancient social code - which holds greater sway in these
desolate mountain villages than the Koran or the Bible - defines the
family home as off-limits for revenge killings. So Laci and thousands
of other men and boys across Albania are cowering in their homes, with
enemy families prowling outside.
When schools reopened after the summer break this month, hundreds of
young boys failed to turn up, unable to risk leaving their homes. Their
wives and mothers are left to scrape a living in what is still the
poorest, most lawless corner of Europe.
Some men have taken revenge for killings over land or women that still
rankle from the communist years. Others have started a more modern kind
of feud, shooting human traffickers for luring their daughters and
sisters into slave prostitution.
'Everyone knows the law doesn't work here. You can bribe your way out
in no time,' one woman says. 'The only way to make killers really pay
is to take back the blood.'
The cash-strapped government seems incapable of cracking down on the
feuds. Some people have called for the return of the death penalty,
abolished in 1995.
Under Enver Hoxha, Albania's Stalinist dictator for almost 40 years,
the Kanun was outlawed. Blood feud killers faced execution if they were
caught. Only one blood feud killing was recorded. But since Albania
emerged from the iron rule of communism, more than 2,500 feuds have
filled cemeteries and sent families into hiding.
The Kanun is a complicated set of rules thought to have been
introduced by the hero Lek Dukagjin, Lord of Dagmo and Zadrima, who
fought the Turks until 1472 before fleeing to Italy. Tribal leaders
used the code to mediate truces between rival families.
Under the ancient code, if a man finds his wife with another man, he
has the right to shoot them both, but only with one bullet. If a woman
in his family is killed, he must kill a woman in the enemy family, or
their dog. Both are considered worth half a man.
'If you follow the rules strictly, it is almost impossible to carry out
a perfect killing. The problem is the locals have a rather loose
interpretation of the rules,' said Gjin Marku, a 'blood mediator' whose
Reconciliation Committee has helped settle scores of feuds.
As Albania emerges from lawlessness, economic glimmers of hope are
putting fresh layers of paint on the houses of the capital, Tirana. But
the countryside is a long way from developing its 'mobile phone'
generation.
'The danger is that as people throng to the cities looking for work,
life in the mountains will move backwards. The blood feuds are a sign
of this,' said Mustaq Qureshi, head of the World Food Programme (WFP)
operation in Albania, which provides food and training to families 'in
blood'.
For many of those trapped in blood feuds, the only escape is to leave
the country. But even then they live in fear of being tracked down.
Dile Nobreca, living on state benefit of £11 and 60kg of WFP flour each
month, cannot even dream of moving beyond the dirt track where she
lives. She has not seen her husband since he fled into the mountains
years ago, having killed a neighbour in a dispute. Every year, as her
four sons edge closer to gun-carrying age, the enemy family reminds her
that she owes blood.
'There's nothing I can do. I just tell them to shoot my husband, not my
sons,' she says.
Guardian Unlimited © Guardian Newspapers Limited 2003