Part Two
Anita Susuri: Within these groups, the group you were part of, what were the main activities you carried out? What were you engaged in?
Naser Kuka: The main activities were reading and distributing underground newspapers, magazines, books, and literature that we had access to during those years. Naturally, we also managed to secure materials through other channels, enriching the arsenal of resources used at the time to raise awareness and expand the organizational circles. Monitoring and expanding these circles was done with the conviction that one day we would reach a stage where we needed to have the people ready for armed struggle. We knew that Kosovo wouldn’t be liberated through paper (laughs).
However, it was necessary to work in this direction to raise awareness, mobilize the masses, and expand the circles to increase our numbers. Thanks to these efforts made at that time for Kosovo and other Albanian territories, despite the strength of Yugoslavia’s repression against the movement, it always found the power to revive and move forward. Yugoslavia never succeeded in dissolving or stopping the patriotic activities of the Liberation Movement in Kosovo and the Albanian territories within the former Yugoslavia. No matter how powerful the repression was, the movement persisted, continued to advance, and did not stop until the public emergence of our glorious army.
Anita Susuri: During these actions, did you have rules, for example, about where to operate or time periods within which you had to act?
Naser Kuka: Yes, well… the underground system worked like this, first, the structure of sympathizers was prepared, and once it was assessed that an individual or a group of friends could move to the next level, they would be directly admitted as members, this stage involved discipline and rules, but it didn’t happen immediately. A period would pass, three months, six months, or maybe even longer. In some cases, a person might remain in the role of a sympathizer their entire life, yet contribute more than you {gestures to himself} in terms of work, do you understand?
Anita Susuri: Was that like a kind of testing period for that person?
Naser Kuka: Yes, it was a period where, for example, if you gave someone a book to read and they accepted it, that was the first step. Then, if they passed it on to someone else, the second step was taken, and so on. There were certain organizational rules, both written and unwritten. These served us well, of course, because the people never accepted or reconciled with the position of being an occupied population. We also benefited from the experiences of the generations before us.
Anita Susuri: I wanted to connect this to what I mentioned about the testing period, what was the moment when someone was trusted to become part of the group?
Naser Kuka: Well, now…
Anita Susuri: Or was it different for each individual, depending [on the circumstances]?
Naser Kuka: Well, for example, when I invited someone to join the Movement, I would tell them, “This is where I stand. I’m here, are you willing to join me? Are you ready to embark on a path that might bring consequences to our lives but one that we must take?” That’s how it worked, trust was built, we evaluated things, made the decision ourselves… but still, there was a structure, and someone else also had to be informed about this. In cases where it was unavoidable, we operated using pseudonyms.
This is how it was decided, a conviction was formed that the person met all the necessary conditions, including their behavior in daily life, their dedication, commitment, readiness, and so on, to become part of the movement. Once we reached this conclusion, that they met all the requirements to be one of us, we would tell them, “Reveal yourself.” Then, we would administer the oath, they would take the oath, and so on. No matter how long the testing period lasted, there came a moment to say, “This is where I stand, are you joining me?”
Anita Susuri: And this oath you mention, since it’s often referred to, do you perhaps know the words that were used? And are they, let’s say, open to the public now for everyone to know?
Naser Kuka: Yes, these are well known. They’ve been published in dozens of books and various works, but the essence is this, “I will work until my last drop of blood for the realization of our national aspirations.” That’s the core of the oath. It’s similar to the military oath of the Kosovo Liberation Army. Over time and in different circumstances, the strategy or realities of the work changed, evolving differently from what you initially worked toward, however, a historical process for a people does not depend solely on its internal will. Especially for us, when we are an issue debated at the tables of world chancelleries. In other words, despite how much we have propagated, fought, and engaged for the unification of Kosovo with Albania, our process is not yet complete. A new generation will emerge to fulfill that amanet.
Anita Susuri: I want to talk now about the period when you continued your studies. Did you come to Pristina?
Naser Kuka: No, I didn’t come because my right to university education was taken away…
Anita Susuri: This was, meaning, in ‘82, but before that…
Naser Kuka: No, in ‘81 my right to education was taken away.
Anita Susuri: Could you elaborate on that? Was it during the time when the demonstrations were taking place?
Naser Kuka: No, it’s connected now. The decision was made at that time, the decision was made then, but on January 28, 1981, I, along with a group of friends, visited Albania. After that, it started here, in a way, at the time… just going to Albania was enough, not for pleasure or anything, but if you went to Albania, you automatically ended up on the list of people who needed to be monitored, followed, and kept under surveillance, and so on.
Anita Susuri: Did you go to Albania legally or illegally?
Naser Kuka: No, no, we went legally. However, according to the Yugoslav Security, the Yugoslav policies, it was considered an illegal visit because there were apparently certain rules that, in fact, I wasn’t even aware of. In addition to the visa from the Albanian Embassy in Belgrade, according to them, that list was supposed to be submitted to other Yugoslav bodies, like the League of Communists of Yugoslavia or the security services, who knows. You were supposed to get approval from them as well, determining whether you could go or not. They would even plant their own agents within such structures, typical of how they operated. We didn’t comply with that norm. Personally, I didn’t even know about it, but even if I had known, I still wouldn’t have complied.
Anita Susuri: So, you only sought permission from Albania?
Naser Kuka: Yes, yes. We obtained permission from the Albanian Embassy. I personally handled and led this process. Then, after our return, we naturally faced significant problems. Previously, I was called in for informative talks about why I was associating with Yugoslavia’s enemy, Sali Bajra. Now, they began targeting me or others, asking, “Why are you associating with Naser Kuka?” and so on.
Anita Susuri: Before continuing with this, I’m very interested in the part where you traveled to Albania, as very few people had the chance to go at that time. What was your overall experience like? And, if I may ask, why did you go?
Naser Kuka: Well, our generation, youth is that stage of life where you don’t see obstacles in the path you want to take, there’s no force in the world that can stop you from pursuing the direction you’ve set out on. We belong to that generation and are part of it. And not just for this matter, but for anything, if you want to do something, you do it. We wanted to do this, and at that time, we took responsibility for this issue. To see things more closely, to explore possibilities that could also serve us back here. What we envisioned, we made happen.
The external aspect didn’t leave an impression on me personally. I don’t even know, because when we returned, people would ask, “Did they have this? Did they have that?” But I didn’t pay attention to things like what kind of stove they baked their bread on, you know? Or what kind of bedding they had. I didn’t go there with that mindset, I went as one goes to their own home, as one goes to their homeland, as one visits the place they’ve dreamed of, the place that had been forbidden.
Anita Susuri: How long did you stay there?
Naser Kuka: I don’t remember exactly, but it was a good two weeks. Even though we had permission and all that, they told us over there, “Stay as long as you want, go wherever you want.” In the end, we had each agreed on how much money to bring with us. But still, they kept telling us, “You can settle the payments at the end.” And in the end, they didn’t let us pay anything. In other words, we didn’t pay a thing.
Anita Susuri: Did you stay with someone, a friend, or were there hotels?
Naser Kuka: No, no, they accommodated us in hotels since the visit was organized. We didn’t face any obstacles. If we expressed a desire to go somewhere, we went. They arranged the travel infrastructure and everything else for us. No visit was made without consulting us, without us saying we wanted to go here or there. We also had someone from there accompanying us. At that time, they referred to it as tourism, meaning that sector, tourism.
Anita Susuri: Did you visit monumental sites in Albania, or was your purpose to establish relationships and connections, perhaps?
Naser Kuka: Whatever we wanted to do, we did. Wherever we wanted to go, we went. There was nothing left for us to regret, like, “Oh, we couldn’t do this.” Whatever we wanted, we did, whoever we wanted to meet, we met. We even wanted to stay in a private home through family connections, one connection leading to another, and we did that too. We were as free as if we were at home, like being in your own house.
Anita Susuri: Were you a large group when you went?
Naser Kuka: We were nine people, nine friends.
Anita Susuri: You mentioned that when you returned, you faced problems…
Naser Kuka: Yes, there were problems. There were issues, but we got through them, it all tied together. Then came March 11, [1981] and they didn’t have time to deal with this matter anymore because bigger issues arose. The scope of investigations during arrests or summonses for informative talks kept expanding, as the timing of our visit to Albania overlapped with the spring events, you understand? This made our situation a bit more complicated. But we made it through ‘81, even though there were problems. We were interrogated, mistreated, and so on. However, we wrapped up ‘81 well and entered ‘82, where we had already begun thinking about organizing the anniversary of the ‘81 demonstrations.
Anita Susuri: I want to pause for a moment on ‘81, as you were a participant in the demonstrations. I think it’s worth documenting what you witnessed. But first, did you know that something was being organized?
Naser Kuka: Yes, we worked to organize and create the conditions for public organization and public opposition to Yugoslavia, for popular resistance. That was the goal. However, March 11 didn’t personally surprise me, but I didn’t know it would happen on March 11. I can’t say that I knew because I didn’t.
Anita Susuri: You didn’t know the exact date?
Naser Kuka: No, no, I can’t say that. I found out about it the next day when it erupted. This made us very happy, gave us hope, because we were aware that the important thing was for the process to start, once it starts, it doesn’t stop.
Anita Susuri: March 11 was essentially the first spark, but then it continued with the relay handover and April 1 and 2, which, if I’m not mistaken, involved more violence.
Naser Kuka: It started on March 26, continued on April 1, 2, and 3. On April 3, a state of emergency was declared in Pristina. Yugoslav special police forces were deployed, and there were incidents in the outskirts as well. However, not like on April 1 and 2, when all of Pristina was on its feet.
Anita Susuri: Where were you at those moments, and what did you see? What did you experience?
Naser Kuka: I wasn’t there on March 11. I know it happened from my friends, but I wasn’t a participant on March 11. My wife, however, was a participant.
Anita Susuri: And on April 1 and 2?
Naser Kuka: I was there on April 1, 2, and on April 3 until around midday. After that, it became impossible to move out of Pristina by bus or… well, we didn’t have a car at that time, so we set off on foot. We had information that a demonstration was planned to start in Ferizaj around 2:00 PM, and we wanted to be part of it as well. That’s why we started walking to Ferizaj. Later, we became part of… naturally, we worked on spreading the spirit of the demonstrations from Pristina. If nothing else, at least we inhaled a lot of tear gas that day (laughs).
Anita Susuri: And you mentioned that after this, they still came and interrogated you, mistreated you, because they connected it to your trip to Albania…
Naser Kuka: Yes, it happened, yes, yes, yes.
Anita Susuri: But you continued with ‘82, the year you were imprisoned.
Naser Kuka: I was arrested on March 5 or 6, ‘82, under the accusation of organized hostile activity, nationalist, separatist, and irredentist, defined under Article 136 in connection with Article 114 of the Yugoslav Penal Code at that time. This was the accusation under which I was arrested and imprisoned.
Anita Susuri: Mr. Naser, you mentioned that the first time you were detained for a longer period was on March 5 or 6, ‘82, when you were also sentenced to imprisonment…
Naser Kuka: Yes.
Anita Susuri: How did all of this happen? How did they come and take you? Why?
Naser Kuka: In fact, a day before my arrest, this happened on either March 5 or March 6, I’m not entirely sure. One of my friends, a close collaborator and one of my closest companions in the underground activities of those years and later, was arrested. I was informed about his absence from home during the night by his sister. She told me he hadn’t come home all night and asked, “Do you know where he is? Where did he go?” and so on.
I knew he had gone somewhere, but he had returned sometime in the evening. However, he was informed by his family that someone was looking for him. During the day, they had frequently come to his house to check if he had arrived, when he would return, and so on. The same people had asked to be taken to me since they didn’t know where I lived, but because their behavior raised some suspicions, his family refused to bring them to me.
Now, when I was told he hadn’t come home all night, I was 99 percent sure he must have been arrested. Although I wasn’t entirely certain. When I went out into town, this happened on Thursday, and Friday was market day in Kaçanik, I usually picked up the press when leaving the house. I noticed unfamiliar faces who…
Anita Susuri: Who were lingering around.
Naser Kuka: Who were hanging around like that. Naturally, I took the necessary precautions to ensure that nothing could be found in the house in case of any eventuality, and another thing was that if it turned out my friend had indeed been arrested, I knew I would be arrested as well because of our closeness and the work we had done together. I took these precautions and took certain actions to pass on the connections of the cells and the message to continue the work regardless of what might happen today or tomorrow. Then, in the afternoon, I went home for a while to be around and to see my family one last time, because, to be honest, I didn’t want to be arrested in front of them.
I had the chance to leave, but I didn’t want to, because if they had already arrested that friend of mine, my friend Hysen Shehu, then let them arrest me as well. That’s how it was. During the day, someone from his family would come to inform me, asking, “Is there any news? Is there anything new? Are there suspicious movements around the house?” and so on. Later in the day, I became convinced that he had indeed been arrested. However, I didn’t know that other arrests were taking place elsewhere in Kosovo because at that time, we didn’t have the means of communication we do now, like phones and such.
Late in the evening, I believe it was around eight or nine, I was also arrested. I was sitting at a table with friends, among them Sali Bajra. A large number of special police forces were mobilized, and the location where we were was surrounded. At one moment, they essentially kidnapped me, and so on. To be honest, when they brought me to the State Security Center in Ferizaj, I actually felt relieved. I realized that Hysen was also in prison, him in prison and me in prison. Now, there was nothing left but to endure, to ensure that our imprisonment didn’t cause any setbacks in the processes that had already begun.
Later, during the investigations, it became clear that others had also been arrested, from Ferizaj, Vitia, and surrounding areas. We managed to conclude this investigative process without any additional consequences, especially within the organizational circles. In other words, they took us, we remained in custody, the process was completed, we were brought to trial, sentenced, and…
Anita Susuri: How long were you sentenced?
Naser Kuka: In this process, I was sentenced to four years in prison. The friend I mentioned was sentenced to three and a half years, and the others received sentences of three years or less. That’s how it was.
Anita Susuri: Where did you serve your sentence? In which prison?
Naser Kuka: There are several investigative prisons in Kosovo. Initially, I was in Ferizaj, then in Pristina, at the District Prison in Pristina. From there, I was transferred to the Mitrovica Prison, then to Sarajevo for a few months, and finally to the Zenica Prison. I was released from Zenica in March ‘86. I served my full sentence, day by day, as I was sentenced. Prison life was not easy, as it isn’t for anyone else either. But…
Anita Susuri: What were these prisons like? For example, the Pristina Prison?
Naser Kuka: Well, let’s say, for several days or more than a week, I was held in… the basement of the State Security Center in Ferizaj. That was much harsher because there was no food, no water, and the interrogations lasted day and night. The investigative teams rotated among themselves, but they were all focused on you. Of course, it wasn’t easy, it was very difficult. Then, in the prison, compared to the basement, it was somewhat different. Prisons don’t differ much from each other, a prison is a prison. What might differ are the people or the spaces, a smaller cell, a larger cell, but it’s still a prison. I haven’t gone back to visit the Pristina prison now that it’s open to visitors. I spent enough time there, and I don’t feel the need to see it again.
It was a bit more specific in that the bathrooms and washing facilities were outside the main building. You had to go through what we called the walking yard at the time, a kind of corridor or open area where you were allowed to walk for two or three minutes during your air break. The bathrooms were within this walking yard, meaning you had to go outside in the winter, in the cold, in the rain, whatever the weather, passing through the yard to wash up. In most cases, there was no hot water available, so you had to use cold water, I don’t remember exactly if it was once a week or twice a week that we could wash. But this was the same for everyone, with no exceptions. This was how it was in Pristina.
In Mitrovica, it was even harder. It was more difficult for us who were inside. But also tougher for the family members who came to visit, because there was a different set of rules, stricter monitoring of conversations, and worse treatment toward family members who came to see us, and visits typically lasted two to three minutes and occurred once every 15 days in Kosovo’s investigative prisons. In Sarajevo and Zenica, it was once a month, one visit each month.