Beqaj's public shaming: The opposition's hypocritical approach to justice

For 48 hours, former government minister Ilir Beqaj—under investigation but not yet sentenced—endured public humiliation, handcuffed and escorted under heavy security to testify before a parliamentary committee. This unnecessary show of force implied he might flee, though he has complied with all court-imposed conditions to date.

Beqaj’s appearance in handcuffs, tightly held by security officers, was followed by relentless public attacks led by the committee chair, Democratic Party MP Albana Vokshi. Instead of seeking his testimony, Vokshi’s intention appeared to be to publicly disgrace him.

It is worth noting that Ilir Beqaj’s arrest is not related to his handling of government contracts for sterilizing medical equipment during his time as Health Minister. Instead, he faces an abuse-of-power charge that could be easily disproven. His current arrest stems from actions by one of his assistants, who reportedly took conference attendees to a restaurant allegedly owned by Beqaj. However, we won’t focus on the merits of these allegations; our concern here is with the public humiliation Beqaj has endured.

Vokshi is a member of the Albanian opposition—the same group that denounces the justice system when it targets their leaders but applauds when it goes after their rivals. This is the same opposition that called on Albanians to protest against what they labeled as the “forceful detention” of Ilir Meta, even demanding the resignation of the Interior Minister. Now, they treat a political opponent, Beqaj, with even greater arrogance. While they protested police force in Meta’s case, they showed no hesitation in mocking Beqaj for being escorted to testify in handcuffs.

As if this weren’t enough, they ignored his testimony for 48 hours, publicly insulting him simply because he was prepared to defend himself and challenge the opposition’s allegations.

If I were in Beqaj’s position, I would have refused to testify altogether, opting to return to jail rather than endure this public humiliation. I would have preferred a new sentence over being subjected to the scorn of a person who, given only a little power, has shown how quickly they can turn it into a tool of cruelty.

Once Beqaj began to gain public sympathy, the opposition attempted to create a diversion, claiming they felt threatened by his presence. Their response was to order him back to jail, suggesting they no longer needed his testimony. Essentially, he was paraded in handcuffs before the public, only to be accused of threatening his opponents.

Vokshi even went so far as to mock him by referring to him as the “six-foot-tall gentleman,” refusing to address him by name. By this logic, one might suggest that the “six-foot-wide lady” values herself in horizontal measurements as much as she reduces Beqaj to his vertical ones.

It is hard say how genuinely threatened Albana Vokshi felt by the protest of a man she was publicly humiliating at 2 a.m., nor how intimidated Democrat MP, Ina Zhupa was by Beqaj pointing a finger in her direction. However, it’s clear that neither security officers during the communist regime nor Nazi officials in Hitler’s Germany humiliated those who surrendered to justice as Mrs. Vokshi and Mrs. Zhupa have done to a former colleague.

Those who still look to Sali Berisha—who delivers speeches from his apartment under house arrest for charges of theft and murder, hoping to inspire his supporters—have publicly targeted someone facing far lesser allegations. Compared to Berisha’s crimes, the accusations against Beqaj seem almost trivial.

Mrs. Vokshi and Mrs. Zhupa face no threat from Ilir Beqaj; instead, they risk public condemnation, becoming examples of how neither women, mothers, nor MPs should behave.

The article initially appeared in Albanian titled: "Zonja “Dy metra e gjerë” përballë zotrisë 'dy metra i gjatë'"