Category: The History Show

  • The daily life of the Romanian Royal House

    The daily life of the Romanian Royal House

    Kings and queens, princes and princesses have always been in the spotlight. Leaders in general have been in the attention of ordinary people because, according to a social theory, change in society is initiated by the elites. Royals are regarded as privileged people, who have everything they want. Very few people see royals as having a daily life similar to theirs.



    The Romanian Royal House, in its 80 years of existence, had various typologies of rulers. After the communist government forced King Mihai I to abdicate on December 30, 1947 and go into exile, an expert team was given the task to make an inventory of all his belongings. The team was made up of experts, historians, art critics and members of the communist party. Art historian Radu Bogdan, member of the communist party before 1945, was part of that team. Interviewed in 1995 by the Oral History Centre of the Romanian Radio Broadcasting Corporation, Bogdan said that the occasion he had at the time, to enter the royal palace and see everything that had belonged to the Royal Family was in fact a chance to find out how the everyday life of the Romanian crowned heads had been like.



    The first place he entered was the Peles Castle in Sinaia: I found the archive at the Peles Castle, which was very impressive. My main focus in the upcoming months was to see what it was about. I read a lot and I was eager to know everything. It was an extraordinary experience. I spent my high school years in a society that had a cult for King Carol II, nicknamed the voivode of Romanian culture, and my childhood was quite marked by his presence. Having the intimate palace journals in my hands, I had access to history from the inside, a secret history which was extraordinary.



    Unlike what some may imagine, what I found at the Peles Castel was close to the normal cultural standards that any Romanian could have had access to. Radu Bogdan: The library of the Peles Castle was not that impressive. I liked more the library at Bran Castel, which had books with the autograph of Queen Victoria. That was no common thing. There were a few luxury editions. At Peles Castle, there were many books published by the Royal Foundations. The first book out a series of 50, published by the Royal Foundations, went to Carol II and the second one to Prince Mihai I. Some books had the autograph of the author, who was obviously unaware of the fact that no autograph is allowed to be given to a sovereign. The King of England, for instance, does not give autographs and no author is allowed to write anything on a book sent to him.



    Once in the royal palaces, Radu Bogdan stepped into a fabulous world, who was nevertheless dominated by a daily routine. He found a personal notebook of King Carol II in which he wrote daily. He also found documents that helped him understand just how normal the lives of the people who ruled a country were. Unfortunately, the ideological ferocity led to the destruction of valuable objects, as Radu Bogdan noticed: The communists did everything in their power to annihilate the monarchy cult, and showed zero respect for memory and monarchy. For instance, they quickly changed everything in the office of King Carol I, who had so far been kept untouched since the day of his death. They even erased autographs from the books, before sending them to various libraries in Bucharest. Everything contrary to the idea of monarchy was attempted. Interior decorations, objects and furniture related to monarchy were all vandalised.



    Radu Bogdan was particularly impressed with the everyday life of the Romanian royals: What is interesting is that monarchy itself did not keep its documents in order. They were kept in all sort of boxes. I am not sure if documents were also kept in hat boxes, but there were many square boxes and some of them had a locker. Most boxes, however, were unlocked. The only one locked was the box with the diaries of Queen Mary. Petitions from mad people, letters from historian Nicolae Iorga or writer Octavian Goga and letters from diplomats and crowned heads were all kept in the same place.



    Royals have always had a daily life of their own, and that can clearly be seen today. Unfortunately, in the case of Romanian royals, this daily life was made public in the harshest way possible. (EE)

  • Eminescu, the patient

    Eminescu, the patient

    Mihai Eminescu was a poet, prose writer and journalist who, due to the great beauty and originality of his literary work, received the unofficial title of “national poet”. He is Romanias greatest cultural personality and his birthday, January 15, is celebrated as the Romanian Culture Day. Eminescu is considered a genius by most people, but there is also a myth built around him, as historian Lucian Boia wrote in his book about the poet. Unfortunately, there was also Eminescu the patient, not just Eminescu the brilliant poet. In his short life, of only 39 years, the poet struggled with mental illness and was the patient of mental institutions.



    Eminescu lived between 1850 and 1889. He was born in Botoșani, as the seventh of eleven children. He made his literary debut at the age of 16, while in high school. He became a law and philosophy student in Vienna and Berlin but did not finish his studies. Returning to the country in 1874, at the age of 24, he settled in Iași where he worked as a librarian, substitute teacher and journalist for “Timpul”, a conservative newspaper. At the same time, he had a fervent literary activity interrupted, unfortunately, in 1883, at the age of 33, due to the disease. Among his many poems of great impact on Romanian culture, Eminescu wrote between 1873 and 1883 his masterpiece, “The Morning Star”.



    Literary historians have been trying to find the cause of the disease that Eminescu was suffering from and which, in the end, ended his life. Most of them agree that all information indicate a mental illness, but no clear diagnosis could be made at the time. Doctor Octavian Buda, a professor with the “Carol Davila” University of Medicine and Pharmacy and psychiatrist at the “Mina Minovici” Forensic Institute in Bucharest was part of a team of specialists who re-examined the case of patient Eminescu.



    Octavian Buda: “Professor Irinel Popescu and academician Eugen Simion gathered together a number of doctors to discuss the case. This team included neurologists and psychiatrists. I made an introduction to what is called pathography, the idea of ​​health biography and how a certain mental illness may or may not indisputably impact a personalitys biography. Hence the question of whether we can make a connection between work and biography, taking this into account. “



    In the summer of 1883, Eminescu was hospitalized with a diagnosis of “acute maniac episodes.” It was his first hospitalization. He was also treated in the famous mental hospital “Mărcuța”. According to Octavian Buda, the data available at the moment shows that Eminescu had a bipolar disorder: “There is a diagnosis that some made. Dr. Ion Nica wrote a book in the 70s, entitled “Eminescu – the psychosomatic structure”. There is another pathologist, Ovidiu Vuia, who studied this case. Judging by the latest clinical and diagnosis updates, I think Eminescu suffered from bipolar disorder. So, in his case, it was an episode of completely unusual creativity, with elements of agitation, accompanied by depressive episodes. Biographic elements and information that we were able to collect about him, all suggest mental instability. The hospitalizations at the “Mărcuța” mental hospital and then at Dr. Suțus private hospice, “Caritatea”, located on Plantelor Street, where his death also occurred support this theory. “



    Dr. Buda pointed out that there was a mismatch between Eminescus mental illness and the treatment he received, but for which doctors cannot be blamed: “Do these change the extraordinary value of his work? Quite the contrary, I would say. There are people with overwhelming creativity, completely out of the ordinary. It is important that the connection between Eminescu, as a patient, and the doctors who treated him, in this case Suțu and the others, should be seen in the context of what was known and understood at that time in psychiatry. If in terms of diagnosis we can find some equivalents in todays language, the tragedy, in my opinion, is the treatment he received. I think Eminescu was actually treated with mercury, which was thought to be a kind of sedation. It was unknown, at the time, what its long-term effects were. It was not until much later that scientists established that the use of large amounts of mercury is more than toxic and causes neurological damage.”



    Mihai Eminescu is, without a doubt, an outstanding personality of the Romanian culture. Unfortunately, the circumstances of his untimely death are also found in other famous cases. (EE)



  • The history of electricity production in Romania

    The history of electricity production in Romania

    An extremely topical subject today, electricity is indispensable to everyday life. Its production, however, has generated lots of questions and controversy, with alternative technologies being promoted increasingly in recent decades in order to protect the environment. Energy production in Romania also went through all stages of modern technology, from fuel oil and gas plants to coal plants and from hydro- to nuclear power plants.



    In the last 140 years Romania has built technological facilities to meet electricity demands from the economic sector and household consumers. The expansion of the electricity network throughout the countrys territory was a priority of every political regime because this was not something that private entities would be able to achieve. Thermal and hydro-power plants date from the later part of the 19th century. The first electrical power plant was built in Bucharest in 1882 and used to run on gas. Two years later, the first hydro-power plant was built at Peleș, one year after the inauguration of the royal castle, to supply the kings residence with electricity. Since then, the network of thermal and hydro power plants has expanded constantly.



    After 1945 and the installation of the communist regime, plans were set in motion to bring electricity to the whole of Romania. In 1950 began the construction of Europes fourth dam, in Bicaz, in northern Romania, on Bistrița river. After ten years of great efforts, the plant became operational in 1960. At the end of the 1960s, electricity produced by hydro-power plants accounted for just 1% of the entire supply in Romania, but grew to 12% by the mid-1970s as a result of an intense energy policy.



    Maxim Berghianu used to be the president of the State Planning Committee, the institution in charge of planning Romanias economy after the Marxist-Leninist model. He had the rank of minister and took part, in the mid-1960s, in the discussions about the investments that would be made in the construction of hydro-power plants. In 2002, he told Radio Romanias Oral History Centre that hydro-power was considered profitable in the long run:



    “The hydroelectric potential began to be exploited. The initial investment is higher, but the electricity produced is very cheap. It does not require fuel. The costs take a longer time to be covered, but at less expense, for it does not involve much. Concreting, mainly. The only bigger costs are the machines, the turbines, the equipment and the transformers.”



    In parallel, the Romanian state continued to use electricity produced by coal plants. The country had many surface and underground mines and building thermal power plants nearby was only reasonable, says Maxim Berghianu, a former head of the State Planning Committee during communism:



    “There was a lot of discussion about calorific power and the transport of the coal to the power plants. This is why the plants were built near Rovinari, in Oltenia, at Işalniţa, not to have to transport all that coal. There were huge reserves and our plan was to produce enormous quantities, which would cut some of the costs. Excavations would be done on a daily basis, so there was no need to build mines, it was surface mining. The machinery was expensive, but then you didnt have to build the mines.”



    The construction began of the big hydro-power plants known as the Iron Gates, as well as those on Argeș and Olt rivers. The most spectacular were those on the Danube, known as as the Iron Gates 1 and the Iron Gates 2. The first was built by Romania together with Yugoslavia, from 1964 to 1972. It is one of the biggest hydro-technical structures in Europe and the biggest on the Danube. Its construction involved, however, the loss of the old Romanian town of Orșova, which was flooded, as well as the submerging of the Danube island of Ada Kaleh. The Iron Gates 2 was also built together by Romania and Yugoslavia and went into operation in the mid-1980s.



    At the beginning of the 1970s, Romania also began to be interested in the production of nuclear energy, but it wasnt until the early 1980s that the designs were ready for the construction of the atomic power plant in Cernavodă, a Danube town in Dobrodja. The plans provided for the construction of five nuclear reactors with French-Canadian technology.



    Today, the plant in Cernavodă has two nuclear reactors in operation which together supply 20% of Romanias electricity demand. The first reactor was built between 1982 and 1996 and the second between 1983 and 2007. Two other reactors began to be built in 1984 and 1985, but they havent been finished yet. Works on the fifth reactor, whose construction began in 1987, has been suspended for the time being.

  • Titus Gârbea, a witness to Scandinavian history

    Titus Gârbea, a witness to Scandinavian history

    During their lifetime, people may reach some of the most unexpected places and become witnesses to events they never thought they would witness. This is the case of the centenarian general Titus Gârbea, ‘a Romanian in northern Europe who witnessed the history of that region in the first half of the 20th century. Gârbea was born in 1893 and died in 1998, at the age of 105. He fought in World War I and was appointed military attaché in Berlin between 1938 and 1940, and from 1940 to 1943 he was military attaché in Stockholm and Helsinki. He served on the front in World War II, was decorated, and in 1947 he was put on a reserve duty status. From his position as diplomat, he was in contact with several personalities in the history of northern Europe such as King Gustaf V of Sweden and Alexandra Kollontai, the Soviet ambassador to Stockholm.



    The Oral History Center of the Romanian Radio Broadcasting Corporation had the opportunity to talk to Titus Gârbea in 1994, when he was 101 years old. The general recollected the moment when King Carol II appointed him Romania’s representative to Scandinavia: Finland is a small country, with four million inhabitants, but with hardworking and honest people, true to their word. King Carol II called me and said, Could you go to the Nordic countries ?! I was in Berlin on a very difficult mission, and at the same time I had missions in Bern, Switzerland, and the Netherlands. I said, Your Majesty, I can cope with the mission, but travel will be very expensive, because I will often have to travel by plane! And so, I was also appointed military attaché in the Nordic and Baltic countries, that is, about five or six more countries were added. I was always on the road! But I coped with the mission and sent very important information for our country and its future, because the Nazi danger had begun threatening our country too.



    Already familiar with the Nordic spirit, Gârbea travelled between the Swedish and Finnish capitals. But, in the Baltic States, occupied by the Soviets in 1940, he was not received in a way that he had expected: “My job required me to go to both Stockholm and Finland from time to time. The mission was very difficult, because Berlin was in control of the entire Europe. I was assigned to the four Nordic countries: Denmark, Sweden, Finland and Norway. Additionally, I was also dealing with the three Baltic countries where we were seen as a black beast by the communists in those three countries. Our very good Estonian friends warned me: ‘Sir, don’t leave the house at night because the Russians, who are almost everywhere, are capable of doing very wicked things! Well, I survived, nothing happened, but I was the black beast.



    The eve of World War II caught Gârbea right on the demarcation line between the Poles and the Soviets who were ready to occupy Poland. There he became aware of the Soviet antipathy to the Romanians: In 1939, after Hitler’s Germany and Lenin’s Russia, side by side, simply crushed Poland, I was right there on the front. I went to Brest-Litovsk where the Russians were supposed to come. According to them, Brest-Litovsk was to remain in Russian hands, and the rest, in the west, in the hands of Germany. And when I arrived in Brest-Litovsk and got in touch with the Russians who had come there, given that we, as diplomats, had some freedom, one of the Russians, with a typically Russian rude attitude, told me: ‘You are going to have the same fate one day. He literally threatened me, despite my position of military attaché. I did not retort to his rude attitude. And indeed we had the same fate.



    In the same turbulent year 1940, Gârbea was in Sweden when the winter war between Finland and the Soviet Union began. Little Finland showed extraordinary heroism in the face of the Soviet giant that had invaded it. Gârbea wanted to highlight the Finnish courage and the sympathy that the whole world showed to the Finnish people: I was in Stockholm and Finland when this war broke out. From there I was following the Russian operations in Finland, during that very hard winter in 1939-1940, when the natural ally of Finland helped it a lot in the battle. But in the spring, when the thaw began, the huge number of big aircraft overwhelmed the poor Finland with a population of only four million. It was like a mosquito fighting a stallion! Because at that time, I must say, Russia was blamed and ostracized by the whole continent for what it had done, for having attacked poor Finland, with considerable troops, to occupy everything. It was nothing but one of the many horrendous actions taken by Russia, actions also taken against Romania, in 1877 and before.



    The Romanian Titus Gârbea witnessed history far from his country. But it was an equally personal history. (LS)

  • Romania Joins the European Union

    Romania Joins the European Union

    January 1, 2022, is the celebration of 15 years since Romania realized one of its major policy objectives after the pivotal year 1989, and enough time has passed for a historical evaluation. These have been 15 years of significant and steady progress, that have also shown that the European project is feasible. The European adventure of CEE countries started after the year 2001. In the first wave of integration, in 2004, the union was joined by 10 states: Czechia, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Malta, Poland, Slovakia, and Slovenis. In 2007, two more joined, Romania and Bulgaria.




    In any analysis of such a recent past, history is marred by perceptions that are not always objective, especially political ones. Which is why a realistic look at the past 15 years since Romania joined the European bloc is mandatory in order to compare past and present situations, but also to envisage alternative situations, such as the scenario in which Romania did not join. Mihai Sebe, with the European Institute in Bucharest is an expert in European issues, and together we sought to see what the significance of the 15 years of common history between Romania and the EU:


    “Belonging to the EU had and continues to have a positive impact, be it a direct impact, such as European funds financing projects, or by exercising the rights of free circulation, of working and living anywhere in the EU. There are also indirect advantages to the European connection, such as modernizing Romanian society and the economy as a result of being a part of European processes. Also, the benefits of being a member state of the EU are intangible benefits, whether we speak of the country belonging to a space where rule of law and democracy reign, in which fundamental rights and liberties are observed, or we speak of unequaled opportunities for personal and social development in the last century.




    The economy is a concern for every one of us, it has to do with our standard of living. We asked Mihai Sebe what were Romania’s economic gains were across these 15 years of membership:


    “15 years from joining the EU, the main concrete advantage, one of many, was granted by the European funds granted to us. Economic estimates show that the country has taken in over 60 billion Euro in the last 15 years. Romania continues to have a positive balance, in the sense that European funds surpass the funds that Romania contributes to the Union. Also, the GDP almost tripled in the last 15 years. We have also a plan for implementing the funding that come in through the Plan for National Recovery and Resilience, a program to make reforms across society.




    The pandemic that has been haunting the world for the last two years has triggered a European response. This common response is paralleled by each individual state, including Romania, and Mihai Sebe told us about it:


    “There are aspects and advantages that don’t necessarily have to do with economics, but rather with solidarity. The most recent example is the present pandemic, in which Romania was a direct beneficiary of support from the EU, be it privileged access to vaccines, medication, and medical equipment, or the fact that it has been a key state involved in solving the pandemic at the European level. Let us not forget that Romania has sent medical teams to Italy, or that, because of how seriously it tackled the pandemic, it was the first member state to host the strategic medical reserve of the EU.




    “Over the last 15 years, Romania has proven serious and reliable as a member. It managed to contribute directly to the consolidation of the EU as a member state. It was either in direct involvement in climate change issues, digitization, and resilience, or in support towards the EU as a provider of security in the region, and not only. Let us not forget that Romania has managed to pass the test of European maturity, that of holding the rotating presidency of the EU Council between January 1 and June 30, 2019. It was a very important moment at the European level, in the context of the Brexit and European Parliament elections, but also from the point of view of the future of the Union. Let us also not forget that, during the Romanian presidency, a declaration was adopted on May 9, 2019, about the Sibiu spirit, Romania’s involvement in the development of the Union, and the consolidation of European solidarity and values.




    The history of Romania in the EU in the past 15 years is positive, in spite of contrary perceptions. It is a history of voluntary options, open projects, and sticking to commitments.

  • Automobiles in Communist Romania

    Automobiles in Communist Romania

    Automobiles have become so common
    today that it is almost impossible to imagine a world without them. Like any
    other invention in its early days, the automobile was present only in the lives
    of the affluent. However, in time, its rising popularity made it affordable to
    other people and thus it stopped being a symbol of belonging in a certain
    social category. Between 1945 and 1989, the automobile’s evolution in Romania saw
    some stages beginning with the restrictive one, when it was exclusively used by
    the state and the communist leadership, to a period when it was desired by the
    commoners as well. It went through a period of democratization as Serban
    Cornaciu, vice-chair of Retromobil Club Romania said. This period was kicked
    off by a low number of people, the ones who could afford it at that time.




    Serban Cornaciu: We cannot
    speak about this period of democratization, without speaking about car imports
    from the West. Those people were privileged because they had the courage to apply
    for buying such a luxurious product and they had well-paid jobs, being doctors,
    lawyers, artists. Most of them were interested in buying a Fiat 850 or a
    Renault 16 as Romania hadn’t started its car production yet. There were also very
    expensive models like Fiat 1800 and many of the applicants were being visited
    by officers of the former political police, the Securitate, because the state
    had a tight control on people’s incomes at that time and only a few could afford
    a car in the 1960s.




    Romania’s economy just like the others in Central and
    Eastern Europe was slowly recovering after the war and the process was also hindered
    by its being reorganized after the centralized soviet model. Furthermore,
    Romania wasn’t allowed to benefit from the Marshall plan and its economic
    recovery was dragging on. It was only in the late 60s, that two plants were
    built in Pitesti, southern Romania for the production of two models, Renault 8
    and 12, under the name of Dacia 1100 and Dacia 1300. At that time the then
    communist authorities wanted to give an impetus to the car market by producing
    local brands and importing some models from the other communist countries. Here
    is Serban Cornaciu at the microphone again






    Serban
    Cornaciu: At that time, you could
    subscribe to a waitlist for buying a car, apply for a loan and eventually you
    got it. In 1974, three versions of Dacia 1300, not very different from one
    another, became available. The cars used to come in a wide range of vivid
    colours until 1984 when a new model, Dacia 1310, had rolled off the assembly
    line. Cars from the communist bloc were also available on the market but
    imports from the West ceased shortly after the local production had begun. No
    Western brands were imported since 1971-72. One could only apply for a Lada
    1200, a Moskvich or a Trabant, produced in East Germany. Delivery periods for
    Trabant were shorter, though after 1988, applicants could wait even up to three
    years to get one.




    However, the systemic crisis that started to affect
    the communist regime in late 1970s, inevitably affected Romania’s car industry.
    Here is Serban Cornaciu again.




    Șerban
    Cornaciu: The models produced by
    Dacia Pitesti in the 1980s were changed and imports became increasingly
    difficult. Wait lists could no longer be made at the local dealers and people’s
    options started being trimmed in 1982-83. The plant in Pitesti started having
    delivery issues on the domestic market, because exports had become a priority.
    One can wait up to five years for a car and there were no colour options. They started
    using two-three colours back then. One year they were all painted in blue,
    another year green or white and so on. Vivid colours were no longer available.




    Restrictions for the drivers came one after the other
    and in 1978, Romania’s communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu issued orders that
    dignitaries and institutions use only Romanian cars. The crisis deepened in
    mid-1980s, with fuel shortages, driving restrictions at night and on Sundays.
    We’ve asked Serban Cornaciu about the used cars market in communist Romania.

    Serban Cornaciu: Cars were being sold by their owners; there was supply, there was
    demand and a second-hand market flourished back in the 80s. However, prices
    remained high in spite of the driving restrictions imposed by the communist
    authorities. Things went on like this, someone would buy a car but at the first
    snowfall authorities would issue a temporary driving restriction and the new
    owner had nothing to do but wait until the restrictions were lifted. Only
    communist leaders were allowed to travel in cars with yellow plates as well as members
    of the diplomatic corps or foreign residents in Romania whose number plates
    began with 12 B. For instance, famous Romanian director Sergiu Nicolaescu, who
    was shooting a lot of films back in the day, had to use this special type of
    plate in order to avoid being pulled over by the then road police which was known
    in Romania as ‘militia’.




    The real democratization of the automobile in Romania
    came only after 1989 and the change in the political regimes also brought
    changes to the relationship between cars and their owners.




    (bill)

  • Medieval Romanian rulers and their age

    Medieval Romanian rulers and their age


    Stephen
    the Great was the most important ruling prince in the history of Moldavia. Stephen
    the Great ruled Moldavia for 47 years, between the second half of the 15th
    century and the early 16th century, actually between 1457 and 1504. It
    was a most remarkable feat in itself, not only because of its duration, at a
    time when instability was rampant, but also because of the management of power.
    Stephen the Great knew how to play an intelligent game between Hungary and
    Poland, then the regional powers, and the Ottoman Empire, in turn being their
    ally and their opponent.


    The Romanian historians of the Romantic period in the 19th
    century created a heroic image of Stephen the Great, as well as an image of a
    powerful and thriving Moldavia. However, even during such an auspicious reign as
    that of Stephen the Great, the principality of Moldavia still lay at the periphery
    of European civilization. If we look into the external and internal documents
    of that time, we can see Moldavia was a marginal territory, with people living
    on limited means and with a high degree of insecurity. Historian and archeologist
    Adrian Andrei Rusu is the author of the most recent work on Stephen the Great’s
    ruling period. Rusu focuses on the material civilization of Moldavia in the
    second half of the 15th century. The historian is set to bust the exaggerations of
    historians of the Romantic period as well as the archaeological errors. Historian
    Ovidiu Cristea is affiliated to the Nicolae Iorga Institute of History. Dr
    Cristea told us the discrepancy between what the authors of the documents say
    and the historians is caused by the difficulty to tailor the language and the
    content of the past to suit the demands of the present.

    Ovidiu Cristea:


    I am quoting one of
    professor Rusu’s tenets: the medieval reality could not have been covered by
    the dictionaries of the chancellery language. And at this point, a very good
    example was provided by Umberto Eco. Examining Marco Polo’s text,
    Eco used to say Marco Polo mentioned some sort of unicorn because, to the best
    of his knowledge at that time, what he had seen, and which was in fact a
    rhinoceros, could not possibly have been expressed through an appropriate word.
    Using his knowledge of the medieval bestiary, Polo spoke about a unicorn
    instead of of mentioning a rhinoceros. And that can also happen when we run
    into apparently unusual objects, whose usefulness is unbeknownst to us.


    Historian Adrian Rusu said that in his most recent research nhe focused,
    among other things, on as detailed as possible descriptions of daily life, in a
    bid to make the Moldavian world at the time of Stephen the Great accessible to contemporary
    readership. A case in point was the recast of the residence where Stephen the Great
    used to live, which was something that had never been done before.


    Dr Adrian Adrei Rusu:


    I had to go over
    the entire archaeological and architectural information for a second time
    around and prove that in his Suceava castle, Stephen had princely suites. He
    had an assembly hall with a gothic vault, with very beautiful keys and, come to
    think of it, the Moldavian rulers even had a bathroom, a cold-water bathroom
    and a hot-water bathroom. There also was a garden, which was absolutely normal
    for all neighboring princely and royal courts. It was hard to imagine for those ruling princes, especially for
    Stephen the Great, who had a long-lasting and unswerving reign, which was
    strongly built into all sectors of civilization, to be deprived of something which,
    in his time, simply went with the territory.


    As for the dynamism of the economic activity in Moldavia, historian
    Adrian Rusu expressed his skepticism.


    We’re speaking about the great trade route,
    crossing Moldavia from north to south, but shipment was only made of
    pepper and silks, and that could not be a driving force for civilization. Very
    few people got rich doing that kind of trade. Other people got rich, the Saxons
    in Transylvania, Brasov and Bistritsa got rich, in Moldavia they were selling
    nails, hammers, hacksaws, timber, textile, all that the ordinary people of that
    time needed. All those products, in fact, pushed society forward. There also
    was a come-and-go movement of craftsmen, they did not settle in Moldavia.
    They came and worked seasonally, yet they worked constantly because Stephen the
    Great offered them an inflow of construction yards, he guaranteed their payment
    and that is how that string or architectural foundations came into being and
    which also began to perform stylistically.


    Under the circumstances, how was it possible for Stephen the Great’s
    reign to be that long? Here is historian Adrian Rusu once again, attempting an
    explanation.


    Clearly it is all about his personal qualities. The man understood
    his time, and understood his competitors. It was all clear that one year after
    the next during his reign, he was threatened by the rivals who could turn up in
    droves from everywhere. He was capable of knowing his country, his was a
    governance solution he inherited from John Hunyadi. If you want to know your
    country, you need to go places all the time so that people can see you. It wasn’t
    written anywhere, but everyone could tell it was a princely suite coming. There were
    signs of display of the princely authority we were not that much aware of: how exactly
    the ruling prince showed up before his country ? .


    In 2006,
    as part of the Great Romanians contest, Stephen the Great was voted the greatest
    Romanian ever to have existed. Yet about the voivode and his age, we need to
    know all about that using a language
    which remains a language of the past but which always needs to be adapted to
    the present.

    (EN)


  • Stalin and the Hungarian Autonomous Region

    Stalin and the Hungarian Autonomous Region

    On December 1st 1918, at the end of WW1, following the vote in Alba Iulia, Transylvania, a territory in Austro-Hungary, inhabited mostly by Romanians but having a large Hungarian community, became part of the Kingdom of Romania. The war between the Kingdom of Romania and the Hungarian Soviet Republic in 1919 ended in the occupation of Budapest by the Romanian army and consolidated the act of December 1st 1918. The Treaty of Trianon, signed on June 4, 1920, which concluded WW1, was signed by representatives of Hungary on the one hand and the Allied Powers on the other. By the terms of the treaty, Hungary was shorn of at least two-thirds of its former territory – Slovakia, Transylvania, Banat, Maramures and Croatia. In keeping with the commitments taken before the great powers and the minority protection policy promoted by the League of Nations, Romania offered minorities the rights stipulated by international treaties.



    In the interwar period, between 1918 and 1940, the Romanian-German bilateral relations were almost frozen. The revisionist policy conducted by Hungary culminated with Germany and Italy forcing Romania in 1940 to give Hungary North Transylvania, almost half of this province s territory. Circumstantial allies with Germany in WW2, Romania and Hungary were looking towards the future of bilateral ties. On August 23, 1944, Romania broke the alliance with Germany and joined the coalition of the United Nations. The main reason for this move was, according to diplomatic documents, to retrieve North Transylvania. Stefano Bottoni, a professor with the University of Florence, is the author of the book entitled Stalin s Legacy in Romania – The Hungarian Autonomous Region, 1952-1960. He explained that, according to Stalin, neither Hungary nor Romania had to be rewarded because they had both behaved badly. Romania, however, had a big advantage because it changed sides, and this is the merit of the Romanian political and military class, that understood the situation. Stefano Bottoni explains that the same leaders who committed massacres on the East front were now complying with the rigors of their new alliance with the Soviets.



    Romania had at least one major advantage at the Peace Treaty in February 1947: it had stopped fighting against the Soviets and had joined the offensive against the German-Hungarian armies. Freed by the Romanian army on October 25, 1944, North Transylvania had remained under Soviet occupation. The Romanian authorities were allowed to return only after King Mihai I gave in to the Soviet blackmail and commissioned Petru Groza, a friend of Moscow, with forming a new government controlled by the communists. However, the situation was far from clear. The new Romanian diplomacy was lobbying Moscow for their cause, something that the Hungarians were also doing.



    At the end of WW2, the Romanian-Hungarian border of 1920 was re-established. Nevertheless, the fate of North Transylvania had not been decided yet. The USSR had agreed to Romania s arguments but also wanted to please the Hungarian communists. Thus, the Hungarian Autonomous Region was established in central Transylvania, made up of the counties of Covasna, Harghita and Mures. Stefano Bottoni explained Stalins new solution to end the Romanian Hungarian conflict: ”Ever since 1944-1945 Stalin had the strategy of a great power. He knew, for instance, that if Hungary had been forced to accept around 2 million people from the neighbouring countries, it would have exploded from a social, political and economic point of view. This would have had a negative impact on the Hungarian Communist Party and on Matyas Rakosi directly. The Hungarians would have said that he was incompetent, that he was responsible for everything, that he was a Jew and he was unable to do things right. Then, it was important not to reward Romania. Romania had to receive Transylvania in compensation for losing Bessarabia and Bukovina. Romania was given Transylvania, but not entirely. Here is a clue that leads to the Hungarian Autonomous Region: the Hungarians were told they could stay there, but that they had to behave. That meant no more revisionist policy, no more Horthy, no more mediation from Vienna, no more external help. Romanians, on the other hand, were told: we know how you behaved during the two wars and it was not OK. You did nothing to integrate minorities. On the contrary, you treated them like second-hand citizens.”


    The Hungarian Autonomous Region functioned until 1956, when the anti-communist revolution in Hungary made the country lose the support of Moscow. Reformed in 1961, it was dismantled in 1968, when Nicolae Ceausescu implemented an administrative reform.


  • Romanian art in the 1940s and 1950s

    Romanian art in the 1940s and 1950s

    During highly repressive regimes such as fascism and communism, art and artists usually comply with the requests of that particular ideology. Creativity, in totalitarian regimes, is almost annihilated, while art and artists become part of the propaganda. For this reason, being familiar with the type of political regime during which an art work was created, helps the viewer better understand that particular work. Whether we talk about painting, sculpture, theatre, film or an architecture, the political and social circumstances of totalitarianism leave their mark on the mind and work of artists.



    In 1938, Romania started to slip towards totalitarianism. It was the year when King Carol II installed his authoritarian regime, a predecessor of fascism. Political parties and the free press were banned and replaced by a single party and subservient press. Things continued in the same manner from 1940 to 1944, when Romania was headed by Marshall Antonescu. After 1944-1945, at the end of WW2, the communist regime continued to make use of the previous criminal practices.As expected, artists adjusted their works to the rigors of that time. In the years of the fascist regime, the cult of the nation was the ideology that dominated the art world. After 1945, during the communist regime, proletarianism was the ideology that set the trend in art.



    Art critic and historian Radu Bogdan was born in 1920 and died in 2011, at the age of 91. He lived throughout the totalitarian period. He had communist sympathies ever since his youth and worked in the pro-communist press. Bogdan had the reputation of a good professional. In 1995 he was interviewed by Radio Romania s and one of the questions was about the condition of the artist during the communist period. Bogdan gave his own example and that of his colleagues with the Institute of Art History: “If we say that the communist period was the period of a sick regime, are we telling the truth? All sort of sick things were happening. Although we cannot say the institute was made up of incompetent people, it was largely made up of cases. Each of us was a case. None of us, including myself, was a perfectly balanced character.”



    Together with art historian George Oprescu, Bogdan was the one who picked the members of the commission that made the inventory of the royal property after the communists forced King Mihai I to abdicate, on December 30, 1947, and leave Romania: ”My recommendation was Edgar Papu. He was an assistant professor and I was a student, so I knew him from the faculty. I invited him to be part of the commission. Zambaccian, who was a party member, was also in the commission, alongside art trader Levi, who was not a party member and had a Turkish passport. The latter was proposed by Oprescu. There was also Nestor, a former legionnaire, a distinguished archeologist and scientist. Ion Jalea was also included to evaluate sculptures. The wife of Mac Constantinescu was part of the commission s secretariat. There was also historian Emil Condurachi, an expert in medals and antiquities. I was the expert in books and documents.”



    The regime applied the thesis of Marx and Lenin aiming to adjust both artistic taste and public art to the soviet model. In this respect, the Romanian Athenaeum was the first target: ”There had been, at a certain moment, an order from the upper party lines that the fresco of the Athenaeum, painted by Costin Petrescu, should be covered by paintings of revolutionary heroes or accepted rulers such as Alexandru Ioan Cuza. Consequently, Iosif Iser, Camil Ressu and Stefan Constantinescu, seen as the best painters of that time, were commissioned with the new paintings. The project was eventually scrapped, because the paintings were too large. The original fresco was 3 m high, but it had unity. It did not have any particular artistic value, but, as I said, it had unity. This is what the new painting lacked as each of the three artists had its own particular style. Others were purely decorative, had no particular value. This whole project was eventually suspended.”



    It is said that the artist, his work and the viewer always share a special bond. Unfortunately, this one was built on sufferance, a type of sufferance generated by the lack of freedom. Art in totalitarian Romania suffered as much as people did. (EE)

  • Opposing Ceaușescu: Alexandru Bârlădeanu

    Opposing Ceaușescu: Alexandru Bârlădeanu

    During his 25 years in power in Romania, between 1965 and 1989, Nicolae Ceaușescu exercised a brutal, fickle and intolerant management style. In the economic field, his thinking was a disaster, as proven by the living standards of Romanians in the 1980s, in particular. Unfortunately, not many had the courage to stand up to him, and those who did were either removed, or had to step down.

    Born in 1911 in the south of the Republic of Moldova, then a part of Tsarist Russia, Bârlădeanu joined the communist party in 1943. Since 1944 he held senior positions in the party hierarchy. He was one of the aides of Romania’s Stalin, Gheorghiu Dej, he was a cabinet minister and held offices in the legislative assembly. After Dej died in 1965, he became a reformist and got in conflict with the new leader, Nicolae Ceaușescu. In the summer of 1989, he was one of the 6 authors of a letter asking Ceaușescu to initiate reforms. In 1990 he became a member of parliament, until 1992, and he passed away at 86, in 1997.

    In an interview to Radio Romania’s Oral History Centre in 1995, Bârlădeanu reminisced about his divergencies with Ceaușescu, which started as early as the 9th Communist Party Congress in 1965, when Ceaușescu was elected party president. They disagreed with respect to the investments/consumption ratio.

    Alexandru Bârlădeanu: There was this dispute with Ceauşescu concerning the break-down of national revenues for consumption and accumulation. I discussed that in my speech, I said that increasing the investment quota means sacrificing living standards, and that reducing investments means delaying development. I also said, and we disagreed in this respect too, that this ratio depended on a leader’s political art or sense of politics. He insisted that this was a matter of science. It was not a matter of science; it was a matter of politics.

    Over the years, the gap between them grew deeper. Another bone of contention came up in 1966, when abortion was banned in Romania.

    Alexandru Bârlădeanu: Along the way, we had several misunderstandings or opposing views in relation to some concrete issues. One of them was the issue of abortions. Just in the summer when he was elected, he convened a meeting of the Executive Committee while I was on holiday at the seaside. I went from Costinesti to that meeting, and he unexpectedly tabled the issue of abortions. I stood up against it. I said that the problem had not been studied, that we had to analyze it and not make an immediate decision. My stand was also backed by Maurer who said that, indeed, we had to study the matter. But Ceausescu had a nervous outburst. He said, Comrade Bârlădeanu, with this proposal, seeks to support prostitution in Romania.

    Another reason for disagreement was related to the size of the courtyards of the peasant households. Then followed the moment when Bârlădeanu decided to retire invoking an illness.

    Alexandru Bârlădeanu: He wanted to reduce those courtyards to 500 square meters. I do not remember the data, but there were always divergent views that deepened, at least on my part, a feeling of rejection of Ceausescu. Until one point when, in 1968, we argued on an issue and I said I could no longer accept it. By then, I had already attempted to leave a couple of times. As I had had a blood disease in the incipient phase, a professor in Paris, a famous hematologist who examined me, agreed to give me a certificate saying that if I was not released from work, if I continued to do that work, there would be 7 out of 10 possibilities that I could die. And I presented him with that certificate. Said Alexandru Barladeanu.

    Therefore, Bârlădeanu’s self-marginalization occurred in 1968, because that continuous conflict could not bring anything good.

    Alexandru Bârlădeanu: I was leading the Science Council, and, in that position, I also had disagreements with him. At one point, I presented him with a paper on how I saw the reorganization of the Council and the field of science. I waited a few days before he gave me an answer. And I asked him if he had read my material. His response was eloquent: Are you teaching me what science is? That’s what he understood from my material, that I was teaching him what science was, when I had actually proposed several measures! In 1968 I decided to part with the policy he was promoting. It was clear to me that, on the economic line, it would lead to disaster. In fact, I had told others about it as well, I didn’t hide.

    Ceaușescu’s victory against his opponents meant a regime of extreme austerity for Romania. Which ended in 1989, alongside the other regimes in Central and Eastern Europe. (AMP, LS)

  • Archaeology and the Securitate in Communist Romania

    Archaeology and the Securitate in Communist Romania

    Scientific research in a totalitarian regime or a dictatorship is strictly controlled by the state apparatus. Censorship is an essential element in the structure of such a state, and the repressive apparatus is its hard core. The communist state had as its basis ideology. Knowledge of history was essential, and got special attention from the Securitate, the repressive apparatus of Communist Romania, which it controlled ideologically. The process of ideologizing social sciences and the humanities was part of the propaganda. History was no exception, it was subject to ideology like everything else, and part of that was archaeology. Even more than that, the heritage of historical sciences was struck brutally, and in the case of some historians, we can talk about physical brutality. The repressive apparatus jailed historians of the old regime, either for the political positions they held, or for their scientific opinions. Illustrious historians like Gheorghe Brătianu, Constantin C. Giurescu, Petre P. Panaitescu, Silviu Dragomir, and others, were put in prison starting in 1950. Some died there, like Gheorghe Brătianu, others managed to survive until 1964, the year of the general amnesty for political detainees.



    Archaeologist Marian Cosac is a professor with the Valahia University of Targoviste, and editor of a volume of select documents from the archives of the former Securitate, about the manner in which the intelligence service of communist Romania directed archaeological research before 1989. It has to be said that archaeology was another area in which the Securitate stepped in with brutality, setting the topics and imposing conclusions. It was about the ideas and theses that could be ideologically supported, and appointing the panels of archaeologists that could do research on a given site. The formation of the Romanian people and their continuity in Transylvania, Maramures, Banat, and Dobrogea were more than ideas that had to transpire from any and all archaeological digs. It was an obsession, it was the most important conclusion. Hand in hand with continuity was historical truth. The above mentioned provinces were assigned special attention because of the historical differences with Hungary and Bulgaria. It had to be that Romania’s arguments must derive from any research into the territories that united with Romania in 1878 and 1918.



    However, this was not an exclusive practice of the Romanian Securitate. Other repression apparatuses from other communist states had the same kind of intervention for purposes of justification. We asked Marian Cosac how the Securitate assigned archaeologists research tasks and the conclusions they had to reach:


    “The Securitate had a vast, extremely vast, network of informants in all history museums in Romania. This network of informants guaranteed the correct scientific interpretation of archaeological data. The officers of Direction I of the Securitate did not have the ability to understand the language of archaeology. Unfortunately, accusations of non-compliance with historical truth came from colleagues, not Securitate officers. To the extent that the data reached the officers, they intervened by opening a surveillance case. Some archaeologists found themselves in the situation in which, while expressing well supported scientific arguments, they became enemies of the Romanian state, placed in the category of those who warped historical truth.



    The intervention of the Securitate in archaeological research also had personal consequences. There were cases of archaeologists who, to their merit, had the courage to put up opposition to the egregious meddling of the authorities in the meticulous work of archaeologists. Florin Medelet, from the Timis Museum of History had to suffer for his opposition, says Marian Cosac, who found in the archives his surveillance file:



    “Florin Medelet was one of the archaeologists who came to the attention of the Securitate because of an unfortunate find. This find consisted of three Roman bricks found while digging near the foundation of a block of flats. The three Roman bricks were interpreted by a historian specializing in the modern period, Ioan Dimitrie Suciu, as being clear proof of the continuity and presence of the Roman factor in the Banat area. He identified the presence of a Roman castrum in the founding area of the city of Timisoara, with the three bricks presented as incontestable proof. As an archaeologist, Medelet rejected this hypothesis. This rejection resulted in a surveillance case being opened, and this had dire consequences on his scientific, and even personal, evolution. He was dismissed from his managerial position, he got demoted to the lowest rank, that of museographer. He was banned from publishing studies in archaeology, he was put under surveillance, and was prevented from applying for a PhD. The direct effects on Florin Medelet were catastrophic. Medelet is an undisputed personality in archaeological research in the Banat area, he shaped an entire school of archaeology.



    Between 1945 and 1989, archaeology was a science heavily influenced by ideology. Neutral research had a lot to suffer, and many honest scientific conclusions gathered dust on a shelf, forgotten.

  • Physician Constantin I. Parhon

    Physician Constantin I. Parhon

    Constantin Ion Parhon was a name often uttered in the 20th century in relation to medicine, but he was nowhere near as important professionally as you may believe. That is because Parhon was a marking personality of the regime that the USSR installed in Romania after 1945. His professional activity was inversely proportional with his political activity, which was what in fact brought him celebrity. He was part of the group that chose to side with the communist regime and take full advantage of that privileged position.




    Constantin Ion Parhon was born on October 15, 1874, in Campulung Muscel, a town about 170 km northwest of the capital Bucharest. He studied medicine at Bucharest University, and in 1900 he got his degree as a medical doctor. He worked as a physician in hospitals in Bucharest and in other places in the country, and attended a specialty course in Munich, Germany, in 1906. Parhon specialized in affections of the nervous system, and became a professor at the medical school in Iasi, where he taught neurology and psychiatry. In parallel, he started teaching endocrinology at the medical school in Bucharest. In 1928, he was elected as a member by correspondence of the Romanian Academy, becoming a full member in 1939. Parhon became a part of the eugenics movement in Romania between the wars, and at some point he actually started supporting the idea of experimenting on mental patients.




    The communist regime imposed by the Soviets on March 6, 1945, completely transformed Romania in less than three years. Trampling on all human rights and freedoms by legislation, the Communist Party delivered the coup de grace to Romanian democracy on December 30, 1947. On that day, King Michael I was forced to abdicate, and the communists dominated Parliament, who had blatantly falsified the elections in November 1946, and proclaimed a republic. The New Year speech in 1948 was read on the radio by Parhon himself, who was elected head of the Romanian People’s Republic Presidential Forum, which had replaced the constitutional monarchy.


    “The Romanian people have now gained their freedom to choose the form of state most suited to its natural aspirations, a people’s republic. The democratic regime, instated after liberation from Hitler’s invaders and their lackeys, through the work, skill, and drive of the best sons of the people, is now strengthened even more. No hurdle stands now in the way of the full development of our popular democracy, to provide to all who work with their arms or their minds, in towns and villages, the material and cultural well-being , guaranteeing our country’s sovereignty and independence.




    You may ask yourselves how Parhon had reached the highest positions in such a regime. The explanation may be found in his prior political activity. Before WWI he had been a socialist, influenced by the ideas of Karl Marx, and had founded a small party, the Working Party, which would go on to merge with the Peasant Party in 1919, right after the war. However, after two years, in 1921, he had radicalized, and become a supporter of the Communist Party of Romania, a section of the Komintern.




    Romania’s switching sides to join the anti-Fascist coalition on August 23, 1944, was a major turn for Parhon. He became the president of the Romanian Association for Ties with the Soviet Union, and president of the ruling council of the People’s Republic of Romania, alongside writer Mihail Sadoveanu and three other communist activists. Up until 1952, he formally held the position of head of state. From 1946 to 1961 he was continuously a deputy in the Assembly of Deputies, and then in the Grand National Assembly, the communist parliament. In ideological recognition on the part of Socialist countries, he as made a member of the academies of science of the USSR, Bulgaria, Hungary, and the DRG. He also held other administrative positions, such as director of the Institute of Endocrinology and the Geriatric Institute. He was decorated with the highest honor of the communist state, Hero of Socialist Work, and the University of Bucharest was at some point named after him.




    Parhon died on August 9, 1969, at 94 years of age, and was buried in the communist pantheon in Carol Park. Stefan Barlea, an organizational work activist with the Communist Party, spoke in 2002 for Radio Romania’s Center for Oral History. He said that his demise threw a wrench into the works of the 10th Congress of the Romanian Communist Party, which was taking place around that time:


    “The issue was raised, where would we bury him. And at some point, Ceausescu said: ‘What shall we do, he was head of state?’ And we made the decision to take him to the Pantheon. Gheorghiu-Dej had already been buried there. And Ceausescu said that there has to be a special arrangement. But Maurer, the prime minister, told us to bury him such that he himself could have a place there set aside. And Ceausescu patted him on the shoulder and said: ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’




    After 1989, his remains were unearthed and relocated, and the entire complex was put under conservation.

  • The Jewish minority in Greater Romania

    The Jewish minority in Greater Romania

    The presence of Jewish communities in the Romanian space has been known ever since the Middle Ages, when they could be found both inside and outside the arch of the Carpathian Mountains, both in rural and urban areas. Before the terrible tragedy of the Holocaust, the Jewish communities in Romania gave the world scientists, doctors, lawyers, engineers, entrepreneurs, people of culture. After the end of WWII, and the birth of the State of Israel, to which Romanian Jews contributed significantly the number of such communities in Romania dropped dramatically. The 1989 census showed that there were only several thousands left in Romania.

    In Greater Romania, according to the 1930 census, the Jewish population numbered 756,930 individuals. The largest and strongest communities were in northern Romania, in Transylvania, Maramures, Bucovina and Bessarabia. After 1918, the Romanian state had committed to observing all the minority rights and so the entire legislation was drawn up or amended to that end. Just like the other minorities, Jews in Romania benefited from economic and religious freedom, freedom of expression, of the press in their own language, of Romanian citizenship and the right to vote. Before the start of the anti-Semitic persecutions in 1938, the Jews in Romania were integrated just like any other ethnic Romanian, as shown by interviews made in 1990 and 2000 by the Oral History Centre of the Romanian Radio Broadcasting Corporation.

    Nicolae Catone from the village of Salva, Nasaud County, in northern Romania, was a railway worker between the wars. He was a member of the National Peasant’s Party and in 2000 he was recalling the Jews living in his village:

    There were Jews, I remember that the richest of them was one by the name of Aaron. He had a gasoline shop, and a cereal shop. On Easter day his gasoline shop burned down. There were many Jews in the village and we got along well. We had two milk cows and I remember a Jewish woman from across the river, with four kids, who would come and get milk for them. She would milk and wash the cows herself. We had no problems with the Jews.

    Adela Feiden was from Vatra Dornei and in 1998 she spoke about the celebrations she would attend as a child in the town where there were 3 synagogues:

    We would take part in all celebrations. The temple was open, nobody forbade us to keep our faith. We had the Yiddish theatre at the Culture House, at the Casino. For Hanukah we had the chief Rabi coming. Many other would come to the synagogue and we would always go there for Passover.

    Ludovic Kahan was from Baia Mare, the son of a cattle merchant. He worked as a clerk with the Phoenix metallurgical works.

    In 1885 the synagogue was opened, and it is still there today. The community was always orthodox and Hasidism in Satu Mare had a strong influence. The Zionist movement was also strong. As regards the town population in 1890, according to statistics, the town had 9868 inhabitants, of whom 702 Jews. In 1910, out of 12,877 inhabitants, 1402 were Jews, and then the number increased to 3623, out of a population of 21,404 in 1941. So, the percentage was pretty high, going up from 7 to 16%.

    Rabi Ernest Neumann of Timisoara recalled in 2002 how, before the Holocaust, Romanians and Jews had no issues.

    Citizens from this part of Transylvania, which used to be ruled by Austria-Hungary, were more tolerant, more understanding towards the Jews, and they really leaved in peace. I grew up in a community of peasants and nobody would care whether people were Romanian, Jew or Hungarian. There were no barriers of nationality, religion or race separating people, barriers which are artificial anyway.

    All testimonies from before 1938-1940, before the Holocaust, speak of a normal life for the Jewish communities in the Romanian space. After that, however, history would change dramatically. (MI)

  • The People’s Courts

    The People’s Courts


    In Romania, the
    people’s courts
    were first established in 1945 under Law
    no. 312 and their
    aim was to indict and punish
    those responsible for the disastrous state of the country and war
    crimes. Indeed, they carried out acts of justice in that many war
    criminals were put on trial and convicted.


    Two
    such courts existed in Romania:
    one in the capital Bucharest and another in Cluj, for the crimes
    committed by Horthy’s regime in Northern Transylvania. Some 2,700
    people accused of war crimes were investigated, of whom 668 received
    various convictions. The People’s Court in Bucharest sentenced 187
    people, while that in Cluj convicted 481. The most famous case tried
    by the Bucharest People’s Court was that of Ion Antonescu, who led
    the Romanian state between 1940 and 1944, alongside Mihai Antonescu,
    Piky Vasiliu and Gheorghe Alexianu, all of whom were sentenced to
    death on 17th
    May 1946 and executed. 19 other defendants were convicted to
    death in absentia, while the death sentences of three others were
    commuted to life
    sentence. The Antonescu regime was responsible for the deportation
    and death of around 280,000 Jews and 25,000 Roma in the camps of
    Transnistria. The People’s Court in Cluj issued 100 death
    sentences, 163 life sentences and other long prison sentences. Those
    who made it until 1964 would benefit from a pardon issued by the
    authorities of the day.


    The
    practice of people’s courts also served an ideological purpose. The
    communist regime had pledged to carry out acts of justice and was
    using the circumstances of the war to also punish its adversaries.
    Traditional acts of justice began to be
    corrupted by forms of Soviet justice. This is referenced in 1999 by
    the priest Constantin Hodoroagă in his account for Radio Romania’s
    Oral History Centre of his support for anticommunist fighters in the
    Argeș area. Hodoroagă observed that communist party groups used
    forms of class justice to fight against the old order:


    The
    communists began to organise themselves in Topolog Valley and fight
    against ordinary people and land owners. I remember a lawyer called
    Petrescu who would travel from village to village and hold
    some sort of people’s court. He summoned the people in Şuici,
    where there used to be lots of land owners, and the likes of colonel
    Canarie and the well-known Minculescu family, including professor
    Minculescu, and put them all on trial in a kind of people’s court.


    In
    the artistic world, the people’s court was also a way of dealing
    with personal grievances against adversaries in the early days of the
    Soviet occupation. The writer Pan Vizirescu recounted in 1997 how the
    artistic world itself had changed and how he himself narrowly escaped
    a sham trial in front of a people’s court:


    I
    could see what was going on. Victor Eftimiu had taken over the
    leadership of the Romanian Writers’ Union. He told everyone how he
    had sat down to dinner with Soviet officers and how they were so
    charming and had talked for a long time and everyone had been very
    friendly. And then he asked writers, myself included, to write an
    article explaining our stance during the war and hand it over in
    person. I realised it was a trap and I didn’t go. But everyone else
    who went found themselves in a people’s court.


    The
    people’s courts in Romania tried deeds incompatible with the idea
    of human dignity. The mass murders committed during WWII against the
    civilian population and ethnic groups meant these courts were
    invested with full powers to pass judgement on those who committed
    genocide.

  • The print media in Romania after WWII

    The print media in Romania after WWII

    The printed media in the 20th century has
    gone through a number of phases of development, from being independent to
    censored or fully banned. The most serious cases infringing on freedom of the
    media but also human rights, occurred over 1945-1989, during the communist
    regime. After 1945, after having enjoyed the fresh air of freedom for a few
    years after the censorship introduced by the fascist regime, the new communist
    authorities reintroduced censorship with much harsher provisions. During this
    time as well, however, there were those journalists that tried to do their job
    as best as they could, based on the principles underlying media institutions.


    Dorel Dorian worked as a journalist at the end of
    WWII, and wrote for nearly all types of newspapers and magazines. In 1997, he
    told the Center for Oral History about the importance of newspapers in his
    parents’ house.


    I was fascinated by the press long before I got to
    learn this trade. Newspapers were sacred to my family and I. I had no idea how
    they were written. My father had told me I shouldn’t believe what the
    newspapers wrote, because, even though you learn to read between the lines, and
    despite journalists’ best intentions, truth will out. It was a calling, the
    written word was holy to me, I was confident I needed to look the word that
    told the truth. I was young, It was a time of great spiritual upheaval,
    although I made some mistakes, as I later discovered. It was an investment, a sacred
    investment in some ideals that I deemed to be the ultimate purpose: social
    justice, freedom and moral fiber, an acknowledgement of individual value. I
    believed in all these things, I do even today, although for a long time the
    path I chose turned out not the best right for me.


    Young Dorian started writing at the age of 16, in
    1945. Yet he soon noticed he was faced with choosing between his passion and
    daily reality.


    In the summer of ’48, a whole string of events made
    he decided to study engineering. I doubted I could make a living out of
    writing, and I had a family to take care of. I was also good at math, at
    abstract things. So I enrolled at the Polytechnic Institute, the Energy
    Faculty, and I graduated in ’53. I continued writing for the press all this
    time. During the ’53 Festival in Bucharest, I was one of the most sought-after
    journalists – I wrote stories, notes and reports. Right after graduation I
    moved to Jiu Valley and was appointed head of the technical and electric
    department at one of Romania’s first thermal power plants.


    After the invasion of Hungary in 1956, Dorian noticed
    a change in the media: from the revolutionary momentum after the war, the media
    started to lose its voice, the Student
    Life magazine being just an example.


    I saw the media had started to turn dull. Many
    articles were written as if commissioned, there was direct and obvious
    political involvement. And we understood they were trying something else after
    ’56, because students started to react. I must admit this was short-lived.
    After the second issue came out, there was a huge public scandal revolving the Student Life magazine. It was a serious
    issue that was discussed in the Central Committee by Ceaușescu himself, in a meeting also attended by Leonte Răutu and Petre Gheorghe. We
    were all called to say what we were after, what our life
    plans were, how we ended up doing what we were doing, and if we considered
    ourselves part of an Enlightened Movement.


    Dorian therefore chose to switch to technical
    journalism.


    Ion Iliescu, who was now the secretary of the party’s
    Central Committee, asked me what the authorities could do to appeal to the
    young generations again, over which the regime was starting to lose its
    influence. I told him very honestly that I was thinking about a magazine for
    construction amateurs, something to give them a hobby. So this is how the Tehnium magazine came into being. After
    three years of working for Science and
    Technology and Tehnium, the magazines
    were doing really well. The chairman of the Academy, Drăgănescu, asked me to
    switch to a scientific magazine with a wider reach and a more professional
    approach. At the time he was running the Free
    Romania newspaper, which also had a magazine issue. I said yes. I also
    contributed to other publications, such as the Woman magazine. I was called Dorina Petcu at the time, and would
    take care of the fan mail. Our readers wanted to meet Dorina Petcu, but this
    meeting was out of the question.


    In 1989, the Romanian media underwent a new phase with
    the changing times. It was a landmark that diversified the media landscape.
    (VP)