Kongresi i Manastirit – November 22 & the Birth of the Albanian Alphabet (1908)

Every people has a moment in which it learns to spell itself out. For the Albanians, that moment fell on a cool November day in 1908, in the town of Manastir – today's Bitola in North Macedonia. From November 14 to 22, delegates from every Albanian region gathered there, from the north and the south, Muslims, Catholics and Orthodox, teachers, priests, poets and patriots, to settle a question that sounds banal and yet decided the fate of an entire nation: with which letters do we write Albanian? The Kongresi i Manastirit – the Congress of Manastir – gave the answer and thereby laid the foundation for the unified Albanian alphabet that is still used today in Tirana, Prishtina, Skopje and in every diaspora kitchen between Munich and Zurich. November 22, the closing day, has since been celebrated as Dita e Alfabetit, the Day of the Alphabet. This article tells how a dispute over written characters became a foundation of national identity – and why the Albanian language is more valuable than ever today, especially for the diaspora.

Why an alphabet can decide the fate of a nation

Language is more than a tool of communication. It is the storehouse of memory, the vessel of songs, the bond between grandmother and grandchild. For the Albanians around 1900, the gjuha shqipe, the Albanian language, was the last thing that still belonged to them unbroken after centuries of foreign rule. They had no country of their own, no recognized borders, no government. But they had a language older than most European national languages, one that stands as an independent branch within the Indo-European language family – with no close relatives, a linguistic one-of-a-kind in the Balkans.

The only problem was: this language was written in a patchwork of different scripts. In the south some used the Greek alphabet, in the Muslim-influenced milieu Albanian was often written in Arabic-Ottoman script, Catholic clergy in the north reached for Latin letters, and in between circulated idiosyncratic inventions with Cyrillic borrowings. A text from Shkodra was sometimes indecipherable to a reader from Korça. Whoever wants to unite a nation must first ensure that its people can read one another. That was precisely the quiet, immense task of Manastir.

The prehistory: Albanian writing before 1908

The history of written Albanian reaches far back before the congress. The oldest known Albanian written record is the Formula e Pagëzimit, the baptismal formula of 1462, recorded by Pal Engjëlli, the archbishop of Durrës and a companion of Skanderbeg. The first printed Albanian text followed in 1555 with the Meshari ("Missal") of the priest Gjon Buzuku – a monumental work that captured the language of the 16th century in Latin script with special characters. Later, authors such as Pjetër Bogdani and Frang Bardhi likewise wrote their works in Latin-based systems.

Yet alongside these, entirely different traditions existed. The so-called Bejtexhinj literature of the 18th century, shaped by oriental poetry, used the Arabic script. In the 19th century, Naum Veqilharxhi designed a completely independent alphabet in order to avoid any suspicion of foreign influence. The famous Frashëri brothers too – Naim, Sami and Abdyl – worked with a system of their own, the so-called Stamboller alphabet, which originated in Istanbul and mixed Greek and Latin elements. The Catholic society of Shkodra, in turn, favored the "Bashkimi" alphabet, which used exclusively Latin letters and dispensed with special characters that were hard to print. Around 1900, then, at least half a dozen spelling systems competed. Each had its champions, its printing presses, its newspapers – and its limits.

The Congress of Manastir: November 14 to 22, 1908

The timing was no coincidence. In July 1908, the Young Turk Revolution had shaken the Ottoman Empire and, for a brief moment, promised freedom of press and assembly. The Albanian patriots seized this window. The literary club "Bashkimi" of Manastir invited delegates to a great congress, and what followed was one of the most remarkable cultural-political assemblies in Albanian history. Manastir was deliberately chosen: a wealthy, multiethnic trading city with a strong Albanian presence and modern printing infrastructure.

From November 14 to 22, 1908, delegates from 23 towns and associations gathered here, some fifty voting participants in all. They came from the mountainous north and the Tosk south, from Kosovo, from Manastir itself, from the diaspora in Istanbul, Bucharest, Sofia and Egypt. This composition was itself a message: across confessional and regional boundaries, they came together to create something shared. As chairman the assembly elected Mid'hat Frashëri, a young, widely traveled intellectual from the famous Frashëri family.

The debates were heated. It was not only about technical questions of orthography, but about worldviews. Should one use exclusively Latin letters – at the risk of being seen as "too Western" or "too Catholic"? Or should one take account of the Ottoman-Muslim tradition and preserve Arabic elements? Some feared that a purely Latin alphabet might provoke the Ottomans and alienate the Muslim majority of the population. Others argued that only the Latin script opened the gate to Europe, to education, science and progress.

The decision: a commission, a compromise, an alphabet

To turn the dispute into a resolution, the congress elected an eleven-member commission chaired by the great poet Gjergj Fishta, a Franciscan from the north who enjoyed respect across all camps. The commission withdrew, deliberated for three days and in the end presented a pragmatic compromise. Instead of committing to a single existing system, they essentially agreed on two permissible alphabets: the pure "Bashkimi" alphabet and a modified Stamboller alphabet. Both were Latin-based.

That was the real historic breakthrough. For by having both permitted variants rest on Latin letters, the direction was decisively set. In practice, the purely Latin system quickly prevailed, which managed without complicated special characters and instead used letter combinations – so-called digraphs – to represent Albanian sounds for which the Latin alphabet has no characters of its own. From the compromise of Manastir grew, within a few years, the unified alphabet we know today: 36 letters, built on a Latin foundation, supplemented by two special characters and nine digraphs.

The Albanian alphabet: 36 letters explained

The modern Albanian alphabet consists of 36 letters. Seven of them are vowels (a, e, ë, i, o, u, y), the rest consonants. What is special: Albanian is written largely as it is spoken. Each letter generally stands for exactly one sound – an enormous advantage in learning to read, especially for children in the diaspora who are spelling German at the same time.

Two characters catch the eye at once. The ç with the little loop (the cedilla) sounds like the "ch" in "church" – think of the instrument çifteli. And the ë, the famous Ë with the two dots, is perhaps the most Albanian of all letters. It sounds muffled, schwa-like, similar to the unstressed "a" in "about", and at the end of a word is often so faint that it remains barely audible – and yet it is everywhere: in Shqipëria (Albania), in zë (voice), in ëmbël (sweet).

Then there are the nine digraphs – two letters that together yield a single sound. It is worth looking at them once, consciously:

• dh – a soft, voiced "th" as in the English "this"; heard in dhomë (room).
• th – a hard, voiceless "th" as in the English "think"; as in thikë (knife).
• gj – a soft "dj", similar to the Hungarian gy; heard in the name Gjergj or in gjuha (language).
• nj – like the Spanish "ñ" or the "ny" in "canyon"; as in një (one).
• ll – a dark, hard "l" formed far back in the mouth; heard in llum.
• rr – a rolled, powerful "r", stronger than the simple r; in rrugë (street).
• sh – the English "sh"; ubiquitous in Shqiponja, the eagle.
• xh – a voiced "j" as in "jungle"; as in xhami (mosque).
• zh – a soft "zh" like the "s" in "measure"; heard in zhurmë (noise).

Anyone who has internalized these nine combinations can pronounce almost any Albanian word correctly. That was precisely the ingenious idea behind the system of Manastir: not a forest of special characters that no printing press could set, but an elegant solution using the Latin letters found on every typewriter and later on every keyboard in the world.

The key figures of Manastir

Behind every great historical event stand people of flesh and blood. The Congress of Manastir gathered some of the brightest minds of the Albanian Rilindja Kombëtare, the national rebirth.

Gjergj Fishta (1871–1940), a Franciscan father from the Zadrima region, was the chairman of the decisive alphabet commission. Fishta is still considered one of the greatest Albanian poets of all; his epic Lahuta e Malcís ("The Highland Lute") is a national monument in verse. That, of all people, a Catholic clergyman from the north led the commission and in doing so sought reconciliation with the Muslim and Orthodox delegates was a powerful sign of the trans-confessional idea of the Albanian nation.

Mid'hat Frashëri (1880–1949), chairman of the congress, came from what is probably the most famous patriot family in Albania. As a publicist, diplomat and later politician, he embodied the bridge between the generation of the Rilindja and the independent Albania of the 20th century.

Ndre Mjeda (1866–1937), likewise a clergyman, poet and linguist from Shkodra, contributed his philological expertise. He had studied the sound structure of Albanian intensively and was an ardent advocate of a consistent, phonetic alphabet.

And finally Parashqevi Qiriazi (1880–1970) – one of the few, but all the more significant, women. As a teacher and delegate of the congress, she stood for the close connection between alphabet and education. Together with her sister Sevasti and her brother Gjerasim, the Qiriazi family had founded the first Albanian girls' school in Korça in 1891. Parashqevi wrote school primers and knew: an alphabet is only useful if it is taught. She embodied the idea that language and school belong together – an insight that could hardly be more current for today's diaspora.

Alphabet and national rebirth: the road to independence in 1912

The Congress of Manastir was not an isolated cultural event, but part of a broad movement: the Rilindja Kombëtare, the Albanian national rebirth of the 19th and early 20th centuries. This movement rested on three pillars – language, school and national consciousness. Whoever had a unified script could print unified schoolbooks. Whoever had schoolbooks could teach children. And whoever raised an educated youth conscious of itself laid the foundation for a state of their own.

The Ottoman authorities recognized this explosive force very well. Only a few months after the congress the mood turned; Albanian schools and newspapers were again put under pressure, the Latin alphabet even temporarily banned, because it was seen as a symbol of separation. But the genie was out of the bottle. The letters could no longer be gathered back in.

Only four years later, on November 28, 1912, Ismail Qemali proclaimed the independence of Albania in Vlora – the Dita e Flamurit, the Day of the Flag. It is no coincidence that between the Day of the Alphabet (November 22, 1908) and the Day of the Flag (November 28, 1912) lie only a few years and a few days in the calendar. First the nation was spelled out, then it was proclaimed. The script preceded statehood. Anyone who wishes to understand the deeper symbolism of the Albanian eagle behind this will find it described in detail in our article on the double-headed eagle Shqiponja.

Dita e Alfabetit: November 22 as a holiday

Dita e Alfabetit – the Day of the Alphabet – is observed every year on November 22, the closing day of the Congress of Manastir. In Albania, in Kosovo, in North Macedonia and everywhere Albanians live, schools, cultural associations and families commemorate this day. It is a quiet, dignified holiday – not with fireworks and car convoys like the Dita e Flamurit, but with poetry recitals, exhibitions, school celebrations and the quiet pride of possessing one of the oldest languages in Europe in a script of its own, well thought out.

In Bitola, the historic Manastir, a memorial museum today commemorates the congress. For many Albanians a visit there is a kind of pilgrimage to the roots of their own written culture. Anyone who has November 22 in the calendar understands: on this day the Albanians celebrate not an event of the past, but something they use daily – every text message to their mother, every comment under a family photo, every children's book is a small echo of Manastir. A compact overview of all the important commemorative days and holidays is offered by our article on the Albanian and Kosovar holidays.

The Albanian language in the diaspora today

For the Albanian diaspora in the German-speaking region – in Germany, Austria and Switzerland – the story of Manastir is anything but abstract. It is lived everyday reality and a daily challenge at the same time. The second and third generation grow up bilingual, sometimes trilingual. At home Albanian rings out, at school German, in the schoolyard everything mixes. And again and again the question arises: how do we pass the gjuha shqipe on to the children when hardly anyone speaks it outside?

The answer of the Rilindja still holds today: through school and conscious cultivation. In many DACH cities there is supplementary mother-tongue instruction, often on Saturdays, carried by associations and dedicated teachers – spiritual heirs of Parashqevi Qiriazi. There children learn precisely those 36 letters that were decided in Manastir in 1908. They practice the ë, the ç, the digraphs, they read their first Albanian sentences. And they experience something precious: that their heritage language is not just a kitchen language, but a written language with literature, history and dignity.

Preserving language in the diaspora is work – but it is also love. It is the small rituals that count: the Albanian children's book on the nightstand, the grandmother's song, the greeting card in Albanian script for a birthday, the shared card game on family evening, at which shqip is spoken quite naturally. Each of these rituals keeps a piece of Manastir alive. For an alphabet does not die through bans – it dies through disuse. And it lives through everyone who passes it on.

Why the Latin alphabet was the right choice

From today's perspective, the decision of Manastir seems almost self-evident. But it was visionary. Had they decided back then on the Arabic or an exotic script of their own, the Albanian language community would have been cut off from the European world of writing. Instead, the delegates chose a system that was compatible – with the printing presses of Europe, with international education, later with typewriters, computer keyboards and smartphones.

Imagine an Albanian child in Stuttgart having to learn a completely foreign script today in order to write to its grandmother in Prizren. Instead, it uses the same basic letters as in German class, supplemented by a few Albanian particularities. This bridge, this coexistence of closeness and independence, the Albanians owe to the men and women of Manastir. They, without being able to suspect it, thought ahead to the diaspora of the 21st century.

For whom is a language gift the right choice?

Anyone who wants to bring joy to an Albanian-speaking person who holds language and culture dear has many options – for every budget:

• Under €20: The Albanien Playing Cards (€9.99) for the family evening or a fine double-headed eagle necklace (€16.99) as a subtle symbol of identity.
• Statement gift: The Na jemi Një Oversized T-Shirt (€37.99) with the message "We are one" – an avowal of linguistic and national unity.
• A personal touch: Complement any present with the gift option including an Albanian greeting card (€4.99) – a few lines of shqip, handwritten, often weigh more than the gift itself.

Thus a present becomes a small homage to Manastir: to give language is to pass on identity.

Frequently asked questions about the Congress of Manastir and the Albanian alphabet

When did the Congress of Manastir take place? The Kongresi i Manastirit met from November 14 to 22, 1908, in the town of Manastir, today's Bitola in North Macedonia. The closing day, November 22, is celebrated as Dita e Alfabetit, the Day of the Alphabet.

How many letters does the Albanian alphabet have? The modern Albanian alphabet comprises 36 letters: 7 vowels and 29 consonants. These include the two special characters ç and ë as well as nine digraphs (dh, gj, ll, nj, rr, sh, th, xh, zh), each representing a sound of its own.

Why was the congress so important? Before 1908, Albanian was written in several competing scripts – Latin, Greek, Arabic and in home-grown developments. The congress agreed on a unified, Latin-based alphabet and thereby created the foundation for common schoolbooks, newspapers and a unified national consciousness.

Who were the most important figures? Among the key figures are Mid'hat Frashëri (chairman of the congress), Gjergj Fishta (head of the alphabet commission), Ndre Mjeda (linguist) and Parashqevi Qiriazi (teacher and education pioneer).

What does "Dita e Alfabetit" mean for the diaspora? The Day of the Alphabet is a reminder that the Albanian language is the foundation of identity. Precisely in the DACH diaspora, where children grow up bilingual, mother-tongue instruction and the conscious cultivation of the gjuha shqipe is a direct continuation of what began in Manastir in 1908.

Conclusion: letters that hold a nation together

The Congress of Manastir was not a war, not a battle, not a treaty between great powers. It was a meeting of teachers, poets and patriots who argued over letters for eight days – and who in doing so created something that lasts longer than any border: a common Albanian alphabet. Every ë, every ç, every sh that a child in Zurich, Vienna or Cologne writes today is a greeting to those November days of the year 1908. November 22, the Dita e Alfabetit, is therefore far more than a date in the calendar. It is the reminder that the gjuha shqipe is the heart of Albanian identity – and that this identity lives on as long as we speak, write and pass it on. Na jemi një – we are one, connected by the same language.