The Albanian tradition of hospitality and kinship ranks among the most ancient societal codes in the Balkans. This tradition is most notably codified in the Kanun of Lek Dukagjini, a Northern Albanian code of laws penned in the 15th century in Malësia e Madhe (The Great Highlands) and followed by noblemen and shepherds alike. The Kanun places a heavy emphasis on the guest being treated with honor and respect. In the Albanian household, visitors are regarded as a blessing, with their arrival being seen as a way of displaying one’s generosity.
This responsibility dictates that the keepers of the household are obligated to provide the guest with the utmost care and attention, even during difficult times. This tradition reflects the ultimate belief that a guest is welcome into the household of an Albanian, and by fulfilling their role as a host, one is serving a higher purpose with God.
Article 601 of the Kanun states that: “The House of an Albanian belongs to God and the guest.” In this sense, an Albanian who does not respect his guests has rebelled against God and his own family. A relationship of honor and respect is established between the host and his guest, one whose importance is not to be taken for granted.
An illustration of this code of honor stems from a story recounted by Marko Miljanov, a Montenegrin warrior of the late 1800s and chieftain of the Kuči tribe. Miljanov was a notable military figure and, after retiring from Montenegrin public life at the age of 50 following a dispute with Prince Nikola, decided to learn to read and write, going on to write a book titled “The Life and Customs of the Albanians.” In this work, he describes the capture of an Albanian robber of the Hoti tribe by a Bushatli vizier of the Ottoman administration en route from Shkodra to Rapsha. The vizier offered large sums of gold to catch the perpetrator, and after a certain amount of time, the Hoti tribesman was caught and brought before the vizier, who asked him:
“Tell me, why are you making all this trouble?”
“Just for fun, my lord,” replied the robber.
“I then sentence you to death,” said the vizier.
“May it be!” replied the robber who was then taken away to be executed. A henchman followed the robber with a sharp sword at hand, ready to swiftly fulfill his duty.
Once they had arrived at the appointed place of execution, the vizier turned to the robber: “Come over here, Albanian, because I want to ask you something.”
The robber from Hoti turned around. The vizier and the henchmen around him gazed at the robber as he approached them in a calm and delighted manner. Though his hands and ankles were in shackles, he acted as if it were some small matter which did not spark in him any interest, or as if the executioner were calling him over to ask a casual question.
The robber having approached, the vizier asked: “You have acted like a man for all the crimes you committed, but I would want to ask you a question and would like an honest answer from you.”
"Speak and ask your question,” responded the robber.
“You have committed many crimes that were grave and involved much effort. But I now want to know from you — were you ever in such a predicament as the one you are in now?”
“Yes, I was. I was once in a far worse situation,” replied the robber.
“What happened to you that could be worse than what has happened to you today? The henchman is standing behind you and is about to chop off your head in a few minutes. Think carefully. Was there ever a worse day in your life than today? Tell the truth. Do not shame yourself with any lies to all these people who are looking at you and listening to you.”
The Albanian robber slowly turned his gaze to the henchman, who was standing tall like a monument with the sword in his hand and carefully watching the vizier, ready to carry out his order in one fell swoop. Having looked at the henchman in detail, the robber turned around to face the vizier. All those who were witnesses to this event were convinced that he was going to beg the vizier to have someone else fulfill the execution. To their surprise, he merely looked at his executioner with a penetrating gaze.
The vizier repeated his question: “Speak up like a man. Have you ever been in such a predicament, Albanian?”
“I already told you, I was in a worse situation, in fact twice,” replied the robber.
“Tell us what happened.”
“There were two occasions on which visitors came to my house and I had nothing to offer them for dinner and they were forced to spend the night without food. Those two occasions were much worse for me than what is happening now because I am sure that what takes place today will soon be forgotten, but those two events will be remembered forever.”
The robber soon looked overwhelmed by the faint memories and his face turned red with shame. The vizier and those who witnessed this event were left stunned. In the face of death, the Albanian tribesman was more distraught by the thought of a guest not being fed in his household than that of his own execution. The vizier, at first lost for words, ordered the henchman to release the robber and allow him to return back to his home in the tribe of Hoti.
This legendary tale, recorded by an outsider, speaks to the intensity with which the Albanians of the Highland tribes of Hoti, Shkreli, Kelmendi and Kastrati held firm to the codes of the Kanun. These traditions live on in a considerable section of the Albanian population, leading to the reconciliation of modern societal ideals with those of old, as described by Marko Miljanov.
Works Cited:
Marko Miljanov: The Life and Customs of the Albanians, www.albanianhistory.net/1907_Miljanov/index.htm. Accessed 4 June 2023.
“Understanding Besa, the Albanian Code of Honour.” Diplomat Magazine, https://diplomatonline.com/mag/2010/09/understanding-besa-the-albanian-code-of-honour/ Accessed 4 June 2023.
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