Drenica and the economics of violence from UCK and ISIS to Faton Hajrizi

Written for Kosovo Online by Srdjan Garcevic, founder of The Nutshell Times

The life and death of Faton Hajrizi, the Kosovo Albanian self-identified former UCK member who killed Nikola Krsmanović, a Serbian policeman and wounded another officer in Loznica while using German documents from his brother, serve as a cautionary tale for how the continued economic underdevelopment under the Priština authorities fuels old sources of hate and instability.

Born in 1985, just as the tensions in Kosovo and Metohija started rising, Hajrizi took up early the violent trade, which made his mountainous home region of Drenica infamous for centuries. Already as a teenager, in 2000, he killed a Russian soldier, and that was just the start of his criminal career, which included murders, attempted murders and robberies. In his TikToks, he claimed affiliation with UCK and that he was “serving his country” in the north of Kosovo and Metohija, presumably molesting the Serbs that resisted Priština authorities repeated attacks. Yet, in an ironic yet predictable turn, he felt that Priština authorities betrayed him by locking him up in a series of dingy prisons, which offered little in terms of his future and from which he could only try and escape. His last attempt ended with his death in a clash with the Serbian police inside the dilapidated remains of the Viskoza petrochemical plant by Loznica. 

Drenica’s age-old violent craft

Underdeveloped and badly connected to the rest of the world, Drenica is one of several places in the Dinaric mountains whose key economic activity and export for a long time has been crime. 

Drenica’s violent craft has significantly progressed since the early 20th century, when it was combined with political goals, whether it was Albanian irredentism or Islamic state fundamentalism.

Since the area was liberated from the Ottoman Empire in the Balkan Wars, the armed attacks of local gangs led by Azem Bejta made the area a no-go zone for the Yugoslav forces until 1924. Bejta was the first of the many Drenica bandits to understand that his craft would prosper the most when employed in a political context. He joined the Albanian irredentist because he wanted the area to become part of Albania.

During WWII, a number of Drenica residents joined the SS Skanderbeg unit and fought with the Axis forces against the Serbs. The Axis loyalists, once again carrying the idea of Greater Albania, continued their attacks against the Partisans until 1945 when they were finally defeated. While SFRY poured significant resources into developing Kosovo, due to its remoteness, Drenica’s residents did not benefit as much and returned to their age-old practices in the 1990s.

Adem Jashari, whose main motivation, according to Tim Judah, was simply hatred of Serbs, rather than any real ideology, was one of the founders of UCK who launched many attacks on Yugoslav authorities and was killed in Prekaz in 1998. A more successful Drenica native is Hashim Thaci, the leader of UCK, who now stands trial for war crimes and is often accused of involvement in global organized crime through organized crime.

While one would have hoped that having a Drenica native at the top of the self-proclaimed government in Priština would help the locals move on from violence and poverty, the opposite was the case. During the heyday of the Islamic state, Kosovo and Metohija provided the highest number of ISIS recruits per capita, most of them from Drenica. The other, more successful option for young men from Drenica was joining organized crime, which unfortunately still lands many Albanians – from both Kosovo and Metohija and Albania - headlines in European and global media. The final option, taken by Faton Hajrizi’s brother, was to leave for other employment in Germany, Switzerland, the UK or Italy, which led to the region's depopulation. 

No alternatives?

While it would be easy to moralize against the path people like Hajrizi take, as an economist, I cannot but see that as a rational decision. The region was woefully underdeveloped despite much investment by Yugoslavia into Kosovo and Metohija, which is most obvious in structures like the National Library in Priština and the power plant in Obilić. The clashes during the 1990s and the NATO bombing made it even more so, and by the time Hajrizi was of age, crime and violence probably seemed like the most lucrative and sensible option for a young man.

The greatest tragedy is that the prospects of young men from Drenica have not changed much, not only since the 2000s but probably since the 1920s. Priština authorities and the countries backing them have failed, and perhaps never really intended, to bring economic prosperity to the region. While there was investment in infrastructure, few real industries would employ young men and give them a path to a good life in Kosovo and Metohija. If you add to that that being skilled in areas required for organized crime – not only violence but also logistics and maintaining a criminal network - is becoming rarer and thus commands a higher price from organizations like ISIS and similar structures in the increasingly unstable world, it is no wonder it is becoming attractive to people from depressed regions where these skills are easy to acquire through familial and community connections. Sadly, the only other industry that seems to thrive in Kosovo and Metohija, as in other Balkan societies, is the foreign-aid-backed cottage industry of intensifying local grievances, which similarly leads to radicalization but is, in the long run, even less conducive to development and is less open to young men from rural areas.

While it is naïve to think that just employing people in factories like Viskoza in Loznica, where Hajrizi had his final clash with the Serbian police, would have prevented them from turning into criminals and would end all national hostilities, it would undoubtedly provide a path to a more normal and prosperous life. However, the leaders of Drenica’s gangs were wise enough to realize that progress would be their demise.

Like the local magnates intent on stopping progress in Ismail Kadare’s novel, the Three-Arched Bridge, they were and still are blocking any alternatives to come to Drenica, always at the cost of young men’s lives, now not only Serbian policemen but also many around the world.