Wealthy family fled to Canada after massacre at their villa
ALBANIA BLAMED THEM FOR THE DEATHS BUT THEIR LEGAL BATTLE HERE IS OVER
There was a time when Musa Protoduari's family was among the richest and most prominent in Albania. His wife's grandfather was one of the signatories of the country's declaration of independence from the Ottoman Empire in 1912 and was prime minister in the 1920s.
After the Second World War, however, when a communist regime made Albania a satellite state of the Soviet Union, the family's property was confiscated and they fell into official disfavour.
Musa, now 76, became a construction engineer. His wife, Fatbardha, retained her family tradition of political activism. Musa was arrested eight times by the communist government.
Their fortunes rose again when the Iron Curtain fell and the Soviet Bloc dissolved in the 1990s. Their property was restored. Musa built a large villa for his family in the main square of his hometown of Ura Vajgurore.
As Albania struggled to build a democratic state and amid a financial scandal involving the governing party that the Protoduaris supported, chaos and violence took hold. Police and soldiers deserted, leaving their armouries to be looted, which helped turn protests and political rallies into firefights and civil war.
In the lead-up to new elections, one of Musa's sons, Edmond, was running for parliament for an anti-communist party and was shot twice, once seriously when he was on the balcony of the family's villa.
Not long after, the villa was hit by rocket fire during the night.
“It was turmoil,” Gentjan Protoduari, Musa's youngest son, said in an interview. “We had attack after attack after attack. It was complete chaos. There was no government, no police.”
Musa hired guards for the villa and the family fled to another city.
Then there was a massacre on their doorstep.
The June 17, 1997, battle between armed guards at the Protoduaris' villa and armed political opponents was of astounding proportions — a tank was on one side and an armoured vehicle on the other.
When the smoke cleared, there were four policemen and at least one civilian killed, and a dozen others were injured. An Albanian newspaper recently called it “one of the worst massacres the country has known.”
The attacks, the firefight, and reaction to it pushed Musa Protoduari and six members of his family to leave Albania and seek refugee protection in Canada — sparking a legal battle that raged behind closed doors for more than 12 years.
That battle ended this week, in the family's favour.
“We are so relieved,” Gentjan, the family's spokesman, said Thursday from his home in Montreal.
“Regardless of all the things that have gone on over the years, we are forever grateful for Canada to open the doors, because they really saved our lives. We're not talking about prosecution, we're talking about death, persecution of our family.”
The official court record in Albania paints a different picture. It holds the family culpable for the massacre. Musa, and his eldest son, Shkelqim Protoduari, 51, were convicted — in absentia — for creating and participating in an armed gang and, for Musa, the added charge of intentional murder of police. Musa was sentenced to life in prison and Shkelqim to 13 years.
Some media accounts in Albania portray Musa as a gangster or leader of an armed rebellion. The Protoduaris say it's a political smear campaign.
They say they were not present for their trial, did not have a lawyer representing them and could not call evidence. Court documents say that in the years since the case, the Albanian prosecutor was charged with international cocaine smuggling and the presiding judge dismissed for contact with organized crime.
While Canada refused to extradite them to Albania because “the evidence submitted does not meet Canadian legal requirements,” according to court records, Ottawa still moved to revoke their refugee status.
There is no dispute the family fled Albania in 1999 by truck to Spain before flying to the United States and then heading into Canada.
“We just wanted to get out. That was the main goal because our lives were in danger,” Gentjan said. “The smugglers we contacted back then, that's the route they were doing and recommending. We didn't know much about Canada, then.”
Their refugee claim was accepted in 1999 during an expedited process.
In 2011, Ottawa sought to vacate their refugee status, claiming the family withheld facts about the massacre.
“There was no information withheld and no reason to withhold it,” said Gentjan. “We had an interview with an (immigration) officer where we explained everything. We put everything on the table and opened our hearts to the Canadian government.”
Their refugee application form entered in court shows they answered “Yes” when asked if they were wanted by police or military in their country, and refers to the “massacre of Ura Vajgurore.” They left the details for the oral hearing, he said.
The government, however, didn't make or keep records of what was said at the hearing.
The refugee case lingered for years. The family at first lost, in 2014, but won an appeal for a new hearing. It took six years to convene that hearing, which the family won. The minister of public safety then appealed the decision to the Federal Court.
Federal Court Justice Yvan Roy said there was no proof the family's information was misleading or withheld, writing that the government held “a weak record” and a “less than stellar” case.
Roy said it's improbable a refugee hearings officer and an adjudicator would see a declaration that applicants were wanted by police with reference to a massacre, hold an hour-long hearing, and not ask about it.
Roy also criticized the Albanian convictions.
“There was no direct responsibility established by the judgment. These offences would have been committed by others who were present at the villa,” Roy wrote, and the judgment doesn't offer evidence the Protoduaris were there. It details the tragedy but doesn't outline elements of guilt.
“My father is nothing like what they portray,” Gentjan said.
“He was a businessman, and our main hope was the rule of law remain in place. My father is a construction engineer. My father was the least interested or capable of doing such things. He had nothing to do with guns and gangs or anything like that.
“We were reading stories about ourselves in the papers and getting lost in the article saying, `Who are they talking about?' They're portraying us as people coming from the woods or gangsters or mobsters.
“This is the end of the saga for us — in Canada,” Gentjan said.
The family is still trying to appeal the convictions in Albania. They have also appealed to the European Court of Human Rights.
“It's an emotional roller-coaster,” he said. “It's been a 23-year drain emotionally and financially.”
WE JUST WANTED TO GET OUT. THAT WAS THE MAIN GOAL BECAUSE OUR LIVES WERE IN DANGER.