Fehmi Ajvazi, an eminent author from Kosovo, has shared his book ‘In the Kingdom of Death’ published in Albanian in 2012 in Pristina, and in Romanian in 2019, and was translated from Albanian to English 

Fehmi Ajvazi author

[In March 1999, the Serbian regime blanketed Kosovo with a contingent of 120,000 regular police, military, and civilian paramilitary forces. Just about two weeks before NATO’s intervention in Kosovo began, the region was surrounded on all sides, while pockets of the interior (villages and towns) were hit with arrests, liquidations, and massacres. Kosovo became a reservation. A kingdom called the “Kingdom of Death” established authority everywhere! However, some areas were controlled by insurgent liberation forces, and in some places, Serbian forces couldn’t penetrate. Well, the hatred between Serbs and Albanians was the same, but the bullets were the same too: they brought death to everyone, and it was no problem for the “bullet” whether the target was Albanian or Serbian. I mean, the forces of the Kosovo Liberation Army held some territory and kept it free! But about ten days before NATO planes launched their attack in their battle for Kosovo, Albanian insurgents managed to have the world’s most powerful force as their ally: the NATO alliance. However, no one had managed to master a pact with death. Just a few days before March 24th, the “Lady of Death” was the ruler of Kosovo, in reality, she was the ruler of the Albanian citizens of this extremely small territory! And for the third time in history, the state of Serbia wanted nothing more and nothing less than: the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo. Over 1 million residents before March 24, 1999, challenged “this kingdom” by saying, “Here we are, your power is not the power of God!” I had decided to stay, not to leave. I was a journalist, but also a creator. And so, I had no idea what dilemmas lay in this direction, despite the open threats from the Serbs, and I knew well that they would try to wash their hands of us like Pontius Pilate! Regardless of every situation and circumstance, I sacrificed to be a witness to a time and a history without parallel! Yes, a witness…! And everything I have said and written about literary-historical conditions is in this book – a testimony. Therefore, this book is a source and my personal experience of a time I pray will never be repeated – anywhere. Just as I pray for the souls of those who did not come out alive in this “kingdom of death” in the third millennium! Read the truth about Kosovo…  Author]

April, 4th

Kosovo remains distant. Distant, in the north. In the bosom of beloved Kosovo, hundreds of thousands of brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, children and elderly, are struggling, hour by hour, between life and death, within the waves of the Serbian killing “ocean.” Only God knows what is happening there. Neither I nor my wife know anything about any of our family members who live mainly in Pristina and Gjilan – parents, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins. They, too, know nothing about us.

The life I must lead now is, for me, a routine of tedious days. Empty. A void, in the most explicit sense. Initially, I’ve dismissed any dilemmas about heading somewhere in Europe or even farther away. I don’t want to deal with this issue, with this dilemma. Kosovo, from where I am, is geographically close. Spiritually, even closer. The images of it, those essential images, cannot be erased from my mind by anyone or anything. I don’t want to go anywhere else, so why should I? Why take that step? To spend days and months in better shelter, to benefit from the temptations and generosity of various states, organizations, associations? No, I can’t and won’t take that step. Neither by accident nor on purpose. I won’t move from here. Certainly not out of hatred, lack of respect, or unappreciation for all those who have mobilized to help us, but because here, where I am, I feel different, I feel closer to my beloved Kosovo. Absolutely, that’s how I want to feel.

So far, I haven’t joined the frontlines with a gun in my hand, but if this war continues, I will join the Kosovo Liberation Army

BLACE, NORTH MACEDONIA: Ethnic Albanian refugees from Kosovo board buses in Blace for permanent shelter and safety from war-torn Kosovo, April 1999

I want to be, in every aspect, spiritually and physically as close as possible to my people, as close as possible to my homeland. I thank everyone: my fellow countrymen, wherever they are and wherever they live, the Euro-Balkan and global nations and communities, various states, organizations, governments, the media, etc., for the mobilization and sacrifice they have made and are making for us during these miserable days we are going through. I, my loved ones, in every aspect, want to remain as close as possible to Kosovo. Whoever wants to – let them go further. Decide for yourselves. Do what you want. So far, I haven’t joined the frontlines with a gun in my hand, but if this war continues, I will join the KLA (Kosovo Liberation Army). I feel handicapped (and I always will) because I didn’t join from the beginning, but some things, a person can never predict until the end.

Macedonia’s Anguish

From this southern corner, facing the Balkan borders, close to the ancient Illyro-Roman road called the “Via Egnatia,” the imagination of my possible physical and spiritual “comfort” is only the essence of a desperate and ruinous core. It is a recurring totality, both as desperate as it is destructive. But this is my current fate, just as it is for my entire people. A “fate” that stems from the missing world of human and collective-national freedom.

It’s been over a month now since I’ve been here with my wife and my son, Etnik, in a large flat village, a few kilometers west of the well-known city of Struga. In reality, the village is a separate municipality, a municipality that was established relatively recently during the decentralization process in the Republic of Macedonia. However, it hasn’t yet fully assumed the urban administrative framework that would make it a complete town in many aspects. Perhaps it can be called a mini-town.

BLACE, NORTH MACEDONIA: A Macedonian policeman stands guard at the border village of Blace, some 25 km north of Skopje, as he guards thousands of Albanian refugees from Kosovo’s capital Pristina, Saturday 03 April 1999. The Macedonian government decided Saturday to turn away 50,000 Kosovars after concluding that a new influx of refugees could trigger economic chaos and political unrest in the small Balkan state.

This is my place, actually my family’s refuge, in the capacity of being expelled from Kosovo. The Macedonian authorities officially refer to us as “begallci,” or “those who fled,” meaning “the displaced.” They don’t directly call us “refugees.” This expression “those who fled” might sound better, however, it carries with it the official-institutional Macedonian expectation, one that has been formed with many doubts and fears, and has even taken on a hateful aspect. The Macedonian police have mistreated us “arrivals” or “those who fled” several times, trying not to attract too much attention. Macedonia didn’t want Albanians from Kosovo to enter its territory, regardless of the circumstances.

The Macedonian authorities officially refer to us as “begallci,” or “those who fled,” meaning “the displaced.” They don’t directly call us “refugees”

For various reasons, this attitude, in a way, is also the known historical-continuity attitude of Macedonian administrative and state policy toward Albanians everywhere. Put plainly, it’s a Macedonian grassroots attitude that has preserved the core of hatred and nationalism across various dimensions. The fact that the Republic of Macedonia peacefully separated from the former Yugoslavia six years ago and declared itself a sovereign, parliamentary-democratic state, with the support of Albanians living within its territory and the support of Albania, doesn’t change this attitude. The spirit of hatred in Macedonian politics, with racist and sectarian premises, hasn’t disappeared. This spirit springs from the ideological fountains of pan-Slavic nationalism and is directly influenced by Serbian chauvinism, which has been historically cultivated in Skopje as well.

Exploring this anti-Albanian Macedonian spirit has its unmistakable premises in our reception and treatment. The border crossing at Blace, which is close to Skopje, today reflects not only Macedonian hatred but also ignorance, contempt, fear, racism, nationalism, etc. Political analysts call these Macedonian behaviors “known phobias,” while various writers call them “nationalist cynicism.” Blace has become an obligatory “camp zone” in the middle of two territories (Kosovo-Macedonia). Within this inter-border zone, meaning in the neutral zone, thousands and thousands of Albanian residents from Kosovo have gathered and are trying to cross into Macedonia. In this in-between space, in fact, in the no man’s land, they have been gathered for days and weeks and aren’t allowed to cross into Macedonian territory. Or they are allowed to cross in limited numbers. The situation of these displaced people is extremely pitiable. In one way or another, the international factor has ordered Macedonia to allow as many displaced people from Kosovo as possible to cross into Macedonian territory, and as a result, five camps for the displaced have been opened: Camp Stenkovec 1, Stenkovec 2, the camp in Neprosteno, etc. The situation in Blace, due to the large influx of the displaced, remains almost unchanged.

BLACE, NORTH MACEDONIA : Some 3.000 Albanian refugees wait in line in the temporary refugee camp in Blace, to be transported to the camp of Cegrane, on Thursday 06 May 1999. The border was closed for refugees 06 May by Macedonia authorities with the explanation that all the refugee camps in Macedonia were overcrowded.

People have waited and are still waiting for days and weeks to cross the border. The Macedonian authorities justify these “waits,” but it is now clear that these “waits” are caused intentionally through the deliberate inaction of various Macedonian official organs in carrying out their duties efficiently. It also appears as a result of Macedonian policies of hatred and contempt. The displaced are forced to suffer for days and nights in various border areas like Jazhincë, Stanqiq, and so on.

They are compelled to endure the open sky, exposed to harsh cold and rain. They have nothing else to seek refuge in. They cannot turn back as they would face the Serbian knife and bullet once again. In the cold and rain, under the open sky, people are plucking olives to survive. They endure for days without adequate food, healthcare, clothing, hygiene, and more. The worst part is that these people, utterly terrorized by various Serbian forces, just a few meters away from the border areas, are treated with hatred and contempt by the Macedonian police and military. Thus, they are not treated in accordance with the situation created. They are not treated as they should be, with goodwill, humanity, empathy, and more. Instead, they are held under pressure and halted from entering Macedonian territory. They are almost ghettoized, like in a miserable quarantine. Moreover, the worst of all evils is that the displaced need to escape from the violence and terror of the Serbs, from death that comes not from the sky but from the ground, from death brought by various Serbian forces.

Bllaca has turned into a kind of concentration camp. In this buffer zone (like nowhere else), rubber truncheons are also used. Refined ways of bribery (myth) are also used.

People, exhausted and endlessly terrorized, are allowed to enter Macedonian territory under strict administrative-police measures. They are allowed to enter in a selective manner (one by one or in very small groups) and are allowed entry while being discriminated against in various forms. Displaced families are torn apart, and people try to connect with each other, to reunite since they have either lost each other on the way or have been separated at the border. Therefore, people try to use phone connections, media, and other means to learn about each other’s fate, to come together again. Here are some calls of this nature made in the media, among thousands of others: “Besa and Besnik Dushi are in Skopje and are looking for their sister Magribe Dushi from Prizren, while their parents are in Pristina: tel: 091/177-420. Ali Aliu is looking for the Aliu family from Sadovina, Viti municipality: tel: 004990182081. We kindly ask anyone who has information about Ferit Begolli to contact Bashkim Rexha at tel. 070/234-982. Hasan Halili from Vushtrri is looking for his sons, Hysen and Abdyl. Any information about them can be reported to tel. 096/832-092 in Banjat të Dibrës. Fahrush and Ylbere Neziri are looking for their families, Neziri and Aliu: tel: 096/68 – 883, Tetesh i Epërm- Struga,” reports the daily newspaper “Fakti” in Albanian, dated April 27, 1999, published in Skopje.

SKOPJE, NORTH MACEDONIA: A Kosovo Albanian woman with her children, refugees newly arrived from Kosovo, sit behind a fence in Blace at the Yugoslav-Macedonian border, some 20km north of Skopje, Thursday 2 April 1999.

Bllaca has turned into a kind of concentration camp. In this buffer zone (like nowhere else), rubber truncheons are also used. Refined ways of bribery (myth) are also used. Bribery like this is a plunder in need. The worst of all is the presence of a certain Macedonian phobia, inferior and unwelcoming attitudes, ignorance, and contempt, etc. And this “presence” not only causes sorrow and despair but also certain problems. Something that has struck me and continues to seem very surprising is the massive indifference of Macedonian citizens. They, Macedonian citizens, have not made any gestures, any moves, any human and humane signs and actions to be there for us, even a little, during these really tough times for us. They have not moved, as they should have, regardless of the state’s political approaches and official stances, police, administrative measures, etc. Such indifference from Macedonians, for me, is and will always be unjustifiable. What’s even more surprising to me is the fact that Macedonia is inhabited, to a large extent, by ethnic Albanians. And we, the Albanians of Kosovo, are brothers and sisters in language and blood with their immediate neighbors: the Albanians living here in Macedonia. Macedonian citizens haven’t left their homes to welcome us, and they haven’t even opened their gates. On the contrary, not a single one of them has dared to open their doors to shelter even a single Albanian from Kosovo. While we are thousands. In these difficult and tragic times, we need open roads, open doors, open homes, and above all, open hearts. Oh, more than anything, we need open hearts.

People: we, the Albanians of Kosovo (in these difficult times), need our pain to be eased a little, our visible and invisible wounds to be alleviated, our deep wounds to be healed somewhat. We didn’t come to Macedonia for a weekend. We don’t currently need glasses filled with champagne, luxury, bouquets of laurels, but we need kind words, greetings, smiles, shelter from any Macedonian citizen, from any Macedonian community. Macedonian citizens, on the other hand, are withdrawn and indifferent; they seem stunned. They have not moved (since March 24th) in any direction to help us. It has been almost two months since Macedonia has been dealing with refugees from Kosovo, and I haven’t heard that any Macedonian citizen has come out into the streets and said to a displaced Kosovo resident: “Welcome!” “How are you?” “Did you survive…?” or at least offered a piece of bread, a sip of water, a comforting word, a smile.

However, in such circumstances and dangers as we are facing today, humanitarian and humane aid should not be doubted. It has not been and is not in the human consciousness (if his kind has not reached the point of extinction) to not offer help to another, regardless of race, nationality, religion, etc.  (Continues)

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Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"