The Supreme Court has taken the initiative to reform, through a unifying decision, the procedure for determining the security measure “prison arrest”. This is, without a doubt, a functional duty of that court — indeed, its main duty. The mission of the Supreme Court is to, through unifying decisions, detail the Code of Criminal Procedure and the law in general, clarifying the countless dilemmas that arise from their practical application and that the legislator could not have foreseen.
However, beyond this technical function, the specific issue seems to be burdened with prejudice. This burden is made concrete precisely by the political context, now that many high-ranking political figures have been placed under arrest in prison as a result of SPAK investigations. Albanian society — and above all the political class — is encountering such a strict application of the law for the first time, and has therefore begun to react against justice.
What is easily forgotten is the fact that detention is not a consequence of a violation of procedure by prosecutors, but of the fact that corruption and organized crime are phenomena deeply embedded in the structures of power. It is normal and proportionate, therefore, for the reaction of the judiciary to be harsh. This is also due to the fact that those in power have the means and ability to influence or obstruct investigations — which directly increases the procedural risk that justifies detention. To forget this is to tacitly accept that before the law some are more equal than others.
The anti-justice psychosis has been fueled mainly by the Prime Minister, who has seen many of his associates fall into the SPAK nets. He has started citing Council of Europe reports or other international documents — documents that exist and will always exist, but whose selectivity of reference makes them serve a purpose other than the one for which they were drafted. It is worrying that the international institution, created as the guardian of the rule of law, is being used as a rhetorical tool to weaken it.
The Prime Minister has placed himself, publicly, at the forefront of the opponents of justice — not only in rhetoric, but also in concrete political and institutional initiatives. This positioning is not accidental: he builds a narrative where SPAK is presented as an unjust instrument, paving the way for public opinion to accept any eventual weakening of it.
In this context, the Supreme Court's move is also subject to legitimate suspicion. 15 years have passed since 2011, when it adopted the last unifying decision on security measures. It is assumed that the practical implementation of the relevant provisions has already reached a consolidated level. What has happened, then, that now — for laws that have not undergone fundamental changes — the need for the Supreme Court's intervention arises?
The only logical answer is this: what is new is not the law, but its application to those in power. SPAK, for the first time, is treating high-ranking officials the same way it treats any other citizen. This, and only this, is the change. But this change is not a justified reason to modify, through a judicial decision, a consolidated practice. On the contrary, this equal application of the law is exactly what was expected and intended by the justice reform. In a state governed by the rule of law, equality before the law is not an anomaly — it is the foundation.
The prejudice is further compounded by the fact that some of the political figures placed under arrest have already filed requests for the change of this measure in the Supreme Court. It should be carefully observed whether this unifying decision will serve as a precursor mechanism — a kind of “institutional opening” — to pave the way for their requests.
Meanwhile, the political majority gave the first clear signal of opposition to justice, in the case of not lifting Balluk's immunity. It would be devastating — both for the image of the reform and for the consolidation of the rule of law — for justice to now be subjected to this political behavior, through some procedural trick. The history of the countries of the region shows that when the judiciary falters under political pressure precisely at key moments, citizens' trust in institutions is destroyed for decades.
If the unifying decision results in narrowing the criteria for ordering detention in prison, we will be dealing with something much more serious than a judicial error: we will be instrumentalizing the judicial power to serve political power. This would practically mark the capitulation of justice reform — not from the outside, but from within.
If, on the other hand, the decision is technically neutral — standardizing the procedure without narrowing the material criteria — the doubt will remain as a shadow, but the court would have acted within its constitutional mandate. The final judgment, therefore, does not depend on the timing of the decision, but on its content. Let us wait and see whether Sokol Sadushi's move is made in order to strengthen the standards for pre-trial detention or whether it aims to open a door of escape for Edi Rama's collaborators who are now facing justice.
