Krujë and Skenderbeg

In Albanians’ sense of their history, a uniquely significant position is occupied by Skenderbeg, the preeminent national hero. His statue stands in prominent places in capital cities around the Albanian-inhabited areas of the Balkans, in Tirana, Prishtina and Skopje, and elsewhere. It is hard to think of a European country where a single historical figure holds such an important place in the national consciousness. For a small nation, ruled and dominated by others more powerful for much of their history, often seen as occupying a peripheral region, isolated from the main currents of European history, the memory of Skenderbeg is an affirmation for Albanians of their self-worth. They too produced a great hero, who played a significant role in the affairs of the continent. Despite their frequent disappointments, the example of Skenderbeg continues to provide inspiration.

Statue of Skenderbeg, Tirana

Born Gjergj Kastrioti, Skenderbeg was the name given him by the Turks, meaning in Turkish, roughly, Lord Alexander, it is presumed after Alexander the Great, a reference to his prowess as a military commander. Skenderbeg lived in the 15t Century, when the Ottomans were extending and consolidating their rule in the Balkans. Following his father’s submission to the empire, Skenderbeg served with distinction as a soldier of the Sultan before turning to rebellion. Instrumental in forming the League of Lezhë, a town in northern Albania, then under Venetian rule, for two decades Skenderbeg led Albanian resistance to the Ottomans from a base in his hilltop redoubt of Krujë, not far from Tirana. He led a guerrilla campaign and withstood sieges, putting off the extension of Ottoman rule until after his death.

Today, Krujë is a pleasant little town, with a small Ottoman-style bazaar, now mainly given over to selling tourist souvenirs. The fortress’s defensive value was appreciated also by the Turks, and much of what one sees today dates from the Ottoman period rather than from Skenderbeg’s time. Particularly fine is a beautifully maintained 18th-century house inside the castle walls, which had once accommodated the Ottoman commander of the fortress. The original decoration, including ornate wooden ceilings and simple yet exquisite murals, is a striking example of Ottoman style. Unlike the open verandas of the houses in Berat and Gjirokaster, here the gallery is enclosed by a tightly latticed wooden screen, through which the occupants could see out, but outsiders could not see in. Did this perhaps reflect the practice of a stricter version of Islam, with its preoccupation with hiding a house’s womenfolk away from view? Displayed photographs of the bazaar from the beginning of the 20th century showed women completely covered, burka-like.

18th-century house, Krujë castle

The castle contains the Skenderbeg Museum, opened in 1980s. The Hoxha regime eagerly tapped into the cult of Skenderbeg. A 1970 novel by the great Albanian writer Ismail Kadare, ‘The Seige’, described an Ottoman siege of an unnamed Albanian fortress in Skenderbeg’s time. The book was published in the aftermath of the 1968 Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. Hoxha’s rule had nothing in common with the suppressed Prague Spring, except that Hoxha feared Albania might face a similar fate. The clampdown on the Prague Spring sparked heightened paranoia in the Albanian regime, which responded by building the thousands of defensive bunkers that once peppered the Albanian countryside. Kadare’s novel portrayed a defiant Albania, led by Skenderbeg, standing up to and defying the mighty Ottomans. Of course, Albania ultimately succumbed, albeit after Skenderbeg’s death, and in that sense the book’s message for the 20th Century was ambiguous.

The museum contains surviving documents signed by Skenderbeg, his correspondence with European rulers. Skenderbeg was lionised in much of Europe for his feat of withstanding, with few resources or men, the Ottoman Empire for so long, as a defender of Christendom and of European civilisation. However, many of the exhibits appear to have more to do with ‘creating’ history rather than recording it. Concrete knowledge of Skenderbeg and others involved in the resistance is limited, lost in the mists of time, and certainly many of the pictures and busts of people from that time are based on imagination. Such embellishment, selectiveness and fabrication is a feature of many Albanian museums. Perhaps it reflects a need for a small nation to give itself a history of which it could be more proud. But Skenderbeg’s story was remarkable enough without the need for embellishment. A (much embellished) history of Skenderbeg was written by Marin Barleti at the beginning of the 16th century, and was subsequently translated into several languages. Not a peripheral state, Albania under Skenderbeg was at the forefront of the defence of Europe.