Evaluative and Reflective Essay
By Xhevahir SHtupa, on the online newspaper Zemrashqiptare
An epic composition. A heroic epic. About a true historical event. Deçiq, April 6, 1911.
A battle and a rare act of heroism that the People’s Painter, Agim Zajmi, has immortalized in this symbolic and identity-charged painting, both in content and in form. It also resembles a monumental sculptural group: with all the warriors gathered around Dedë as protagonists, with the castle as a pedestal (centuries-old resistance), and the flag high at the top — the present victory. But also present are desire, purpose, pride, and national essence. It feels like the final scene of a dramatic performance. These and many other qualities make this painting a rare work of art.
The warriors continue to fire. Three of them are raising the flag. The First Flag of Freedom. On the wall of the Castle, near its foundations, the fresh blood of the brave men who just fell is still red and warm…
Ah, Uncle Dedë! How did you endure the pain for the sons who fell one after another, the flag still in their hands?! Ah, yes — the strength came from their last wish, their sacred command: that the Albanian flag be raised there, amidst the smoke and flames of gunpowder. The brave sons of Malësia, who fought side by side and fell one after another, in the springtime of their lives, on that spring day… they gave you the strength to endure the pain, and to continue the fight until the goal was fulfilled. They gave you honor and pride — to you, and to all of Malësia. They fought and fell for Albania.
We gaze at the painting. The warriors are still firing. Three of them are raising the First Flag of Freedom, there — at the summit of Bratilë(brother on albanian), in Deçiq. A young fighter, rifle raised high, rejoices in victory. The flag brought that victory. Dedë salutes the flag and announces the triumph to Malësia and Albania with shots from his revolver. We observe the group of fighters. They resemble rocks atop a rock — all together, like a fortress upon the Fortress. There it is, the castle wall…
Next to Dedë, on his left, a warrior in a burning red xhamadan (traditional vest). Close are their hearts. Close too are their weapons. Did you see them? And there — the drummer and the drum that, hours earlier, sounded the call to arms.
Even now, “nji tash”, we seem to hear the cries:”Charge! Forward, men! Strike, sons of this homeland!”. And the sons do strike. Bursts of weapons that do not cease. The voices of warriors. Groans. The drum thundering and echoing far away… A roar of battle. The smell of gunpowder. Hot blood flowing — and the flag, passed from hand to hand… Albanianhood is being tested. That Albanianhood may not perish. Bravery fights, rifle in hand, and falls there, on the field of honor. And the flag… was raised.
In this very moment, the drummer fixes his gaze on Dedë’s revolver, ready to accompany and spread the news of victory with the echo of his drum. One of the flag-bearers too has fixed his gaze on the muzzle — the flash — of Dedë Gjon Luli’s revolver. Their eyes — like lightning — meet in an instant, drawn to a hand that never tired of firing for Freedom, to a revolver now proclaiming Liberty.
On the left side of the painting, a young fighter, the third — perhaps the youngest — is looking toward the central warrior next to Dedë; more precisely, at his red xhamadan, and beyond, to the flag-bearer near him.
The flag-bearer, with his vest open (the breeze of Freedom cooling his chest), joins his right hand with that of his fellow fighter, their eyes both turned to the flag they just raised. Their hearts beat as one. Blessed are those who live such moments!
And I too, in this moment, gaze at that xhamadan, at the center of the painting, and I reflect…
I let my eyes travel to the four corners of the painting. But if I were to connect those corners with diagonal lines — tell me, dear reader, where do you think the meeting point would be? Let’s try. Do you see where they meet? In the heart of that man. There lies the center of the painting — not just in a mathematical or compositional sense, but above all, in meaning. Through it runs the line of symmetry, beginning (from bottom to top, from the base) at the other warrior in red, passing through the center, then through the hands of the two flag-bearers: “Together, O Marathon Runner!” (F.S. Noli, “Run, O Marathon Runner!”)
… to the flag-bearer, and ending at the eagle on the flag.
The Highlander carries Albanianhood in his heart.
“But no — Albanianhood was not extinguished:
Weary from the chains that cruelty forged upon it,
Weary from the darkness where enslavement cast it…”
(Ndre Mjeda, “Freedom”, verses 71–73)
Heroism runs in the blood. And the heart that does not tremble, the heroic heart, puts the spirit, mind, and hand into action… And then the hand raises the flag high, there on the peak, and the hearts of the fighters rejoice. We rejoice too. We appreciate the sacrifices and heroism and honor their blood forever.
Whenever I am present at the mourning gatherings, when, at the end, they drink to our national flag, I remember, from “The Heroism of Our People Through the Centuries,” also the battle of Deçiq, Deda Gjon Luli, and the brave men who fell there with the flag in their hands… “May the flag wave in the hands of Albanians and stand firm!” This wish, expressing the essence of our spirit, identity, and national ideal, brings before my eyes, among other things, this painting, this rare scene of heroism and triumph.
Please, everyone, focus your gaze once again on all the fighters, the victors of this historic battle! Now… let us focus on the flag raiser: How beautiful! Heroism is beautiful. The ideal is beautiful. Youth is beautiful. Freedom is beautiful. We observe his vest; red as blood, with black cords, like a repetition of the flag. The folk song: “The vest red as blood, red as blood.”
Blood and the flag. Blood and freedom. And there, in Deçiq, seven heroes spilled their blood, seven young men, seven good sons (“Oh, the poor sun of his mothers, oh!…”(“Oh, i mjeri i nanës, oh”) like seven Homers “In the Yellow Valleys where they fell.”) Seven martyrs, so the eighth hero could raise, there on the peak, the “victorious flag.” Therefore, their blood is precious, it is sacred, and forever and ever, it is unforgettable. May it be unforgettable!
The flag bearer; a young fighter, arms spread wide over the fortress, over rocks and stones, as if about to embrace Freedom. With a gaze full of love upon the mountain peaks, upon the legendary Castle, and upon Shkodra Loke. Like an eagle in flight… Beauty and Majesty. The Majesty of heroism. The poet (Ndre Mjeda), who sang to Freedom with passion, would say: “Majestic beauty!”
We cannot leave without greeting Deda, who in 1911 became the main leader of the Great Highlands Uprising. “Dedë Gjon Luli, who for more than 50 years was the heart, mind, and soul of all those Albanians who for their homeland ‘made their bones like wool’.” (Ndue Bacaj, Koplik: “A Small Portrait of the Great Patriot Dedë Gjon Luli.” Presentation on the 100th anniversary of his death. Magazine “Fjala,” No. 24, November 2015, page 6). He too has his gaze fixed on us, on the future. And Deda’s revolver? It still shoots flames…
Most of the fighters, with their rifles resting on their shoulders and their eyes on the target, look “Over them”…, others look at each other, the leader, and the flag. The flag bearer looks ahead to the horizon, Deda stands there among the highlanders with his revolver in hand and his gaze upon us.
And we, do we understand what he is telling us? Do we appreciate those sacrifices, that fight, and that blood? Yes!
Pogradec, 6 april 2016
https://www.zemrashqiptare.net
