"A 2008 article that sounds like it was written yesterday. The lessons that Albanian politics has not yet learned."
Citizens of every cultural and educational level, of every age and generation, offer daily lessons in civility, cooperation, and appreciation — lessons that politics would do well to heed. In a country like ours, where politics often seeks to dominate rather than listen, these lessons take on special importance.
Everyday experience — spontaneous and often unspoken — carries values that must not be ignored. These thoughts came to me while watching an Italian TV show called Super Varieté, which included segments from the musical show Ti lascio una canzone, produced by RAI 1.
I initially tuned in out of curiosity, but its quality kept me engaged. The show, hosted with simplicity and dignity by Antonella, took place in the legendary Ariston Theatre in Sanremo — a choice that itself showed respect for the audience and art.
I'm no expert in judging artistic aspects, though I’m a passionate music lover. What struck me was the richness of the messages conveyed — messages that resonate deeply with Albanian politics. In an era when globalization makes values more fluid than ever, good lessons know no borders.
On stage, well-known Italian singers passed on one or more of their beloved songs to talented children. This was more than a performance — it was a symbolic act of passing down heritage from one generation to the next. The songs spanned different eras and styles: from “Caruso” to Adriano Celentano, from Albano to Lucio Dalla, from Mina to Massimo Ranieri — a whole universe of Italian music.
The jury included permanent and rotating members, but the final decision was made by the public via televoting.
From this experience, I drew two simple but essential lessons:
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Values are built on heritage, not on emptiness. Just as in music, sustainable development in politics requires a strong foundation. But in Albania, the “zero theory” often dominates — as if everything starts anew with us.
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Heritage demands care and respect. It is like a fragile crystal that needs a gentle hand to be carried forward. Its creators must be recognized and valued. Unfortunately, in our politics, the opposite often happens: the contribution of predecessors is hidden, replaced by new storytellers who act as if everything begins with them.
A particularly touching moment was when children sang alongside the original singers. It was a beautiful act of coexistence with history before embarking on their own independent journey. In Albanian politics, on the contrary, exclusion and zero-sum mentalities prevail — breaking the chains of intergenerational and inter-institutional cooperation.
Another striking element was that, although the children sang, the original melody lines remained intact. They brought their own timbre without distorting the essence. This is how true values work: they are refined, not overturned. Neither art, science, nor politics can achieve sustainable progress without recognition and continuity.
The public played an important role as well. It often corrected the jury and maintained a balance between emotion and reason. This is another valuable lesson for politics: citizen participation is not just a formal act to legitimize power, but a tool to ensure justice, maturity, and continuity.
In the end, the winning song was performed by all the children together. A natural and symbolic finale: the greatest value is created through collaboration.
Unfortunately, in Albanian politics, individualism and narrow party calculations still prevail. Everyone sees themselves as the center of history, overshadowing the work and contributions of others. But it is the public — the everyday citizen — who delivers the most accurate assessment. They judge not only what is done, but how the shared heritage is preserved, respected, and developed.
Only then can there be a guarantee for the future.
