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Dom Gjon Gazulli (March 26, 1893 – March 5, 1927) was hanged by King Ahmet Zogu, after opposing his agreement with the Serbs for the so-called “personal union of Albania with Yugoslavia”. The man who opened the first mixed school for boys and girls, Muslims and Christians, the opposition MP against Zogu, was accused of organizing the uprising, distributing weapons in the mountains and even cutting the telephone wire!? He was sentenced to hanging...
Dom Gjon Gazullit was sentenced to hanging by King Ahmet Zog.
Dom Gjon Gazulli was born in Dajç of Zadrima (Lezha), on March 26, 1893. After primary school in his hometown, he began his studies at the Pontifical Seminary of Shkodra. In 1912, he continued his studies in Rome, later in France, and then in Austria, but not always only for study reasons, but also for health reasons. He was ordained a priest on August 4, 1919.
He was a staunch opponent of King Zog's government, which discriminated against the entirely Catholic areas of Dukagjin, Puka and Mirdita. His insistence on condemning such a regime had consequences: on December 26, 1926, he was arrested. Soon enough, precisely on January 2, 1927, he was sentenced to death and hanged on March 5, 1927. His last words, reported by an eyewitness, were: "I am dying innocent. Long live Christ, our King! Long live the Catholic Church, our Mother! Long live the Pope, our Father! Long live Albania and the true Albanians!"
Dom Gjon Gazulli (March 26, 1893 – March 5, 1927) was hanged by King Ahmet Zogu, after opposing his agreement with the Serbs for the so-called “personal union of Albania with Yugoslavia”. The man who opened the first mixed school for boys and girls, Muslims and Christians, the opposition MP against Zogu, was accused of organizing the uprising and distributing weapons in the mountains and even cutting the telephone wire!? He was sentenced to hanging.
His execution is described in an interview with the German magazine "Korrespondenz des Priestergebetsve", by the officer in charge of hanging Dom Gjon, Xhemal Dibra: (taken from the article by Daniel Gazulli, published in "albemigrant": https://albemigrant2011.wordpress.com/2017/02/15/daniel-gazulli-martiri-i-atdheut-dom-gjon-gazulli/)
"It was 11 o'clock before midnight. The streets of Shkodra were still packed with people, because it was Eid. I gave the order to call the parish priest Gàzulli to the courtyard, because the Bishop wanted to speak with him. Gàzulli came down. I understand what was going to happen.
A Franciscan with the Sacrament stood before him (Father Martin Gjoka, DG note). … The Franciscan was speechless. The parish priest Gàzulli's face did not change at all… He took the Father's hand and said: “Father Martin, now you have to confess to me”. The Father asked the soldiers to gather around him so that he could leave. Since we did not leave, the Father said: – “Dom Gjon, confess, then, in Latin or Italian”. – “No, Father,” Gàzulli replied, the last Confession I want to make in my mother's language”. And so He confessed before our eyes. We, Mohammedans, pay little attention to such things, but we did not hear a sin from his mouth. Then the Father gave him a thin, white, round loaf of bread, which he swallowed with great devotion. It seemed to brighten up all his faces.
Now the prison door was opened, and we set off. The soldiers were in front, behind, and on both sides, more than ever. In the midst were Him and the Father. All the way they both prayed in loud voices, but I could tell that the Father's voice trembled, while the priest's voice sounded calm and clear. I have never seen such great courage in my life.
We had reached the place of death, in the Woodland. There was the death stake.
The magician was ready with a rope in his hand. An electric light shone brightly on the parish priest's face. He did not tremble at all. I was also afraid. I had wanted to accompany others to this miserable place, but now it was different. I was almost afraid of the calmness of this priest. He was completely innocent. We all knew that. But, command! As is my habit, I let him speak freely. But I had better not have done this! He began to speak in such a strong voice, with words so true and heartbreaking that I was really afraid. And if I had let him go on for too long with his words, he could have made us all turn away. I had to think about my responsibility. And I said to him briefly: Lord, we must not feel sorry! He spoke the last words. Enough!
Then He raised His voice and said to me: "I myself am dying innocently. Long live Christ, our King! May Albania and the true Albanians perish."
We were all very sad. I read the deka's decision. He was put on a white shirt. The Magjypi put a rope around his neck and removed the stone from under his leg. He was dead! - Thus spoke the captain. It was the day of March 5, 1927.
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