Pledge fever

A national frenzy has broken out over Edi Rama’s “Besa,” the solemn pledge at the heart of his new government document. The protest’s many leaders are competing to tell him they will not give him their word. They are so thrilled by the idea that Rama has asked for their loyalty that, for a moment, you might think the revolution has achieved its goal. They have already begun commenting on the “Besa 1” document before many Socialist leaders have even read it.

Then come the journalists who support the protest. They are just as excited. Besides their daily calls not to give Rama their word, they go further, warning the protest leaders that any pledge to him would amount to betraying Albania.

Then come the old Socialists, naturally angry with Rama. They call him untrustworthy because, when he took over the Socialist Party, he removed Fatos Nano’s people and replaced them with his own. Their solution is to bring Nano’s people back—the same people who inherited an overwhelming mandate in 1997 and left office two terms later branded as thieves. Rama’s people, apparently, do not know how to steal properly. The old professionals should take charge again.

Then there are the Socialists themselves. Rama has handed them the document and is waiting for their response. They face an even greater problem, because each of them suspects it was written personally against him. But that is the least of their worries. The real question is what they will propose and what the prime minister expects them to propose.

In the middle of this national frenzy, I was driving back to Tirana from the south shortly before noon on Friday when a man by the roadside raised his hand and asked for a lift.

As soon as he got into the car, he recognised me and seemed surprised that I had stopped.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To Tirana. Can we make it by six?”

“Easily. Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m going to the protest.”

“Very good. Don’t worry. We’ll make it.”

“Where do you work?”

“I don’t anymore. I’m retired. But I want to go to the protest. God willing, something will happen and this country will change. I’m doing it for the children. We old people have had our time.”

“Something will certainly change. It is too hot now, but I think something may happen from September.”

“I hope you’re right. I haven’t seen you on television lately. Bushati is still appearing.”

“Yes. We have sent him to lead the revolution. I’m underground, working behind the lines.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Where are your children?” I asked. “Are they unemployed or living abroad?”

“No, no. They both have jobs. They are doing well and are settled. But perhaps things could get even better.”

“Where do they work?”

“My son heads the local military office. My daughter works as accountant at the municipality. My son-in-law is a director at the Ministry of Finance. I’m not quite sure what he does, but Ben Ahmetaj arranged it for me.”

“Very good. You really are a man of principle, going to the protest because of your beliefs. I thought perhaps you wanted to find jobs for your children.”

“No, no. The children are fine. But why shouldn’t they move up like everyone else and get something better?”

“Try to get closer to the protest leaders. They may win and then sack your children.”

“I have tried, but I still don’t know the main ones. I stay near the edge of the crowd. One day, I was standing close to Dashamir Shehi. He told me: ‘God willing, something good will happen.’”

“What work did you do?”

“I was a chauffeur for senior officials during communism. I finished my career as the prefect’s driver. I did well, but God willing, something will happen now and we will get rid of these people.”

“Yes, something will certainly happen.”

“Is Edi Rama not afraid someone might kill him? They are making a lot of threats.”

“I don’t know. But it seems the Socialists have his back.”

“I know that. But God willing, the protesters will bring him down. They have America, Europe, Erdoğan and the Greeks behind them.”

I dropped him outside the university and pointed him towards the square.

For almost three hours in the car, we discussed and insulted practically every Socialist and Democrat in the country. The irony was that, while we delivered our grand political analysis, the car radio was carrying debates about the pledge Rama had asked the Socialists to consider.

I kept thinking that, later that evening, this man would return to the homes of his children, all comfortably employed in the public administration. I am very curious to know how Rama’s pledge is supposed to work in his case.

In Labëria, they put it more bluntly: “F* your pledge.”