Itt-Ott, 1994 (27. évfolyam, 1. (123.) szám)
1994 / 1. (123.) szám
tive, resulting in the fascination with the Iron Guard and Antonescu’s dictatorial regime. It is quite well known that periods of economic and social hardships are likely to be fertile grounds for using nationalism as a means of diverting attention from the sources of hardship. A great many opportunists and figures discredited during the communist regime jumped to the occasion — see the exploits of C.V. Tudor, A. Paunescu, Eugen Barbu, Gh. Funar, Radu Ceontea, etc. Nationalism is also the refuge of the former Securiate, as they make the transition — quite successfully — from oppressors to guardians and defenders of the country, of the people, and the national interest. However, what is disconcerting is the readiness with which a large segment of the population embraces this kind of nationalistic stance. The rank and file of “Vaträ Romanesca” and the followers of “Romania Mare” do not have a stake in defining themselves in ultra-nationalistic terms. Similarly, the members of Marian Munteanu’s “Mi§carea pentru Romania” are not mere turncoats. The terms in which all the above organizations/parties define Romanian ethnicity make use of the recycling process, thus presenting their followers with a rescued identity, i.e., restored from, and cleaned of, the distortions and devastations of communism. Religion and religious concepts, liberal references to a mythical Romanian history abundant in proofs of greatness, bravery, and dignity, as well as stubborn bad luck, form the background for the aspiration towards a rescued and restored national identity. The frequent use of terms from the semantic area of renaissance — revival, resurrection, rebirth, refound, unearthed, etc., further contributes to stimulating the enthusiasm of the followers and the curiosity of potential proselytes. Furthermore, one should not underestimate the psychological comfort and moral righteousness achieved by focusing on the centuries of persecutions Romanians were subjected to by a long range of enemies, such as the Turks, the Hungarians, and the Russians as direct oppressors, the Jews as sleek blood-suckers, and the Western Powers as utterly insensitive political brokers. There is even an ongoing effort to prove that the worst offenders were not Romanians — Ceaufescu himself was described as a cross between a Tartar and a Gypsy, and most of the communists were, of course, Jews and Hungarians. We could define these nationalistic movements as a kind of revitalization process insofar as they aim at formulating a cultural code based on literally revitalized values. It is a code that stands against communism, but unfortunately stands against democratization and openness as well. In Romania nowadays one can detect the conflict between these two attempts of redefining national identity — the nationalistic one, and, for lack of a better term, the pan-European one, trying to transcend nationalism. The Timisoara Proclamation, issued by the Timisoara Society on March 11, 1990, was probably the last attempt of the Timisoara movement to communicate the code formulated during the December 15-22 revolt. The reception it had in the country proved its inadequacy to the current state of mind of the general public. The broad democratic values and the insistence on pluralism, advocated in the Proclamation as the way to societal and cultural transformation — indeed, as landmarks for an actual revolution — did not fare well in the country and appeared to be irrelevant, if not outright hostile, to the majority of Romania’s population, more inclined to redefine themselves in pan-nationalistic terms. It seems now that we have completed a most unfortunate circular trajectory: the revitalization movement in Timisoara failed to encompass the whole nation; moreover, the events of December 15-22, 1989 are submitted to periodic queries and reinterpretations, to justify the legitimacy of the ruling elite on the one hand, and to accomodate the nationalist ideology and agenda on the other. Insistent rumors of conspiracy and shadowy plots constantly tainted the very meaning of those events; subsequent accusations of Timisoara’s population in general — and of the vocal Timisoara Society in particular — of being venal sellouts further prevented the revitalization movement from expanding into an effective movement. This brings us back to Ceausescu’s assertions, made on national TV on the evening of December 20, 1990: whatever happened in Timisoara, he maintained, was a plot concocted by a plurality of foreign factors, all aiming at destroying his Romania. The competition is not only between pan-European and pan-national definitions of identity, but also between various distinct nationalities: with 13 registered minority groups, Romania is a multinational state. All these minority groups had experienced revitalization moments of their own, once the common enemy — the communist re-ITT-OTT 27. évf. (1994), 1. (123.) szám 45
