Gërdeci showed something deeper than an accident or a technical failure. He revealed the weakness of the state in the face of itself. When institutions have to investigate the decisions of other institutions, fear, hesitation and often compromise arise. And justice, instead of being decisive, becomes slow, tired and ultimately silent.
It has been 18 years since the tragedy of Gërdec. Eighteen years of pain, waiting, and a silence that weighs more heavily than the explosion itself that took 26 innocent lives and destroyed hundreds of families.
Time passed, governments came and went, reforms were promised, new institutions were established, but justice for Gërdec remained pending like a wound that was never allowed to heal.
On every anniversary, the same question is repeated: how is it possible that a tragedy with such great consequences has no clear responsibility?
How can an outbreak that shocked an entire country end without sentences that reflect the magnitude of the crime?
It is the result of a chain of command, of decisions made, of control that should have been exercised and that was not exercised. And this is precisely where the crux of the debate arises: responsibility cannot be abstract.
In every state structure there is a hierarchy. The army, more than any other institution, functions on the basis of vertical command and responsibility. Operational decisions, safety standards, technical control and supervision of activity are not daily political issues, but direct tasks of professional military structures. When a dangerous activity is carried out under military administration, responsibility cannot wander without an address.
If a process is allowed to proceed without safety standards, if warnings are not taken seriously, if control is lacking and the risk becomes apparent, then responsibility moves up the chain of command. It passes from the technical level to operational leaders and then to the highest military leadership where authorizations are signed, where procedures are verified and where the safety of citizens is guaranteed.
The answer does not lie solely in the law. It lies in the way responsibility was distributed, diluted, and ultimately disappeared among institutions. Each link in the chain claimed to have carried out orders, each structure passed the burden on to another, and thus the blame became anonymous.
When responsibility is divided among many hands, in the end there is no one left to hold it.
Responsibility for violations in Gerdec
The tragic event of Gërdec was not the result of the actions of the Minister of Defense, who had a political role.
Operational responsibility for the implementation of technical safety rules and internal factory regulations belonged to the General Staff and its leaders, who were obliged to control, supervise and prevent any violations that endangered the lives of employees and citizens.
Any failure in this chain is the direct responsibility of the military command, not politics.
Public opinion demanded political and moral responsibility. But the system produced only partial, small responsibilities, insufficient to represent the tragedy. Meanwhile, those who lost their families did not seek revenge; they only demanded one simple thing — admission of guilt and equal justice before the law.
Gërdeci showed something deeper than an accident or a technical failure. He revealed the weakness of the state in the face of itself. When institutions have to investigate the decisions of other institutions, fear, hesitation and often compromise arise. And justice, instead of being decisive, becomes slow, tired and ultimately silent.
Today, after so many years, the files are still mentioned, the investigations are still talked about, but the results are missing. Time has done what it often does in societies tired of scandal: it has dulled public anger. But for the families of the victims, time has never passed. For them, the clock has stopped at the moment of the explosion.
Silence has become the most painful symbol of Gërdec. Not only the silence of the institutions, but also the collective silence, the slow acceptance that some tragedies in this country never receive a full answer.
And perhaps that is the greatest injustice: not just the loss of lives, but the idea that responsibility can be diluted until no one bears its weight.
Gërdeci is not just a tragic memory. It is an open test for the Albanian state and justice. Because justice that is delayed for years risks no longer being justice but only unfinished history.
Until then, silence remains.
Lini një Përgjigje