When Haxhi Hafiz Sabri Koci entered the Albanian prison labor camp system, the youngest of his six children was just six years old. When Sabri Koci saw him again, he was a grown man of 27. "When they released me, I didn't know my children," says the mufti (chief imam) of Albania without bitterness. "My family could never afford to visit me because I was always kept too far away from where they lived."

A frail man of 79 with an ever-ready twinkle in his eye warmly welcomed my companion and me into his modest office in the center of Tirana, the capital of Albania. His face is marked by lines and strains and his fingers are damaged and deformed from years of hard work in the mines. During our conversation, tea and dates were brought in. The dates, it turned out, had been brought back from a recent visit to Kuwait. As we said goodbye, he insisted that we take all the dates with us.
He was born into a poor family in a village near Shkoder in northern Albania. His father had spent most of his working life in Greece and died before Sabri Koci was a year old. It was a struggle for his mother and grandparents to keep him in the local school, which was attached to the mosque. A teacher there, noticing his clear voice and zeal, hired him for the services. The mayor of Shkoder, who occasionally visited the mosque, recognized the ten-year-old's exceptional intelligence and convinced his mother to allow him to continue his education in Shkoder at the expense of the mayor and two local merchants. Although he was eager to learn, Sabri Koci admits that it was not easy as a village boy to be suddenly transferred to a foreign city.

To contribute to the cost of his education, the young scholar learned the trade of an electrician, a skill that was of great use to him during his years in the labor camps. Shkoder, which had 30 mosques in those days, was a center of Muslim scholarship. His education was not that of a formal college, but was provided by a series of learned imams. He learned Arabic and became a hafiz: someone who can recite the entire Koran by heart.

By 1966, the communist government under Enver Hoxha, increasingly influenced by the Chinese model, began to intensify its campaign against all forms of religion. All were persecuted, whether Muslim or Christian. The harassment of Imam Koci increased when he was suddenly asked to move from place to place. Since his family was in Shkoder, he finally asked if he could return there. 'You can go to Shkoder,' the authorities told him, 'if you promise not to talk about religion. They also said that he was no longer allowed to wear imam robes. 'I decided to go my own way,' he says simply.

The consequences of such defiant behavior were not long in coming. A series of accusations were invented against him. These ranged from 'economic sabotage' to 'national treason'. He told the tribunal that he did not need a lawyer as they had already decided he was guilty. He was sentenced to 22 years in prison with hard labor. His family home, which provided shelter for his wife, six children and his in-laws, was confiscated by the state along with all his books and possessions. His wife had to do hard agricultural work and his children were banned from attending school.
It was unimaginably hard,' he says. At first they tried to force him into submission by beating him. For a few days, he admits, he felt completely disoriented and confused. 'But you learn to deal with it. I developed systems so that I could fulfill everything my faith demanded of me. Wherever I worked, my first priority was to find a hidden place.' His face breaks into a smile. 'It's not hard to find an excuse to be alone in the corridors of a mine.

When asked how he has persevered all these years, he replies: "I felt I had received great energy and a purpose in life from the Creator of the world. This source strengthened me through all the different jobs I had to do (in addition to working in the mines, he also worked as a plumber and welder) until the last day before my release."

In prison, he tried to record some of his thoughts and insights by writing them in Arabic in case they were discovered. He hid them in a small box in the floor. One day, a guard discovered the box. The precious writings were destroyed, but without the guards being able to read the contents.

Sometimes, over the long years under different camp regimes, there were times when the prisoners had a day off when visits were allowed. This was difficult for him as his family could never visit him. But he made friends and a sense of solidarity grew with Christian priests who were similarly persecuted. "No one can say, except those of us who were in prison, what life was like for so many Albanians," he reflects. "But we had God's help and knew that he would eventually bring down the perpetrators of all these evils."
His release came in 1986, after he had served 20 years and four months of his sentence. He was reunited with his family, but his mother had died. Things slowly began to improve. In 1990, religious freedom was restored. The following year, he was elected Mufti by the Muslim Council of Albania.

He continues to maintain warm and close relations with his Greek Orthodox and Catholic "brothers". He says the different faiths form one body. "In God's eyes, we are not separate. We serve him in different ways. As religious leaders, it is our duty to love others as ourselves - and that includes honoring one another." When the Pope visited Tirana in 1992, Sabri Koci met him and took part in the big rally in Skanderbeg Square along with thousands of other Muslims. "There was no one who didn't come," he remembers. He also remembers attending the reopening of the historic Catholic church in Lac, which had been destroyed under the Hoxha regime. Thousands of Muslims came to experience the ceremony together with the Catholics. "I often go to the cathedral," he adds.

To illustrate the closeness of the relationship, he recalls how he once jokingly asked the Catholic archbishop: "Do you think it was more strenuous for Jesus to heal people's illnesses and raise the dead, or to deal with those who misunderstood him or wanted to argue against him?"

For the mufti, the Muslim faith embraces tolerance. "We have to learn to live together - in many cases, even the animals do," he says. He does not insist on purdah for women. "Of course they should dress modestly, but if men are tempted, they can protect themselves by closing their eyes."
He believes that freedom, especially that which comes from economic opportunity and prosperity, has not yet fully arrived in Albania. What is his message to Albania and the world? "It is to keep the heart patient to meet life. Everything happens in the knowledge of God. Therefore, we can ask for God's help in all our difficulties. If you believe that everything comes from God, you can never be defeated. You will always win in the end."

Author(s): Paul Williams

Magazine: For A Change

The leader of Albania's Muslims, Haxhi Hafiz Sabri Koci, tells Paul Williams how he kept his faith in prison.

Author
Paul Williams
Article language
English - Translation into German
2000
Item date
01.08.2000
Publication permission
Granted

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