Prime Minister Edi Rama attended tonight’s memorial event dedicated to celebrating the life and legacy of Arben Xhaferi, the distinguished Albanian visionary and politician. Organized by the youth of the foundation that bears his name, the gathering brought together political representatives from across all Albanian territories.
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Prime Minister Edi Rama:
“I am glad to be here today and to see that the wish of the young men and women of the ‘Arben Xhaferi’ foundation has become a reality. They were eager to organize this event, which, as far as I know, begins tonight with this commemorative evening and then continues with several other stages.
To be honest, though, it’s not the easiest task—at least in my view—to be given the opportunity to speak about Arben Xhaferi, especially when time and obligations haven’t allowed you to prepare adequately to say something that would make you feel okay if Arben himself were listening.
Nevertheless, not wanting to miss this evening and not wanting to negotiate with the foundation’s team about my absence—an absence that could then be interpreted in all sorts of ways, but not for the true reason of feeling insufficiently prepared—I decided to share with you some words that belong to Arben Xhaferi himself, not mine.
Even today, I believe his words remain a mirror that, at best, would leave many who spend their daily lives on platforms and screens feeling less than comfortable.”
When Arbën Xhaferi was asked about his greatest dream, he replied:
“The integration of the Albanian people into the system of Western political, ethical, and cultural values.” He described this vision with a simple sentence, composed of words that may seem overused but carry a profound meaning—one that remains difficult to fully comprehend.
Another of Arbën Xhaferi’s reflections, unparalleled in its concise yet profound depiction of the Balkans’ struggles to overcome the past, is as follows: “The peoples of the Balkans suffer from an ethno-political strabismus that causes them to view one another in a distorted way.”
Reflecting on this idea, and hoping Arbën would agree, I would add something from my own experience: The real issue is not the peoples themselves but their leaders. Rather than working to cure this ethno-political strabismus, leaders often exploit and sustain it. They deliberately shift the focus away from the need for mutual understanding, redirecting attention toward the distorted views perpetuated by this strabismic mindset. In doing so, they impose a continuous cycle—not driven by the people but by their leaders—forcing the future to be viewed through the lens of the past.
For Albania—and not just Albania, but for all Albanians—I believe there is only one way to achieve what Arbën Xhaferi defined as the integration into the European system of values. This approach also represents the only way for the European value system to function effectively as a foundation of guarantees and well-being: to orient our gaze firmly toward the future and to view the past through the lens of the future. This perspective, in my view, is what makes the difference. While many eagerly proclaim that the future will be better than the past, their actions often tell a different story. In practice, too many hold the future hostage to the past.
The third and final thought I wish to highlight from Arbën Xhaferi’s words—whose body of work stands as a profound national opus that deserves not just to be read but to be reread, discussed, and deeply understood—is this: “As we live in an era of interaction between national cultures, it must be acknowledged that Albanians lack effective national representation on the international stage.”
At first glance, or upon an initial reaction, many might interpret this superficially and exclaim: He was right! We need more drums! More traditional hats! More sword dances to showcase across Europe and the world! But Arbën Xhaferi’s insight goes far deeper than mere displays of folklore. He is pointing to the absence of a modern, sophisticated representation of the Albanian identity—one that communicates our values, achievements, and aspirations in a way that resonates globally. It is not about parading symbols of the past but about embracing a forward-looking vision that positions Albanians as contributors to the shared future of Europe and the world.
In fact, Arbën Xhaferi argues that national propaganda on the international stage is something entirely different from simply closing the curtains, as we have them here today, and preaching to one another within a space that is, without a doubt, incredibly valuable and essential to preserving our national tradition. This is important for us to maintain, so that we can perform our dances here and have the whole world on the other side of these curtains hear us and applaud. But that, according to Xhaferi, is not what national representation on the global stage should be about. It is not about isolating ourselves within our own space, celebrating among ourselves, and hoping that the world will somehow take notice.
Today, I had a very special pleasure—though I must admit that the phrase “special pleasure” is part of the diplomatic lexicon of pleasant words. But in this case, it is truly a special pleasure for me whenever Ali Ahmeti comes to Tirana or whenever I have the chance to meet him elsewhere. Especially when he comes to Tirana, because when I meet Ali elsewhere, I have to ask him three times before he answers in three minutes. But when Ali is here, I don’t need to ask. He speaks, and his words are the inspiration brought by the largest illegal foundation of the liberation struggle here in Tirana. Wasn’t that the case?
Now I can say it, even though times are difficult, and we don’t know how history will judge us. Sometimes, history can feel like the old song: “I took my rifle and went to the mountains to fight for the homeland. Little did I know, poor me, that the enemy was us.”
You don’t know what to do. Even Arbën Xhaferi once wrote—if I’m not mistaken—that every nation has its heroes, its prime ministers, and those who later benefit from the heroes.
In any case, Ali, I hope you never become a hero because we need you—our path is still long. Unfortunately, the issue of the Albanian language is also intertwined in this conversation, which, at this very moment, is in an incomprehensible and unexplained context for me at the Constitutional Court of North Macedonia. I am not saying that leaders who believe in the Constitutional Courts of other countries are wrong, but I believe that the right to use the Albanian language as a civic right in North Macedonia is not a matter for the Constitutional Court. It is not an issue of laws, nor is it a matter of the temporary wills of political parties. I say *temporary* because political parties are elected once every four years, and sometimes they are on one side, sometimes on the other. Sometimes they have significant influence, other times they have none. But the Albanian language in North Macedonia is a matter of substance that has significantly helped not only to keep North Macedonia united, but also to nurture a spirit and a vision of coexistence between the two founding peoples of the country—the Macedonians and the Albanians.
This is exactly the vision Arbën Xhaferi spoke of as his greatest dream: the integration of these two peoples—the Macedonians and the Albanians—into the system of Western political, ethical, and cultural values. This is a monumental task, and it cannot be reduced to legal labyrinths, which now belong to the past. Many years ago, Arbën Xhaferi and Ali Ahmeti, along with others (but I specifically view these two as the “eagles of Ohrid”), established the foundations of peaceful coexistence and European state-building in what was then Yugoslav Macedonia and is now North Macedonia.
This was not determined by Arbën Xhaferi and Ali Ahmeti alone; it was determined by the Albanians, represented at the table by Arbën Xhaferi and the Albanians on the mountains, led by Ali Ahmeti, as well as the Macedonians, represented by their highest officials of the time (whose names I regret I don’t recall, but I do not think this is an issue for either us or them).
From this podium, from this platform, where the name of one of the greatest Albanians is written, a truly great Albanian—not a “nationalist Albanian” (to be clear)—who lived in the lands inhabited by Albanians, the trajectory of whose life is, in itself, a story worthy of a film, but to me, it also seems like a sermon. Born in Tetovo, studied philosophy in Belgrade, worked in the state-run TV in Pristina, and returned again, to where he was born, to lay a very heavy cornerstone for the state of North Macedonia. That cornerstone should not be touched. It is best to keep it clean and serve as a reference point for Albanians, for Macedonians, and for all other minorities living there because it is the stone that united us.
I believe that stone has placed us irreversibly on the path of integration into the Western system of values—political, cultural, and ethical. And with the word “ethical,” I conclude my attempt here not to appear inadequate before you, as I am confident I can adjust to your expectations, but more importantly, to avoid any dishonor to Arbën Xhaferi, who I am sure watches over us from above. I have no doubt that he smiles every time Ali Ahmeti appears to him.
Thank you.
