Another day, another dazzling display of efficiency by the Albanian State Police. Once again, the streets of Tirana and its surrounding areas have been made "safer" thanks to the heroic capture of small-time drug dealers. The latest in a never-ending series of high-profile operations, this time named "Fshehtësia" (The Secret), has brought down two dangerous individuals—well, not exactly dangerous, but certainly convenient scapegoats.
 |
| Money, drugs and cell phones seized by Albanian police |
The Albanian police have perfected the art of chasing the lowest-hanging fruit. Every week, the headlines are filled with reports of "success stories"—the capture of yet another street dealer, the seizure of yet another small quantity of drugs, and, of course, the confiscation of mobile phones and vehicles. The public is expected to cheer and commend the police for their unwavering dedication to justice. But let’s ask the obvious question: where are the real criminals? Where are the bosses? The ones who finance, import, and distribute tons of drugs, not mere grams?
Albania has become the land of ironic justice, where prisons are filled with petty criminals while the true masterminds of the drug trade enjoy their freedom—probably sipping coffee at exclusive seaside resorts, laughing at the absurd theater of law enforcement. The police are busy flexing their muscles in front of cameras, celebrating their victories over small fry, while the real power players operate with impunity. Perhaps it’s just a coincidence that the biggest names in drug trafficking are rarely, if ever, arrested. Or perhaps, as the frequent corruption scandals suggest, some members of law enforcement are too busy collecting their cut to go after the actual criminals.
Every week, another police officer is exposed for corruption. Another scandal erupts, revealing that certain "trusted" officers have been working in collaboration with criminal networks. And yet, the arrests keep targeting only the expendable, the nameless figures at the bottom of the food chain. Albanian taxpayers are forced to fund the imprisonment of these individuals—feeding them, housing them—while the real architects of the drug trade live luxuriously on their profits. How much public money is wasted on this ridiculous charade?
Until Albania’s police force grows a spine and starts tackling the real problem, all these arrests will remain nothing more than empty spectacles. The public is not fooled. They know that the biggest criminals are not in the back of a police car, but sitting in the front seats of luxury vehicles, untouched by the hands of justice. The so-called "war on drugs" in Albania is nothing but a carefully orchestrated circus, where the clowns wear police uniforms, and the ringmasters remain hidden in plain sight.