21 Sep 18 | Albania, Europe and Central Asia, Mapping Media Freedom, Media Freedom, media freedom featured, News and features
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A small protest by journalists and citizens after the attack on Klodina Lala’s parental home. Credit: Fjori Sinoruka
In the early hours of 30 August, investigative journalist Klodiana Lala’s parental home was sprayed with bullets. Luckily no one was injured.
Lala, a crime reporter for Albania’s News 24 TV, connected the incident with her work as a journalist, saying that neither she nor her family had any personal conflicts that would spur this type of incident. The attack drew rapid condemnation and calls to bring the perpetrators to justice from concerned citizens and politicians, including the country’s prime minister, Edi Rama, who described it as a “barbarous” act. He pledged that the authorities would spare no efforts to investigate the attack.
Rama’s fine words about this attack belie the reality of most crimes against journalists in Albania: identification and prosecution rates of perpetrators are near zero.
When City News Albania’s editor Elvi Fundo was brutally assaulted at 11am in crowded central Tirana, he too received solidarity from the country’s politicians and press, including a note from Rama. But 17 months later, those expressions of support haven’t translated into action from prosecutors.
The attack on Fundo, in which he was beaten with iron bars by two men in hoodies just metres from his office, left him unconscious with serious injuries to his head and an eye.
To add insult to his injuries, Fundo was told on 31 August 2018 that prosecutors were suspending the investigation into his assault because of the lack of suspects.
“This is a grotesque decision. Investigations are not conducted thoroughly. I had to force authorities to seek out more footage from the bars around the area after I left the hospital. They didn’t seem very keen to do so,” he said.
Fundo’s lawyer challenged the decision in court, emphasising that he has given prosecutors information, he said, that can lead investigators to those that ordered the attack.
“I will never stop pushing them to bring the authors of the assault on me to justice since this is not a case lacking in information. I believe the police and prosecutors are just afraid of those who ordered the attack on me,” he said.
While intimidation is a criminal offence in Albania and is punishable by a fine or up to two years in prison, journalists find themselves without much support when they are threatened due to their professional duties.
Very often, prosecutors are reluctant to even open a case and when they do are eager to drop the charges, as was the case against a man who threatened a journalist on Facebook.
Dashamir Bicaku, a crime reporter who acted as a fixer and translator for a Daily Mail journalist, received an anonymous threatening message on June 17 2018 via his Facebook account. The threat came two days after the Mail published an investigation into Elidon Habilaj’s fraudulent asylum claim and subsequent career in British law enforcement, for which Habilaj was convicted and sentenced to 18 months in absentia.
“I’ll come straight to the point! I’ll come and get you so that there’ll be nothing left of you and yours!”, the message read. He reported the incident to the police the next day, alleging to law enforcement that Habilaj was the only person who would have a motive to threaten him.
But on 31 July 2018, he received a letter from the Vlora prosecutor’s office telling him that they had decided not to open an investigation into the case. According to Bicaku, the prosecutors said that Habilaj had denied sending a threatening message to the journalist and — even if he had — the message was not serious.
A few days later Bicaku learned that a close relative of Habilaj was working as a prosecutor in the same unit.
“What happened is a clear signal about the connections that those involved in organised crime have with people in the justice system,” Bicaku said.
Even when the aggressor has been clearly identified, negligence by the investigating institution makes appropriate punishment difficult.
Julian Shota, a correspondent of Report TV, was threatened with a gun by Llesh Butaku, the owner of a bar in the town of Lac where an explosion had taken place. When the journalist identified himself, Butaku demanded that he leave and not report the incident. When Shota refused, Butaku loaded a gun and pointed it at the journalist’s head.
Shota said he was saved by Butaku’s relatives, who grabbed his hand to prevent him from shooting. The journalist immediately reported the incident to police, but three hours passed before they arrived to detain Butaku.
“In three hours you can hide a rocket let alone a handgun,” Shota said. “The prosecutor received me in his office telling me clearly that I should not expect a lot since no gun was found on him.”
After seven hours Butaku released and the charge for illegal possession of firearms, which could have carried a prison sentence, was dropped.
“Instead of being investigated for attempted murder, Butaku is only being investigated for making threats,” he said.
Artan Hoxha, a prominent investigative journalist with over 20 years of experience, remembers tens of case when he was threatened because of his job, but that “every single case was suspended without any success”.
“I rarely report the threats that I receive to the authorities anymore. I know it is not worth even to bother doing so,” he said.
Part of the problem is that the Albanian judicial system is considered one of the most corrupt in Europe. It is currently undergoing a radical reform overseen by international experts in which all the country’s judges and prosecutors are being put through a vetting process.
As of August, 45 judges and prosecutors have been evaluated. Twenty-one failed and will be unable to continue to work in the judicial system.
Dorian Matlija, attorney and executive director at Res Publica, a centre for transparency, considers the prosecution the most problematic branch of the judicial system.
“Journalists are right, the prosecution is infamous for its bad work and it is one of the less scrutinised institutions over its decisions despite having a lot of power within the system,” he said.
According to Matlija, when journalists received death threats or are sued, they often find themselves alone.
“They have difficulties accessing and navigating the judicial system while the media owner is often the first to abandon them to keep trouble at bay,” Matlija said.
To remedy this, he said that is very important to create free legal help for journalists, not only when they face prosecution, and also to push for employment rights.
Journalists consider the lack of judicial protection a big obstacle in continuing doing investigative journalism in Albania.
“Is very difficult to investigate organised crime in Albania, since you don’t have the minimum protection and media owners can throw you out in the first place,” Bicaku said.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1537456192915-fc339c8f-4676-3″ taxonomies=”6564″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
03 Oct 17 | Mapping Media Freedom, Media Freedom, media freedom featured, News and features
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Albania’s mainstream media outlets have been reluctant to cover and expose corruption in the country, and observers blame vexatious lawsuits for the hesitancy.
In June 2017, Gjin Gjoni, a court of appeals judge in Tirana, and his wife Elona Caushi, a businesswoman, filed charges against BIRN Albania along with its journalist Besar Likmeta and Aleksandra Bogdani, and separate charges against the newspaper Shqiptarja, along with its journalists Adriatic Doci and Elton Qyno.
BIRN Albania, which specialises in investigative reporting, publishing and media monitoring, along with Likmeta and Bogdani were accused of causing the couple reputational damage and anguish, for which Gjoni and Caushi are demanding 7 million Lek (€54,000) in compensation.
The BIRN Albania journalists had written about the closure and subsequent reopening of an investigation, carried out by the High Inspectorate for Declaration and Audit of Assets and Conflicts of Interest, into Gjoni for concealing wealth, falsifying official documents and money laundering.
In another article, BIRN Albania listed Gjoni as one of the ten richest judges in the country.
In a separate lawsuit, Gjoni and Caushi, based on the same reference, are asking for 4 million Lek (€30,000) in compensation from Shqiptarja, Doci and Qyno.
Kristina Voko, the executive director of BIRN Albania, considers the lawsuit malicious in nature. She pointed to the high journalistic standards held by the organisation for the work it produces.
“We are confident we will win the case because our reporting has been in public interest and solidly based on facts,” she told Index.
Doci wrote on Facebook that he was honoured by the lawsuit and that he would not remove anything in his article about Gjoni because he considers it to be accurate.
Media organisations within the country and internationally have expressed solidarity with BIRN Albania and Shqiptarja. Many think the cases will further discourage investigative journalism, which is already scarce.
Flutura Kusari, a media lawyer, said in an article published at the website Sbunker that the Gjoni lawsuits fell under the category of Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPP), which she believes are being used to intimidate Albanian journalists.
“In the SLAPP lawsuits you can see prima facie that are not based in facts and they are going to be unsuccessful in the court. With them the plaintiff does not aim to win the case, but aims to frighten and discourage journalists from further reporting issues of public interest, making them pass through long and costly court processes,” she wrote.
The Union of Albanian Journalists called for Gjoni to stand down while the case is ongoing as his position in the judicial system may influence the decisions.
Blendi Salaj, the vice chairman of Albanian Media Council, considers the case as one against investigative journalism that also aims to keep the media silent.
“There are no grounds for this case but the fact that true journalism and the dissemination of information goes against the interest of subjects whose shifty activities are revealed in the press,” he told Index.
Salaj also pointed to the large damages requested as compensation by the plaintiff.
“The amount of money they request is meant to scare, worry and intimidate journalists and outlets that expose facts they don’t want out there,” he said.
Kristina Voko also agrees that lawsuits are being used as a form of intimidation.
“It is true that during the last year, there has been an increased number of lawsuits against Albanian journalists or media outlets from judges or private companies involved in different concessionary agreements,” she told Index.
“This poses concerns related to media freedom in the country,” she said.
Investigating private companies also poses difficulties for journalists in the country. It is already a rare practice in the mainstream media as result of advertising contracts and strong ties that some of these companies have with politicians.
Albania has begun the implementation of an important judicial reform after almost two years of adopting laws that aim to clean up corruption in politics.
The reform was strongly pushed by the European Commission and the United States, and is considered crucial for Albania to advance in its bid to join the European Union.
A vetting process for all judges and prosecutors in the country supervised by an international body is underway as the first step to reform the system. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1506959873796-92fda719-8e40-6″ taxonomies=”6564″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
12 Sep 24 | Afghanistan, Asia and Pacific, News and features
Everything Afghan women do this week in Tirana, Albania is forbidden to them at home. Arguing. Laughing. Speaking loudly in public. Singing. Wearing brightly coloured clothes. Showing their faces. All haram according to the men from Kandahar who currently hold power. As the Taliban move to erase women across Afghanistan, in Tirana Afghan women are asking, how do we fight back?
“Until now we have been unable to sit together and listen to each other, and understand what do we want?” said Farzana Kochi. At 26, she became one of Afghanistan’s youngest MPs, representing her nomadic Kochi people. Like most of the women at the summit she was forced to flee Afghanistan when the Taliban seized power in 2021. Now aged 33, she lives in exile in Norway.
The last time I saw her, she was taking me to meet her constituents. It was May 2021, a few weeks before the withdrawal of US troops, the collapse of the government and the return of the Taliban. She was used to Taliban death threats – we travelled in a bullet-proof car, and she had been careful not to signal her movements in advance. When we arrived at the Kochi encampment, she distributed notebooks and pens to the children, but there was no school for them to attend – neither for boys nor girls. The women remained in the tents, as the men would not let them be filmed. Women’s rights, Farzana explained, had scarcely spread beyond the city limits – her work was mainly trying to alleviate poverty. In this she had the trust of the Kochi elders. “Why wouldn’t we vote for her?” one said to me. “She’s like our daughter. And she’s the only politician who comes to visit us and see our problems.”
That day, Farzana wore a brightly coloured traditional Kochi dress. After the Taliban takeover, she sent me a picture of herself in a black niqab, with only her eyes showing – the costume she wore to escape Afghanistan after the Taliban raided her office. Now, when she calls home, all her former constituents’ problems have been magnified. They are still just as poor and no politicians or NGOs are there to help them.
“It’s worse than ever,” she said. “The first thing people say is that they want to get out, to leave Afghanistan.”
According to Farzana, the priority for the women meeting in Tirana is to unite, and not let political or ethnic divisions distract them. “No matter if I’m Pashtun, I’m Kochi, I’m Uzbek, I’m Hazara, or whatever – we are targeted as women. We are all victims of the same thing.” She hopes the summit will produce a roadmap for Afghan women to present to international governments and the UN. No-one at the summit has any illusions about how long and rocky the road. For the moment, the Taliban feel secure as their opponents bicker about whether to engage or not. But until Afghan women decide how they want to resist, inside and outside the country, nothing will change.
At the end of the week, those women who came from Afghanistan will return. An older woman, who didn’t want to reveal her identity for fear of reprisals, said she would go back to give hope to younger women, to remind them that the Taliban fell from power before and will do so again – as well as to continue helping widows and orphans. Women are establishing underground schools for girls – just like the one Farzana attended back in the 1990s when she grew up under the first Taliban government.
The exiled women will scatter across the globe.
“No matter how many years go by, I will still cry,” Farzana said, fighting back the tears. “This wound is so deep and so fresh. Wherever you are, you can just live and settle. But you have all those weights on your shoulders. A country of millions of people is not something that you can give up on.”
Watch Lindsey Hilsum’s report for Channel 4 here.
