1989 witnessed revolutions all over Eastern Europe, toppling the Soviet Union. While the majority were peaceful, Romania stands out as the most violent of them all.
The Romanian revolution essentially began in mid-December 1989 in the western Romanian city of Timisoara, when ethnic Hungarian priest, Laszlo Tokes, was threatened with deportation for his outspoken criticism of Nicolae Ceausescu’s treatment of the large Hungarian minority.
Police and security forces were brought in to quell the uprising, but in the following nights more and more people joined the demonstrations. As the crowds gained in number, more force was used against them which did result in a number of fatalities.
Ceausescu was visiting Iran when the protests began, when he learned of them, he cut short his trip and returned to Romania declaring a state of emergency in Timisoara. By now, protests had to spread to nearby areas in the region.
Ceausescu's Authority is Challenged by Protesters in Bucharest
On December 21st Ceausescu gave a speech to a large crowd gathered in Bucharest’s main square, it was televised to help calm the atmosphere of unrest. Much to Ceausescu’s surprise sections of the crowd began booing and chanting and he was effectively drowned out by the noise. The security forces stepped in to control the dissidents and yet more violence erupted and a number of demonstrators were killed.
Romanians were not put off by this and the next day, more and more people descended on the square, the army and the Securitate (Romania’s secret police force) were ordered to shoot at the protesters, not all were willing to do so. Rumours spread amongst the crowd that the army was refusing to obey orders, therefore were on the people’s side, this galvanised the protesters.
Protesters Storm the Communist Party Buildings
Due to the mass dissent Ceausescu and his wife Elena attempted to flee Bucharest. Protesters began to storm government buildings located in the square, notably the Communist Party headquarters. Chaos and confusion reigned as the country was effectively leaderless.
Ceausescu and his Wife are Captured and ExecutedOn Christmas Day, just a few days after they had fled, Ceausescu and his wife were captured by paramilitary forces and put on trial in a secret military court. Both were handed the death sentence which was to be carried out immediately by firing squad. Images of the dead leader and his wife were broadcast on televisions throughout Romania, the demonstrations dissipated as people learned Ceausescu’s reign was definitively over.
Ion Iliescu Emerges as the New Leader
In the midst of all the uncertainty, Ion Iliescu, a former high-ranking member of the Communist party, now leader of the National Salvation Front (NSF) announced they would form an interim government, the first move was to abolish the one-party system. Iliescu then served three terms as President of Romania.
Theories Behind the Causes of the Romanian Revolution
Twenty years on controversy remains about the nature of the Romanian revolution. Although the initial demonstrations in support of Laszlo Tokes were genuine, there is debate over whether the dissidents in the crowd in Bucharest were there because of Ion Iliescu, working with senior army officials to stage a coup d’état.
On the other hand, it is said that conditions for a popular uprising in Romania were perfect. There had been a long period of economic decline, along with food and fuel rationing and severe shortages, in stark contrast with the luxurious lifestyle led by the Ceausescu’s. Equally important is that in 1989, the countries surrounding Romania toppled their own Communist rulers by popular uprisings thus bringing an end to the Soviet domination of Eastern Europe.
Whatever the reasons for the revolution, it will always remain notorious for being the most violent and bloodiest seen in recent European history.
Sources
Davies, Peter Siani. The Romanian Revolution of December 1989. New York: Cornell University Press, 2005.
The copyright of the article The Romanian Revolution of 1989 in E European History is owned by Fiona Allison. Permission to republish The Romanian Revolution of 1989 in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
12 FLASHBACKS TO A (PRE)-REVOLUTIONARY TEEN AGE (1/6)
By
Sergiu Ranta, 36 years, Bucharest
Scene 1: Sometimes in ’87. My
older brother Radu (17 years old) is getting passionate for English
language (after playing a role in an Oscar Wilde play at the high-school’s
theatre club), and signs up with the American Cultural Institute of
Bucharest, to be able to borrow books and records in English. Not more than
a month later, two presentable gentlemen come to the high-school, politely
get him out of the classroom and – in the teachers’ room- tell him that he
must stop, otherwise he may got excluded from school and our parents may
have problems at work. In the evening, he tells everything home and the
decision is taken. He stops frequenting the Institute.
Scene 2:
August ’88, on a Saturday morning. All our family is out for a 10 days
holiday on the Black Sea seaside. There’s two days after arrival and my
father receives a phone call: my grand-father, up in Turda (near Cluj,
north-west Transylvania), is dead after a sudden heart attack. We drop the
holiday and head for Turda (around 800 kilometres), my father driving our
Dacia. He’s puzzled by the sad news. We don’t make it by midnight and on
that Sunday we are forbidden to drive on the roads, as our plate number
ends with an even digit and that Sunday was reserved to odd digit-ending
plate numbers. At about 1 AM, a policeman pops up out of the dark and stops
the car. We are all tired and depressed. My father is exposed to license
suspension on the top of a large fine. He explains the situation at low
voice, his face like stone. There is complete silence, and then the
policeman gives his condolences and tells us to go on.
Aug 10, 2009 12:18 PM
Guest :
12 FLASHBACKS TO A (PRE)-REVOLUTIONARY TEEN-AGE
by Sergiu Ranta,
36 years, Bucharest
(2/6)
Scene 3: July ’89. Radu and
I go hiking in the Piatra Craiului (King’s Stone) Mountains, under the lead
of Mr. N., senior electronics engineer in his early forties, who back in
Bucharest gives use private lessons in Mathematics and Physics. We need
these lessons, as many others, because entry exams to the Polytechnic
Institute are extremely tough and the competition is fierce (up to 8
candidates for 1 place). We are not necessarily Technical Sciences freaks,
but to access Economics, Law or Human Sciences you must learn by heart tons
of Ceausescu speeches or Party documents. It’s a superb summer day and we
get off any marked path. The hike becomes more and more difficult, turning
into thrilling adventure. We haven’t seen any people for hours now, but we
trust Mr. N completely. Finally, we reach the destination: very high up, in
a pretty inaccessible place hidden by woods, there is a small cabana, clean
and tidy, with everything in it for you to prepare dinner and rest for the
night. No one’s around. On a shelf, we find a hard cover registry
containing short written notes left by visitors. They are in Romanian, but
also in Magyar or German. It’s incredible – Ceausescu is openly cursed at
least once on every single page and some people even sign their names. The
language is sometimes bad, but it gives a feeling of utter freedom. We get
out the cabana to admire the wild landscape. Very down below and very far
away, it seems like there may be some human settlement. But we feel like
we’re on a different planet.
Scene 4: October ’89. In the GDR,
Erich Honecker has left power. In Romania, nobody doubts that, at the
forthcoming congress of the Communist Party, Ceausescu is going to be
re-elected party’s general secretary for another four years. Friday, end of
classes. With a thick black pencil, I write on my white desk a funny rhyme
that was making me laugh: “Ceausescu fii boier / Fa si tu ca
Honecker“(“Ceausescu, be a gentleman/do it like Honecker”). On the way
home, I tell some classmates about it. One of them gets very worried, tells
me that I was stupid and advises me to go back and clean-up everything. I’m
surprised, I’m not taking it seriously but over the evening I grow worried
too. The next day (Saturday morning) I go back to school, tell the security
guard that I forgot an important notebook in the classroom, and I erase
everything. It feels weird.
Aug 10, 2009 12:20 PM
Guest :
12 FLASHBACKS TO A (PRE)-REVOLUTIONARY TEEN-AGE by Sergiu Ranta, 36 years,
Bucharest (3/6)
Scene 5: Late October ’89. It’s the eve of the
14th congress of the Communist Party. A new Romanian movie is about to be
out in the cinemas that Friday, and we are keen to go see it (except
North-Korean films which are just too stupid, we are trying not to miss any
new movie, irrespective of what they are about). This new one is supposed
to be about the selfish small lives of some stupid “bourgeois” of the
inter-wars period. The announced title of the new movie: “Noiembrie,
ultimul bal” (“November, the last ballroom dance”). But by Friday, they
take it off the programme.
Scene 6: 22nd of December ‘89, around
noon, just after the incredible burst of the poet Mircea Dinescu on the
national television (“Brothers, we won!”). I’m with my brother, wandering
around the neighbourhood: an elderly woman was hugging a middle-aged
military officer, his military jacket unbuttoned. The man was crying and
laughing in the same time, like a fool. The woman was crying too. I’m
turning 17 today.
Aug 10, 2009 12:22 PM
Guest :
12 FLASHBACKS TO A (PRE)REVOLUTIONARY TEEN AGE
by Sergiu Ranta,
36 years, Bucharest
4/6
Scene 7: 23rd of December
‘89, early in the morning. Sleepless and dizzy, I open the windows of our
apartment’s living room, 2nd floor in a communist style block of flats. A
small group of people is gathered in front of the building, all pairs of
eyes directed to me. Then I realise why. The glass of one window was
broken, a round hole in the middle. Then I find the bullet – it’s big,
lying intact down on the floor, only its tip slightly scratched. The rumour
down is that some communist activist living nearby went mad, got up on the
roof the building opposite ours’ with a rifle on hand and executed a random
shooting spree before killing himself. I take the bullet and put it in a
box.
Scene 8: 24th of December ‘89, before noon. I’m out with
my father, to buy a Christmas tree. He’s carrying it, happy to get it but
starting to get worried of the whereabouts of my brother. The air is full
of distanced sounds of gun and rifle shootings, but otherwise so fresh and
pure. The noise is coming from everywhere. There are other people in the
street, but no one looks scared. I’m cheerful, and have no doubt that my
brother is fine.
Aug 10, 2009 12:23 PM
Guest :
12 FLASHBACKS TO A (PRE)REVOLUTIONARY TEEN AGE
by Sergiu Ranta,
36 years, Bucharest
5/6
Scene 9: 25th of December
‘89. Ceausescu is dead, but the shootings intensify instead of stopping.
It’s the army of orphanage boys that he put together to defend him when the
worst was going to come. They are fanatic, desperate and have nothing to
lose. And then, there are those trained-to-kill Arab troops from those
Middle East countries which Ceausescu was frequenting so often. At least,
this is what we are told on the national television. The administrator of
our block of flats (a retired army colonel in his late sixties) decides
that men and boys in the block should form teams of two and guard
building’s entrance around the clock, two hours each. I team-up with my
father. “Guards” are given one iron bar each, to smash the terrorists in
case they want to get in. No incidents.
Scene 10: 26th of
December ‘89. News about killings and terrorist acts around the country
continue to pour in, with country’s new leaders blaming it all on
Ceausescu’s fanatic secret troops. In a moment of despair, I take a pencil
and write “Caine!” (“You, dog!”), in small letters, on one of kitchen’s
walls. Two or three years later, the note on the wall is still intact and,
from time to time, I look at it and I kind of wonder how I could be so
stupid.
Aug 10, 2009 12:26 PM
Guest :
12 FLASHBACKS TO A (PRE)-REVOLUTIONARY TEEN AGE
by Sergiu Ranta,
36 years, Bucharest
6/6
Scene 11: 27th of December,
around noon. My brother called home in the early morning and let my mother
know he was leaving the campus (which he “defended” for more than 3 days),
heading for home on foot (45 minutes walking distance). Four hours later
he was still not there. There are shootings everywhere in the background.
My mother is in distress, my father is tense, I don’t know what to think.
He gets home at about 3 pm, calm and unaware of any reason why anyone would
be stressed out. He explains that on his way back he dropped by some
friend’s place to drink a hot tea and discuss the last news and rumours. He
forgot to call.
Scene 12: 29th of December, early afternoon. I’m
downtown with my two best classmates (Palatului Square, now renamed
Revolutiei Square). After all these days of unusually mild weather, the
winter is here. It’s snowy, windy and slippery. In the middle of the
square, a Dacia “Papuc” (wagon) is advancing quite fast, with a man
throwing copies of the new “Libertatea” ("The Freedom") daily
newspaper from the back of the car. The three of us start running after
like hell, desperate to get a copy. We get it, then I slip and hit the icy
ground, but it doesn’t hurt. Somebody’s laughing. I’m happy, I’m laughing
too.
Jul 24, 2009
