It Is Not Only Pre-Trial Detention — The Reform Has Undermined the Fair Trial Process

by Skënder Minxhozi (Tirana)

As expected, the Joint Colleges unanimously approved the commendable initiative of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Sokol Sadushi, to unify judicial decisions related to pre-trial detention measures. It is a delayed but essential step, given the scandalous overcrowding of Albanian prisons with individuals who have not been convicted.

It is also a step that highlights the urgent need for correction and recalibration in Albania’s justice system today. A decade after its launch, the reform has now revealed both its strengths and its deep structural flaws. The vetting process appears to have allowed through individuals who should never have been entrusted with the authority of the new system, while the backlog of untried cases continues to grow—despite promises to the contrary. All this unfolds at a moment when Albania is moving toward European Union accession, where justice—not punishment—is the foundational principle of a modern democracy.

Within this landscape, the special justice system has become the most scrutinized and debated component. Not because the rest of the judiciary does not merit attention, but because the new system was meant to be insulated from the pathologies of the old order—where justice could be bought and where political or economic power ensured either immunity or preferential treatment.

The unification of decisions on pre-trial detention is a constructive corrective. But it is only a first step. What is required now is a serious and comprehensive reassessment of the entire system shaped by the reform. In that system, one feature stands out with particular force: the figure of the all-powerful prosecutor, equipped with sweeping and effectively unchecked authority. This is the new dominant actor—one that shows little regard for rights and freedoms, particularly when the reform itself enables such conduct.

The reform effectively put the cart before the horse by placing a loaded weapon in the hands of the special prosecution, granting it the ability to intimidate courts by subjecting them to investigation or surveillance whenever even minimal suspicion arises that they may not deliver the outcomes it seeks in cases where it is a party. The system handed over the weapon without establishing a clear doctrine for its use—amounting, in practice, to a license to act at will. It is telling that the former head of SPAK once remarked, in what can only be described as a Freudian slip, that courts ultimately deliver the decisions “we want.”

This profound imbalance of power within the criminal process has eroded the process itself. Today, there is no genuinely fair and impartial trial within the special justice system. What exists instead is a climate of fear and submission, with the Special Court (GJKKO) effectively subordinated to the prosecution. That climate now appears to be spreading across the broader justice system.

It may seem paradoxical, but it is not, that cases involving senior officials—former presidents, mayors, ministers, and members of parliament—have become the focal point of this dynamic. Beyond speculation that such focus serves to shield them, the underlying reality is more complex. First, every individual is entitled to a fair investigation and trial. Second, if individuals of such power are treated in this manner, one must ask: what happens to the ordinary citizen—someone without political backing, financial means, or media protection—who becomes little more than a statistic in a system where prosecutors and judges publicly boast about the number of imprisonments secured?

The degree of dependence and fear that now characterizes the relationship between special judges and prosecutors has produced situations that would have been unusual even under the communist-era judiciary. Judges, rather than prosecutors, are seen requesting additional investigations in cases such as that of Ilir Beqaj—developments that Beqaj and his legal team have repeatedly highlighted in public. Ilir Meta has raised serious complaints about violations of his rights as an accused and detained individual. Meanwhile, Erion Veliaj faces accusations from anonymous, unidentifiable sources, while remaining in pre-trial detention alongside a former president and a former minister—even after investigations have been completed and the cases transferred to court.

The situation becomes almost surreal. In a recent motion by Veliaj’s legal team to modify his detention measure, prosecutors argued that he should remain imprisoned because he had hired foreign lawyers and might use them to influence his release. Such reasoning has no place in a system that claims to represent a new standard of justice.

Pre-trial detention is undeniably a major issue within Albania’s justice system today. The intervention of the Supreme Court seeks to impose order on a system increasingly driven by punitive logic—one that has eclipsed the principle of judicial neutrality between parties.

But detention measures are merely the entry point to the broader process of administering justice. The disproportionate empowerment granted to the special prosecution—originally intended to break the culture of impunity—has produced a system that now risks undermining its own foundations. It has created a kind of institutional “Frankenstein,” eroding the very mechanism at the heart of justice: the courtroom must belong to the judge, not the prosecutor.

This is the central failure of the reform. It is a failure that demands urgent correction. Without addressing it, no real progress has been made.