Forsaken Albania

By Artan Lame
Albania at the begining of the 20th Century. One of the countless myths that surround us and that we should definitely review and blow the dust off, is the one about the relationship the Albanian has to arms. From the hundreds and hundreds of photographs and pictures that have been through my hands over the years, I have begun to perceive a shift in the relationship between the Albanian and arms, particularly towards the closing of the 19 Century and up until the years of World War Two. Economic slump, on-going impoverishment, social distinctions that deepened, the reforms of the ottoman Empire and countrless other factors, began to influence a “divorce” between a good part of Albanian society and weapons, creating a more formal relationship, at least for a good part of society. In view of the fact that if one opens up a subject that has to do with these myths, then this is always an invitation for debate, I will devote the next edition to explore deeper into this phenomenon.
In the bigger photograph is an Albanian dressed in folk costume from the South (possibly Gjirokastra), surrounded by the weapons handed down to him from his forefathers. He has crammed into the sash of his belt and has slung over his shoulder all the old weapons he has found in the cellar of his house. A component of this complex is a Turkish sword that dates back to the end of the 18th Century, a cleaning rod for pistols and a gun powder pouch, both items belonging to the beginning of the 19th Century, but unfortunately the actual pistols are missing, a ceremonial breast sash for military parades of the Turkish Army of the second half of the 19th Century, a silver charm holder, a hunting horn for storing gun-powder, a pair of Turkish military binocculars, a leather belt dating back to the end of the 19th Century and other such paraphanelia. Although the lapse in time between our warrior and the arms he bristles with spans something between fifty to one hundred years, it does look as though he has lost all real contact with them. The arms are arranged randomly and pushed so haphazardly into his clothing that the individual looks more like something to hang weapons on rather than a fighter ready to go to battle.
Photograph Two is possibly something more significant. Three armed men, posing in front of the tent that every photography studio owned. From my experience, my findings indicate that the majority of photographers also kept a selection of weapons in their studios as “accessories” if customers wished to pose “armed.” In this case, it is quite obvious that three of the subjects photographed have no connection at all to the arms they hold in their hands, in a very artifical and ostentatious manner. Their very tattered attire indicates their social standing and financial situation, which certainly would not allow for arms, so one of the ways to make this dream come true of holding some weapons, would be to visit a studio and have their pictures taken.
In photograph three, there is a similar position to the second photograph, but the subjects obviously belong to a higher social class. They appear to be feudal chieftains from the North who had no problem at all in bearing arms and there is a big difference in social status between them and the subjects in the second photo.Like content children they openly bear their weapons like children do their toys. The first one is even holding two “toys.” One is in his belt, the other he is holding in his hand. The man with the moustache, to the left, holds a ivory handled pistol, like those Zog ordered in Belgium and, because he knew their mentality, he would gift to the feudal leaders with the greatest pleasure. This helps to date this photo-somewhere in the mid thirties.