Who Is Judging Kosovo’s History?
As Albania passes through one of the most difficult periods in its recent political life, another event continues to unsettle the Balkans’ memory and political balance. On 16 September, in The Hague, the first-instance convictions of four former Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA/UÇK) leaders reopened a deeply divisive question nearly thirty years after the Kosovo war: how can the memory of a struggle for liberation be reconciled with accountability for crimes committed during that conflict? The question extends far beyond the courtroom. It touches the history, identity and collective conscience of an entire people.
THE HAGUE VERDICT | A HISTORICAL INVESTIGATION
The Hague, 16 September 2026. Four men listen as a court delivers a judgement that weighs heavily on the Balkans’ recent history. These are not marginal figures: they are former leaders of the Kosovo Liberation Army, the KLA (UÇK), who played prominent roles in the war against Serbian rule and subsequently in the political life of independent Kosovo. A panel of the Kosovo Specialist Chambers convicts all four of war crimes in a first-instance judgement that is not final. In Pristina, some regard the decision as an affront to the struggle for national liberation; in Belgrade, others hail it as confirmation of their own interpretation of the war. Yet one crucial detail risks being lost amid the reactions: the judges did not put an entire people on trial, nor did they rule on the legitimacy of Kosovo’s independence. They assessed the criminal responsibility of four individuals.
That distinction is the starting point for understanding why the judgement of 16 September continues to provoke debate amid Albania’s protests in October. It also makes the case far more complex than any slogan, whether in support of or against the KLA.

Eighty-one years in total. But what facts did the court establish?
The first-instance sentences are specific: 25 years for Hashim Thaçi, the former president of Kosovo; 18 for Kadri Veseli; 13 for Rexhep Selimi; and 25 for Jakup Krasniqi. Time spent in pre-trial detention is credited towards the sentences. These are four individual, non-final sentences: the figure of 81 years is merely their arithmetic sum, not a collective punishment. Adding up the years, however, tells us little without examining the reasoning behind the verdict. The case turns on the facts and the degree of participation attributed to each defendant.

According to the findings in the first-instance judgement, the defendants made significant contributions to a common criminal purpose: targeting people regarded as opponents of the KLA’s political and military objectives. The victims did not belong to any single community. They included Kosovo Albanians associated with other political organisations, people suspected of ties to Yugoslav or Serbian authorities, and members of minorities, including Serbs and Roma. The court found responsibility for the arbitrary detention of at least 385 people, cruel treatment of at least 49, torture of at least 303 and the murder of 96 people. These categories of offences may overlap; the figures must not be added together as though they represented separate victims.
The official statement contains a particularly stark finding: according to the trial panel, many of those targeted were civilians baselessly accused of being spies or collaborators. That is why this case demands a view beyond the rhetoric of war. An accusation of betrayal does not become evidence merely because it is made by someone in uniform, even when it becomes a pretext for detention, torture or killing.
Acquittals that do not erase the convictions
There is, however, another essential part of the verdict. All four men were acquitted of the six counts of crimes against humanity, although convicted at first instance of war crimes. For that particular legal classification, the prosecution did not establish beyond reasonable doubt the existence of a widespread or systematic attack directed against a civilian population. The court also acquitted the defendants in relation to certain specific incidents charged as war crimes.
It is wrong to claim that the judgement found the defendants guilty of every charge. It is equally wrong to portray their acquittal of crimes against humanity as a complete acquittal. The judges distinguished between offences, legal elements and evidence. That is exactly what a court must do, especially when proceedings take place decades after events that remain contested in the memories of war.
The war before the trial
To understand why the KLA still symbolises resistance for many Kosovo Albanians, one must return to 1998–1999. The effective removal of Kosovo’s autonomy, which began in 1989, and repression by Serbian institutions had fuelled years of confrontation. The war brought massacres, displacement and mass expulsions. In 1999, NATO’s air campaign against the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and the subsequent international deployment changed the course of the conflict. On 17 February 2008, Kosovo declared independence, which Serbia still does not recognise.


International courts have also established crimes committed by Yugoslav and Serbian forces. In 2009, the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia convicted five senior officials over events connected to the campaign of violence and deportation against Kosovo Albanians. The Appeals Chamber subsequently upheld the convictions of four of them, while amending findings on specific counts and reducing some sentences. The 2026 judgement therefore does not rewrite the war by erasing crimes committed by Serbian forces. Equally, those crimes cannot diminish the suffering inflicted on other victims.
This is a dual historical truth that struggles to find space in public debate: a struggle against oppression may have been seen by an entire community as politically justified, while individuals who took part in that struggle may nonetheless bear responsibility for serious crimes. The court itself made clear that neither the legitimacy of the KLA nor Kosovo’s independence was on trial.
Why is a Kosovo court sitting in the Netherlands?
This is one of the less widely understood aspects of the case. The Kosovo Specialist Chambers are neither the International Criminal Court nor the former Yugoslavia tribunal. They were established within Kosovo’s legal system by legislation and a constitutional amendment adopted in 2015, even though they sit in The Hague and employ international personnel. Their mandate covers certain crimes committed between January 1998 and December 2000. Their location in the Netherlands also reflects the need to operate independently and to protect witnesses and victims.
The institutional process began with a Council of Europe report published in 2011 concerning serious abuses committed during and after the war, including allegations of organ trafficking. An EU-supported special investigation followed; new judicial institutions were then established. One widespread misunderstanding must be avoided: the fact that those allegations formed part of the political and investigative background to the court does not mean that the judgement of 16 September proved organ trafficking. That was not among the crimes for which these convictions were entered.
The trial of the four former leaders began on 3 April 2023. According to information released by the court, the panel received oral and written evidence from 273 witnesses, admitted 5,467 exhibits and produced 29,238 pages of transcripts. There were 156 victims admitted to participate in the proceedings. The judges also described a persistent climate of witness intimidation. These are not incidental details: they reveal both the complexity of establishing the facts and the particular vulnerability of those who chose to testify.

Pristina, Tirana, Belgrade: three conflicting interpretations
On 16 September, Kosovo’s prime minister Albin Kurti publicly challenged the ruling, describing it as an injustice, saying that it should be corrected on appeal and defending the history of Albanian resistance. That is an explicitly political position, not a finding of the court. Demonstrations in solidarity with the convicted men were held in Pristina and also in The Hague; for many participants, those names remain associated with liberation.
In Tirana, Edi Rama used even more succinct language. According to Albanian public broadcaster RTSH, he called the decision “madness” and wrote “Shame”, accompanying his message with an image of Europe surrounded by barbed wire. His reaction matters because it shows how the memory of the Kosovo war still shapes Albanian politics beyond state borders. It does not, however, establish any organisational connection with the demonstrations that would take place in Albania the following October.
In Belgrade, Serbian minister Ivica Dačić welcomed the decision as belated confirmation of allegations against the KLA. In his political response, Dačić drew conclusions about the entire organisation and the interpretation of the war; those are not findings of the judges. The court expressly limited the scope of its task: it did not collectively judge the KLA or declare its aspiration for independence illegitimate. Political statements and the legal boundaries of a judgement are not the same.
What the verdict does not establish about Albania’s October protests
The dates are close: less than a month separates the ruling of 16 September from the protests that erupted in Albania on 13 October. It is legitimate to ask whether tensions over Kosovo add to the region’s political atmosphere, and whether statements by governments shape public opinion. Yet the public sources examined so far do not provide sufficient evidence that the verdict caused the clashes in Tirana. Proximity in time does not, by itself, establish causation. Albania’s protests have documented domestic grievances, from education to corruption, as well as roots in earlier environmental mobilisation.
The legal story is also unfinished. The decision delivered on 16 September was a first-instance judgement, not a final and unappealable verdict. The Appeals Panel set 27 November 2026 as the deadline for the defence and prosecution to file notices of appeal; it is not the date on which the appeal will be decided. Only the further proceedings will determine which aspects of the judgement withstand appellate scrutiny.
The hardest question, then, is not whether to side with Pristina or Belgrade. It is how a society can defend the memory of its liberation while also listening to victims of crimes committed by some who fought for that liberation. The Hague has delivered a judicial answer, not the final word on the Balkans’ historical memory.
COMING NEXT: EPISODE 4 · EDI RAMA, POWER AND HIS POLITICAL HISTORY
Why was Edi Rama’s reaction so forceful? What relationship has he built over the years with Kosovo’s political legacy, and how did he become the man now leading Albania amid European ambitions and street protests? In the next episode, we return to the origins of his long political career.
FRANCESCA DI MATTEO · Albanian Chronicles
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