As of 2025, it is likely that outside of Albania, very few inhabitants of the planet Earth recall who Enver Hoxha was. This is a conundrum.
On one hand, recognition that Hoxha existed might be taken as approval of his record as brutal dictator. On the other, without remembering who Hoxha was and what he did, we’re more likely to be ignorant of the warning signs if someone like him comes around again.
Far more readers understand the current situation in hermetic North Korea, so perhaps it is easier to think of Hoxha as a nominally communist dictator in the fashion of the Kim family (a paranoic cult of personality). Hoxha presided over the North Korea of Europe from 40 years until his death in 1985, after which his impoverished surveillance state trundled unsteadily forward until its wheels at last fell off in 1991, whereupon Albania’s return to the European mainstream left it the poorest country on the continent.
Albania became independent only in 1912 following centuries of Ottoman occupation, subsequently traversing two World Wars and the ensuing communist period. Add it all together, and when I first toured the country in 1994, it seemed that the recovery was going to take a long, long time.
But that’s why I cheer for the underdogs, not Elon Musk.
The cost of living in Albania is low, because per capita income is around $10K annually; however, this is an improvement. Tirana is ahead, and the countryside behind. Most of the economic indicators show steady improvement during the three decades between my visits. Nothing’s ever neat and clean, and Albania is still considered a developing country.
Three decades is a lifetime, and to me, Tirana was unrecognizable. I’d hazard a guess that for residents who are my age, this is a good thing.
In 1994 I made it a point to seek out Enver Hoxha’s house, located in the neighborhood called Blloku, which during communism was the district where the elites lived; not walled off, but heavily policed and controlled. By dictatorial standards, this house might be viewed as modest even with a hundred rooms, and hardly a Stalinist Gothic palace; still, I can attest that in 1994 it stood out from the smudgy urban landscape nearby.
That’s all in the past. Blloku is now a trendy Bohemian area, and tall new buildings have popped up on all sides of Hoxha’s refuge. The view of the building itself has barely changed at all.
I must have been standing in the same spot, 31 years apart. Here are two more views from 2025.
Note the delightful incongruity of the sign: Lincoln Center Tirana, from the Abraham Lincoln Foundation of Albania.
In 1997, Lincoln Centers of Albania was founded by an American board of directors as a not-for-profit foundation. Lincoln Centers of Albania has served more than 70,000 students from different walks of life, from children to the business community. Located in two beautiful villas in the center of Tirana, they are one of the first and most distinctive language schools in Albania, licensed by the Ministry of Education and Sports in Albania.
And one of those villas belonged to Hoxha. In a 2019 article by Shaun Walker at The Guardian, plans for future use were discussed.
The house that Hoxha built: dictator’s villa to become public space
Inside, the walls are adorned with socialist realist art, while multiple living rooms are equipped with chunky Albanian-made television sets, on which Hoxha and his wife would on occasion watch video footage of the torture and interrogation of those accused of being political opponents. The multiple doors to Hoxha’s bedroom have soundproof cushioned cladding, while in the basement there is a swimming pool and an escape door leading to a tunnel, through which the paranoid Hoxha could flee to an underground bunker in case of attack.
This follow-up appeared in February just before we left home for the trip that included Tirana.
The home of Albania’s late communist dictator is now hosting what he despised most: Free thinkers, by Llazar Semini (Associated Press)
Now surrounded by high-rises, trendy bars, posh restaurants and pulsating nightclubs, the villa itself has undergone a transformation, complete with a fresh coat of paint — though the ostentatious downstairs hall with marble floors is still there.
Gone are the heavy curtains that blocked sunlight. Long silent walls will from now on echo with poetry readings, experimental theater, film screenings and contemporary art exhibits. The rooms offer workshops and shared areas for 23 artists from 15 countries.
The last word goes to this magazine cover from 1982.
