ransylvanian eview Vol. XXVII T R No. 4 /Revue de Transylvanie Winter 2018

Contents/Sommaire Chairman: • Paradigms Academician Ioan-Aurel Pop The Impact of the Great War on Demographic Events in 3 Center for Daniela Mârza Transylvanian Studies The Union of with in 1918 16 Constantin Ungureanu From the National Assembly in to the Great National Assembly in : Church and Nationality 31 Ioan Bolovan Sorina Paula Bolovan • Profile L’héritage de Maiorescu 45 Marta Petreu Octavian C. Tãslãuanu (1876–1942) 58 George-Bogdan Tofan Adrian Niþã • Transsilvanica Early Banknotes of the Habsburg Empire and Their Circulation in Transylvania Until the Establishment of the Austro-Hungarian Dualism 74 Sorina Botiº Changes in the Leadership of the Petru Maior Student Center of Cluj (Spring 1923) 87 Maria Ghitta Under the Sign of Malnutrition: Economic and Propaganda Policies in Romania at the End of the 1980s. Case Study: 100 Gabriel Moisa Corina Moisa On the cover: • Tangencies Postcard (1914), Die Banater Berg- und Hüttenwerke und Domänen Iuliu Moisil collection, file 114, Bistriþa-Nãsãud County Division in der offiziellen Photographie der StEG (1858-1873) 112 of the National Archives of Romania Cristian Oliviu Gaidoº • Literature Transylvanian Review continues the Utopia and Uchronia: tradition of Revue de Transylvanie, From Thomas More to H. G. Wells 126 founded by Silviu Dragomir, which was published in Cluj and then in Lucian-Vasile Szabo between 1934 and 1944. Plus moderne que les modernistes 137 Transylvanian Review is published Marius Nenciulescu quarterly by the Center for Transylvanian Studies and the Romanian Academy. • Book Reviews Editorial Board Andrew Tait Jarboe and Richard S. Fogarty, eds., Cesare Alzati, Ph.D. Empires in : Shifting Frontiers­ Facoltà di Scienze della Formazione, Istituto and Imperial Dynamics in a Global Conflict di Storia Moderna e Contemporanea, Università Cattolica, Milan, (reviewed by Raluca Botoş) 144 Horst Fassel, Ph.D. Fabien Théofilakis, ed., Cote à côte: Berry-au-Bac Institut für donauschwäbische Geschichte dans la Première Guerre mondiale: Perspectives und Landeskunde, Tübingen, Germany Konrad Gündisch, Ph.D. franco-allemandes sur les fronts de l’Aisne Bundesinstitut für Kultur und Geschichte (reviewed by Iuliu-Marius Morariu) 147 der Deutschen im östlichen Europa, Oldenburg, Germany Adrian Onofreiu and Cornelia Vlaşin, eds., Harald Heppner, Ph.D. Rãzboiul din spatele tranşeelor: Contribuþii documentare Institut für Geschichte, Graz, Austria referitoare la judeþul Bistriþa-Nãsãud Paul E. Michelson, Ph.D. (reviewed by Iuliu-Marius Morariu) 148 Huntington University, Indiana, USA Momčilo Pavlović, Ph.D. Harald Heppner, ed., Umbruch mit Schlachtenlärm: Director of the Institute of Contemporary Siebenbürgen und der Erste Weltkrieg History, Belgrade, Serbia (reviewed by Mircea-Gheorghe Abrudan) 149 Alexandru Zub, Ph.D. Academician, honorary director of A. D. Christa Hämmerle, Oswald Überegger, and Birgitta Xenopol Institute of History, Iaºi, Romania Bader Zaar, eds., Gender and the First World War Editorial Staff (reviewed by Angela Cristina Lumezeanu) 153 Ioan-Aurel Pop Daniela Mârza Ioan Bolovan Robert-M. Mihalache ouis oseph ionnet L J V , Retragerea lui Napoleon Raveca Divricean Alexandru Simon din Rusia: Memoriile maiorului Vionnet, 1812 Maria Ghitta Florian D. Soporan (reviewed by Florian Dumitru Soporan) 156 Rudolf Gräf George State Virgil Leon • Contributors 160 Translated by Bogdan Aldea—English Liana Lãpãdatu—French This issue of the Transylvanian Review Desktop Publishing has been published with the support Edith Fogarasi of Babeº-Bolyai University of Cluj-Napoca. Cosmina Varga Publication indexed and abstracted in the Correspondence, manuscripts and books should be sent to: Transylvanian Review, ® Thomson Reuters Social Sciences Citation Index Centrul de Studii Transilvane and in Arts & Humanities Citation Index®, (Center for Transylvanian Studies) and included in ebsco’s and elsevier’s products. 12–14 Mihail Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania. ISSN 1221-1249 All material copyright © 2018 by the Center for Transylvanian Studies and the Printed in Romania by Color Print Romanian Academy. Reproduction or use 66, 22 Decembrie 1989 St., without written permission is prohibited. zalãu 450031, Romania [email protected] Tel. (0040)260-660598 www.centruldestudiitransilvane.ro paradigms

The Impact of the Great War on Demographic

D a n i e l a M â r z a Events in Transylvania

The war disrupted the fam- World War I greatly affected fam- ily’s natural rhythms, which ily structures, both in the years of the ensured both the perpetuation conflict and in the following decades— the loss of human lifes, the decline in of future generations and birth rates, the increase in mortality, the the transmission of specific ravages of epidemics, emigration, popu- lation movements, the increase in the cultural values. number of widows and orphans.1 There were imbalances in the number of men and women, as well as in age distribu- tion; postwar reconstruction became the task of an aging active population, diminished by losses on the battlefront; the dramatic decline in birth rates caused economic and social damage, the ef- fect of which was felt for decades.2 The Great War determined, thus, significant changes in the practices and behaviors of individuals. Due to the 100th anniversary of the great conflagration, researchers Daniela Mârza have raised the issue of its impact on Senior researcher at the Center for the affected population. Currently, Transylvanian Studies of the Romanian hundreds of studies and volumes are Academy. available on general population trends 4 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) in the regions affected by the war, or on specific issues. Chief among them are some thematic numbers of prestigious magazines: Annales de démographie histo- rique 1 (103)(2002), entitled “La Population dans la Grande Guerre” (which brings together articles on the causes of mortality both on and off the battle- fields, on the effect of migration, epidemics and diseases on population etc.); Journal of the International Society for First World War Studies 5, 1 (2014), en- titled “Humanitarianism in the Era of the First World War,” dedicated to the humanitarian dimension of the war, to the victims (wounded, widows, orphans, veterans) and to social assistance measures. Most of these studies address issues with the strongest and most visible im- pact. The causes of mortality in the years of the war, besides those strictly related to the battlefields, were thoroughly researched, highlighting the impact of mate- rial deprivations, diseases and epidemics, of the poor general condition of the population.3 The notion of “war losses” has been extended from fallen soldiers to all population losses due to declining birth rates and civilian deaths.4 The population of the states involved in the war was also affected by complex phenomena, with multiple causes and consequences, such as migration, depor- tation, the internment of defeated soldiers, which contributed to the chaos and disintegration of the old world.5

ransylvania, as a part of Austria-Hungary until 1918, suffered deeply the consequences of the war. No battles took place in its territory, except T for August–October of 1916, when several border regions found them- selves on the path of the Romanian army’s offensive. Transylvania was, how- ever, affected by the difficulties of the war: the massive conscription of the men, a drastic drop in the quality of life, a dramatic increase in the prices of food and consumer goods, etc. Between 1 August 1914 and 1 November 1918, 926,500 men aged between 18 and 50 were conscripted in Transylvania, representing 16.5% of the province’s population.6 With the departure of so many men, eco- nomic activities were left to women, children and the elderly, which led to the disruption of economic life. The government made numerous requisitions, essential goods became in- creasingly harder to obtain, bread was of very poor quality, meat was scarce, food and other goods were heavily rationed; even the bells of the churches were requisitioned (melted down in order to make cannons), and a great part of the Romanian elite was conscripted and sent to the front, or was interned in Hunga- ry for easier supervision, especially after Romania’s entry into the war in 1916. Political pressure was added to economic difficulties: from an ethnic point of view, the population of Transylvania was composed mostly of , then of , Germans, Gypsies etc.; although a minority in Transylva- Paradigms • 5 nia, the Hungarians held the dominant position in government, politics and the economy, a cause of old and strong resentment and frustration among the Romanians. As to the latter, during the war, their loyalty to the cause of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was regarded with suspicion, a situation aggravated by the fact that the neighboring state, the , was in the enemy camp. During the in Transylvania, a large part of the population fled, seeking refuge inland; the Hungarians were also afraid of the hostility of the Romanians. At the end of this campaign, after the retreat of the Romanian army, the Hungarian government retaliated against a part of their own citizens of Romanian ethicity, suspected of collaborating with the enemy.7 Most of the articles and books available on this topic cover some aspects pertaining to demographic phenomena such as marriage, birth, and death, in the context of the war. Quantitative data on these events are accompanied by analyses aimed to highlight the impact on the population of men’s conscription, war losses, or emigration.8 From a social perspective, these works mainly con- cerned the rural area of Transylvania, with a higher share of the population than the urban areas; some of the issues highlighted in these studies are the manner in which the hardships of war changed the demographic behavior of individu- als, their view about the significant moments in life, about family; as in the rest of Europe, there is a significant decrease in the number of marriages during the war, due to the absence of men and the general uncertainty.9 The war profoundly affected the province’s population in many other ways than just the disruption of family life. The large number of men gone to the front, the prisoners of war, the Transylvanian volunteers who enlisted in the Romanian army, the population movements due to the advancing armies, the increasing number of widows and orphans, are so many phenomena that had a significant impact.10 Despite of all these articles and books, Transylvania still lacks a detailed analysis of the main events in family life—birth, marriage, death. This paper aims to analyze the evolution of these events during 1913–1918, based on the statistical data collected by the Hungarian government of the time.11

Marriages

s shown in Graph 1, the number of marriages decreased considerably during the war, primarily due to the departure of the majority of men A aged between 18 and 50, then to the poverty and unpredictability of the war and its consequences. At the beginning of the war, the general opinion was 6 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Graph 1. Marriages 1913–1918 30,000 24,574 25,000 21,765 20,000 13,710 15,000 8,621 8,529 10,000 6,154 5,000

0 1913 1914 1915 1 1916 1917 1918 that it would end quickly, and the soldiers would be home by Christmas. Gradu- ally, it became clear that no one could predict the end of the war, or its aftermath. In addition, a shift in the attitude of women towards marriage was gradu- ally appearing.12 Forced to take up a lot of the men’s jobs in households and the economy, a part of the women started to discover their new power, and began to discard old beliefs, no longer considering marriage to be the greatest achieve- ment of their life. Already in 1914, although the general mobilization was decreed only on 1 August, the number of marriages was 11.34% lower than in the previous year. In 1915, the number of marriages was 64.91% lower than in last year of peace, and in 1916, the year of the Romanian offensive in Transylvania, the number of marriages was 74.95% lower than in 1913. The number of marriages began to rise again in 1917, and especially in 1918, with the end of the war and the return of the men, who rushed to marry and re-enter the normal life cycle. The number of marriages varied on a monthly basis, according to religious fasting periods, when weddings were prohibited (often the months between Christmas and Easter, for example), to the work of the land, or harvests (the au- tumn was preferred, after winemaking). During the war, the monthly fluctuation was also influenced by the evolution of the conflict, but there is still not enough data available for an exact correlation (see, for example, the month of September 1916, dominated by Romania’s offensive in Transylvania)(see Graph 2). The age of married couples is another aspect with visible changes during the war. If, during the years of peace, most marriages were concluded by men in the 20–24 age group, followed by the 25–29 age group, during the war this ratio reversed slightly, due to the conscription, at the beginning of the war, mostly of the men up to 36 years of age; the men older than that were only mobilized during the spring of 1915 (see Graph 3). Paradigms • 7

Graph 2. Marriages monthly distribution (1913–1918)

6,000 5,000 4,000 3,000 2,000 1,000 0 1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 10181918 Jan. Feb. March April May June July Aug. Sept. Oct. Nov. Dec.

Graph 3. Groom age

< 20 20–2420-24 25–2925-29 30-3930–39 40–4940-49 50–5950-59 > 60 9,808

8,646

7,058 6,636

4,998

4,122

3,184 2,891 2,709 2,593 2,593 2,464 2,251 2,147 2,026 1,956 1,628 1,275 1,129 1,037 892 870 851 746 725 683 658 629 628 567 527 488 400 364 357 328 304 298 295 245 219 169

1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

As shown in Table 1, there was an increase in the proportion of marriages with the groom older than 40 (percentage of total marriages per year):

Table 1. Proportion of marriages with the groom older than 40 (%)

Groom age 1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918 40–49 4.62 4.63 11.70 12.06 7.41 6.04 50–59 3.07 2.80 6.39 8.50 7.69 5.30 >60 1.24 1.57 3.36 4.43 4.02 2.84

This situation was caused by the absence of men from the normally preferred age groups (20–39 years); most of the marriages involving men in the second half of their lives are recorded in 1915 and 1916, when the women left at home, unmar- ried or widowed, settled with grooms from age groups that they would have not 8 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) considered otherwise. Towards the end of the war, after the demobilization and the return home of the younger men, these proportions began decreasing again. As for the age of the brides, there were no major changes during the war: the largest number of marriages were concluded by women in the 20–24 age group, then by those aged 17–19, as was normally the case in Transylvania at that time (see Graph 4).

Graph 4. Bride age

< 17 17–1917-19 20–2420-24 25–2925-29 30–3930-39 40–4940-49 > 50

9,336

7,410

6,664 5,963

5,086

3,466

2,852 2,488 2,447 2,447 2,406 2,084 1,979

1,647 1,630 1,598 1,583 1,573 1,520 1,438 1,390 1,271 1,217 1,201 1,051 1,028 704 696 616 617 562 558 497 493 474 472 464 450 329 250 200 183

1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

Most of the couples were at their first marriage; during the war, however, the number of marriages involving widowed or divorced partners increased by about 20%: following the death of their husbands on the battlefields, many young women were widowed, becoming available again on the “marriage market.”

Graph 5. Marital status of groom & bride (percentage of the total of marriages/year)

1918 1917

1916

1915 1914

1913

0.00%0 10.00%10 20.00%20 30.00%30 40.00%40 50.00%50 60.00%60 70.00%70 80.00%80 Divorced & divorced Divorced&Divorced & widow widow Divorced & never married Widower & divorced Widower & widow Widower & never married Never married & divorced Never married & widow Never married & Nevernever marriedmarried

During the war, the percentage of marriages concluded by widows was more than double than during the last year of peace, as follows: Paradigms • 9

Graph 6. Marriages with widowed bride (percentage of total marriages/year)

16.83 16.49 15.36 14.56

7.87 8.61

1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918 1

Births

he dramatic decline in fertility, due to the massive departure of men to war and the uncertainty of the times, is considered by some specialists T to be responsible for a demographic decrease that equals the loss of life on the battlefront. The population of the states involved in the war took several decades to recover. This drop in numbers also had many social and economic consequences.13 During the war and in the following years, in some regions, the number of male births was significantly higher rather than that of female births.14

Graph 7. Births 1913–1918 97,602 95,887

65,546

43,725 41,352 39,334

1913 1914 1915Births total1916 1917 1918

In Transylvania, as in the rest of Europe, the number of births collapsed espe- cially in 1915–1918; beside the most obvious explanation, that of the absence of men able to procreate and provide for the children, some authors15 also suggest a certain pragmatic attitude towards children: during those extremely difficult times, a newborn baby was not an asset, but a liability, requiring special care and hard to provide for. This would have been an additional reason for limiting births, even in families with men left at home. 10 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

During the first months of the war, the number of births remained somewhat close to that of peacetime, the children born being conceived before the out- break of the war, or shortly thereafter. The lower figures from the second half of 1915 clearly show the effects of the men’s departure to the battlefront, and of material deprivation.

Graph 8. Live births 1913–1918 monthly distribution

10,000 8,000 6,000 4,000 2,000 0 1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

Jan. Feb. March April May June July Aug. Sept. Oct. Nov. Dec.

During those years, family life was severely affected. In many households, only women, children and the elderly remained; in many cases, the women took up the task of providing for the remaining family, being forced to act in ways previously reserved to men. The social and moral restraints that normally gov- erned family relationships were no longer as strong as they used to be. In this context, many women renounced conjugal fidelity or chastity, engaging in illicit relationships—a situation frequently mentioned by the sources of that time, and feared by the men on the battlefront. This also resulted, among other things, in the increase of illegitimate births, especially during the last years of the war.

Graph 9. Illegitimate births (percentage of total births/year)

12.68 14.00 10.00 10.59 10.41 10.24

1913 1914 1915illegitimate1916 1917 1918

An interesting aspect is that of stillbirths. More often than not, pregnant women did not receive specialized care during pregnancy or childbirth, which some- times resulted in stillbirth. Considering the material deprivations caused by the Paradigms • 11 war, an increase in the number of stillbirths was expected. Pregnant women lived in worse conditions than in peacetime, they worked harder and ate poorly, and the huge increase in living costs left fewer resources for healthcare. Under these circumstances, the number of stillbirths increased slightly, but not enough to be confidently ascribed to the war. The fact that the number of stillbirths did not increase proportionally to the ravages of the war indicates other possible causes than poverty and material deprivation.

Graph 10. Stillbirths as percentage of total births/year 2.19 1.97 1.97 2.10 1.81 1.92

1913 1914 1915Stillbirths 1916 1917 1918

Deaths

he data available to us covers the deaths recorded on the territory of the province, relating to the population left at home. The deaths on the T battlefields are not included in this censuses. This is why the figures seem to show a decrease in mortality during the most difficult years of the war, 1916 and 1917. Mortality on the home front was mainly due to disease, primarily infectious, but not only. The main causes were cholera, tuberculosis, dysentery, whooping cough, diphtheria, syphilis, and the . There were also tumors, heart disease, congenital diseases, etc., all reflecting the poor health and living condi- tions of the population. Being, as already indicated, incomplete, the data do not allow for definitive conclusions about mortality in Transylvania during the war (see Graph 11). An interesting aspect is that of infant mortality, with very high rates in Tran- sylvania during the modern era, with an average of 204.5‰ in 1900–1910.16 Among the medical causes of death for children aged 0–1 in Transylvania in the modern era, we find “congenital debility,” premature birth, birth defects, whoop- ing cough, influenza, pulmonary tuberculosis and even syphilis. The most common were respiratory inflammation and digestive problems. Digestive diseases prevailed during summer, the respiratory ones mostly during winter.17 12 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Graph 11. Deaths 1913–1918

Men Women

38,607 37,394 37,240 34,950 33,930 33,296 32,400 30,245 30,219 29,855 28,350 26,855

1913 1914 1915 1916 1917 1918

The lack of medical care contributed to the high number of babies who died at this age. Most mothers were not assisted during pregnancy, neither by a physi- cian, nor by a qualified midwife, but by untrained midwives, or by no one at all. Most sick children did not receive qualified medical care. A similar situation could be seen in Western Europe, where a systematic policy to ensure proper medical care in rural areas began only in the second half of the 19th century.18 In Transylvania this happened later, after World War I. Poor hygiene also played an important role in these deaths. In most cases, the family homes were unsanitary, poorly ventilated and overcrowded. Most houses were small, with narrow windows through which the light could not enter very well; most of them did not open, so the houses were poorly venti- lated. The furniture was scarce, and poor households did not use line. Four or five family members slept in one bed, and those left without a place slept on the floor. In those circumstances, it was impossible to isolate infectious patients, so that epidemics spread easily. Sometimes, children with contagious diseases were intentionally kept together with the healthy ones, in order for the family to “get through” the disease faster.19 The worsening of these conditions during the war would have normally led to a substantial increase in infant mortality, which did not happen. In 1915, this percentage was higher than the average value for peacetime, but in the following years the rate decreased. One possible explanation would be that this phenom- enon had causes far deeper than economic deprivation and social difficulties; maybe, during the modern era, infant mortality was at its worst in Transylvania, regardless of the war. As for older children, if we consider the number of live births of 1913 as a reference, and follow their situation until 1918, we notice that 21.08% of them died during the first year of life, 4.75% of them died between 1 and 2 years of age, 3.23 % between 2 and 3 years, 2.12% between 3 and 4 years, 1.18% be- tween 4 and 5 years, and 1.06% of them died at 5 years of age. In other words, 33.42% of the children born in 1913 died before the age of six. Responsible for this situation is the precarious state of health and hygiene mentioned below. Paradigms • 13

Graph 12. Infant mortality (percentage of live births/year)

24.98 21.08 20.94 20.20 19.46 17.14

1913 1914 1915 1 1916 1917 1918

Conclusions

he Great War affected the major events in family life—birth, marriage and death—in a way that is obvious in statistical records. The war dis- T rupted the family’s natural rhythms, which ensured both the perpetu- ation of future generations and the transmission of specific cultural values; it triggered a shift in the attitudes towards marriage, towards the traditional roles of women and men in the household. Some of the statistical data show predict- able trends in marriages, births and deaths during the war. Others, however, such as those relating to infant mortality and stillbirths, raise more questions than answers, and may be future research directions. q

Notes

1. Olivier Faron, “Guerre(s) et démographie historique,” Annales de démographie histo- rique 1, 103 (2002): 5–9. 2. Jean-Marc Rohrbasser, ed., Bouleversements demographiques de la Grande Guerre (Paris: ined, 2014). 3. Lucia Pozzi, “La population italienne pendant la Grande Guerre,” Annales de démo­ graphie historique 1, 103 (2002): 121–142; Peter C. Wever and Leo van Bergen, “Death from 1918 pandemic influenza during the First World War: a perspective from personal and anecdotal evidence,” Influenza and Other Respiratory Viruses 8, 5 (2014): 538–546; Bernard Harris, “The Demographic Impact of the First World War: An Anthropometric Perspective,” Social History of Medicine 6, 3 (1993): 343–366. 4. Peter Teibenbacher, “Austrian demography during World War 1,” paper presented at the Eleventh European Social Science History Conference in Valencia, 30 March–2 April 2016. 5. Jay Winter, “Migration, War and empire: the British case,” Annales de démographie his-­ to­rique 1, 103 (2002): 143–160; Erika Kuhlman, The International Migration of Ger- 14 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

man Great War Veterans: Emotion, Transnational Identity, and Loyalty to the Nation, 1914–1942 (New York: Palgrave Pivot, 2016); Matthew Stibbe, “Enemy Aliens, De- portees, Refugees: Internment Practices in the Habsburg Empire, 1914–1918,” Jour- nal of Modern European History 12, 4 (2014): 479–499. 6. Liviu Maior, Habsburgi şi români: de la loialitatea dinasticã la identitate naþionalã (: Ed. Enciclopedicã, 2006), 131. 7. Ioana Elena Ignat Kisanovici, Participare şi mobilizare în Transilvania în Primul Rãz­ boi Mondial: Perspective socioeconomice şi demografice (Cluj-Napoca: Academia Românã, Centrul de Studii Transilvane, 2015), 65. 8. Ioan Bolovan, Transilvania între Revoluþia de la 1849 ºi Unirea din 1918: Contribuþii demografice (Cluj-Napoca: Fundaþia Culturalã Românã, Centrul de Studii Transil- vane, 2000); Ioan Bolovan and Sorina Paula Bolovan, “The Impact of World War I on the Family in Transylvania”, in Families in Europe between the 19th and the 21st century: From the traditional model to the contemporary pacs, eds. Antoinette Fauve Chamoux and Ioan Bolovan (Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitarã Clujeanã, 2009), Supplement of the Romanian Journal of Population Studies, 611–628; id., “Demo- graphic phenomena and behaviour in Transylvania during World War I,” Romanian Journal of Population Studies (Cluj-Napoca) 1, 1–2 (2007): 164–180. 9. Bogdan Crãciun, “Families in the War: the Impact of First World War on the Demo- graphic Behaviour in the Rural World of Transylvania”, Romanian Journal of Popu- lation Studies 7, 2 (2013): 43–62; Eugenia Bârlea, Perspectiva lumii rurale asupra Primului Rãzboi Mondial (Cluj-Napoca: Argonaut, 2004). 10. Cornel Þucã, Prizonierii români din Armata austro-ungarã internaþi în Rusia: Prob- lemele repatrierii (Cluj-Napoca: Argonaut, 2011); Mihaela Grancea, “Despre prob- lematica asistãrii sociale a orfanilor primului rãzboi mondial în presa confesionalã din Transilvania (1919–1925),” Revista istoricã (Bucharest) 22, 5–6 (2011): 565–575; Mirela Popa-Andrei and Diana Covaci, “The Ecclesiastical Authorities’ Refuge from the Advancing Frontlines during World War I. Case Studies: (1916–1917) and Blaj (1918–1919),” in Primul Rãzboi Mondial: Perspectivã istoricã şi istoriogra- ficã/World War I: A Historical and Historiographical Perspective, eds. Ioan Bolovan, Gheorghe Cojocaru, and Oana Mihaela Tãmaş (Cluj-Napoca: Academia Românã, Centrul de Studii Transilvane/Presa Universitarã Clujeanã, 2015), 377–388. 11. A Magyar Szent Korona Országainak 1913–1918. évi népmozgalma (Budapest, 1924). 12. See, for example, John Knowles and Guillaume Vandenbroucke, “Dynamic Squeez- ing: Marriage and Fertility in After World War One,” 1 July 2013, http:// jaknowles.org/resources/Knowles-Vandenbroucke-wwi-Marriage.pdf (accessed on 16.06.2016). 13. Guillaume Vandenbroucke, “Fertility and Wars: The Case of World War I in France,” American Economic Journal: Macroeconomics 6, 2 (2014): 108–136. 14. William H. James and John Valentine, “A further note on the rises in sex ratio at birth during and just after the two World Wars,” Journal of Theoretical Biology 363 (2014): 404–411. 15. Ignat Kisanovici. Paradigms • 15

16. Traian Rotariu, ed., Maria Semeniuc, and Mezei Elemér, Mişcarea naturalã a popu- laþiei între 1901–1910: Transilvania, 2 vols. (Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitarã Clu- jeanã, 2005). 17. Gheorghe Popoviciu, Mortalitatea infantilã în Ardeal: Cauze ºi mijloace de combatere. Date ºi concluzii din ancheta internaþionalã întreprinsã în plasa sanitarã model Gilãu (jud. Cluj) în anul 1931 (Cluj: Tip. Transilvania, 1933). 18. W. Robert Lee and Peter Marschalck, “Infant mortality in Germany in the 18th and 19th centuries,” The History of the Family 7, 4 (2002): 501–504. 19. “Raportul domnului dr. Dominic Stanca, dir. Medic ºef al Spitalului de femei din Cluj, despre ancheta sanitarã fãcutã în Poiana Ampoiului din jud. Alba Inferioarã (10–22 dec. 1921),” Sãnãtatea publicã: Buletin oficial al Inspectoratului general al sãnãtãþii publice (Cluj) 1 (1922): 14–18.

Abstract The Impact of the Great War on Demographic Events in Transylvania

Transylvania, as a part of Austria-Hungary until 1918, suffered deeply the consequences of the war. No battles took place on its territory, except for August–October of 1916, when several border regions found themselves on the path of the Romanian army’s offensive. Transylvania was, however, affected by the difficulties of the war: the massive conscription of the men, a drastic drop in the quality of life, a dramatic increase in the prices of food and consumer goods, etc. Family life was severely affected. In many households, only women, children and the elderly remained; in many cases, women took up the task of providing for the remaining family, being forced to act in ways previously reserved to men. The number of marriages decreased considerably during the war, primarily due to the departure of the majority of men aged between 18 and 50, then to the poverty and unpredictability of the war and its consequences. The number of births collapsed especially in 1915–1918.

Keywords Transylvania, Great War, demography, marriages, births, deaths The Union of Bukovina C o n s t a n ti n U n g u r e a n u with Romania in 1918

Territorial Claims and Projects Concerning the Division of Bukovina during the First Years of the War

uring the First World War, Bukovina was of great interest D to the states in the area. The Austro-Hungarian monarchy wanted , Synodal Hall of the Metropolitan the perpetuation and even the extension Residence: the General Congress of Bukovina, of the province with territories in north- 28 November 1918 ern and northern . Russia, relying on the Slavic element in Bukovina and acting on geostrate- gic interests, claimed the whole prov- ince or at least its northern part. Based on the historical right and the ethno- demographic criterion, the Bucharest Government wanted the integration of this territory into Romania. The Ukrai- nian national movement claimed more than half of the territory of Bukovina, Constantin Ungureanu up to the Siret River, including the cit- Doctor habilitatus in history, research ies of Cernãuþi (Chernivtsi), Siret, and coordinator at the Kishinev Institute of Storojineþ (). In Bukovina History, the author of 4 monographs on the history of Bukovina, contributor to a historical-statistical study on the popula- A longer Romanian-language version of tion of Chernivtsi, to a monograph on this article was published in Confesiuni, the Austrian cadaster in Bukovina, and culturã, naþiune: Perspectivã istoricã, eds. to a textbook on the local history of the Iulian Boldea and Cornel Sigmirean (Cluj- region of Chernivtsi. Napoca: Argonaut, 2018), 109–127. Paradigms • 17 and Galicia there was also a Pan-Slav Russian movement claiming territories of Austria-Hungary for the . The Pan-Russian movement claimed a large territory of Bukovina, up to the city of Siret.1 At the beginning of the war, in the city of Chernivtsi, a Ruthenian Commit- tee was established. It supported Russia’s claims regarding this territory and the region of Bukovina between the Prut and the Siret Rivers. In order to combat these claims, in February 1915, drew up a memorandum in which he advocated for the rights of the Romanians, referring to Bukovina’s territory between the Prut and the Siret Rivers, on the basis of historical, ethnographic, economic, and cultural arguments. Iancu Flondor accepted that Bukovina’s ter- ritory located north of the Prut River would be lost; he admitted the fact that the western part of the province was compactly inhabited by Ukrainians, but he noted that “it would be much more profitable to give up the ‘Ruthenian Mountains’ than the disputable territory between the Prut and the Siret Rivers.” According to his calculations, 48 localities of the respective territory (including the city of Chernivtsi) were inhabited by 183,390 persons, of which 64,643 Ro- manians, 46,044 and 72,703 of other nationalities.2 In his memo- randum,3 Iancu Flondor showed that if it was not possible to obtain the whole of Bukovina, the territory between the Prut and the Siret Rivers with the city of Chernivtsi should not be given away under any circumstances. While trying to attract Romania into the war on their sides, both Russia and Austria-Hungary promised important territorial concessions, including Bu- kovina, in favor of Romania. In exchange, the Austrian diplomacy promised Bessarabia, but took into account ceding a part of Bukovina to Romania. In June 1915, at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in there were negotiations regarding Bukovina. Three alternatives, with the future frontier along specific rivers, were taken into account.4 According to the first alternative, Romania would have received the districts of , Gura Humorului, and Solca, as well as the part of the Rãdãuþi District located south of the Suceava River. The second alternative provided the additional cession of the Stulpicani, Câmpu- lung, and Vatra Dornei Districts in southwestern Bukovina. The third alterna- tive, the most radical one, provided that almost half of Bukovina, up to the Siret River, should be transferred to Romania. The Austrian experts considered the third alternative to be the most adequate for settling the Bukovina dispute on the basis of the nationality criterion.5 In all these cases, the specificities of the Romanian settlements on the upper course of the Suceava and the Siret Rivers were not taken into account, for several villages extended on both banks of the respective rivers. The course of events during the war dashed the hopes of the Austrian authorities for attracting Romania on their side, and the discussions regarding possible territorial cessions in Bukovina were not put into practice. 18 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Several Russian projects for the annexation of Bukovina to the Russian Em- pire were also drawn up during the war. The first project suggested the incor- poration of the entire Bukovina into Russia and was proposed in mid–January 1915 by Lieutenant General F. Vebel. The second project was proposed by D. N. Vergun, one of the leading experts in the matter of Bukovina and Galicia in Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The author of the project insisted that Chernivtsi and a part of northern Bukovina should remain Russian possessions. By the end of 1916, A. Gerovsky and Anthony, Archbishop of Kharkov, devised a project for the annexation of Bukovina to Russia. According to the authors of the project, the territory of Bukovina, which should have become part of Ro- mania according to the Treaty of August 1916, was the richest, and the Church Fund possessed the most extensive forests in southern Bukovina.6 The three Russian projects, developed during 1915 and 1916, demonstrate that Russia would have annexed the largest part of Bukovina and the city of Chernivtsi, disregarding the arrangements made with Romania. After the outbreak of the war, the authorities in Bucharest negotiated the war entry conditions with the representatives of the belligerent countries, hoping to recover at least a part of the territories inhabited by Romanians in the Austro- Hungarian monarchy and in Czarist Russia. On 4/17 August 1916, a secret treaty between Romania and the countries of the Entente was signed in Bucha- rest, whereby France, England, and Russia recognized Romania’s rights con- cerning the Romanian territories in Transylvania, Banat, Crişana, Maramureş, and Bukovina. In Article IV, this secret treaty provided that “the border line will start from the Prut, from a point of the current frontiers between Russia and Romania, close to Novoselitsa, and it will go up the river as far as Galicia’s border, where the Prut meets the Cheremosh. From here it will follow the bor- der between Galicia and Hungary up to the Steag point, at level 1,655.”7 Thus, Russia accepted to obtain only the Bukovina between the Prut and the Rivers, while the rest of the territory, including the city of Chernivtsi, was going to join Romania.

Bukovina in the First World War

uring the war, Bukovina was seriously affected by military operations; it was occupied three times, almost entirely, by the Russian Army. The D military operations carried out on the territory of Bukovina brought great damage to the economy and the population. The men aged between 18 and 53 were conscripted, and numerous inhabitants sought refuge in Austria and other countries. Many industrial enterprises were destroyed or evacuated, Paradigms • 19 railway lines were dismantled, and roads and bridges were devastated. The ag- riculture suffered great damages. The biggest destruction occurred in the vil- lages between the Prut and the Dniester Rivers, especially along the border with Bessarabia, where the most violent military confrontations took place. In the meantime, in Russia, the Bolshevik Revolution was taking place, and on 3 March 1918, in Brest-Litovsk, a separate Peace Treaty was signed between Russia and the Central Powers. At the beginning of 1918, the Parliament in Kiev proclaimed the independence of and claimed the territories in- habited by Ukrainians in Galicia, Bukovina, Bessarabia, and Maramureş. On 9 February 1918, the representatives of Ukraine and Austria-Hungary signed in Brest-Litovsk a secret treaty according to which Austria-Hungary was going to receive a significant quantity of cereals, and in exchange, the authorities in Vien- na were going to establish a new Austrian province that had to include Eastern Galicia and Bukovina. However, due to the opposition of the Polish deputies and of the events occurred during the war, this problem was not discussed in the Vienna Parliament. At the same time, in 1917, most of Romania was occupied by the German and Austro-Hungarian Armies, and the Bucharest Government temporarily moved to Iaşi. Under these circumstances, on 5 March 1918, a preliminary Peace Treaty was signed at Buftea, and on 7 May 1918, the Peace Treaty of Bucharest was concluded, according to which Romania gave up the Romanian territories in Austria-Hungary, and the territory of Bukovina was going to increase with a part of County, the Hertsa region in and the mountain area of Dorna. After signing this Treaty, Romania lost almost 6,000 km2, of which approximately 600 km2 were going to be part of the enlarged Bukovina. Article XI of this Treaty described the boundary in the mountain area of Romania, which was going to be rectified in favor of Austria-Hungary.8 If this treaty had entered into force, an important area located south of Vatra Dornei, a few villages near the cities of Suceava and Siret, as well as a larger territory in the region of Hertsa, in- cluding the commercial towns of Hertsa and Mihãileni, would have been included into Bukovina, thus becoming part of a reorganized Austria-Hungary. After the peace treaties with Russia and Ukraine were signed, the German and Austro-Hungarian troops occupied significant territories in Ukraine as well as a part of Khotyn County in northern Bessarabia. In the autumn of 1918, the districts of Câmpulung, Gura Humorului, and Siret were going to be extended with the territories ceded by Romania, and a new district with Þureni (Tsuren) as its capital was going to be founded; this new district was supposed to include the villages in the Hertsa region as well. In addition, a new judicial district was to be created, with its headquarters in Khotyn, comprising the localities of north- ern Bessarabia that were going to be included into the province of Bukovina.9 20 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

The Activity of the Bukovinian Deputies in the Vienna Parliament (October 1918)

uring August and September 1918, the Allied armies of the Entente countries began extensive offensives on the western front, defeating the D Austrian-German troops, which brought closer the end of the war. On 4 October 1918, in the Vienna Parliament, there was a debate over President Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Points. One of these points provided that the peo- ples of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy had the right to organize themselves autonomously. However, the Czechs, the Poles, the Hungarians, and the Slavs inhabiting the southern part of Austria-Hungary no longer accepted a political reorganization of the empire and wanted their complete independence from the Vienna authorities. In the Austrian Parliament, there were 14 deputies sent by Bukovina, elected as early as 1911, out of which 6 were Romanians. During the Parliament meet- ing of 4 October 1918, Deputy Constantin Isopescu-Grecul, on behalf of the Romanian deputies, requested extended autonomy for the 4 million Romanians in Austria and Hungary, but within a federal monarchy.10 On 16 October 1918, King Charles I Habsburg issued the proclamation “To My Faithful Austrian Peoples!”, in which he accepted Austria-Hungary’s reorganization into a federation of six “independent” states, i.e. the Austrian, Hungarian, Czech, Yugoslav, Polish, and Ukrainian states; Transylvania was going to remain part of Hungary.11 This Manifesto did not mention the status of Bukovina, but stipulated that its inhabitants were going to decide the manner in which they would be included into the future federal state. In the Austrian Parliament session of 22 October, Deputy Isopescu-Grecul requested for the Romanians of Bukovina and Hungary the right to organize themselves in their own state that would be part of the new confederation of states in Austria.12 In the same meeting of the Vienna Parliament, the Social-Democrat Dep- uty Gheorghe Grigorovici expressed his firm opinion against the splitting of Bukovina and accused Nikolai Wasilko, Ukrainian deputy for Bukovina, that during the peace negotiations in Brest-Litovsk he had opted for the inclusion of Bukovina into the Ukrainian state. In his turn, Deputy Nikolai Wasilko re- quested the splitting of Bukovina between Romanians and Ukrainians, claiming that the Ukrainians would discuss with the Romanians based on the right to self-determination. The German Deputy Anton Keschmann spoke against the splitting of Bukovina and requested that the political and cultural rights of the German community be guaranteed when settling the national issue in Bukovina and Eastern Galicia.13 Paradigms • 21

The last meeting of the Vienna Parliament took place on 28 October, and two Romanian deputies from Bukovina were also present (Constantin Isopescu- Grecul and Teofil Simionovici). On 3 November, Austria-Hungary requested the signing of an armistice and the conclusion of military hostilities, and on 11 November, Germany also signed an armistice putting an end to the war. On 11 November, King Charles I abdicated; thus, the Austro-Hungarian monarchy was abolished, and the republic was proclaimed.

The Founding of the Romanian National Council in Chernivtsi

he fall of the Habsburg Empire created favorable conditions for the af- firmation of the Romanian national movement in Bukovina. At the end T of October, deputies Alexandru Hurmuzachi, Gheorghe Sârbu, Gheor- ghe Grigorovici, and were in Chernivtsi. Alexandru Hurmuzachi, who was also president of the Bukovina Parliament, was hesitant and loyal to the central authorities. In addition, Aurel Onciul maintained his opinion that the Austro-Hungarian monarchy could be reorganized, and he opted for a settle- ment with the Ukrainians concerning the future of Bukovina. At the same time, a part of the Romanian intellectuals, led by the teachers Ion Nistor and , had sought refuge in Romania, most of them in Kishinev. Under these circumstances, at Sextil Puşcariu’s initiative, a group of intel- lectuals met on 12 October and decided to take action for the affirmation of the national rights of the Bukovinian Romanians. On the same occasion, the decision to publish the newspaper Glasul Bucovinei (The Voice of Bukovina) was taken. On 16 October, Iancu Flondor, the famous political personality, ar- rived in Bukovina’s capital. In those historical days, he took the leading position in the national movement and expressed a firm position against the splitting of Bukovina based on ethnic criteria. On 22 October, in Chernivtsi appeared the first issue of the newspaper Glasul Bucovinei, in which the program-article “What Do We Want?” was also pub- lished. On 27 October 1918, in Chernivtsi, there was an assembly of the Bukov- inian Romanians that was also attended by deputies to the Vienna and Bukovina Parliaments, Romanian mayors, representatives of the political parties and the Romanian cultural associations.14 The meeting proclaimed itself a Constituent Assembly and adopted a motion by which it decided “the union of the en- tire Bukovina with the other Romanian provinces into an independent national state” and the work towards this purpose in full solidarity with the Romanians 22 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) of Transylvania and Hungary. The Constituent Assembly firmly rejected any at- tempt that would split Bukovina, but wished to settle issues with the cohabiting peoples.15 The first meeting of the Romanian National Council of Bukovina, during which 50 members were elected, was held on 27 October 1918. On the same day, an Executive Committee was created; it consisted of Iancu Flondor (chair- man), Dionisie Bejan, Dori Popovici, Sextil Puşcariu (vice-chairmen), and all six Romanian deputies to the Austrian Parliament were appointed as its members.16 During the meeting of 27 October, Deputy Gheorghe Grigorovici stated that “we have to come to a certain agreement with the Ukrainians and the other cohabiting nations.” He pleaded for “a that should include all Romanian territories, but an honest and just Romania,” i.e. to do equal justice to inhabitants, regardless of their ethnic origin. On the same day, following Iancu Flondor’s proposal, the departments for foreign affairs, supplies, and ad- ministration were established.17 On 28 October, Iancu Flondor together with Gheorghe Sârbu and Dori Popovici went to the Government Palace and de- manded that Governor Joseph Graf von Etzdorf hand over the power to the Romanian National Council of Bukovina. Etzdorf, however, refused to accept this request.

The Situation in Bukovina at the Beginning of November 1918

n 3 November 1918, the Ukrainians organized an assembly in Cher- nivtsi. Its participants voted for the splitting of Bukovina based on the O ethnic criterion. The Ukrainian assembly decided that the city of Cher- nivtsi, the entire districts of Zastavna, Coþmani (Kitsman), Vãşcãuþi, and Vijniþa (Vizhnits), the districts of Chernivtsi and Siret, according to the majority estab- lished as a result of the last census, and some villages in Storozhynets, Rãdãuþi, Suceava, and Câmpulung with Ukrainian majorities should become Ukrainian national territories, and the Ukrainian National Council should assume control over these territories.18 The Austrian Governor Joseph Graf von Etzdorf intended to hand over the power to the representatives of the Bukovinian Romanians and Ukrainians equally, but Iancu Flondor refused this proposition. In the meantime, the situa- tion got out of control. Several administrative buildings in the city of Chernivtsi were occupied by Ukrainian troops. In order to restore order in Bukovina, Iancu Flondor requested the support of the Romanian Government. To this end, on 2 November 1918, Vasile Bodnãrescu was sent to Iaşi. Due to the fact that the Paradigms • 23 situation in Chernivtsi had become critical, Vasile Bodnãrescu requested the in- tervention of the Romanian Army in Bukovina. Iancu Flondor sent a telegram also to , who was the director of the Iaşi State Archives, in which he asked him to contact the Romanian authorities and request the entry of the Romanian troops in Bukovina.19 6 November 1918 was a crucial day for the future destiny of Bukovina. On this day, the representatives of the Ukrainians managed to take control of several important institutions in Chernivtsi, and they requested Governor von Etzdorf to hand over the leadership to the Ukrainian Council. The Romanian National Palace of Chernivtsi was devastated, and Iancu Flondor and Dionisie Bejan took refuge in the building of the Metropolitan Residence. Aurel Onciul, without consulting with the other representatives of the Romanians, agreed with the Ukrainians upon the creation of a Romanian government for the southern part and a Ukrainian one for the northern part of the province. The city of Chernivtsi was going to be administered jointly and the future Peace Congress was to is- sue a permanent decision on the fate of Bukovina. Aurel Onciul was appointed Romanian National commissioner, although he did not have the support of the representatives of the Bukovinian Romanians.20 On 6 November 1918, the conservative , led by , handed in its resignation. On the same day, in Iaşi, a new government was created, led by General Constantin Coandã. In the fol- lowing days, this government annulled the provisions of the Peace Treaty with the Central Powers and requested the German and Austro-Hungarian troops to leave Romania’s territory. On the morning of 6 November, the first units of Romanian border police and gendarmes entered the cities of Suceava, Gura Hu- morului, and Câmpulung in southern Bukovina, with the purpose of restoring order. On the same day, during the Iaşi meeting of the Chambers, Constantin Arion, former minister for foreign affairs, claimed that “the government dies be- cause it took Bukovina. It is the most beautiful end we could have hoped for.”21 In the evening of 6 November, the headquarters of the 8th Division led by General Iacob Zadik were set up in the border town of Burdujeni. On 8 No- vember 1918, officer Aurel Popescul and physician Octavian Gheorghian, as delegates of the Romanian National Council, arrived in Burdujeni and trans- mitted General Iacob Zadik their message, asking him to enter Bukovina and advance towards Chernivtsi as fast as possible. At the same time, General Zadik received orders from the Constantin Coandã Government to head towards the capital of Bukovina.22 In this complicated context, Aurel Onciul, in his quality as self-proclaimed Romanian commissioner, went to Suceava and tried to persuade General Iacob Zadik to not cross the Siret line while going north, in order to prevent armed 24 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) incidents. Aurel Onciul was still convinced that Bukovina, reorganized on the basis of national principles, would remain part of a federal Austria. Given the fact that his attempt to stop the advance of the Romanian Army in Bukovina was not successful, Aurel Onciul went to Iaşi in order to convince the Romanian authorities to stop this military action.23 On 9 November 1918, in Chernivtsi arrived a unit of 180 Romanian soldiers from Lugoj, which had been passing through Bessarabia and decided to come to the aid of the Bukovinian Romanians. They contacted Professor Sextil Puşcariu and offered their military support for the national action. On the same day, a Romanian plane flew over the city of Chernivtsi dropping copies of the Procla­ mation of General Zadik that announced the entry of the Romanian Army in Bukovina. The Ukrainian military units gradually left Chernivtsi and headed towards Galicia, where there were significant clashes between the Poles and the Ukrainians. Thus, already on 9 November, the most important institutions in Chernivtsi were under the control of the Romanian National Council, and Father Gheorghe Şandru became mayor of Bukovina’s capital. On 11 Novem- ber 1918, at noon, the Romanian Army under the command of General Zadik entered Chernivtsi without firing a shot, being welcomed with applause in the city’s central square. On the following days, the units of the Romanian Army crossed the Prut River and took control of the whole territory of Bukovina and also of the northwestern part of Khotyn County, which until then had been under Austrian occupation.

The Activity of the Romanian National Council

n 12 November, the Romanian National Council voted on the tem- porary fundamental law regarding the powers in the province of Bu- O kovina. On the same day, the Government of Bukovina was formed. It was led by Iancu Flondor and consisted of 11 members (Sextil Puşcariu, Dori Popovici, Nicu Flondor, Gheorghe Sârbu, Radu Sbiera, Ipolit Tarnavschi, Max Hacman, Vasile Marcu, Aurel Þurcan, Cornel Tarnovieþchi, and Octavian Gheorghian) who were responsible for various secretariats. On account of their appointment to the government, four personalities from the leadership of the Romanian National Council (Iancu Flondor, Dori Popovici, Sextil Puşcariu, and Radu Sbierea) submitted their resignations. Dionisie Bejan was elected chairman of the Romanian National Council, and Eusebie Popovici, Nicu Vasilovschi, and Vasile Alboi-Şandru were elected vice-chairmen.24 During the 13 November meeting of the Romanian National Council, the government led by Iancu Flondor presented its program for the next period. He Paradigms • 25 briefly referred to the main areas of the government’s activity and promised that a new election law would be prepared. There was the intention to reorganize the and establish a Bukovinian legion. In the field of agriculture, an agrarian reform was meant to provide households with a certain area of land, setting both the maximum and the minimum sizes for these areas. The Govern- ment of Bukovina intended to place the education system on national bases, and there were plans for introducing Romanian as language of instruction in secondary schools.25 During this meeting, there were debates regarding the manner in which Bu- kovina was to be administered and the measures that were going to be taken in the next period. The most passionate discussions referred to the attitude to- wards Ukrainians and the defense of Bukovina’s integrity. Deputy Gheorghe Grigorovici delivered a critical speech in reference to the new government of Bukovina and gave some explanations for the fact that the Romanian deputies to the Austrian Parliament had consented to an agreement with the Ukrainians in respect to the northern part of the province. He considered that the situation was momentarily favorable to the Romanians, but in the future there might be a less advantageous context, in which Romania would be facing its eastern neighbor alone.26 The position of Gheorghe Grigorovici was partially supported by Florea Lupu. Several members of the Romanian National Council subsequently took the floor and criticized Gheorghe Grigorovici’s position. Nicu Flondor, Laurenþie Tomoiagã, Cezar Scalat, Alecu Procopovici, Radu Sbiera, and others favored Bu- kovina’s territorial integrity. They referred to the large number of Romanians living on the left bank of the Dniester River and expressed their pessimism regard- ing a possible agreement with the Ukrainians. They criticized the position of the Romanian deputies to the Austrian Parliament, who wished to negotiate with the Ukrainians and hand over the northwestern part of Bukovina.27 In the following days, the Romanian National Council and the Government of Bukovina took action towards re-establishing public order throughout the entire province and for preparing the union with Romania. On 22 November, approxi- mately 100 Bukovinian refugees, led by teacher Ion Nistor, returned to Chernivtsi coming from Iaşi and Kishinev. On the same day, it was decided that the newspa- per Glasul Bucovinei should appear daily, under the direction of Sextil Puşcariu. The fourth meeting of the Romanian National Council, attended also by Metropolitan Vladimir Repta, took place on 25 November. On that occasion, 50 new members were added to the Romanian National Council, including 12 Bukovinian refugees like Ion Nistor, George Tofan, Filaret Doboş, Aurel Morariu, Teodor Stefanelli, and others.28 On behalf of the Bukovinian refugees, George Tofan expressed the decision in favor of the unconditional union of Bukovina with Romania. 26 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

In its meeting of 25 November, the Romanian National Council supported the government’s proposal referring to the organization of a Bukovina Congress on 28 November. During the same meeting, Radu Sbiera, the government offi- cial responsible for education, made a declaration regarding the schools. He said that the government supported the right of the ethnic communities to develop autonomously in the field of education.29 Ion Candrea and other members of the National Council submitted a request regarding the planned agrarian reform to the government. Iancu Flondor said that the government agreed to assign land to the peasants. During the discussions, all the speakers agreed that there was a need to complete the agrarian reform.

The General Congress of Bukovina (28 November 1918)

n 28 November 1918, the General Congress of Bukovina met in the Synodal Hall of the Metropolitan Residence in Chernivtsi. This event O was attended by 74 members (of the total of 100) of the Romanian National Council, 6 delegates of the Poles, 7 of the Germans, as well as 13 inhabitants of 5 Ukrainian villages. There were also several guests from Bessara- bia (Pantelimon Halippa, , , and ), from Transylvania and Hungary (Gheorghe Crişan, Victor Deleu, and Vasile Osvadã) as well as the representatives of the Romanian Army led by General Iacob Zadik.30 The Congress meeting was opened by Dionisie Bejan, chairman of the Romanian National Council. After a short speech, he suggested that Iancu Flondor be chosen to lead the works of this historic meeting. Radu Sbiera was elected secretary of the Congress. Iancu Flondor read the statement of the Bukovina General Congress, through which “the unconditional and perennial union of Bukovina, in its old boundaries up to the Cheremosh, Colacin (Colaczin) and Dniester Rivers, with the King- dom of Romania” was decided.31 Professor Ion Nistor presented a communiqué about the Austrian rule over Bukovina and asked for the proposed motion to be voted. Statements of support for the union of Bukovina with Romania were pronounced by Stanisław Kwiatkowski (of the Polish delegation) and Professor Alois Lebouton (of the German delegation).32 The motion on the unconditional union of Bukovina with the Kingdom of Romania was adopted unanimously. During the same meeting, there was a proposition for electing a delegation consisting of 15 members of the congress, which was going to present the union motion to the . Iancu Flondor was chosen chairman of the delegation.33 The next day, this delegation arrived in Iaşi and solemnly handed Paradigms • 27 the union document of Bukovina to King Ferdinand and the Romanian Gov- ernment. After this, the Bukovinian delegation travelled in a special train to Bucharest, accompanying the royal family, the Romanian Government, and the military authorities. They were greeted with great pomp in the capital of Roma- nia on 1 December 1918, on the same historical day on which in Alba Iulia the decision for the union of Transylvania with Romania was adopted. The union document of 28 November 1918 was confirmed by the Decree- Law No. 3744/1918, signed on 18 December 1918. At the same time, the Decree-Law No. 3745/1918 for the administration of Bukovina was issued, and Iancu Flondor and Ion Nistor were appointed ministers and secretaries of state without portfolios for Bukovina, the former residing in Chernivtsi and the latter in Bucharest. All these decisions entered into force on 2 January 1919, following their publication in Monitorul Oficial.34

The International Recognition of Bukovina’s Union with Romania

uring 1919, the Romanian authorities made substantial efforts for obtaining the international recognition of the union of Bukovina D and the other Romanian provinces with Romania. At the Paris Peace Conference, the Romanian delegation was led by Prime Minister Ion I. C. Brãtianu. The Romanian delegation contained also two experts for Bukovina (Nicu Flondor for economic and financial issues and Alexandru Vitencu for ethnographic and geographical matters). The Romanian delegation encountered greater difficulties regarding the rec- ognition of the union of Bukovina in its historical boundaries with Romania and concerning the treaty on minorities. On 1 , Ion I. C. Brãtianu asked the Peace Conference Supreme Council to recognize the Dniester River as the natural frontier of Romania in Bukovina and Bessarabia, thus cancelling the provisions of the secret treaty of 4/17 August 1916, according to which Roma- nia’s future frontier in Bukovina was going to be on the Prut River. This point of view was contested, in March 1919, by Hryhorii Sydorenko, a member of the Directorate of Ukraine led by Symon Petliura, who claimed Bukovina’s territory between the Prut and the Dniester Rivers. Later, in May 1919, Sydorenko’s request was limited to a portion of northwestern Bukovina, located in the valley of the Cheremosh River.35 During the works of the Peace Conference, the union of the entire Bukovina with Romania was contested especially by the American delegation. Already on 21 January 1919, the us delegation drew up a document according to which 28 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Bukovina was divided into two main ethnic regions, separated by a line that passed a mile northwest of Chernivtsi, leaving this city to Romania. In the ple- nary session of the Commission for Border Demarcation, on 8 February 1919, the us delegate justified the proposed ethnic border as less difficult than the historical border between Bukovina and Galicia. If this recommendation had been accepted, Romania would have lost in Bukovina a territory that, accord- ing to the census of 1910, was inhabited by 85,000 Ukrainians and only 300 Romanians; there were no specifications on the number of inhabitants of other nationalities.36 The ethnic demarcation of Bukovina was approved by the Supreme Council of the Four Powers on 21 June 1919. Only on 2 July 1919, the Romanian del- egation was informed about the decision taken regarding the Romanian-Polish border in Bukovina. On 4 July 1919, the two experts from Bukovina, Nicu Flondor and Alexandru Vitencu, drew up a memorandum in which they proved with historical and economic arguments that the northwestern part of Bukovina had to be included into Romania. They accepted a frontier correction only in the mountain region of Putila, in the Vizhnits District.37 In the following days, the American delegation changed its position concern- ing the border of Bukovina. The paradox of the situation consisted of the fact that, although the frontier was traced based on ethnic criteria, the northwestern region of Bukovina, with a compact Ukrainian population, was not claimed by . Under these circumstances, even one of the American delegates sug- gested that the basin of the Cheremosh River should be given back to Romania, for economic reasons. Poland was going to receive only a few villages in the far northwest of Bukovina, crossed by the railway connecting the Galician towns of Kolomea and Zalishchyky. A decision in this regard was taken on 1 August 1919, but the Romanian delegation was informed of this decision only after signing the Peace Treaty with Austria.38 On 10 September 1919, in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, the Peace Treaty be- tween Austria and the Allied Countries was signed. Romania refused to sign this treaty because it disagreed with the stipulations of the Minorities Treaty and with the proposed borders. The Peace Conference Supreme Council de- cided, on 12 November 1919, to send an ultimatum to Romania, according to which the country was obliged to sign the two treaties. After a few weeks of intense discussions, the Romanian delegation managed to obtain a few changes in the wording of these two documents, and on 10 December 1919, General Constantin Coandã signed both the Peace Treaty with Austria and the Minori- ties Treaty. Only after signing these treaties, on 18 December, the Romanian delegation was informed about the decision taken regarding the Romanian bor- der in Bukovina. Outside the country’s borders remained five villages in the northwestern part of Bukovina, which were assigned to Poland for economic Paradigms • 29 reasons.39 The definitive border of Bukovina was decided on 26 January 1928, when the five villages were returned to Romania. After the Peace Treaty with Austria was signed, Romania’s Parliament rati- fied this treaty in two consecutive meetings, on 23 and 30 July 1920. The treaty entered into force on 4 September 1920, when the ratification instruments were submitted in Paris.40 Thus, after 144 years of Austrian rule and after almost one year of negotiations during the Paris Peace Conference, the union of Bukovina within its historical boundaries up to the Cheremosh, Colaczin, and Dniester Rivers with Romania was officially recognized. q

Notes

1. Ion I. Nistor, Problema ucraineanã în lumina istoriei, 2nd edition, ed. ªtefan Purici, preface by Gheorghe Buzatu (Rãdãuþi–Bacãu, 1997), 183. 2. Bucharest National Archives, Iancu Flondor coll., inv. 945, file 15, fols. 2–3, 9. 3. For more details on this memorandum, see: Constantin Ungureanu, “Memoriul lui Iancu Flondor, din anul 1915, despre hotarele Bucovinei,” Analele Bucovinei (Bucha- rest) 10, 2 (2003): 493–507. 4. Bucharest National Archives, Microfilme Austria coll., inv. 902, roll 5, package IX, 577–589 (extract from Haus-, Hof- und Staatsarchiv Wien, Politisches Archiv I, Karton 818). 5. Constantin Ungureanu, “Trei variante austriece, din anul 1915, de cedare parþialã a Bucovinei României,” Analele Bucovinei 10, 1 (2003): 149–152. 6. Ion Varta, “Proiecte ruseşti de anexare a Bucovinei în perioada primului rãzboi mon- dial,” Cugetul (Chernivtsi) 2 (1993): 37–39. 7. Pavel Þugui, Bucovina: Istorie şi culturã (Bucharest, 2002), 308. 8. , Bucovina, Transilvania: Unirea 1918, documente adnotate ºi studiu introduc- tiv de prof. dr. Viorica Moisuc (Bucharest, 1996), 329–330. 9. Erich Prokopowitsch, Das Ende der österreichischen Herrschaft in der Bukowina (Mu- nich, 1959), 11–12. 10. Ibid., 29; Radu Economu, Unirea Bucovinei 1918 (Chernivtsi, 2011), 11. 11. Þugui, 297. 12. Prokopowitsch, 30; Economu, 14, 42–43. 13. Prokopowitsch, 30–31; Economu, 14–15. 14. Basarabia, Bucovina, Transilvania, 386. 15. Unirea Basarabiei şi a Bucovinei cu România 1917–1918: Documente, eds. Ion Calafe­ teanu and Viorica Moisuc (Kishinev, 1995), 260. 16. Ibid., 20. 17. Basarabia, Bucovina, Transilvania, 388–390. 18. Economu, 157. 19. Ibid., 25–26. 30 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

20. Þugui, 299; Economu, 27–28, 158–161. 21. Economu, 29. 22. Þugui, 314–315. 23. Economu, 30. 24. Basarabia, Bucovina, Transilvania, 412–413. 25. Ibid., 422–425. 26. Unirea Basarabiei şi a Bucovinei cu România 1917–1918, 290–291. 27. Ibid., 294, 296–297, 299–307. 28. Economu, 156–157. 29. Basarabia, Bucovina, Transilvania, 474. 30. Ion Nistor, Istoria Bucovinei, edited and bibliographical study by Stelian Neagoe (Bucharest, 1991), 394–395. 31. Unirea Basarabiei şi a Bucovinei cu România 1917–1918, 333–335. 32. Economu, 176–177. 33. Ibid., 181–182. 34. Ibid., 57–58, 184–186. 35. Daniel Hrenciuc, “Un capitol din recunoaşterea diplomaticã a Marii Uniri. Prob- lema Bucovinei în cadrul Conferinþei de Pace de la Paris (1919–1920): Contribuþii istorice,” Analele Bucovinei 10, 2 (2003): 441. 36. Economu, 113–114. 37. Ibid., 114–115, 202–203. 38. Hrenciuc, 446; Economu, 116. 39. Economu, 116, 118. 40. Hrenciuc, 448.

Abstract The Union of Bukovina with Romania in 1918

On 27 October 1918, in Chernivtsi, there was a meeting of the representatives of the Bukovinian Romanians that proclaimed itself a Constituent Assembly. At this meeting, “the unification of the whole of Bukovina with the other Romanian provinces into an independent national state” and the work towards this purpose in full solidarity with the Romanians in Transylvania and Hungary were decided. On the same day, 50 members were elected to the Romanian National Council, and an Executive Committee was created; Iancu Flondor was elected as its chairman. On 11 Novem- ber 1918, the Romanian Army entered Chernivtsi and during the following days it took control of the entire territory of Bukovina. On 12 November 1918, the Government of Bukovina led by Iancu Flondor was formed. On 25 November, 50 new members were added to the Romanian National Council, including 12 Bukovinian refugees. On 28 November 1918, the meeting of the General Congress of Bukovina decided on the “unconditional and perennial union of Bukovina within its old borders up to the Cheremosh, Colaczin, and Dniester Rivers with the Kingdom of Romania.” After almost one year of negotiations, the union of Bukovina with Romania was of- ficially recognized during the Paris Peace Conference.

Keywords Bukovina, First World War, Constituent Assembly, Romanian National Council, Bukovina Gov- ernment, General Congress of Bukovina, Paris Peace Conference From the National Assembly in Blaj to the Great National I o a n B o l o v a n S o ri n a P a u l a Assembly in Alba Iulia B o l o v a n Church and Nationality

“My purpose is not that Introduction of calling the Romanians he Romanian historians have to confessional unification, shown the important role T played by the 1848 Revolu- but to a national one.” tion in the destiny of the Transylva- (Simion Bãrnuþiu) nian Romanian nation. They have all stressed its positive consequences for the Romanian nation, from the point of view of the social, economic, politi- cal, religious and cultural factors exist- ing in 1848–1849. Furthermore, some of those historians simply stated—or rather generally ascertained—that the moment of 1848 actually represented the source of inspiration for the Reso- lution of 1 December 1918 adopted in Alba Iulia. When Silviu Dragomir— secretary to the Great National Assem- bly in Alba Iulia, the first great Ro- Ioan Bolovan manian historian from Transylvania Corresponding member of the Romanian who was not contemporary with the Academy, director of George Bariþiu Insti- revolution, but who researched and tute of History, vice-rector of Babeº-Bolyai University, Cluj-Napoca. published information on what had happened in Transylvania in 1848– Sorina Paula Bolovan 1849—analyzed the 1848 Revolution, Associate professor at the Faculty of Psy- he emphasized “the birth of the idea of chology and Educational Sciences, Babeº- political unity of all Romanians amid Bolyai University, Cluj-Napoca. the turmoil of the revolution. This 32 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) idea—timid, at first—became more and more present in the revolutionaries’ political plans and actions as the true face of the policies promoted by the great empires was exposed. The historian also noted that the 1918 union was rooted in the political program and in the battles fought by the Romanians in 1848– 1849. Otherwise said, this desideratum was put forward by the revolutionaries in 1848–1849.”1 Almost all Romanian historians stressed the role played by the Romanians’ Church in the process of national emancipation in the modern era, a role even more evident during the revolution, as well as well as in the preparation of the —nothing unusual if one considers the overwhelming influence of the Church over the masses throughout the entire 20th century. Ion Clopoþel, another exegete of the 1918 events, a historian as well as an active participant in the union, subtly identified the Romanian political lines pursued in Transylvania in the modern era. He clearly placed the Great Union within the long and complex process initiated in the 18th century, which culmi- nated in the 1848 Revolution:

The target of our political efforts has been one and one alone: to fully accomplish the 1848 independence program; therefore, we have our old program of self-determi- nation and self-governance. Educated in the spirit of liberties, endowed—since the time of ªaguna, the great bishop and politician—with religious autonomy, in which the right to vote was exercised, economically strengthened . . ., enlightened by the confessional school in Blaj and by the one given to him by the ªagunian ecclesiastical constitution, informed about his rights as a human being and citizen by his political leaders, the Romanian peasant from Transylvania became a living, long-standing element, protected by the armor provided by the awareness of nation and justice.2

We are going to outline hereinafter some aspects meant to illustrate the role played by the Church in the organization of the two assemblies that were repre- sentative for the Transylvanian Romanians in 1848, as well as in 1918.

Agents and Means of Communication for the Summoning of the Assemblies

or the purposes of this article, it is important to review the agents, the factors, the means of communication of the message concerning the orga- F nization of the national assemblies, as well as the exhortations addressed to the masses encouraging them to participate in large numbers in the assem- blies organized in Blaj and in Alba Iulia with a view to validate the decisions to Paradigms • 33 be taken there. At the middle of the 19th century, after the beginning of the 1848 Revolution, the Transylvanian Romanians only had a few periodicals (Gazeta de Transilvania, Foaie pentru minte, inimã ºi literaturã and Organul luminarei) which published the analyses made by the elite on the state of the Romanian nation in that era, analyzed the revolutionary events within the empire, and communi- cated social and political messages. That is why the transmission of information, the communication between the elites and the masses, and mass mobilization were carried out with great difficulty. Under these circumstances, pupils and students—especially during their Easter holiday in the spring of 1848—were the ones who actually succeeded in spreading the proclamations of the leaders in Sibiu, Blaj or Cluj throughout the Transylvanian territory. The contribution brought by the youth to the revolution—so evident in 1848–18493—remained a constant element throughout the decades after the revolution, the periodical commemorations of the events that took place in Blaj in May 1848—especially on certain commemoration dates—being just as many opportunities to under- line the major role played by the youth in the revolution. The following example is eloquent, as on the front page of the Unirea newspaper in 1898 there was a subtitle referring to the “Role of the Youth”: “The youth of 1848 will always represent the ideal of the future generations. True apostolic work was done by the youth in those times of national revival.”4 Certainly, the Church represented another important channel for the propaga- tion of information on the strategy of the . There are many accounts, not only on the priests who used to read the proclamations of the Ro- manian leaders to their parishioners in church, but who also walked alongside a few peasants to Blaj for the first gathering on the Sunday of Saint Thomas, as well as for the second one held in May.5 Such a situation appears, for example, in the investigation carried out in Dragu (Doboka County) as of 6 May 1848, where the witness Filimon Zdroba, a serf, declared that from the letter read by the priest he had understood that “the day of the Romanians had come, the kingdom of heaven had opened its gates, and that they would be free of the tyrants.”6 In the autumn of 1918, the possibilities for political communication were far more numerous than in 1848. Undoubtedly, in 1918 there were many more newspapers which appeared either daily or every two-three days, or even weekly. According to our estimates, in the autumn of 1918, on the territory of Transyl- vania and Hungary were printed around 20 publications in Romanian, which were disseminated nationally or locally, and which appeared daily, weekly, etc. Furthermore, in the seven decades after the revolution, the number of literate people and of people who had direct access to the content of the publications doubled. According to the 1910 census, the number of literate people in Tran- sylvania (who were able to read and write, according to the census column) was of approximately 823,000 (28.3% of the Transylvanian population), an 34 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) evident increase from 1869 when only 312,000 people had those skills (and they represented 13% of the total number of the population in the province).7 That does not mean that the role of the social “mediators” ceased in 1918, that there were no opinion leaders, including in the rural environment, who disseminated around them, for the illiterate ones, the information concerning the ongoing events and the messages sent by the Romanian elites. The youth (especially pupils and students) remained a dynamic element, due to both their physical availability to travel from one Transylvanian place to another in the month of November of 1918 and their involvement in the organization of councils and national guards in the province. Even if secular- ization had significantly progressed at the beginning of the 20th century, the Church remained one of the fundamental institutions for the Romanians living in Transylvania, an institution which, even in wartime, proved it was able to be alongside the people. From the beginning of the military operations, the Church became involved in the support offered to the families whose men were on the battlefront, reiterating in its sermons some of the articles published in the eccle- siastical press, as well as, under other forms, the need for social solidarity.8 In the summer of 1914, the Orthodox Metropolitan Bishop Ioan Meþianu sent a note with the purpose of stimulating the parishioners’ donations to help the orphans and the families who were unable to support themselves. Consequently, every Sunday, during the religious service, the priests would encourage the people to donate money for the soldiers, but also to help the starving, the ill, the lonely, etc. The metropolitan bishop himself contributed with the amount of 1,000 crowns and expected his example to be followed by as many clergymen as pos- sible. Beyond the financial help, Meþianu used to underline the importance of community service; priests were advised to contact city halls and together with them to draft a money collection plan in each parish.9 The Orthodox and Greek Catholic metropolitan notes constantly reiterated the same message referring to the collection of donations for those suffering because of the war. Afterwards, in 1916, there was an ample campaign initiated by the Romanian elite (both secu- lar and ecclesiastical) for the support of orphans, an idea which was very success- ful in the Romanian society in Transylvania.10 Started by the Orthodox Metro- politan Church in Sibiu, around Christmas time in 1915, the idea of building an orphanage was also embraced, in the summer of 1916, by the (Greek Catholic) Uniate Metropolitan Church in Blaj, both Romanian Churches being actively involved in this demographic and social issue. Despite the declarations of loyalty obtained from the hierarchy of both denominations by the authorities in Buda- pest through blackmail and pressure, the credibility of the Church among the Romanian population remained at high levels. As such, in the autumn of 1918, the Orthodox and the Greek Catholic Churches put themselves at the disposal of the Romanian political leaders with Paradigms • 35 their thousands of priests, deacons, and monks, and became a valuable human resource for mass mobilization. Both metropolitan Churches had their own me- dia outlets (the newspapers Telegraful român and Unirea), just as the bishoprics had their own publications (Biserica ºi ªcoala, Foaia diecezanã, etc.). A significant example for the involvement of the Church in the spreading of messages in sup- port of the national struggle is that, on 8 November 1918, the two churches issued a common communiqué of adhesion to the Romanian Central National Council, in which they unequivocally expressed their support for the leading in- stitution of the Transylvanian Romanians: “We acknowledge the great Roma- nian National Council as the representative political leadership of the Romanian nation in Hungary and Transylvania, feeling entitled and obliged—as faithful sons of our nation—to work together with all our forces for the achievement of our national aspirations.” The text was signed by the Orthodox bishop of Arad, Ioan I. Papp (metro- politan bishop alternate), by the Greek Catholic bishop of Oradea, Demetriu Radu, by the Orthodox bishop Miron Cristea of Caransebeº, by the Greek Cath- olic bishop of Lugoj, Valeriu Traian Frenþiu, as well as by the Greek Catholic bishop of Gherla, Iuliu Hossu.11

The Preliminary Assemblies of 2/14 May 1848 and of 30 November 1918

nother common element of the assemblies held in Blaj in May 1848 and in Alba Iulia in December 1918 was the organization of some pre- A liminary gatherings, some larger, others smaller, in the eve of the two pivotal moments. As it was to be expected, on 1/13 May and especially on 2/14 May, hundreds of thousands of Romanians, especially from the more remote areas of the province, travelled to Blaj. It was mostly the elites that went to Blaj who felt the need for strategic clarifications, for a preliminary assembly. On 2/14 May 1848, on a Sunday, after the religious service, Simion Bãrnuþiu—at that time the main ideologist of the Romanians—presented, for a few hours, in the Blaj cathedral, before roughly two thousand intellectuals, retired officers and non-commissioned officers, craftsmen, merchants, youths, etc. a famous speech entitled “The Romanians and the Hungarians,” a true theoretical and programmatic prologue to the Great National Assembly of 3/15–5/17 May. A new meeting of the elites took place in the afternoon of that day in the same ca- thedral, while in front of it the youth “taught the people, who listened intently, enlivening and comforting words. That day was one of the most beautiful, clear and sunny.”12 The importance of the assembly held on 2 May 1848, especially of 36 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) the first one held in the morning, during which Bãrnuþiu delivered his famous speech, remained imbued in the consciousness of the following generations be- cause it captured the essence of the long history of the Transylvanian Romanians, as well as their main claims, which would be synthesized in the National Peti- tion the following day. It was not accidental that Vasile Goldiº—in his speech delivered in Union Hall, before reading the Union Resolution—also made a historical excursus in which he mentioned Bãrnuþiu’s speech: “S. Bãrnuþiu spoke the truth in his momentous speech delivered in the Blaj Cathedral on the great day of 1848 when he said: If one cannot imagine the cross the Jews had to bear because of the pharaohs, then one should look at the pharaohs in Transylva- nia.”13 Moreover, the speech delivered by Miron Cristea to the crowd gathered on the Romanians’ Plateau in Alba Iulia invoked the example of Bãrnuþiu, who had presented the hardships suffered by the Romanians in Transylvania because of the government in Budapest: “What they have done to us over the past years is intolerable. The injustices we had to bear screamed out for revenge. What hurt badly was mostly the stifling of our Romanian soul and the seizure of our schools, because we have not forgotten the 1848 admonition of the great Bãrnuþ: the more Romanians study in foreign schools, the more sons our na- tions shall lose. Each alienated son was a piece torn from our bodies.”14 Naturally, the Great National Assembly in Alba Iulia had also been antici- pated by reunions of the elites, by preliminary meetings. The inhabitants of Banat who had arrived on the day before the assembly convened a meeting; the social-democrat deputies and the workers’ representatives also held a meeting; the youth had their own reunion; naturally, the political elites had their own meeting (apart from the members of the Romanian Central National Council, it was attended by other leaders of the , the Social- Democratic Party, and intellectuals). There were two such assemblies that made a difference, and they were both held on 30 November 1918. One was that of the political leaders and included two work sessions—one which started in the morning and ended at noon, and the other one which started after lunch and continued until late at night; both meetings were necessary because the talks had been intense on the question of including in the Resolution the is- sue of Transylvania’s autonomy, of the union with or without conditions, etc. The second assembly of 30 November that is worth mentioning and which somehow influenced the leaders’ reunion and the drafting of the Union Resolu- tion was that of the youth who were already present in Alba Iulia. In the after- noon, while the “seniors” were passionately discussing the text of the Resolution draft, thousands of young people, supervised by professors Andrei Bârseanu and Silviu Dragomir, drafted a call backed by thousands of signatures, in which they asked for the unconditional union of Transylvania with Romania. An eyewit- Paradigms • 37 ness, Roman Ciorogariu, the future Orthodox bishop of Oradea, noted that state of mind of the youth: “The youth has become enlivened and their rebellion is passing like an electrical current through the sinking hearts that are beating at the entries to and exits from the prepared council; and there is one phrase that is uttered by everyone: ‘no conditions’.” Then, the representatives of the youth walked in the room where the heated discussions of the “seniors” were at their peak, and they presented their point of view; as such, the youth’s attitude cre- ated a groundswell of opinion for the declaration of the unconditional union.15

The Issue of National and Denominational Unity

The of Unity

ince ‘unity’ is the central topic of our material, in what follows we shall firstly present the way in which the most important people involved in S the events of 1848 and 1918 saw the issue of national unity in connection to denominationalism. Certainly, the two crucial moments in the history of the Romanian nation in Transylvania did not lack in enthusiastic, sincere statements in favor of the restoration of the Romanians’ denominational unity. They have to be taken as such and integrated into the series of events which took place during the 1848 Revolution and in the autumn of 1918. Each of the two as- semblies, from 1848 and 1918 respectively, began with a religious procession. Thus, in May 1848, there was first a religious service, a Mass, held only in the Greek Catholic cathedral, because there was no Orthodox church in the city: “At six o’clock in the morning, in the cathedral started the Holy Mass and, after having invoked the Holy Spirit, Bishop Ioan of Lemeni, together with several canons, priests, and deacons, celebrated the liturgy.” Once the square in front of the cathedral became overcrowded, the mass of people moved to the open fields near Blaj, where the Orthodox Bishop Andrei ªaguna celebrated another Holy Mass for the Emperor, so the Orthodox worshippers present in Blaj in those days were also able to see their bishop celebrate a liturgy that was not different from the one celebrated in the Greek Catholic cathedral.16 The national imperative determined the Romanian elite in Transylvania to pro- mote unity over denominational differences, over personal and institutional pride. After the gathering held in Blaj on the Sunday of Saint Thomas (18/30 April 1848) it was once again emphasized the need to concentrate all national energies. In his synthesis, George Bariþiu confessed that the day after that first assembly in Blaj “Bãrnuþ agreed with Cipariu on the following assembly scheduled for 15 May. Their purpose was to reach a compromise, to leave the past behind, to let 38 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) bygones be bygones; canons and all serious men in Blaj were supposed to agree with the members of the consistory in Sibiu. Similarly, bishops were supposed to agree with one another.”17 It seems that the efforts made by those rational leaders, both Greek Catholic and Orthodox, were successful because the events that took place during the second assembly in Blaj, on 3/15–5/17 May 1848, emphasized the unity between the hierarchs of both denominations, an attitude that was ap- preciated at the time by the participants in the assembly, as well as afterwards. Therefore, on the occasion of the semi-centenary of the Blaj assembly of May 1848, the Unirea newspaper of May 1898 published an ample material dedicated to that moment, and the last subheading of the article was “Uplifting Moments.” The article expressed the admiration of the editorialist of the official publication of the Greek Catholic Metropolitan Church towards the wise attitudes exhibited by the two hierarchs in the spring of 1848: “Quite uplifting was the moment when the two bishops, Lemenyi and ªaguna, embraced each other fraternally in front of the tens of thousands of participants. That embrace sealed once and for all the unity in feelings and the national unity without which a people cannot aspire to a better future. The priests, wearing skoufias or kamilavkas, led this peaceful proces- sion on the plains of freedom, and from the seeds they sowed we would reap the greatness of our nation, if we treasure our church and our nation.”18 A similar assessment on the importance of the unity of feelings over denomi- was given by an important Orthodox political leader, long after the 1848 Revolution. Thus, in the speech delivered in Blaj on 29 August 1911 during the annual reunion of the Society for the Romanian Theatre Fund, Ioan Mihu expressed his admiration for the 1848 generation:

Numerous, great, and dear are the memories connecting us to this part of our Tran- sylvania . . . there is one event I cannot omit because I find it far too important, far too instructive, and because it is dear to all Romanians, from what I understand: the great example of Romanian solidarity that was given to us on that memorable day that will last forever, 3/15 May, when our parents—who understood the de- mands of that time, who put aside any narrow considerations and petty ambitions, and who came here from the valleys and the plains, under the wise leadership of the two sister churches, of the two bishops, ªaguna and Lemenyi, hand in hand, shoul- der to shoulder, in brotherly good cheer—consulted one another and then struggled in order to enact what is now the gospel of our national redemption.19

The events occurred at Alba Iulia on 1 December 1918 unfolded in the same manner. Since in the city there were Greek Catholic and Orthodox parishes, the bishops of the two denominations celebrated the Holy Masses in the two protopresbyterian churches, “after which the endless procession walked towards the field of Michael the Brave’s fortress.”20 In recognition of the role played by Paradigms • 39 the Church in national history, in Union Hall, after the adoption of the Reso- lution, the floor was given to the eldest bishop, the Orthodox one from Arad, who cumulated the duties of alternate metropolitan bishop, as the Metropolitan Bishop had died in autumn. In his speech, the Bishop of Arad, Ioan I. Papp, stressed the spirit of national unity which dominated not only the Romanian elite, but the also the masses:

We are present today, in this great national assembly, in complete numbers, sim- ilarly to the complete number in which we participated in Blaj seven years ago [astra’s jubilee half a century after its establishment] . . . to prove to the world that every time our and literature come into question we are aware of the truth that, just like any other nation, the Romanian nation does not live only through the greater or smaller number of its sons, but lives through its very lan- guage and literature . . . let us celebrate the joyous day when the sun of justice rose for us, embodying our guarantee for a future life as a free and united Romanian nation, entitled to take in its own hands its present and future fate.21

Extremely suggestive for the state of national fraternity and for the symbolism of the image is one of the few photographs we have from Alba Iulia, namely, the one taken on Horea’s Field by the “photographer of the Union,” Samoilã Mârza. The photograph immortalized the moment when the Greek Catholic Bishop Iuliu Hossu, standing at one of the first four tribunes prepared for the announcement of the union to the masses (afterwards, other tribunes were also improvised due to the need of spreading the joyous news of the union to all those present), held a speech and read the Union Resolution to an impressively large crowd; by his side was Miron Cristea, the Orthodox bishop of Caransebeº, who also delivered an ample speech justifying the long journey of the Romanian nation until the moment celebrated in Alba Iulia.

The Issue of the Romanians’ Religious Unification

nother interesting aspect in the 1848 and 1918 nation-denomination equation was the issue of the Romanians’ religious unification. This re- A quest, clearly formulated during the 1848 Revolution, as well as in the autumn of 1918, proves the acuity and sensitivity of the issue, as well as the na- tional vulnerability in the context of the Romanians’ dual denominationalism. Firstly, the issue of the religious unification appears as a result of the youth’s requests from the spring of 1848, debated within small gatherings by Constantin Romanu Vivu, August Treboniu Laurian, Simion Bãrnuþiu, George Bariþiu, and others. At a certain point they also drew up a national program which included the 40 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) request made by a general synod of clergymen and laymen, also demanding that “all Romanians be of only one law: the Romanian one.”22 In the speech delivered on 2 May, Simion Bãrnuþiu also invoked the same topic, outlining the importance of national unification to the detriment of denominational divisions, for the full assertion of the Romanian nation: “My purpose is not that of calling the Roma- nians to confessional unification, but to a national one. If the Romanians maintain this national unification, then, with their combined forces, they will be able to establish national funds, schools, academies, art institutes, scientific societies, and it is through these that the Romanian nation will earn respect and praise through- out the world.”23 The National Petition adopted in Blaj the following day—the official program of the Romanian revolution—was not as radical as the young leaders expected. Thus, the second point of the petition included a rather general and ambiguous reference to the desideratum of religious reunification and to the restoration of the single Romanian Metropolitan Church, which practically was a step back from the accomplishments of the previous weeks.24 The evolution of the revolutionary events in the context of the existing social, political and interethnic tensions made the issue of the religious reunification less important as compared to other, completely different priorities. It was not a priority to have it on the agenda of the Romanian revolutionaries as long as the social, economic, political and national objectives were far more important. In the autumn of 1918, the issue of the religious reunification was once again brought into discussion and was rather a singular initiative which did not gener- ate ample debates among the Romanian elite in Transylvania. Therefore, right before the meeting of 1 December 1918, the political leader from the region of Orãºtie, Ioan Mihu, a representative elected to the Great National Assembly in Alba Iulia, revived the idea of unifying the two denominations of the Roma- nians. On 25 November 1918, he drafted a material called “Un crâmpeiu de gânduri în preajma adunãrii naþionale de la Alba Iulia” (Thoughts in the eve of the national assembly in Alba Iulia), in which he synthesized some of the juridi- cal, administrative and economic problems of the future unified state. Because of his vast juridical, economic and administrative training and experience, he became involved in the plans for a future Romanian society to be implemented after the union: “Finally, from the national point of view, a desideratum would be for the political unification of Romanians in a single state to be made at the same time as the reunification of the Romanian Churches into a single national and autocephalous Church, since disunion, followed by times of misery, was not based on spiritual beliefs and needs, but rather on political and material reasons, which have lost their meaning today.”25 We believe that the rather obvious primacy of the national cause in the days preceding the Great Assembly in Alba Iulia did not help Ioan Mihu mobilize too many comrades for the debate on the Romanian religious reunification. The po- Paradigms • 41 litical maturity exhibited by the Romanian nation in the autumn of 1918 made most of the Transylvanian leaders disregard the possibility of national vulner- ability due to a denominational bivalence. Quite praiseworthy, however, is Ioan Mihu’s sincere and honest attempt to solve a problem which, after the union, risked triggering sterile disputes between Romanians—as it unfortunately hap- pened, and the (Orthodox and Greek Catholic) ecclesiastic media offer enough examples in this regard.

The “Denominational Equilibrium” in Positions between 1848 and 1918

espite certain personal and institutional divergences that appeared in the modern era between the two Romanian denominations, both reli- D gious and secular leaders strove to ensure some sort of equilibrium in what concerned the public visibility, the holding of positions in the Romanian cultural and political movement. Such a responsible behavior can be seen from the 1848 Revolution until the Great Union. As it is already known, during the second national assembly in Blaj held in May 1848 a National Committee was set up—a body meant to coordinate the activity of the Romanian militants and to represent the nation in its relationship with the local authorities and the Viennese ones. The president of the aforementioned committee, elected in Blaj in May 1848, was the Orthodox Bishop Andrei ªaguna, while vice-president became the Greek Catholic Simion Bãrnuþiu (other members were Al. Papiu Ilarian, George Bariþiu, Aron Pumnul, Constantin Romanu Vivu, etc., some of them Orthodox, others Greek Catholic). This symbolism of a balanced representation of the two denominations was also reflected in the Romanian civil society in Transylvania. Over the years, for tactical reasons, the elected presidents of astra (the most important cultural in- stitution of the Romanian Transylvanians until the union) were both Orthodox and Greek Catholic, starting with Bishop—later Metropolitan Bishop—Andrei ªaguna (1861–1867) and continuing with the Greek Catholic Vasile Ladislau Pop (1867–1875), the Orthodox Iacob Bologa (1875–1877), the Greek Catholic Timotei Cipariu (1877–1887), the Greek Catholic George Bariþiu (1888–1893), the Greek Catholic Ioan Micu-Moldovan (1893–1901), the Orthodox Alexandru Mocioni (1901–1904), the Greek Catholic Iosif Sterca-ªuluþiu (1904–1911), and the Orthodox Andrei Bârseanu (1911–1922). The same alternation was ap- plied in the case of the vice-president, i.e. if the president was Orthodox, then the vice-president was Uniate. In 1905, rightfully stated that “from the very beginning, the Association belonged to ªaguna, to ªuluþiu, to the inhabit- 42 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) ants of Blaj, to the inhabitants of Sibiu, to the Uniates and to the non-Uniates at the same time. And this is its most precious leadership feature.”26 The statement was a clear recognition of the fact that the national idea had defeated denomina- tionalism, confirming what Simion Bãrnuþiu had asked of the Romanians in his speech delivered in Blaj cathedral on 2/14 May 1848, in which he had advocated for national unification to the detriment of denominational divisions. The leaders in Arad copied astra’s model for the first general assembly for the establishment of the Arad National Association for the Culture of the Romanian People, held in the spring of 1863. Therefore, the Orthodox Bishop of Arad, Procopie Ivacicovici (Prokopije Ivačković), was elected president of the Arad National Association, while its vice-president became the Greek Catholic canon from Lugoj, Mihail Naghi. The national character of those cultural institutions was also understood and perceived as such by the contemporaries. Since they did not participate in the general assembly for the establishment of the Arad National Association held on 30 April 1863, a group of Romanian leaders from Zarand sent a congratula- tory letter to the association, which included the same ideas of national and social solidarity: “This new association belongs neither to the Uniates nor to the non- Uniates, neither to the aristocrats nor to the democrats, but to all Romanians, irrespective of social class.”27 Consequently, it is not a coincidence that in the autumn of 1918 that de- nominational equilibrium functioned in what concerned the public area. Thus, of the six members of the Romanian Central National Committee (who had been elected from among the most important members of the Romanian Na- tional Party), a national political body that governed Transylvania until the Great National Assembly held in Alba Iulia on 1 December 1918, three were Orthodox (Vasile Goldiº, Aurel Vlad, Aurel Lazãr), and the other three were Greek Catholic (Teodor Mihali, ªtefan Cicio Pop, Alexandru Vaida-Voievod). Remarkable was also the preservation of that symbolism in the structure of the delegation who was to present the Union Resolution to King Ferdinand. Thus, at the beginning of December, two bishops (the Orthodox Miron Cristea and the Greek Catholic Iuliu Hossu) and two laymen (an Orthodox, Vasile Goldiº, and a Greek Catholic, Alexandru Vaida-Voievod) travelled to Bucharest. After- wards, the number of delegation members increased, but what is important is the fact that after the union, when the decision to send the delegation to Bucha- rest was made, the composition was strictly balanced from the denominational point of view. At this stage of the research it is difficult say for sure whether that was deliberate or not. We believe it was rather the result of many decades of well-balanced management of public office-holders within the Romanian nation in Transylvania, an example of maturity and responsibility given by the Roma- nian political elites in the province. q Paradigms • 43

Notes

1. Sorin ªipoº, Silviu Dragomir–istoric, 3rd edition, preface by Ioan-Aurel Pop (Deva: Ed. Episcopiei Devei ºi Hunedoarei, 2018), 410. 2. Ion Clopoþel, Revoluþia din 1918 ºi Unirea Ardealului cu România (Cluj: Ed. revistei Societatea de Mâine, 1926), 169–170. 3. Bogdan Alin Florea, “Tineri români ardeleni în revoluþia de la 1848–’49 (o listã pub- licatã de Silviu Dragomir),” Buletinul Cercurilor ªtiinþifice Studenþeºti (Alba Iulia) 10 (2004): 119–122. 4. Unirea (Blaj) 8, 19 (1898). 5. See Mircea Pãcurariu, Revoluþia româneascã din Transilvania şi Banat din anii 1848– 1849: Contribuþia Bisericii (Sibiu: Ed. Arhiepiscopiei, 1995); Revoluþia transilvanã de la 1848–1849: Date, realitãþi ºi fapte reflectate în documente bisericeºti ortodoxe 1848– 1850, ed. Dumitru Suciu (Bucharest: asab, 2011). 6. Documente privind revoluþia de la 1848 în Þãrile Române. C. Transilvania, vol. 3 (30 aprilie–14 mai 1848), ed. ªtefan Pascu (Bucharest: Ed. Academiei, 1982), 343. 7. Ioan Bolovan, Transilvania între Revoluþia de la 1848 şi Unirea din 1918: Contribuþii demografice (Cluj-Napoca: Fundaþia Culturalã Românã, Centrul de Studii Transil- vane, 2000), 235. 8. See the article “Vãduve şi orfani” published in the Unirea newspaper 27, 71 (No- vember 1917): 24. 9. Florin Bengean, Filantropie ºi asistenþã socialã în activitatea Bisericii Ortodoxe Române din Transilvania în perioada 1868–1918 (Târgu-Mureº: , 2009), 252 sq. 10. Daniela Mârza, “Demografie şi asistenþã socialã în Transilvania (1916–1918): înfiin­ þarea orfelinatelor destinate orfanilor de rãzboi,” in Mişcãri de populaþie şi probleme demografice în România în prima jumãtate a secolului XX: Lucrãrile conferinþei inter- naþionale “Miºcãri de populaþie în Transilvania în timpul celor douã rãzboaie mondiale,” Cluj-Napoca, 24–27 mai 2006, eds. Sorina Paula Bolovan, Ioan Bolovan, Rudolf Gräf, and Corneliu Pãdurean (Cluj: Presa Universitarã Clujeanã, 2007), 93. 11. Clopoþel, 74. 12. George Bariþ, Pãrþi alese din istoria Transilvaniei pe douã sute de ani în urmã, 2nd edi- tion, edited, notes, commentaries and index by Academician ªtefan Pascu and Pro- fessor Florin Salvan, Ph.D., vol. 2 (Braºov: Inspectoratul pentru Culturã al Judeþului Braºov, 1994), 184. 13. Z. Sandu, Mãreaþa adunare de la Alba Iulia unde s-a hotãrât unirea Ardealului, Bãnat- ului, Criºanei ºi Maramurãºului cu România-mamã (Sãliºte: Ed. Librãria Sãteanului, n.d.), 29–30. 14. Ibid., 47. The entire speech was recently reproduced in the book Marea Unire de la Alba Iulia 1 Decembrie 1918, printed with the blessing of His Eminence Father Irineu (Alba Iulia: Reîntregirea, 2018), 86–92. 15. ªtefan Pascu, Fãurirea statului naþional unitar român, vol. 2 (Bucharest: Ed. Acad- emiei, 1983), 181–182. 16. Documente privind revoluþia de la 1848 în Þãrile Române. C. Transilvania, vol. 4 (14–25 mai 1848), ed. ªtefan Pascu (Bucharest: Ed. Academiei, 1988), 37–38. 44 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

17. Bariþ, 179. 18. Unirea 8, 19 (1898): 147. 19. Dr. Ioan Mihu, Spicuiri din gândurile mele politice, culturale, economice, publicate cu un studiu biografic de Silviu Dragomir, membru al Academiei Române (Sibiu: Tipografia Arhidiecezanã, 1938), 389. 20. Clopoþel, 119. 21. Ibid., 126–127. 22. Nicolae Bocºan, Ioan Lumperdean, and Ioan-Aurel Pop, Etnie ºi confesiune în Transilvania­ (secolele XIII–XIX) (Oradea: Cele Trei Criºuri, 1994), 143–144. 23. Cornelia Bodea, 1848 la români: O istorie în date şi mãrturii, vol. 1 (Bucharest: Ed. ªtiin­ þificã ºi Enciclopedicã, 1982), 479 sq. 24. Bocºan, Lumperdean, and Pop, 145. 25. Mihu, 369. 26. Apud Ioan Lupaº, “Înfiinþarea Asociaþiunii ºi conducãtorii ei,” Transilvania (Braºov) 42, 4 (July–August 1911): 332 sq. 27. Division of the National Archives, Fond astra–despãrþãmântul cul- tural al judeþului Arad, file 6 (1863), 28 sqq. The same idea was expressed by Vasile Goldiş, during the general assembly of the National Association in Arad in 1910: “All Romanians . . . who love Romanian culture can meet here [at the Arad Asso- ciation]. The Association is not a denominational institution. Its members can be all Romanians irrespective of their social class, from a bishop to a serf.” Cf. Tribuna (Arad) 14, 1 (1910).

Abstract From the National Assembly in Blaj to the Great National Assembly in Alba Iulia: Church and Nationality

The article discusses the role played by the Church in the organization of the two assemblies that were representative for the Transylvanian Romanians, in 1848 (Blaj) and 1918 (Alba Iulia). It provides an overview of the agents, the existing circumstances, the means of communication of the message concerning the organization of the national assemblies, as well as of the exhorta- tions addressed to the masses encouraging them to participate in large numbers in the assemblies organized in Blaj and in Alba Iulia with a view to validate the decisions to be taken there. Also discussed is the manner in which the most important people involved in the events of 1848 and 1918 saw the issue of national unity in connection to that of religious affiliation, and the attempts to ensure a balanced representation of the two Romanian denominations (Orthodox and Greek Catholic) in those crucial moments.

Keywords Transylvania, Revolution of 1848, Great Union of 1918, Orthodox Church, Greek profile

M a rt a P e tr e u L’héritage de Maiorescu

Ses instruments d’action et leur importance pour la culture roumaine

un des disciples de (1840-1917) de deu-­ L’xième génération, le philo- sophe Ion Petrovici (1882-1972), sou- lignait le fait que Maiorescu avait été un esprit applicatif, un « praticien ».1 En effet, tout comme lorsqu’on invente un nouveau produit industriel on projette non seulement le produit, mais aussi les instruments, c’est-à-dire les outils sans lesquels celui-ci ne peut être réalisé, Maiorescu et avec lui les membres de la société culturelle (La Jeunesse) ont eu l’intuition et la capacité d’inven- Titu Maiorescu ter les instruments par lesquels on peut (1840–1917) créer non seulement une culture mo- derne, mais aussi la culture même. Dans son action et dans celle de Junimea, dif- ficilement dissociables à partir d’un cer- Marta Petreu tain moment, Maiorescu a utilisé une Professeur à la Faculté d’Histoire et Philo­ série d’instruments, de leviers culturels, sophie de l’Université Babeº-Bolyai de Cluj-Napoca, écrivain, rédacteur-en-chef créés par lui et par Junimea, qui leur de la revue . Auteur, entre autres, ont assuré une audience plus large que du vol. De la Junimea la Noica. Studii de ne pouvaient le faire, pour Maiorescu culturã româneascã (De Junimea à Noica. en l’occurrence, seulement les cours de Études de culture roumaine) (2011). l’Université de Jassy ; concrètement, lui 46 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) et les membres de Junimea se sont créé les moyens de faire sortir la philosophie et généralement la haute culture de l’université et de les mettre à la portée d’un public extra-universitaire, mais intéressé. « Les conférences populaires », la série de conférences pour le beau monde cultivé de Jassy, inaugurées par Maiorescu dès l’hiver-printemps de 1863, ont été le premier levier ; déroulées selon un rituel rigoureux, solennel, qu’il avait en- tièrement créé, celles-ci ont été si bien liées dès le début à son nom que, lorsque Iacob Negruzzi a proposé à Vasile Pogor, l’automne de la même année, de faire ensemble « une série de conférences publiques », il a été refusé brièvement et froidement : « C’est à Maiorescu de le faire ».2 L’instrument suivant a été le cénacle, c’est-à-dire Junimea elle-même, avec ses rencontres de vendredi soir et son cérémonial, tantôt rigide – par exemple, avec l’interdiction que le poète lise lui-même ses productions et, encore plus, avec l’interdiction que l’auteur les explique au niveau de compréhension de tout le monde ou qu’il les défende contre les éventuelles ironies –, tantôt suspendu pour de bon, par la règle que l’anecdote a la primauté ; parce que, selon G. Panu, « Junimea était une société sans aucune discipline ».3 Et ceci ne pouvait pas en être autrement, car dans ce club de jeunes sélecte et à la fois ouvert (« entre qui veut, reste qui peut »), les manières étaient à la mesure du nom. E. Lovinescu4, qui a eu l’idée ingénieuse de calculer les rapports d’âge entre Maiorescu – dont l’autorité était reconnue de manière absolue y compris par le détail significatif qu’il était resté le seul sans sobriquet, étant appelé « Monsieur Maiorescu » – et les autres membres de Junimea ou invités de marque du cénacle, a constaté que celui-ci était plus jeune que trois des fondateurs du cénacle (de 7 ans par rapport à V. Pogor, de 3 ans par rapport à T. Rosetti et P. P. Carp) et plus âgé de deux ans que Iacob Negruzzi ; de même, comparé à 24 des membres de la première phase de Junimea, il était plus jeune que 8 d’entre eux, du même âge que 5 d’entre eux et plus âgé que 11 d’entre eux… Mais le levier le plus efficace pour faire augmenter l’influence de Junimea et pour imposer son nouveau canon culturel et ensuite esthétique a été la revue Convorbiri literare (Conversations littéraires), pour laquelle la société avait sa propre typographie. Créée le premier mars 1867, avec un tirage initial de 300 exemplaires, la revue est la preuve brillante de la manière dont on peut générer une nouvelle culture, de la production auctoriale à un nouveau goût littéraire, à l’aide d’un « rien » telle une publication littéraire. Il convient d’ajouter sans aucune hésitation à ces instruments le banquet an- nuel de Junimea auquel on participait sur invitation et qui était un instrument de renforcement du prestige public du groupe. Et, après que les membres de Junimea et Maiorescu lui-même sont entrés dans la vie politique, les leviers politiques existants ont été utilisés pour mettre Profile • 47 en pratique le projet culturel et politique de Junimea. Car, comme le rappelle Maiorescu à P. P. Carp dans une lettre d’avril 1870, la raison d’être de Junimea, « précisément la plus importante », consiste en ce que la société « doit présenter au pays cette œuvre unitaire de réformes ».5 Et « la nouvelle direction » pré- voyait, selon le mentor de Junimea, une culture caractérisée « par le sentiment naturel, par la vérité, par la compréhension des idées que toute l’humanité doit à la civilisation occidentale et à la fois par le fait de garder et d’accentuer l’élément national »6, synthétise-t-il dans l’étude « Direcþia nouã în poezia ºi proza româ- nã » (La nouvelle direction dans la poésie et la prose roumaines) (1872). Par conséquent, Maiorescu a envoyé des jeunes en Occident pour qu’ils y étudient et, au fur et à mesure qu’ils en sont rentrés avec les études et les doctorats (plus ou moins) achevés, il les a placés dans des universités, assurant de cette manière aussi, non seulement par son cours, la synchronisation de l’enseignement et en général de la culture roumaine avec l’enseignement et la culture occidentale ; car, comme le dit Cioran, la grande bénédiction du monde social consiste en ce qu’il n’est pas nature et que, par conséquent, un pays peut sauter ou « brûler » les étapes. Plus d’un siècle après la mort de Maiorescu et deux fois après que, quoique pour des raisons tout à fait différentes, sa valeur et son importance ont été sé- rieusement mises en doute – une fois, dans les années ’30, par l’extrême droite roumaine, lorsque par exemple beaucoup (pas tous) de membres de la géné- ration ’27 avaient rejeté son esprit rationaliste et critique ; la seconde fois, aux débuts du socialisme réel roumain, lorsque l’extrême gauche au pouvoir a inter- dit son nom et son œuvre – on voit très clairement l’importance fondatrice de Maiorescu et de Junimea. Le considérant comme « le grand organisateur de notre culture » moderne jusqu’alors « non encore cimentée »7, Ion Petrovici, son ancien étudiant, a énoncé une vérité aujourd’hui évidente : nous sommes dans une très grande mesure, avec la structure de notre culture, avec les bonnes et les mauvaises choses de notre culture, les héritiers de l’action de Maiorescu et de Junimea, action qui a donné les grandes lignes d’organisation et d’évolution de la culture roumaine. En philosophie, pour laquelle il s’est initialement préparé, Maiorescu n’a pas donné sa mesure car, au lieu d’écrire une œuvre strictement philosophique pour laquelle il n’aurait pas eu de lecteurs, heureusement pour notre culture, il a détourné ses énergies créatrices vers ce dont elle manquait. Au lieu d’écrire un ouvrage, très en accord avec la tendance de l’époque, sur la psychologie des peuples et sur les mécanismes d’individuation des nations, pour lesquels il avait un intérêt profond8, il a établi les critères d’« écriture de la langue roumaine » ; et, par conséquent, nous écrivons en suivant sa pensée. Néanmoins, en philo- sophie aussi, il a laissé des traces indélébiles. Il s’agit, premièrement, du manuel 48 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) de Logique, qu’il a amélioré à chaque nouvelle édition et qui a été utilisé dans l’enseignement de la Petite Roumanie, aussi bien à l’université que dans l’école secondaire, jusque immédiatement après la Première Guerre mondiale. Ensuite, c’est toujours à lui que l’on doit le fait que le milieu philosophique – et culturel – roumain s’est imprégné de la philosophie schopenhauerienne car, après avoir découvert en 1862 le philosophe allemand, il l’a introduit petit à petit dans notre culture. Le considérant comme « un génie absolument incomparable », Maiorescu a traduit ses Aphorismes sur la sagesse dans la vie ; sa traduction, dans une très belle langue roumaine pas encore vieillie, lue et discutée chez Junimea, publiée en série dans Convorbiri literare et en 1890 en volume, a été un succès – la preuve étant ses quatre rééditions avant la Première Guerre mondiale. Par ailleurs, la passion de Maiorescu pour Schopenhauer a fait des adeptes et a été utile… à la culture française, car son ami I. A. Cantacuzino (J. A. Cantacuzène), surnommé « Zizin » s’est mis à traduire Schopenhauer – en français. De sorte que l’on peut se réjouir de ce que l’admiration de Maiorescu pour « l’homme du siècle » se soit matérialisée, finalement, par la médiation du « prince Zizin », en un luxueux cadeau fait à la culture française : quatre livres de Schopenhauer, y compris Le monde comme volonté et comme représentation (traduit d’ailleurs pour la première fois en français…). Chez nous, l’influence de Schopenhauer sur la culture roumaine – déclenchée, je le répète, par l’action de Maiorescu9, et que nous ne devons consigner ni comme un mérite, ni comme un manque, mais tout simplement comme un fait de culture – s’est étendue jusqu’aux environs de la Seconde Guerre mondiale (une preuve évidente en est la philosophie lyrique roumaine de Cioran). C’est toujours parmi les mérites philosophiques de Maiorescu que nous de- vons enregistrer son esthétique – d’essence kantienne, plus précisément un Kant filtré par Schopenhauer – le criticisme de Maiorescu réussissant à imposer dans le milieu roumain le critère de réception et d’évaluation purement esthétique, à la place de celui utilitaire-patriotique. Mais sa contribution philosophique la plus importante, vive et utilisée de nos jours encore pour diagnostiquer des pathologies du milieu socio-humain, est la théorie des formes sans fond. Cette théorie est une contribution appartenant à la philosophie de l’histoire et de la culture, à l’aide de laquelle nous pouvons inter- préter non seulement notre propre histoire, mais aussi de grands phénomènes de l’histoire universelle. Profile • 49

La théorie de Maiorescu sur les formes sans fond

la fin du XIXe siècle et au début du XXe siècle, la théorie des formes sans fond et du conflit forme-fond a eu une très large circulation, étant À acceptée inclusivement par des philosophes socio-démocrates de nuance marxiste comme Constantin Dobrogeanu-Gherea (par exemple, dans Le Néo-ser- vage…).10 La large acceptation dont elle a joui, y compris dans les milieux diffé- rents ou même adversaires de Junimea, s’explique précisément par le fait qu’elle était un instrument théorique fonctionnel et qu’elle surprenait un état de fait. Maiorescu a exposé sa théorie sur les formes sans fond en 1868, dans l’article « În contra direcþiei de astãzi în cultura românã » (Contre la direction d’au- jourd’hui dans la culture roumaine)11 et l’a complétée quatre ans plus tard, en 1872, par « Direcþia nouã în poezie ºi prozã românã ». Toute la théorie sur la société, sortie de l’alambic de Junimea, serait, selon E. Lovinescu12, la création de P. P. Carp, mais, vu l’éclat de Maiorescu, elle serait restée dans l’histoire de notre culture comme la création intellectuelle de ce dernier. L’idée même avait été préfigurée, mais non pas conceptualisée, par les intellectuels roumains du XIXe siècle, de Gh. Asachi à M. Kogãlniceanu13, qui avaient essayé de nommer les traumas parus chez nous à mesure que, empruntant des modalités d’organi- sation occidentales, le monde roumain s’est trouvé lésé et incommodé par les vêtements trop serrés dont il était habillé. Les termes, inspirés ou même empruntés probablement par Maiorescu à l’esthétique antique hellène, qui dit que l’objet d’art a une forme et de la matière (ou contenu), ont été transformés insensiblement en concepts de philosophie de l’histoire et de la culture. Maiorescu a introduit ces termes dans l’article « Contre la direction d’aujourd’hui… », qui est, malheureusement, un article de réac- tion polémique, et non expositif, qui suivrait la simple clarification de ses idées concernant l’état de la culture et de la société roumaines. Le mentor de Junimea dit que la société roumaine a vécu jusqu’au début du XIXe siècle dans « la barbarie orientale ». Ensuite, les jeunes qui avaient étudié en Occident ont apporté dans le pays « une partie de l’éclat des sociétés étrangères », mais « seulement l’éclat extérieur » de celles-ci, « les formes superficielles de la civilisation », et non « ses fondements historiques plus profonds ». La première formulation est donc « les formes superficielles » sans « les fondements plus profonds » de la civilisation. Quelques pages après, Maiorescu reformule : « les formes vaines » sans « le fond solide », ou « des prétentions sans fondement » et ensuite il arrive à la formule mémorable : « formes sans fond ». Il donne des exemples de formes vaines : des journaux politiques avant le par- ti politique, des revues littéraires avant le public lecteur, des écoles rurales avant les instituteurs villageois, des lycées et universités avant des professeurs capables, 50 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) des athénées et associations de culture avant d’avoir une culture, une société aca- démique roumaine avant la recherche scientifique, un conservateur de musique avant d’avoir des artistes, etc. Les exemples appartiennent au domaine politique et culturel, c’est-à-dire à la zone où avait commencé le phénomène d’imitation de l’Occident. Après ces illustrations (dont certaines sont douteuses), l’auteur donne aussi un exemple important du domaine de la politique : « nous avons même une constitution », dit-il, sans d’ailleurs trop réfléchir, car avant la Consti- tution de 1866 il y avait eu dans les Principautés des réglementations juridiques globales qui avaient accompli le rôle que la Constitution allait jouer dans les nouvelles circonstances historiques de la Roumanie. Dénonçant la manière dont ces « prétentions sans fondement » étaient nées c’est-à-dire par notre imitation de l’Occident, et donnant des exemples concrets de « formes sans fond », l’organiciste Maiorescu dit en réalité assez clairement ce que signifient les formes sans fond : des modalités d’organisation, c’est-à-dire des institutions – mais des institutions sans fond, c’est-à-dire sans les réflexes de comportement ni les accumulations matérielles pour le domaine de réalité sociale qu’elles organisent. Il dit, en fait, que nous avons des « formes » européennes, c’est-à-dire des modalités européennes d’organiser des domaines de la vie sociale, mais nous n’avons ni cette vie ni cette réalité sociale à organiser, nous n’avons pas « la ma- tière » européenne pour ces formes. Les formes sans fond signifient en fait des formes européennes sans fond européen, c’est-à-dire des formes européennes apportées chez nous et assorties au fond roumain, autochtone. Maiorescu comprime et décrit laconiquement dans certaines de ses pages polémiques un processus historique qui s’est déroulé dans le temps. 1. La Roumanie, comme le dit Maiorescu, a été une « barbarie orientale ». « Orientale » – car les Principautés, ensuite la Roumanie, jusqu’à la fin du XIXe siècle et le commencement du XXe siècle, étaient considérées comme faisant par- tie de l’Orient, auquel elles ont appartenu, également du point de vue politique ; il n’est pas agréable pour nous, qui nous nous revendiquons comme des Euro- péens de naissance, de découvrir que pour l’Europe de l’Ouest nous avons été des Orientaux ou une zone imprécise hors de l’histoire ; mais en fait c’est ainsi que nous avons été considérés. Le terme « barbarie » qu’utilise Maiorescu appartient à la période eurocentriste de la philosophie universelle et représente le point de vue des Européens (de Hegel, par exemple) sur les zones géographiques et sur les populations qui ont connu une évolution différente de celle occidentale-eu- ropéenne ; c’est donc le point de vue européocentriste sur l’altérité historique. Personne n’est si naïf de s’imaginer que les Principautés roumaines, avant le contact avec l’Europe, ont été « barbares », c’est-à-dire totalement dépourvues d’institutions et de la substance de ces institutions. Du point de vue anthropo- Profile • 51 logique, là où il y a une société humaine, il y a aussi les institutions qui régle- mentent la vie de la collectivité et la substance ou la matière de la vie sociale. Sauf que ces institutions et leur substance n’entraient pas, jusqu’au milieu ou même la fin du XIXe siècle, dans le « canon » historique et culturel de l’Europe de l’Ouest. Si nous traduisons cette formule, « barbarie orientale », dans des concepts créés selon le style de Maiorescu, alors, jusqu’au début du XIXe siècle, nous avons eu des formes roumaines ou autochtones (des institutions roumaines) avec un fond roumain ou autochtone (avec des réalités roumaines), et, bien sûr, une culture ; une culture mineure, surtout populaire, si je dois utiliser de manière descriptive les concepts de Lucian Blaga et de Oswald Spengler. Pour diagnostiquer l’état de la société roumaine avant le contact avec l’Europe occidentale, Maiorescu a utilisé à la hâte le syntagme « barbarie occidentale », syntagme qui représente le point de vue de la philosophie eurocentriste du début et du milieu du XIXe siècle. 2. Ensuite, à cause de l’imitation des institutions occidentales, on est arrivé à l’état que dénonce Maiorescu, c’est-à-dire à des formes (européennes) sans fond (européen), ce qui signifie des formes (européennes) avec un fond (roumain ou autochtone). Maiorescu insiste sur les formes sans fond du domaine de la culture, laissant au deuxième plan les autres domaines de vie collective (social, juridique, poli- tique, etc.). Mais sa démarche, tâtonnante et dépourvue d’exactitude (n’oublions pas que Maiorescu était un jeune homme de seulement 28 ans et qu’il écrivait un simple article polémique !) atteint, au moins de temps en temps, le domaine socio-politique aussi. Et dans « La nouvelle direction dans la poésie et la prose roumaines », porté par la logique interne de sa philosophie de la culture et de l’histoire, synthétisée par la formule « formes sans fond », il met pour de bon, de manière rhétorique, une question assez inappropriée14, selon l’opinion de Panu, concernant l’État roumain (c’est-à-dire l’institution politique qui com- prend toutes les autres, quelle que soit leur nature) : « Est-ce que la Roumanie aura un avenir ? » Maiorescu diagnostique la conséquence la plus grave de l’introduction des formes européennes chez nous : « un abîme » s’est créé entre « la classe d’en haut » et « le peuple d’en bas » ou les paysans. Et cette observation lui permet de tirer la conclusion, sévère : « La forme sans fond […] est tout à fait nuisible. » Les formes (européennes) sans fond (européen, mais avec un fond autoch- tone) représentant un danger, Maiorescu a créé des remèdes. Comme ses com- mentateurs l’ont observé, il n’a pas demandé l’élimination des institutions de type occidental créées chez nous, il n’a pas recommandé la destruction des « formes » et le retour au passé (« Car il est impossible de faire marche arrière », écrivait- il), mais, au contraire, il a soutenu qu’il fallait arriver à la concordance entre les formes et le fond. 52 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

3. De sorte que le philosophe de la culture formule comme solution globale : « nous, en l’an 1868, demandons un fond pour ces formes ». Pratiquement, le théoricien demande que l’on arrive chez nous aussi à des formes (européennes) avec un fond (européen). Et pour atteindre ce but, il recommande, il le faisait déjà dans l’article « Contre la direction d’aujourd’hui dans la culture roumaine », que la jeunesse « éveille la volonté de mettre un vrai fondement là où aujourd’hui il n’y a que des préten- tions illusoires ».15 Cette recommandation, d’élever le fond autochtone de sorte qu’il corres- ponde à la hauteur des formes apportées d’Europe (que nous pouvons refor- muler de cette manière : cette recommandation d’occidentalisation du peuple roumain, de celui de la Petite Roumanie, jusqu’à ce moment-là « oriental », car la Transylvanie appartenait à une autre histoire, central-européenne) est répétée en 1872 aussi, dans l’article « La nouvelle direction dans la poésie et la prose roumaines » :

Tout ce qui est aujourd’hui forme vide dans notre mouvement public doit être transformé en une réalité sentie et, parce que nous avons introduit un degré trop haut de la vie extérieure des États européens, nous devons, par toutes nos forces, faire élever notre peuple jusqu’à la compréhension de ce degré et d’une organisation poli- tique qui lui soit appropriée. Pour cela, premièrement, une culture solide des classes d’en haut, d’où part le mouvement intellectuel, est nécessaire. […] Et parce qu’il est impossible de faire marche arrière, il ne nous reste pour notre existence nationale d’autre alternative que de demander à nos classes cultivées autant de conscience qu’elles doivent avoir et autant de science qu’elles peuvent avoir.16

Entre temps, Maiorescu lui-même avait modifié sensiblement son opinion sur les formes d’importation ; dans une note de journal de 1870, il reconnaît que celles-ci (concrètement : la Constitution), une fois introduites dans la société roumaine, obligent « le peuple à réfléchir » et représentent « une école d’exer- cice pour le peuple ».17 En d’autres mots, Maiorescu observe le rôle éducatif des formes, le fait qu’elles exercent, « avec le temps », la fonction de créer un fond, qu’elles attirent, comme l’aimant attire la limaille de fer, le fond. J’observerais encore que Maiorescu, en faisant appel à la classe d’en haut, à laquelle il demande de s’impliquer, à la mesure de sa culture et de sa conscience morale, pour résoudre le problème, y compris pour annuler l’abîme qui s’était creusé entre la classe d’en haut et le peuple d’en bas, pense comme un homme d’État. Son affirmation suivante, « il ne nous reste pour notre existence nationale d’autre alternative que de demander à nos classes cultivées autant de conscience qu’elles doivent avoir et autant de science qu’elles peuvent avoir », est un impé- Profile • 53 ratif éthico-politique. Un impératif réaliste et donc sans illusions du point de vue anthropologique et gnoséologique, car Maiorescu demande aux classes d’en haut seulement autant de science qu’elles peuvent avoir ; mais aussi un impératif catégo- rique du point de vue moral, car il demande autant de conscience qu’elles doivent avoir. La théorie des formes sans fond a été largement acceptée par l’intelligentsia roumaine. En fait, elle peut être utilisée et est même utilisée spontanément au- jourd’hui encore, pour mesurer, maintenant, à la rencontre, après un demi-siècle de pause à laquelle nous avons été contraints, avec l’Occident, notre adapta- tion, réadaptation et non adaptation en tant que pays aux critères ou aux formes occidentales. De même, en observant les grandes secousses du monde contem- porain, des pays de l’Afrique, de l’Amérique du Sud, de l’Asie, c’est-à-dire des anciennes colonies de certains pays européens, il n’est pas illégitime de se deman- der en quelle mesure les contorsions historiques actuelles sont ou ne sont pas un décompte historique des anciennes colonies envers leurs anciennes métropoles, qui leur ont imposé, pendant quelques siècles, des formes européennes, avec une intention civilisatrice, malgré leur fond de culture et de civilisation qui n’avait rien à faire avec celles-ci. Le heurt entre les philosophes roumains de la culture et de l’histoire ne s’est pas produit quant à l’existence ou à la non existence des formes sans fond, car la présence de celles-ci était évidente et reconnue sans hési- tations, mais seulement quant aux conséquences pratiques, de politique sociale, administrative, culturelle, etc. qui résultent de leur existence. Ou plus simple- ment, le heurt entre les théoriciens ne s’est pas produit quant au diagnostic, mais quant au traitement qu’il convient d’appliquer.

Les générations des disciples de Maiorescu

a ligne de pensée de Maiorescu et de Junimea – il est difficile, je le répète, de discerner avec exactitude ce qui appartient strictement à Maiorescu et ce qui a été créé dans le laboratoire culturel de Junimea – a gagné, au Le XIX siècle, la bataille avec une série de phénomènes pathologiques de la culture roumaine, formes de culture déstructurées par le contact violent avec la culture et la civilisation, infiniment mieux structurées, plus puissantes, plus autoritaires, provenant de l’Europe de l’Ouest. De même, les courants créés par Maiorescu et par Junimea ont occupé le terrain de la culture roumaine – ce qui n’aurait pas été possible sans l’implication des membres de Junimea dans la politique –, en mar- ginalisant à long terme (en fait, jusqu’à présent) une école culturelle importante et imposante du XIXe siècle, celle de . 54 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

D. Drãghicescu notait queque part que « Maiorescu a été un professeur in- comparable, un créateur non pas de philosophie, mais de philosophes ».18 La preuve de son affirmation et à la fois la preuve du succès à long terme du cou- rant créé par lui a été apportée, dans un moment critique pour l’héritage de Maiorescu et de Junimea, par E. Lovinescu, qui a systématisé les générations de disciples de Maiorescu. Selon le grand critique19, la première génération de dis- ciples de Maiorescu est formée de Mihail Dragomirescu, Simion Mehedinþi, P. P. Negulescu, C. Rãdulescu-Motru, D. Evolceanu, I. A. Rãdulescu-Pogoneanu, G. Bogdan-Duicã, , N. Petraºcu, Anghel Demetriescu ; la deuxième génération, de : Ion Petrovici, E. Lovinescu, Paul Zarifopol, D. Cara- costea ; la troisième génération, de G. Cãlinescu, ªerban Cioculescu, Pompiliu Constantinescu, , Vladimir Streinu, . Nous pouvons observer, à la simple lecture de ces noms, l’écart progressif de la philosophie de la deuxième et surtout de la troisième génération ; de cette dernière, un seul auteur étant encore philosophe – Tudor Vianu – et un seul critique littéraire ayant des préoccupations théoriques et philosophiques aussi – Pompiliu Constantinescu. Très peu avant sa mort, le 23 mai 1943, E. Lovinescu s’est déclaré – et il faut le croire – plein de « gratitude » envers les jeunes de Transylvanie qui lui avaient adressé en lettre ouverte « Le Manifeste du Cercle littéraire ». Il se trouvait de- puis quelque temps à la recherche de « la quatrième génération post-Maiorescu, qui poursuive l’action commencée il y a soixante-dix ans » et il a reconnu dans le « Manifeste du Cercle littéraire » l’apparition des continuateurs, des descendants et dans ses signataires « la quatrième génération post-Maiorescu de défenseurs de l’autonomie de l’esthétique ».20 Les membres du Cercle ont été : I. Negoiþescu, l’auteur du « Manifeste », écrit en fait suite à des débats avec Radu Stanca, le chef reconnu du groupe, ensuite : Victor Iancu, Ion D. Sîrbu, Eta Boeriu, Henri Jacquier, ªtefan Aug. Doinaº, Nicolae Balotã, Cornel Regman, Eugen Todoran, Radu Enescu, Viorica Guy-Marica, Deliu Petroiu, Ovidiu Cotruº, Ioanichie Olteanu, Wolf von Aichelburg, Arthur Dan, Ovidiu Drimba, Ion Oanã, Al. Cucu, Ilie Balea, Dominic Stanca. Comme groupe cohérent, Le Cercle littéraire – le produit brillant d’une université clujoise refugiée après la cession de la Transylvanie (1940), dans « la cité des ombres », nom qu’avait donné Radu Stanca à Sibiu – est le premier fruit important de l’Université roumaine de Cluj, qui a atteint de cette manière, pour la première fois, son but. Parce que c’est bien là la raison d’être d’une Univer- sité : produire des jeunes brillants, aptes à travailler pour la culture humaniste et scientifique du pays – et du monde. Idéologiquement parlant, par l’invocation du modèle Maiorescu, les membres du Cercle littéraire sont la quatrième géné- ration post-Maiorescu, investie comme telle par E. Lovinescul aussi bien dans ses lettres privées que par la « Réponse… » publique que le grand critique leur a Profile • 55 donnée ; par le choix de E. Lovinescu comme modèle inspirateur, les membres du Cercle littéraire ont été la deuxième génération post-Lovinescu, comme le notait quelque part Cornel Regman ; et par l’influence puissante que Lucian Blaga avait eue sur eux, ils sont la première génération post-Blaga, issue, d’un côté, des séminaires de Blaga, et d’un autre côté, du cénacle du Cercle, auquel le philosophe « muet comme un cygne » était invité précisément parce que son silence et surtout son « magnétisme » similaire à celui de Goethe, induisaient leur intelligence ou leur effervescence créatrice.21 Se revendiquant de Maiorescu et de Lovinescu et assumant cela consciem- ment, ayant profondément assimilé l’influence de Blaga – ce qui se voit égale- ment dans le texte du « Manifeste » –, ayant un programme universaliste contre celui de la revue Sãmãnãtorul (Bucarest, 1901-1910) et anti-traditionaliste, le Cercle littéraire représente, je crois, le mouvement culturel-idéologique le plus important né chez nous après la génération ’27 ; avec la précision qu’il s’agit en essence d’une génération de démocrates. Les membres du Cercle, certains d’entre eux, surtout Radu Stanca et I. Negoiþescu, grâce à des liens directs de famille et d’amitié et par des affinités littéraires, ont marqué, au moins en partie, les premières promotions du groupe « Echinox » (Équinoxe)(Cluj, 1968) – lequel représente le deuxième fruit impor- tant de l’Université de Cluj. J’aime croire que l’ineffable mixture philosophique qui avait animé les membres du Cercle littéraire a été transmise par eux comme investiture au moins à certains membres du groupe « Echinox », qui serait – avec nous – la cinquième génération post-Maiorescu, la troisième génération post- Lovinescu et la deuxième génération post-Blaga. q (Traduction de Letiþia Ilea)

Notes

1. Ion Petrovici, Titu Maiorescu 1840-1917, Bucarest, Ed. Casei ªcoalelor, 1931, p. 27. 2. Iacob Negruzzi, Amintiri din « Junimea » (1921), Bucarest, Cartea Româneascã, 1943, p. 10. 3. G. Panu, Amintiri de la « Junimea » din Iaºi, vol. I (écrits 1901-1906), Bucarest, Remus Cioflec, s.a., p. 70. 4. E. Lovinescu, T. Maiorescu ºi contemporanii lui (reproduit l’édition en deux volumes de 1943 et 1944), édition soignée par Z. Ornea et Maria Simionescu, préface de Z. Ornea, Bucarest, Minerva, 1974, p. 350-352. 5. Titu Maiorescu, Opere, I, Jurnal, vol. I, 1855-1882, édition critique coordonnée par Bogdan Mihai Dascãlu, texte établi, traduction, note sur l’édition, notes, glossaire, indices par Ana-Maria Dascãlu et Bogdan Mihai Dascãlu, tableau chronologique par 56 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Tiberiu Avramescu, préface d’acad. Eugen Simion, Bucarest, Academia Românã, Fundaþia Naþionalã pentru ªtiinþã ºi Artã, 2013, p. 206. La lettre de Maiorescu date du 29 avril 1870. 6. Titu Maiorescu, « Direcþia nouã în poezia ºi proza românã » (1872), in Opere, I, édition, notes, variantes, indice par Georgeta Rãdulescu-Dulgheru et Domnica Filimon, étude introductive par Eugen Todoran, Bucarest, Minerva, 1978, p. 158. 7. Petrovici, « Titu Maiorescu », op. cit., p. 28. 8. Z. Ornea, Viaþa lui Titu Maiorescu, vol. I, Bucarest, Cartea Româneascã, 1986, p. 239-242. 9. Voir Marta Petreu, « Schopenhauer ºi Cioran », in Filosofii paralele, deuxième édition revue et augmentée, Iaºi, Polirom, 2013. De même, Liviu Rusu, Scrieri despre Titu Maiorescu, Bucarest, Cartea Româneascã, 1979. 10. Voir, dans ce sens, Constantin Dobrogeanu-Gherea, Neoiobãgia. Studiu economico- sociologic al problemei noastre agrare (1910), in id., Opere complete, vol. 4, édition soignée par Ion Popescu-Puþuri et ªtefan Voitec (dir.), Augustin Deac, Ion Iacoº, Ion Mamina et Teodor Popescu, Bucarest, Ed. Politicã, 1977. 11. Titu Maiorescu, « În contra direcþiei de astãzi în cultura românã » (1868), in Opere, I. 12. E. Lovinescu, Istoria civilizaþiei române moderne, II, Forþele reacþionare, Bucarest, An- cora, 1925, chap. XV, p. 127-138. 13. Voir E. Lovinescu, T. Maiorescu (reproduit l’édition en deux volumes, 1940), édition soignée par Maria Simionescu, Bucarest, Minerva, 1972, p. 193-197. 14. Voir, pour le caractère inapproprié de la question, Panu, Amintiri de la « Junimea » din Iaºi, op. cit., I, p. 38-39 ; Maiorescu, « Direcþia nouã în poezia ºi proza românã », op. cit., p. 157. 15. Maiorescu, « În contra direcþiei de astãzi în cultura românã », op. cit., p. 147-154. 16. Maiorescu, « Direcþia nouã în poezia ºi proza românã », op. cit., p. 212-213. 17. Titu Maiorescu, Însemnãri zilnice, I (1855-1880), publiées avec une introduction, des notes, des fac-similés et des portraits de I. Rãdulescu-Pogoneanu, Bucarest, Ed. Librãriei Socec & Co., s.a., p. 132, la note du 18 avril 1870. 18. D. Drãghicescu, « Titu Maiorescu. Schiþã de biografie psiho-sociologicã », Libertatea (Bucarest), 1940, p. 10 (apud Ornea, Viaþa lui Titu Maiorescu, op. cit., I, p. 460). 19. E. Lovinescu, T. Maiorescu ºi posteritatea lui criticã (1943), édition soignée et note sur l’édition par Viola Vancea, avant-propos d’Alexandru George, Bucarest, Ed. In- stitutului Cultural Român, 2009. 20. E. Lovinescu, « Rãspunsul dlui Lovinescu la scrisoarea ‘Cercului literar’ din Sibiu », le 23 mai 1943, in Scrieri, 3, Aquaforte, Anexã, édition d’Eugen Simion, Bucarest, Minerva, 1990, p. 414-418. 21. Marta Petreu, « Cerchiºtii sau profesorii pe care nu i-am avut », in Farkas Jenø, Cvadratura Cercului literar. În dialog cu cerchiºtii I. Negoiþescu, ªtefan Aug. Doinaº, Nicolae Balotã, Cornel Regman, avec une préface de Marta Petreu, Bucarest, Muzeul Literaturii Române, 2014, p. 7-12. Profile • 57

Abstract The Legacy of Maiorescu

The article is devoted to Titu Maiorescu (1840–1917), literary critic, philosopher, professor, politi­ ­ cian, founding member of the Romanian Academy, the man who gave Romanian culture the shape and structure it exhibits even today. He was also the spiritual mentor of the Junimea (Youth) cultural association. The author outlines the methods employed by Maiorescu in his attempt to synchronize Romanian culture with that of Western Europe. At the core of the study lies the concept of “forms without substance” (1868), Maiorescu’s original contribution to the philosophy of culture, describ- ing, in organicist-evolutionist terms, the crisis experienced by Romanian society following the hasty and indiscriminate imitation of Western models. In order to achieve a balance between European forms and European substance, contended Maiorescu, the imitation of Western structures should be selective and proceed at a slower pace. Highlighting one of the consequences of the hasty imita- tion of Western structures, the fracture between the upper classes and the commoners, Maiorescu formulated what the author calls his ethical-political imperative: the obligation of the upper classes to pursue knowledge and to do their utmost to elevate the lower classes to the level of the already imported forms. The author presents the long-term influences of Maiorescu’s ideas, over five genera- tions of followers.

Keywords Titu Maiorescu, Junimea, forms without substance, ethical-political imperative, organicist phi- losophy, synchronization G e o rg e -B o g d a n Octavian C. Tãslãuanu T o f a n A d ri a n N i ÞÃ (1876–1942)

Octavian Codru Tãslãuanu, who made a special contribution to prepar- ing, achieving and perfecting the Great Union of 1 December 1918, is one of the outstanding personalities of Tran- sylvania. The necessity of such an ap- proach derives from the historical res- onance of the Centenary of the Great Union, an occasion to bring back into the collective memory the biography and the work of this forgotten writer and politician. Furthermore, the first author of this study, like Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, came “into the openness of life in a village perched on the Car- pathian ridges; a village as beautiful as in fairy tales. Its name is Bilbor” (Tãslãuanu 1976, 12), and was also Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, senator of Mureş, 1926 a student of both schools that have as spiritual mentor the illustrious son born at the foot of the Cãliman Moun- George-Bogdan Tofan tains. The photographs and some of Lecturer at the Faculty of Economic Sci- the information presented in this brief ences, Engineering and Informatics, De- piece are unprecedented, being ob- partment of Engineering and Informatics, tained from the only living niece of Vasile Goldiş Western University of Arad, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, Stela Mitruþã, Baia Mare Branch. the daughter of the writer’s youngest Adrian Niþã brother (Cornel Tãslãuanu), to whom Lecturer at the Faculty of Geography, we thank profusely. Babeş-Bolyai University, Octavian Codru Tãslãuanu was Branch. born in Bilbor village, Ciuc County, Profile • 59

Tulgheº District, on 1 February 1876, in the family a Greek Catholic priest, Father Ioan Tãslãuanu. He was the second of the eleven children of the family, the first boy, and the first to break with the priestly tradition of this old family from the Tazlãu Valley. He went to primary school in the village before the age of 5; there, for three years, he was initiated in the secrets of Cyrillic alphabet writing and reading. Among others, he had his father as a teacher, who “also taught religion in the school” (Tãslãuanu 1976, 58). Then he continued his studies at the primary school in Sânmiclãuº (today the municipality of Gheorgheni), where, since he did not know Hungarian, he was enrolled in the 3rd grade once more. Without going through the 4th grade (it is assumed that his father subsequently presented a certificate of graduation from the primary school in his native village), three years later, in 1889, he pursued his secondary education in the same school, with mediocre results. Unhappy with this, Father Ioan, without consulting the young Octavian, intended to transfer him to a school in Bistriþa, with German language teach- ing. Following a brief examination on the basic knowledge acquired on various subjects, the school principal, seeing the student’s level of education, told Father Ioan that he had to repeat the 3rd year of secondary school. Not accepting this situation, on the same day, he continued on his way to Nãsãud, where he com- pleted his fourth year of secondary school. His father, educated and persevering, a true aristocrat in nature and appearance, considered that for his son’s educa- tion, for a proper career, the boy needed to know his mother tongue and the German and Hungarian languages. Thus, in the autumn of 1890, he enrolled him in the first year of upper secondary school (5th grade) at the Andrei ªaguna Romanian Orthodox High School in Braºov, where he had Virgil Oniþiu as his teacher. Virgil Oniþiu converted his name into Tãslãuanu from Tesloan, as it ap- peared in the school certificates of the four lower secondary classes; that teacher also raised his interest in literature, which is why he repeated some courses of the same class, becoming colleagues with Sextil Puşcariu. Always under the wing and direct guidance of his parent, Tãslãuanu was transferred to Blaj, so that after high school he would attend the theological seminary. There, he said, “I have begun to learn, to study and quickly distinguish myself, becoming one of the best students” (Tãslãuanu 1976, 76). In Blaj, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu was to experience the first emotions born of the direct involvement in the national struggle (ªandru 1997, 31), when, under pressure from the authorities, the school leadership imposed the change of the statute of the Reading Society of Students; the intention was to introduce, in addition to the mother tongue, the official language of the state, Hungarian. This requirement was rejected by the students, the most prominent protestor 60 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) being Iosif Şchiopul, Tãslãuanu’s future friend and collaborator at Luceafãrul magazine, who was expelled. In solidarity with him, the 7th and 8th grade high school students refused to attend classes, going on strike, but eventually this demonstration was ended once their parents were called to Blaj; also, the stu- dents were required to sign individual requests for re-enrollment. The second time Octavian C. Tãslãuanu participated in a national demonstra- tion was in February 1894. Then, the students of the high school, hearing about the presence in Blaj of Vasile Lucaciu, one of the initiators and signatories of the protest “Memorandum of Romanians in Transylvania and Hungary” (1892), who was seeking to obtain from the Greek Catholic Church the cancellation of his suspension as priest in ªiºeºti, organized a demonstration (Pop et al. 2000, 451). Vasile Lucaciu received tributes in short speeches and later in the evening was acclaimed on the streets, on his way to the train station (Iancu 2005, 326). On 4 May 1894, some members of the Central Committee of the Romanian National Party took the same train from Sibiu to Cluj, their journey turning into an ample manifestation. Thus, in the Blaj train station, dozens of people, despite the threats of the Hungarian authorities, received the delegations with flowers, cheers, and tricolor ribbons, singing “Romanians, Awaken!” around the train (Neamþu et al. 1997, 107). The event was also attended by the young Octavian and the students of the boarding school. The culmination of the nationalist sen- timent experienced by the teenager Octavian C. Tãslãuanu took place upon his graduation from high school, in 1895, when, without the knowledge of their co- ordinating teacher, Chiriac B. Groze, together with some colleagues, he decided to write on the graduation board the following motto: “Poison we shall take, in the fire we shall bathe, for the national ideal!” (Tãslãuanu 1976, 81). As result, the state authorities began an investigation, conducted by the prosecutor of the Alba Iulia Court and by a Budapest government commissioner, who sought to identify the authors of that irredentist slogan, blaming the entire teaching staff, which they accused of nationalism directed against the Hungarian state. Some of the graduates, including Tãslãuanu, decided to take all the blame, which led to their expulsion and the interdiction to take their final exams in that school. His school leaving certificate (ibid., 82) reads: “Following decision no. 45490 of the High Ministry of Religious Affairs and Public Instruction of 18 September 1895, he was expelled from this school because he used a series of photos against the state order, so he is not allowed to take the final exams at this school.” In the meantime, unable to graduate, he worked as an intern in the Bicaz no- tary’s office, receiving modest payment. In December of the same year he finally took his baccalaureate exam, at the Superior General High School in Nãsãud. As a civil servant with the notary in Bicaz he refused to attend the celebration of the Hungarian Millennium, organized at the end of the nineteenth century (8 Profile • 61

June 1896). This had direct repercussions on his professional development, as he could not take the examination necessary in order to become a notary. Then, two more years of failures and searches followed, as he attempted to obtain a scholarship in Blaj, to become a mining engineer, or petitioned the Crown domain in Bicaz to be allowed to study forestry at the Agricultural School of Herãstrãu. All this happened because he realized that his father would eventu- ally force him to attend the Blaj Theological Seminary. Indeed, without his son’s knowledge, Father Ioan Tãslãuanu requested a place for Octavian, which was kept for him the whole school year. His disobedience in regard to his father’s instructions would result in the cessation of any financial support for any other studies for several years. After another unsuccessful attempt to find a job at two institutes in Craiova (Frateº and Arnold), he received his draft papers and decided to become an ac- tive officer in the army. In the autumn of 1897, while in Odorheiu Secuiesc, he requested to be sent to the Naval School of Austria-Hungary, at Pola, on the Adriatic Coast (Bucur 1996, 218). There, for six months, with the 87th Regi- ment, he received very thorough military training; still, for independent reasons, he could not pursue a military career, being finally promoted to the rank of re- serve second lieutenant and discharged. Back in the country, he went to Bucharest, with only 50 crowns in his pocket received from his mother. There he briefly worked for a private school, the Clin- ciu–Popa Institute for Boys, as a primary school teacher and as a high school tutor, receiving a modest payment. Between 1898 and 1902 he attended the courses of the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters of the , benefiting from the guidance of professors of great intellectual prestige: Titu Maiorescu, Ovid Densusianu, D. Onciul (who supervised his paper on “The Origin of the Hunyadis,” which re- ceived the Hiller Award of Carol I Foundation), Simion Mehedinþi and Nicolae Iorga, who “preached a nationalism of diligent labor, a constructive nationalism, founded on truth and of a deep love of the nation. . . . The nationalism propound- ed by N. Iorga had an overwhelming influence over me” (Tãslãuanu 1976, 98). As a sophomore, in order to support himself, he worked at the French High School in the capital city, located on Calea Moşilor Street, teaching Romanian to the 1st to 3rd grades, Romanian history to the 4th grade, and occasionally phys- ical education. In addition to that, he took part in the youth’s literary circles, such as the Blue Flower and the Literary Café, coming into contact with writers and representative young artists like Ioan Slavici, Alexandru Lapedatu, Valentin Bude, Constantin Sporea, Ilarie Chendi, and others. After graduating college, at the age of 26, at the recommendation of Ioan Bianu from the Romanian Academy, he was appointed secretary at the General 62 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Consulate of Romania in Budapest, since the place was vacant after the retire- ment of Ion Poruþiu, the former editor of the newspaper Federaþiunea (The Federation). In July 1902 he became acquainted with a group of Romanian students who were members of the Petru Maior Academic Society, and who, driven by their patriotism and their and love for , the national poet, edited a literary magazine titled Luceafãrul (The Evening Star). In the editorial board there were Alexandru Ciura, the editor-in-chief, Aurel P. Bãnuþ, editor, as well as , Ion Lãpedatu, Ioan Lupaº, Ioan Montani, Sebastian Stanca, V. E. Moldovan, Dionisie Stoica and George Zãria, as members (Dãncilã 2010, 230). Given his educational background, he was invited to join the team, hav- ing as his main task the verification and proofreading of the materials to be published in the magazine. Starting with the second issue of the magazine, he published several notes, on page 14, without signing them, because of his status as a diplomatic official. Quickly realizing that the publica- tion of the magazine required total dedication and devotion, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu finally decided to assume that task. He was determined to make it not only a literary magazine of the student youth, but also “a national propaganda tribune, raising awareness about Romanian unity” (Tãslãuanu 1976, 113), with “a manifestly Ro- manian character, gathering around it, one by one, almost all the leading writers of the time. The Luceafãrul magazine has become a national battle flag” (ibid., 129). After he took over the magazine from Aurel P. Bãnuþ, he relocated the edi­torial offices to his house, being as- sisted in the editorial work by Octavian Goga. Together they faced the difficul- ties caused by the lack of money need- Cover of Luceafãrul magazine, no. 1 of 1904, suggestively illustrating ed for the publication of the magazine “The Resurrection” of the Romanian nation (Tãslãuanu 1939, 14). Starting with 1 Profile • 63

January 1904, he printed the first issue of the magazine on special paper, having for the first time a colored cover and 48 pages. The circulation was quite signifi- cant, with 5,000 copies distributed throughout Transylvania. The second issue, of 15 January 1904, was first thematic one, dedicated to the 60th anniversary of Queen Elisabeth of Romania, who used the literary pseudonym Carmen Sylva (Tãslãuanu 1936, 37); later it was supplemented with other anniversary notes, in no. 24 of 1913. Later that year, in July, the 12th and 13th issues were dedicated to a special historical moment, commemorating 400 years since the death of Stephen the Great. Following that success, the number of subscriptions rose sharply. Moreover, among the outstanding contributors, there were: Nicolae Iorga, ªt. O. Iosif, Ion Agârbiceanu, Duiliu Zamfirescu, Liviu Rebreanu, , Ioan Lupaº, Sextil Puºcariu, Ilarie Chendi, Maria Cunþan, Alice Stephanie Stãnescu Cãlugãru, Alexandru I. Hodoº, and Octavian Goga. As time went by, he con- tinued editing series of special issues dedicated to great personalities, who rep- resented to the highest degree the features of Romanian spirituality, people like , Mihai Eminescu, Ion Creangã, George Coºbuc, Alexandru Vlahuþã, I. L. Caragiale, Nicolae Grigorescu, ªtefan Luchian, Aurel Vlaicu, Constantin Brâncuºi and others, and also to the members of the Romanian Academy: Sextil Puºcariu, Ioan Bianu, Titu Maiorescu, August Treboniu Laurian or Nicolae Iorga. He promoted the cause of Romanian national unity not only as a magazine editor, but also as a publisher, setting up his own printing house. There he pub- lished the verse collection of Octavian Goga, entitled Poems, which brought the poet a true triumph, as well as the prose books of Ion Agârbiceanu (De la þarã), Alexandru Ciura (Icoane), Ioan Slavici (Mara) and of other writers. The cultural manifestations occasioned by the 40th anniversary of the reign of King Carol I were also recorded in Luceafãrul magazine; in no. 7 of 1906, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu published a chronicle which announced the great act of the union, suggestively titling it “Resurrection,” in which he stated:

And again, the day of the National Resurrection, of that resurrection, will come, and all members of our nation will celebrate the consecration of what is still an aspiration . . . the incarnation of the great idea . . . Many of us in many parts of the land cannot profess our faith, but we carry it with reverence in our hearts and pass it on to our children; and there will come, with our Lord’s grace, a time when our descendants will speak without shame and without fear: True, he is resurrected! The whole nation is resurrected and so is the faith in its strength. (p. 160) Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, second lieutenant in the 87th Infantry Regiment (August–November 1906, Banja Luka, Bosnia) Profile • 65

It is also important to mention here the piece titled “Romanian Nation” and featured in no. 13–16 of 1906, in which Octavian C. Tãslãuanu also militates for the achievement of the national ideal: “We often speak proudly of the Romanian nation. However, most of us do not know the past and present meaning of this concept. We constantly speak of the cultural unity of this nation, without realiz- ing that the only way to achieve this unity is by knowing the nation, its life in all its manifestations. Above all, the unity of a nation is represented by its national consciousness, and this consciousness is called to life especially by the knowledge of its own past and by the close acquaintance, in the present, with those who are of a nation and speak the same language” (p. 356). Following the proposal made by his friend Octavian Goga, the literary sec- retary of the astra Association of Sibiu, and also for financial reasons, at the end of 1906 he decided to move with the whole magazine to Sibiu, resigning from his diplomatic position (Triteanu 1972, 20). He had just been elected as the administrative secretary of the Association, a position he held until 1914. He initiated a series of classes for peasants, conferences on agricultural issues, increased the number of branches and libraries and intensified the editorial ac- tivity, printing publications for the popularization of Romanian culture and sci- ence, such as the Transilvania magazine. Then he provided the Central Library of the Association with a collection of nearly 300 titles, consisting of various history books and anthologies of great Romanian authors: Vasile Alecsandri, Ion Creangã, George Coºbuc, Ioan Slavici, Ion Agârbiceanu, Anton Pann, etc. He also organized the collections according to the system applied by the Roma- nian Academy, with library cards, setting up a section of periodicals and manu- scripts. He was also entrusted with the leadership and endowment of the astra Museum of History and Ethnography, and managed, until 1909, to increase the museum’s collection to over 4,000 exhibits. The Sibiu period (1906–1914) was the most prosperous for Luceafãrul mag- azine, both financially and in terms of the quality of the various cultural, social and even political articles; according to the memoirist, it became “a mirror of all the unrest in Romanian life,” “the pulpit of the young generation of Transyl­ vania,” “the temple at whose altar the literary and artistic talents served as priests of culture,” bearing in their souls the hope “of the incarnation of the great idea, when all members of our nation will celebrate the consecration of what is still an aspiration” (Luceafãrul 5, 17–18, 1906, p. 362). The need to educate the Romanian rural population remained a constant presence in the writings of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu. For example, in “Literary Bees” he argued: “Before we proceed with the enlightenment of the people, we should know what kind of education they lack, what would help them earn more 66 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) easily their daily bread, what would make their struggle for existence easier” (Luceafãrul 7, 3, 1908, p. 52). In the same context, in the article entitled “Two Cultures: The Culture of Gentlemen and the Culture of Peasants,” published in Luceafãrul, no. 4 of 15 February 1908, the issue of the material and spiritual culture of the two social classes was approached. The text ended with a question about the hope for a young generation with the courage and the strength to fight for national culture. Additionally, in 1911 he published three other articles, in both Luceafãrul and Transilvania, pointing out the cultural unity and the awakening of the Romanian consciousness: “Books for the People,” “The Eco- nomic Organization of the Peasantry,” and “The Organization of our Villages.” There he contended: “This dire situation can only be improved by awakening in peasants the consciousness that they are part of a nation with aspirations and with rights to a national existence, independent of the mercy of the powers that be” (Transilvania, no. 2, March–April 1911, p. 119). In Luceafãrul magazine, no. 4 of 16 February 1909, related to the 50th an- niversary of the union of the Principalities, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu signed an article titled “Union,” stating the following: “On January 24th, 50 years have passed since, amid animation and celebration, the song of the Union was sung beyond the Carpathians . . . A nation showed that it was capable of experiencing moments of exaltation and spiritual rejuvenation, such as that of the first Union, and it therefore has the right to hope for a great future, when all its energies will have to be mobilized to make it the pride of humanity and of nature that created it.” Unfortunately, all these literary and cultural actions in the service of Roma- nian unity were interrupted in mid–June 1914, when Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, an officer of the Austro-Hungarian army, was sent to the Galician front. The last issue of Luceafãrul magazine, dedicated to the Romanian Army, became a rarity, being destroyed in the press repository, as it spoke about the dismemberment of the monarchy, namely, the liberation and the unconditional union of Transylvania with the motherland. The publication of the magazine was resumed only in 1919, in Bucharest, under the directorship of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu. He then published six articles on the consolidation of the Great Union: “The Union” (no. 1, 1 January 1919, p. 1), “Transylvania” (no. 3–4, 16 February 1919, pp. 49–50), “Resurrection” (no. 17, 16 September 1919, p. 333), “The European Idea” (no. 18, 1 October 1919, p. 373), and “The Problem of the Nation” (no. 20–21, 16 November 1919, pp. 427–428). Given the many activities that he carried out throughout that difficult period, the publication of the magazine came to an end, the last issue being that of May 1920. Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, 1910, when he was in Sibiu; photo sent to his younger brother, Cornel Tãslãuanu 68 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Shortly before he died, on the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the new series of Luceafãrul magazine, edited by Olimpiu Boitoş, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu wrote his last article, titled “What Luceafãrul Pursued.” This article allows us to easily understand the whole effort that Octavian C. Tãslãuanu made in his struggle for the advancement of the national ideal:

The foundation of our work has been the national idea. It has guided all steps in our life. We consider it a most precious heritage that we felt obliged to promote and help triumph. Our nationalism was not learned from books or borrowed from others, but it was organic, innate, coming from the peasant population of the villages, which gave most of our intellectuals . . . At Luceafãrul magazine, we tried to awaken this conscience and maintain a militant spirit against the foreign domination under which we lived. And God has helped us to see the Union with our own eyes. . . . The national idea embraced by us included all Romanians everywhere. The pages of the magazine prove that we have not forgotten any corner of Romanian soil. . . . We did it to prove that we were not a poor and inferior people, as our enemies liked to consider us.

After three months of fighting on the Galician front, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, injured and ill, was treated at the Mehadia sanatorium. He then succeeded to cross the mountains to Romania, reaching Bucharest (Netea 2006, 28). There, together with other great fighters of his time, such as Take Ionescu, Nicolae Filipescu, Barbu ªtefãnescu Delavrancea, Nicolae Titulescu, and , he initiated a broad propaganda campaign against Romania’s neutrality, advo- cating the entry into the war against the oppressors of the Romanians in the alienated provinces. His first action in this respect coincided with the publication of the volume of impressions and stories from the Galician front, titled Three Months on the Battlefield: The Journal of a Romanian Officer in the Austro-Hungarian Army who Took Part together with the Romanian Infantrymen from Transylvania in the Battles of Galicia, in the summer of 1915. Its documentary value and nationalist char- acter led to the publication of three consecutive editions, being translated into French, English and Italian. Also, the publication of this literary work gave rise to intense polemics between the supporters and opponents of the Central Pow- ers, the former describing Tãslãuanu as “a Transylvanian fugitive who deserted his post, making a title of glory from the fraudulent crossing of the border and displaying his bravery on the streets of Bucharest” (Tãslãuanu 1935, 47). The following year, at the same publishing house, he published a collection of reports and short stories titled The Dance of Bombshells: Scenes and Icons of War, which is considered the first volume of Romanian prose inspired by the First Profile • 69

World War. The brilliant orator Octavian C. Tãslãuanu also carried out an in- tense propaganda activity in the magazines Tribuna and Epoca; in the second one he published, under the heading “Transylvania Speaks,” a series of articles on the achievement of national unity. In the meantime he joined The Unionist Federation, a patriotic organization which he called “a great temple of the new law: the accomplishment of Greater Romania. The foundations of this temple rest on the entire land of the nation...” After Romania entered the war, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu and other refugees who had been officers in the Austro-Hungarian army expressed their wish to be accepted as combat officers, but they were refused on the grounds that they did not have Romanian citizenship (Netea 1970, 71). He petitioned the Council of Ministers requesting the establishment of regiments made up of Transylvanian and Bukovinian Romanian prisoners in Russia, as well as from refugees in the country, but his action remained without any result. On 23 January 1917 he was appointed to serve as an interpreter with the General Staff of the 7th Division, Trotuş Valley. Following the order of 22 April 1917, he was appointed head of the Intelligence Bureau of the Fourth Army Corps, Oneºti, being then granted Romanian citizenship and later promoted to the rank of captain. In the autumn of 1918, in Iaºi, as secretary of the National Committee of the Romanian Emigrants from Austria-Hungary, together with the historian Alexandru Lapedatu, he devoted himself to the organization of Transylvanian and Bukovinian regiments, recruited from among the Romanian prisoners; the draft was submitted to the Council of Ministers and King Ferdinand, who ap- proved it (Stan 1996, 223). During this period he printed the brochure For the People: Why Romania Could Not Follow another Path, in which he motivated Romania’s entry into the war, supporting the policy of pursuing national unity. After the dismissal of the Marghiloman Government, following enthusiastic demonstrations for the union, Tãslãuanu wrote to Sextil Puşcariu, who was engaged in the Bukovina movement: “The time has come, dear Sextil. I feel the blessed joy of witnessing the fulfillment of the dreams we fought for with all our might” (Puºcariu 1968, 310). On 1 December 1918, in Alba Iulia, the Great Assembly of the Romanian People in Transylvania definitively consecrated the historical act of the union of Transylvania with Romania. In recognition of his merits, Octavian C. Tãslãuanu was appointed member of the Great Romanian National Assembly, but the rapid pace of the events made it impossible for him to participate in this important national event. Given his militant and energetic nature, in the elections of 1919 Octavian C. Tãslãuanu was elected deputy, in Tulgheº District, running for the People’s League. He then became vice-president of the Society of Romanian Writers, then 70 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

The card of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, member of the Great Romanian National Assembly minister of commerce and industry, from 13 March to 16 November 1920 and minister of public works, from 16 November to 1 January 1921, in ’s government; in 1926 he became senator of Mureº (Buta and Onofreiu 2016, 94). In his short ministerial period he proved to be extremely active, initiat- ing a series of laws and reforms meant to reorganize the national economy. As a sign of respect for his entire military activity, in 1921 Octavian C. Tãslãuanu received the highest distinction of Romania, the Romanian National Order of the Star, the military version, with two swords on the reverse. After his retirement from politics he began to write a long cycle of autobio- graphical papers, entitled Confessions and consisting of 15 volumes; it started with My Village: Memories of Childhood and Youth, published only in 1976, on the cen- tenary of the birth of the writer, and ended with a volume of articles published after the end of the First World War (ªandru 1997, 145). We must also mention the two volumes on economic issues, in which Octavian C. Tãslãuanu outlined a comprehensive economic recovery project for the country: Production: An Eco- nomic Program (1924) and The Economic Policy of Romania, 1930 (1931). In 1933 he published a volume of journalistic articles titled Political Waves, abusively seized before it was distributed. The first volume of its work Under the National Flags was published in 1935, featuring a series of notes and documents from the war for the reunification of the nation. Even though the three other Profile • 71 volumes had been finished by 1938, they remained in manuscript form until the end of his life. He died at the age of 66, after a long suffering, on 23 October 1942, and was buried in Bellu Cemetery in Bucharest. In his memory, Luceafãrul magazine (12 December 1942) published a series of pieces on his life and activity, signed by Ion Agârbiceanu, Ilie Dãianu, Petre Poruþiu, Aurel P. Bãnuþ, and Victor Papilian.

s stated above, much of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu’s work remained unpub- lished or in the project phase, until his death. In the spring of 1976, on A 22 and 23 May, on the initiative of Professor Ilie Şandru from Topliþa, celebrations were held on the centenary of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu’s birth. On the first day, in Topliþa, a series of 17 papers on the life and work of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu were presented, published two years later in a commemorative volume (Tãslãuanu 1996, 11) which also included a chronology of the publi- cist’s life, a few “In Memoriam” notes, a bibliography and several photos, and the article “At a Rest Stop.” The latter was written by Tãslãuanu at the age of 60, and was published posthumously, in 1976, by his grandson, Gelu Voican- Voiculescu, first in Vatra magazine (Târgu-Mureş), no. 8, and later included in the commemorative volume. The following day, in his native village of Bilbor, a ceremony marked the publication of the volume titled Confessions, edited by Gelu Voican-Voiculescu with a preface signed by the historian Vasile Netea. After 1990, the memory of the illustrious son of Bilbor was revived in a series of anniversary events organized successively in the two aforementioned localities (ªandru 2012, 280); on those occasions, among other things, two bronze busts were placed. At the same time, he became the spiritual patron of the secondary school in Bilbor and of the theoretical high school in Topliþa. The “Octavian Codru Tãslãuanu at the Crossroads of Time” communications and reporting session has been organized since 2005, around February 1, with some interrup- tions; nowadays, in 2018, it has reached the 11th edition, all the materials being included in a volume, currently not indexed in any international database. We shall also mention here the only work devoted to the memory of the active militant for the Great Union, In the Footsteps of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu, written by Ilie Şandru. The first edition was published in 1997, and the second in 2012. Recently, in 2016, in order to bring it to the attention of the new gen- eration, the first volume in the series Confessions, entitled My Village. Memories from Childhood and Youth, was reprinted; the volume was edited by Vasile Stan and Mãrioara Angelica Stan. A collection of original diaries and letters from the correspondence of Octavian C. Tãslãuanu with various personalities of the time was also published in 2016 by Alexandru Gavrilescu and Oana Dimitriu. q 72 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

References

Luceafãrul magazine coll. (1902–1945), in the digital collection of Lucian Blaga Central University Library, Cluj-Napoca, http://documente.bcucluj.ro/web/bibdigit/peri- odice/luceafarul. Bucur, N. 1996. “O personalitate harghiteanã în lupta pentru unire—Octavian C. Tãslãuanu”. Angustia (Sfântu Gheorghe) 1: 217–221. Buta, M. G. and A. Onofreiu. 2016. Victor Moldovan: Memorile unui politician din perio- ada interbelicã. Vol. 1. Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitarã Clujeanã. Dãncilã, A. 2010. “Ipostaze ale elitei culturale româneºti din Transilvania începutului de secol XX: Generaþia Luceafãrului (1902–1914).” Annales Universitatis Apulensis (Alba-Iulia), Series Historica, 14/1: 229–238. Gavrilescu, A. and O. Dimitriu. 2016. Clauza de conºtiinþã: Octavian C. Tãslãuanu: jur- nale inedite ºi scrisori. Bucharest: Semne. Iancu, G. 2005. “Vasile Lucaciu la Blaj (Februarie 1894).” Annales Universitatis Apulensis, Series Historica, 9/1: 323–330. Neamþu, G., ª. Polverejan, N. Cordoº, and L. Maior. 1997. “Miºcarea memorandistã.” In Istoria României: Transilvania, ed. A. Drãgoescu. Vol. 2. Cluj-Napoca: George Bariþiu. Netea, V. 1970. O zi din istoria Transilvaniei. Bucharest: Albatros. ——. 2006. Mureºul superior—vatrã de culturã româneascã. Bucharest: Cuvântul. Pop, I.-A., T. Nägler, and. A. Magyari. Eds. 2010. The History of Transylvania. Vol. 3 (from 1711 to 1918). Cluj-Napoca: Romanian Academy, Center for Transylvanian Studies. Puºcariu, S. 1968. Cãlare pe douã veacuri: Amintiri din tinereþe (1895–1906). Bucharest: Ed. pentru Literaturã. Stan, C. 1996. “Octavian C. Tãslãuanu ºi corpul voluntarilor români din Rusia.” Angus- tia 1: 223–230. ªandru, I. Ed. 1978. Octavian C. Tãslãuanu: Volum comemorativ. Miercurea-Ciuc: Com- itetul pentru Culturã ºi Educaþie Socialistã, Harghita. ——. 1997. Pe urmele lui Octavian Codru Tãslãuanu. Târgu-Mureº: Petru Maior. ——. 2012. Pe urmele lui Octavian Codru Tãslãuanu. 2nd edition, revised and extended Târgu-Mureº: Nico. Tãslãuanu, O. C. 1915. Trei luni pe câmpul de rãsboiu: Ziarul unui român ofiþer în armata austro-ungarã, care a luat parte, cu glotaşii români din Ardeal la luptele din Galiþia. Bucharest: Ed. Librãriei ªcoalelor C. Sfetea. ——. 1916. Hora obuzelor: Scene ºi icoane din rãsboiu. Bucharest: Ed. Librãriei ªcoalelor C. Sfetea. ——. 1924. Producþia: Un program economic: Epoca guvernului Averescu 1920. Cluj: Ardealul. ——. 1931. Politica economicã a României, 1930: Contribuþiuni la rezolvarea crizei. Pt. 1, Politica financiarã; Pt. 2, Politica agrarã; Pt. 3, Politica industrialã. Bucharest: Socec. ——. 1933. Valuri politice. Bucharest: Tipografia Bucovina I. E. Torouþiu. ——. 1935. Sub flamurile naþionale: Note ºi documente din rãzboiul de întregire al neamului. Vol. 1. Sighiºoara: Miron Neagu. Profile • 73

——. 1936. Amintiri de la “Luceafãrul.” Bucharest: Tipografia Bucovina. ——. 1939. Octavian Goga: Amintiri ºi contribuþii la istoricul revistei “Luceafãrul.” Partea I, Epoca budapestanã. Bucharest: Tipografia Bucovina I. E. Torouþiu. ——. 1976. Spovedanii. Ed. G. Voican-Voiculescu. Foreword by V. Netea. Bucharest: Minerva. ——. 1996. Obsesia europeanã: Studii politice. Ed. G. Voican-Voiculescu. Afterword by Vasile Secãreº. Bucharest: Scripta. ——. 2001. Din vârtejul rãzboiului. 3 vols. Ed. G. Voican-Voiculescu. Bucharest: rao. ——. 2016. Satul meu—amintiri din copilãrie ºi tinereþe. Eds. V. Stan and M. A. Stan. Gheorgheni: F&F International. Triteanu, M. 1972. Luceafãrul: Bibliografie. Bucharest: Ed. Enciclopedicã Românã.

Abstract Octavian C. Tãslãuanu (1876–1942)

Octavian C. Tãslãuanu (1876–1942) was a polyvalent Romanian cultural personality of the inter- war period. In 1903 he became a graduate of the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters of the Univer- sity of Bucharest. Between 1902 and 1906 he worked as a secretary at the General Consulate of Romania in Budapest. From 1903 until 1920 he took over the leadership of the literary magazine Luceafãrul, a publication that militated for the cultural and political unity of the Romanians in Transylvania. The publicistic activity of this outstanding figure of Romanian culture was subordi- nated to the one ideal for which he lived and fought all his life: the union of all Romanians within one country. Between 1906 and 1914 he was elected secretary of the astra Association in Sibiu, where he actively promoted the dissemination of national culture. In 1917 he was appointed head of the Intelligence Bureau of the Fourth Army Corps, later attaining the rank of captain. He and the first patriarch of the Romanians, Dr. Elie Miron Cristea, another personality from the Up- per Mureş area (Topliþa), were elected members of the Great Romanian National Assembly at Alba Iulia; then, in the first free elections, in 1919, he was elected deputy, being for a short time minister of commerce and industry and then minister of public works in the Alexandru Averescu government. In 1926 he became senator.

Keywords Transylvania, Bilbor, national ideal, Luceafãrul magazine, astra Association, the Great War transsilvanica

Early Banknotes of the Habsburg Empire and Their Circulation in Transylvania Until the Establishment of the Austro-Hungarian

S o ri n a B o ti ª Dualism

Introduction

he temporal boundaries of the research are defined by the first Tissues of Austrian banknotes and the year 1867, when the Privileged Austrian National Bank was reorga- nized on a dualist basis, becoming the Austro-Hungarian Bank, with all the subsequent monetary changes. These would be much more severe for Tran-

Kossuth’s banknote, sylvania, newly annexed to Hungary. 10 forint (1848) We outlined the second part of this theoretical itinerary of banknotes by means of the following monetary mile- Sorina Botiº stones: Associate professor at the Faculty of Eco- • 1848–1849: Kossuth’s banknotes, nomic Sciences and Business Administra- tion, Transylvania University of Braºov, issued and put into circulation by the Romania. Author, among others, of the vol. first independent Hungarian govern- Bani ºi bãnci în Transilvania perioadei ment in 1848; 1600–1918 (Money and banks in Transyl­ • 24 January 1857: the conclusion vania of the 1600–1918 period) (2007). of the monetary agreement between Transsilvanica • 75

Austria, Prussia and other states that participated in the German Customs Union (Zollverein); maintaining the silver standard as the basis of the monetary system; • 19 September 1857: imperial patent by means of which the monetary sys- tem of the monarchy is reorganized and modernized; • 27 April 1858: imperial patent on monetary reform; the introduction of the Austrian currency system beginning with 1 November 1858; • 30 August 1858: imperial patent which amended the privilege of the bank of issue, in accordance with the provisions of the Monetary Convention (Treaty); • 26 December 1858: order which stipulated the withdrawal from circula- tion of the old currency and the issue of a new one. What is new in 1848, the year of the revolution, is the issue and entry into circulation of banknotes from the first independent Hungarian government. The last part of the article is dedicated to the presentation of the terms of the Monetary Convention, concluded between Austria and the countries of the Ger- man Customs Union, ending with a series of conclusions formulated in response to the central topic of each section. The studied bibliographical material is extremely vast, including documents, archives and other sources, yearbooks, statistics, periodicals and indexes, mon- etary legislation, general works and specialized works, which is why this research required an extended period of time.

“Kossuth’s Banknotes”—Banknotes Issued by the First Independent Hungarian Government 1848–1849

n 3 September (1848), the harvest of Archpriest George Criºan from the commune of Sãcalu [Bãrboºi/Mezøszakál], Mureº Coun- “ ty, from the Plains, was parched, and the damages amounted to O 1 4,000 (four thousand) florins in Austrian currency.” In 1848, especially after the events of March, the Privileged Austrian National Bank faced a number of difficulties, due to the large quantities of coins from the coverage stock, with- drawn under the pressure of events by holders of banknotes, by virtue of their convertibility. Thus, beginning with 1848, at the request of the state, the Privileged Austri- an National Bank issued the so-called salt mine vouchers (Salinenscheine). Their name comes from the fact that the guarantee for the issued mortgage vouchers was made with the income from some state salt mines in Austria. Their re- payment term was 12 months, the interest ranging between 5% and 6%. The term ‘voucher’ itself, taken from French, means ticket authorizing the receipt of 76 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) something.2 Being received as payment by all public pay offices, they fulfilled the function of a means of payment. In the context of the revolution, Lajos Kossuth (1802–1894), the leader of the Hungarian revolution, addressing the Diet of Pozsony (Bratislava, Press- burg) on 3 March 1848, made a number of claims, among which in Section 9 he also mentioned the establishment of a national bank. On 11 April 1848, 31 laws were sanctioned by the emperor and they went down in history as the “April Laws,” broadly reflecting the revolutionary claims of 3 March. These laws represented, in fact, a new Constitution.3 The first independent Hungarian government was established on 12 April 1848, and was called “the Batthyány Cabinet,”4 after the name of the prime minister. Here, Lajos Kossuth, as minister of finance, played a key role in try- ing to gain independence in the organization and management of state finances, considering the fact that he took over an almost empty treasury.5 So, to begin with, they sought to stabilize Hungary’s financial position by issuing their own banknotes and treasury bonds. At that time, throughout the Habsburg Empire, and obviously in Transylvania too, were circulating only banknotes issued by the Privileged Austrian National Bank starting with 1816.6 For this purpose, starting from the claim made under Section 9 during the Diet of 3 March 1848, concerning the establishment of a national bank, on 17 June 1848 Kossuth signed a convention with the Commercial Bank of Pest, which was thus granted the status of Central Bank by the Hungarian state. In accordance with this convention, the state undertook to provide the bank with an amount of gold and silver worth 5 million florins, and the bank was to issue on this basis banknotes worth 12.5 million florins.7 Despite the opposition of the Privileged Austrian National Bank, on 24 May 1848 the imperial government authorized the issuance of the first Hungarian banknotes, which circulated under the famous name of “Kossuth’s banknotes” (Kossuth-bankók). The total value of banknotes in circulation was 3,772,000 flo- rins, and in August a new issue worth 61 million florins was authorized, in denominations of 5, 10, 100 and 1,000 florins.8 Thus, the first banknotes were issued by the Commercial Bank of Pest, grant- ed the status of bank of issue, on 5 August 1848. Then came the issues of 1 Sep- tember 1848, represented by banknotes in denominations of 1, 5, 10 and 100 forints. The convertibility of these banknotes is proven by the printed text under their nominal value, which states the equivalence and the possibility of their exchange for silver coins, maintaining silver monometallism as a type of mon- etary system. For example on the front of the 1 forint banknote the text states: “This banknote will be accepted in all the states belonging to Hungary and by Transsilvanica • 77 all public pay offices as 1 florin in silver, three zwanzigers being one florin: and its whole nominal value is guaranteed by the state.” The issuance continued throughout 1849; on 1 March, banknotes of 1, 2 and 10 forints, along with banknotes of 1 gulden were issued and put into circula- tion. Due to a shortage of fractional coins in monetary circulation, paper money of 10, 15 and 30 kreuzers (10 pengø krajczárra; 15 pengø krajczárra; 30 pengø krajczárra), began to be issued on 1 August 1849. On the new banknotes, the text in Latin or German was replaced with a text in Hungarian. These banknotes came into circulation in Transylvania (the printed text below the nominal value mentions the obligation to accept them in all territories belonging to Hungary; the nominal values of the banknotes were also inscribed in Cyrillic letters, es- pecially for Transylvania), the most commonly used in commercial exchanges being the ones of 1, 2, 5, 10 and 100 forints. With the defeat of the revolution of 1848–49, a new stage in the history of the Habsburg Empire began—the neo-absolutist one. After a period of intense turmoil, which considerably weakened the imperial power and questioned the very existence of the multinational Habsburg state, there came a return to peace and stability, strengthening the foundations of some structures which in many cases had proven their fragility. The means used to achieve this led to a strong centralization, which became excessive, given that it ignored the particularities of the local context. Thus, it aimed to solve problems through measures or- dered by the Court and its related bodies, and implemented by a complicated bureaucratic system, reinforced by the military authority. This is an era when a vast reorganization was devised and attempted, especially on an administrative and judiciary level, but the many decrees and ordinances lead to modest results. Similar attempts at reorganization concerned the economic, social and cultural fields, and included the patents for the abolition of Land Register relations, provisions instituting the principle of free competition, or the reorganization of education. The strict , the exceptional laws and the judicial bodies aimed to apply them, as well as the fear of another set of revolutionary events, all complete the picture of a regime which is generally associated with its principal promoter, Alexander von Bach.9 Ludwig von Wohlgemuth was tasked with implementing the first measures of the new regime in Transylvania, in his capacity as governor and commander of the imperial troops in the country, along with Edward Bach, who served as com- missioner for civil matters.10 The military commander and the district commis- sioner for civil affairs were responsible for restoring and maintaining the political order, ensuring the security of property and people, publicizing and applying the laws. Along with the disarmament of the masses, the seizure of goods belonging 78 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) to the revolutionaries and the organization of reprisals against them, these local administrative bodies also supervised the elimination of the banknotes issued by the Hungarian revolution during the early neo-absolutist regime.11 After the defeat of the revolution, the withdrawal of Kossuth’s banknotes (due to their cancellation) meant major losses for the population of Transylvania:

. . . the late merchant D. Sterie Arsenie from Preurbiu has bequeathed to the school belonging to the great holy church of St. Nicholas 2,500 fl.w.w. (Wiener Währung), i.e. two thousand five hundred florins, which were collected by the ad- ministration in 1849, when the Hungarians were masters in Braºov. The treasury cashier of the Holy Church, Nicolae Dumitru, identified 10 Hungarian banknotes of 100 fl.c.c. (Convention currency) each, and because these banknotes were in danger, they could only exchange seven of them, with the loss of 225 fl.v.c. (Vienna currency) and the other three, along with other lower denomination that remained in the amount of 1,053 fl.12

Counterrevolutionary actions also involved considerable expenses, the Austrian currency entering a new crisis. The total value of new Austrian banknotes in circulation at a forced rate, until the end of 1849, was 242.8 million florins. The silver coins and the lower denominations again disappeared from circulation. Starting with 1854, only the banknotes of the Privileged Austrian National Bank were kept in circulation throughout the monarchy.

The Monetary Convention between Austria and the Countries of the German Customs Union (Zollverein)

he Vienna Monetary Convention (Treaty) (also known as the Vienna Coinage Treaty), concluded on 24 January 1857 between Austria and the T states of the German Customs Union (Zollverein), brought some changes to the monetary system of the monarchy, except for the silver standard, which was maintained. These changes had effects on the money circulation in Transyl- vania and included the generalization of the decimal system and the issue of vari- ous types of coins: the main national currency (Austrian florin) and union silver coins (Vereinsthaler); commercial gold and silver coins; fractional silver and brass coins, in compliance with the obligation to maintain their divisional character. The conclusion of the convention was a very important moment in the reor- ganization and modernization of the monetary system of the Habsburg monar- Transsilvanica • 79 chy, and therefore had important consequences on money circulation in Tran- sylvania. In order to consolidate the currencies of the states participating in the Mon- etary Convention, Article 22 regarding the issue of paper money forbade the setting of a forced rate, introducing the obligation of their convertibility upon presentation and at any time into the main silver coin (standard) of that respec- tive state, as of 1 January 1859. The right to issue banknotes was granted either to the state, or to an institution empowered by the state, but only provided that they would observe the obligation of ensuring their convertibility into silver. This article was aimed primarily at Austria, which was thus required to restore the convertibility of banknotes, which the Privileged Austrian National Bank, as a bank of issue, had given up since 1848. For this reason, issued banknotes were to have written on them the value in standard coin. Otherwise, when paper money lacked coverage in silver coin (a frequent situation especially in times of war), the issue was suspended. The removal of the forced exchange rate for paper money and the keeping in circulation of only a limited amount in such currency, fully covered in silver coin, were to be made no later than 1 January 1859. Austria, which was referred to explicitly, criticized this decision, considering it prohibitive, and ruled in fa- vor of each state’s right to introduce the forced rate of banknotes. We can say that this monetary union was a metallic union, since the free circulation of issuing banks’ banknotes from one country to another was not stipulated by the convention. The Monetary Convention was adopted for a period of twenty years, with the automatic right of renewal for five more years, provided that it would not be denounced by one of the parties two years before the deadline. The parties had the right to control one another regarding the compliance with the provisions of the convention, the compliance with technical minting conditions, the number of coins that were to be minted etc.

The Transition from the Convention Currency System to the Austrian Currency System13

s a consequence of the Monetary Convention of 24 January 1857, in the same year, on 19 September, Austria issued a 22 article patent, A which reorganized and modernized the monetary system of the monar- chy. A new currency system was introduced and, at the same time, the money 80 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) issued under the terms of the convention currency system was gradually with- drawn from circulation. Another patent—the imperial patent of 27 April 1858—reinforced the intro- duction of the new currency system, the Austrian currency system, starting with 1 November 1858. As a result, the new currency and the other monetary signs to be minted and issued in accordance with the previous imperial patent of 19 September 1857 were introduced in circulation and used, as stipulated by the Monetary Convention of 24 January 1857. Yet another patent—the patent of 30 August 1858—amended the bank’s privilege to issue in accordance with the stipulations of the Monetary Convention. At the same time, by this last patent, the notes issued by the Privileged Aus- trian National Bank were given, for the first time, the quality of legal tender (in 1848 this quality had been assigned to them only provisionally),14 at their nominal value, which made their acceptance obligatory not only for the public pay offices, but also for payments between individuals. Furthermore, the coverage metal stock of the Privileged Austrian National Bank was regulated for the first time. It was stated that the notes issued and put into circulation after 1 November 1858 were to be covered at least in propor- tion of one third with metal stock, coins or silver ingots, or even a part in coins or gold ingots, and the remaining two thirds with bills of exchange and other such valuables. The evidence of the application of these monetary changes in Transylvania is also found in the account of George Bariþiu,15 where the transition from the Convention florin to the Austrian florin is obvious: “Around 1855, Rosetti sub- mited to the bishopric in Sibiu one thousand florins, counted, in Convention currency, to offer an award for the best Romanian History . . . In 1860, coming to Braºov, he counted 100 florins, in Austrian currency, in the accounts of the Romanian schools; . . . he exchanged the prize for three other translations of ancient authors, namely 1,000 florins, in Austrian currency, for Tacitus, and 500 florins, in Austrian currency, for Suetonius and Jordanes.” The following texts are also representative for the transition from the Con- vention currency to the Austrian currency. Moreover, they capture aspects of the reality of those times regarding the Romanian press in Transylvania, religious life, the support offered to school education in the Romanian language, etc. “In the same year, the fund of the ‘Gazette’ is slowly established, while in Cluj one Hungarian newspaper, Korunk (Our Age), received 400 florins in Austrian cur- rency, an annual grant from that aristocratic party.”16 “From the figures mentioned by Babeº can be noted that in 1861 the Mocioni family had given out 2,550 florins in Austrian currency for grants of 340, 200, 120, 60, 50 florins to 16 young people, and two others were individu- Transsilvanica • 81 ally supported for all their needs. Likewise, in 1862 they gave out 2,450 florins in Austrian currency to the two dependents.”17 Although concluded for a period of 20 years, with the right of extension for further 5-year terms, following disputes between the two parties over suprema- cy within the Customs Union, this Monetary Convention was absolished, losing its validity as of 1 January 1868. As to the controversial issue of the convertibility of Austrian banknotes (point 2 of the patent stipulated the obligation to reintroduce the convertibility of pa- per money in the legal tender coin of the country—the silver Austrian currency at that time), their forced rate was suspended only between 1 September 1858 and 29 April 1859. This decision was reversed because of the increased need for money, showing that, in case of war, the forced rate was almost unavoidable. Moreover, the imperial patent of 28 April 1859 provided for a secured loan with state bonds to the bank of issue, worth 200,000,000 florins, in exchange for suspending the convertibility of banknotes,18 the latter issuing banknotes in denominations of 1 and 5 florins to cover the loan.19 Thus, the guarantee for this paper money was not coins, but nonconvertible treasury bills. The suspension of the forced rate and then the return to it resulted in a loss of silver coins in the country, especially thalers, the numerous conversion requests being due to the agio of silver, silver beginning to prevail as compared to the signs of value in the circulation ever since 1848. Objections were raised concerning the impossibility of maintaining the con- vertibility of banknotes and especially the introduction into circulation of paper money in the form of state notes with mandatory rates: “But what do noblemen care of the state of finances? The press for printing paper money was right there and an act for the introduction of the forced rate could get it going without great difficulty. Let nobody dare say that they would not receive paper money in everyday transactions—there are plenty of empty prisons.”20 On top of all this, the currency depreciation, caused by the economic crisis which broke out in Europe in 1857, was also felt in Transylvania: “The great commercial crisis of 1857–1858 caused about 15 houses [companies] to col- lapse, half of which were Romanian, with liabilities falling by 30–70–170 to 190,000 florins in Austrian currency, and 100 thousand in Braºov worth 500 thousand in Vienna.”21 Moreover, the banknotes of 1, 2 and 5 Convention florins, issued with the consent of the imperial government in 1848, breached the privilege of the Cen- tral Bank, which had prohibited the circulation of banknotes with the face value below 10 fl. They continued to circulate at a mandatory rate even after 1858. The only restriction was capping their volume to 100,000,000 florins and their replacement by the end of 1859 with banknotes of the new Austrian cur- 82 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) rency system.22 However, there were attempts to restore the convertibility of banknotes. Thus, on the basis of the imperial patent of 27 December 1862, the Central Bank was granted a renewed privilege of banknote issue, the third right of issue (drittes Privilegium). The most significant innovation was restoring and fixing the independence of the bank of issue in relation to the government. Furthermore, the changes to the bank status were also aimed at the problem of covering the issue and amending the provisions of the imperial patent of 30 August 1858 regarding the regulation of the metal guarantee of the bank of issue. Under the Bank Law, analogous to Peel’s Act (1844), regarding a new cover- age system, the maximum amount of banknotes issued by the Privileged Austri- an National Bank and put into circulation without monetary coverage was set at 200,000,000 Austrian florins. The banknotes issued over this limit would have an express metal coverage in silver coins or ingots, and a proportion of 25% in gold coins or ingots. At the same time, the issued banknotes whose value exceeded the amount of the metal reserve were to have coverage in bills of exchange, discounted or guaranteed through bonds issued by the state. In conclusion, the efforts to restore the convertibility of banknotes, albeit incomplete, resulted in: • the decrease by the bank of issue of the number of banknotes in circulation by 5.25% in 1864, as compared to 1863; 6.58% in 1865 as compared to 1864 and respectively 19.11% in 1866 as compared to 1865, representing a decrease of 39.5% in 1866 as compared to 1863; • the increase of the metal reserve of the bank of issue, which can be judged by the proportion of banknotes covered with metal stock, a percentage that ranged as follows: 28.37% in 1863; 29.85% in 1864; 34.61% in 1865 and respectively 36.62% in 1866; • the increase in the degree of coverage of banknotes with securities: 0.14% in 1863; 1.38% in 1864; 2.34% in 1865 and 15.33% in 1866. However, the efforts of the bank of issue were thwarted by the fact that the metal stock of coverage was totally insufficient, due to the withdrawal from circulation of the silver coins for the purpose of hoarding. This withdrawal was caused by the agio of silver, so the number of banknotes that circulated at a forced rate, although it declined during the studied period, remained at a very high level. The manner in which the banknotes in circulation were guaranteed at the date of cancellation of the Monetary Convention varied according to their face value (high and low), with metal stock and non-convertible treasury bills, re- spectively. Transsilvanica • 83

At the end of 1866, nothing was left of the independence established by the Bank Act, or of the ban on banknotes issue by the state reserve. Moreover, at that time, along with banknotes issued by the bank of issue, there was a con- siderable amount of florins in state notes and salt mine vouchers in circulation. The state notes, as paper money, had entered into circulation in the since 1860, but the regulation which marks the adoption of state notes is considered to be the imperial patent of 25 August 1866. According to it, the total allowable amount of state notes in circulation was fixed at 312,000,000 florins, and the salt mine vouchers at 100,000,000. In case the issue of the latter did not reach the value of 100,000,000 florins, the difference could be covered with state notes issued over the allowable limit of 312,000,000 florins. As can be seen in Table 1, at the end of 1866 the total value of paper money, including the total value of banknotes from the bank of issue, state notes and salt mine vouchers, was as follows23:

Table 1. Total value of paper money (banknotes, state notes, salt mine vouchers) at the end of 1866

Banknotes State notes Salt mine Total

(fl.) (fl.) vouchers (fl.) paper money (fl.) 12,000,000 150,000,000 284,000,000 100,000,000 60,000,000 90,000,000 Total 284,000,000 312,000,000 100,000,000 696,000,000 (absolute value) % 40.80 44.83 14.37 100

Source: Costin C. Kiriþescu, Sistemul bãnesc al leului ºi precursorii lui, vol. 2 (Bucharest: Ed. En- ciclopedicã, 1997), 328.

From the total amount of paper money in circulation at that time (696,000,000 florins), it can be noted that the largest share was given to state notes, namely 44.83%, representing the maximum limit allowed by the imperial patent, fol- lowed by the banknotes of the bank of issue, at 40.8%, and salt mine vouchers, representing 14.37%. 84 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Conclusions

t the end of this sinuous monetary, economic and historic itinerary of paper money around the time of the establishment of the Austro- AHungarian dualism, without claiming to have exhausted the full range of characteristic aspects of this problem, we synthesized a series of conclusions. Starting with the transition from commodity money to money as a sign of value—a significant process for what paper money represents from a monetary and economic point of view—we identified a series of consequences for the economy and the money circulation in the Habsburg Empire and implicitly in Transylvania: the replacement of the private status of the currency with the public one, the latter requiring a strict control over the creation of the monetary instrument; the establishment of the bank of issue; the increased influence of the bank of issue as the main monetary authority, due to the faith given to it by the banknotes users; the reduction of the costs of production of a new type of money; the liaison with the monetary metal (also as the monetary standard) in the reserve bank of issue in order to impose the new monetary instrument in money circulation, with all the functions of money; the introduction of convert- ibility; the use of banknotes is supported by the mechanism of convertibility. The revolutionary events of 1848 led, in monetary terms, to a sharp deterio- ration in the coverage stock of the bank of issue, following the conversion of a large number of banknotes into coins by their owners, which led the Privileged Austrian National Bank to issue the so-called salt mine vouchers (Salinenschei­ ­ ne), guaranteed with the incomes from some state salt mines in Austria. Despite all opposition from the Austrian bank of issue, the imperial govern- ment authorized the issue of the first Hungarian banknotes, which circulated in Transylvania until their final withdrawal, along with the defeat of the revolution, under the name of “Kossuth-bankók.” The adoption of the Monetary Convention, concluded between Austria and the countries of the German Customs Union on 24 January 1857, represented an important moment in the reorganization and modernization of the mon- etary system of the monarchy and therefore had important consequences on money circulation in Transylvania. A shift occurred from the Convention cur- rency system to the Austrian currency system. Regarding the paper money, the provisions of the Convention prohibited the setting of a forced rate, introducing mandatory convertibility in silver coin (the standard of the monetary system), the metal stock of coverage of the Privileged Austrian National Bank being reg- ulated for the first time. Despite these provisions and efforts of the bank of is- sue, as a result of the insufficient metal stock coverage the number of banknotes circulating at a forced rate remained very high. Transsilvanica • 85

We can conclude that around the year 1867, marking the end of the analyzed period, along with the banknotes issued by the bank of issue, a considerable amount of florins as state notes and salt mine vouchers was in circulation. q

Notes

1. ªtefan Pascu, ed., Istoria Clujului (Cluj-Napoca: Consiliul Popular al Municipiului Cluj, 1974), 142. 2. Dr. C. Diaconovich, Enciclopedia Românã publicatã din însãrcinarea ºi sub auspiciile Asociaþiunii pentru Literatura Românã ºi Cultura Poporului Român, vol. 2 (Sibiu: Editura ºi Tiparul lui W. Krafft, 1900), 529. 3. Jean Carpentier and François Lebrun, eds., Istoria Europei, trans. Al. Skultety (Bu- charest: Humanitas, 1997), 285. 4. John R. Barber, Istoria Europei moderne, trans. Daniela Truþia (Bucharest: Lider, 1993), 207. 5. A. J. P. Taylor, Monarhia Habsburgicã 1809–1918: O istorie a Imperiului Austriac ºi a Austro-Ungariei, trans. Cornelia Bucur (Bucharest: Allfa, 2000), 98. 6. Virginia Hewitt, ed., The Banker’s Art: Studies in Paper Money (London: British Museum Press, 1995), 38. 7. Costin C. Kiriþescu, Sistemul bãnesc al leului ºi precursorii lui, vol. 1 (Bucharest: Ed. Enciclopedicã, 1997), 128. 8. Ibid., 128–129. 9. Taylor, 218. 10. Helmut Klima, Guvernatorii Transilvaniei 1774–1867 (Sibiu: Tip. Cartea Româneas- cã din Cluj, 1943). 11. Lajos Ürmössy, Kolozsvár kereskedelme és ipara története (Kolozsvár: Nyomatott Har- math J. könyvnyomdájában Tordán, 1898), 9. 12. National Archives of Romania, Braºov County Service, “1854, aprilie 25, Protocol de însemnare a ultimelor danii destinate ºcolilor româneºti braºovene” (15 April 1854, Protocol of registering the last donations granted to Romanian schools of Braºov). 13. This section is made based on imperial patent of 19 September 1857, Gazeta Tran- silvaniei (Braºov) 91, 92, 93 (1857): 361–369. 14. “Patenta Imperialã din 30 August 1858,” Gazeta Transilvaniei 31 (2 September 1858): 369–371. 15. Georgie Bariþiu, Parti alese din Istori’a Transilvaniei: Pre doue sute de ani din urma, vol. 1 (Sibiu: Tip. W. Kraft, 1889), 188. 16. Gazeta Transilvaniei 77 (1861), 4. 17. George Bariþiu, Foaie pentru minte, inimã ºi literaturã (Braºov) 38 (1862): 2. 18. “Ordinul Ministrului de Finanþe din 29 Aprilie 1859,” Gazeta Transilvaniei 69 (1859): 341–365. 19. “Patenta imperialã din 28 Aprilie 1859,” Gazeta Transilvaniei 68 (1858): 133–134. 86 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

20. Georgie Bariþiu, Parþi alese din Istori’a Transilvaniei: Pe doue sute de ani din urma, vol. 2 (Sibiu: Tip. W. Kraft, 1890), 380–381. 21. Gazeta Transilvaniei 131 (2 September 1858): 369. 22. Kiriþescu, 1: 171. 23. Ibid., 1: 269.

Abstract Early Banknotes of the Habsburg Empire and Their Circulation in Transylvania Until the Establishment of the Austro-Hungarian Dualism

The study of the circulation of early banknotes issued in the context of the monetary developments and regulations in the Habsburg Empire, starting with the second half of the 18th century and un- til the rise of the Austro-Hungarian dualism, is structured in two parts. The present article follows the one entitled “Early Banknotes of the Habsburg Empire and Their Influence on Money Circu- lation in Transylvania,” Transylvanian Review 25, 3 (Autumn 2016). The novelty brought about by the revolutionary year 1848 was the issue and the introduction into circulation, in Transylvania too, of the banknotes of the first independent Hungarian government (Batthyány Cabinet), called “Kossuth-bankók,” amid the instability of the Privileged Austrian National Bank, followed by all the monetary and economic consequences of its defeat. In the final part of the article are presented the terms of the Monetary Convention (Treaty)(1857) drawn up between Austria and the coun- tries of the German Customs Union (Zollverein), the paper money being under the obligation of convertibility upon presentation, at any time, into the main silver standard coin of the empire. The signing of the dualist compromise between Austria and Hungary would trigger important changes in the structure of the monetary system.

Keywords banknotes, silver standard, bank of issue, monetary circulation, Monetary Convention (Treaty), treasury bills Changes in the Leadership of the Petru Maior Student Center of Cluj M a ri a G hitt a (Spring 1923)

Between 26 April and 1 May 1923 a rather unusual and somewhat myste- rious change of leadership took place at the Petru Maior Student Center of Cluj. Unusual, because no ordinary elections had been scheduled. Some- what mysterious, because there are no minutes of the meetings that might have taken place during this brief inter- val for the designation of a new leader- ship. At any rate, the documents kept in the archives of the Center indicate that on 26 April the organization was chaired by George (Gheorghe) Alexa, a law student, elected in early Febru- Ion I. Moþa’s candidacy application for ary; on 1 May, however, it was led by the leadership of the committee of the Petru Maior Student Center (Lucian Blaga Ion I. Moþa, as its ‘ad-hoc’ chairman. Central University Library of Cluj-Napoca, A non-statutory chairman was Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5993) hardly ideal for an association such as Petru Maior. After moving to Cluj in 1919, after many years of activity in Maria Ghitta Budapest (since 1862), the association Researcher at the Center for Transylva- had actively sought to organize itself nian Studies, Romanian Academy. Co­ editor of the vol. Dilemele convieþuirii: and operate on the basis on clearly 1 Evrei ºi neevrei în Europa Central-Rãsã­ defined statutes. The statute adopted riteanã/Dilemmes de la cohabitation: in December 1921 stipulated that the Juifs et Non-Juifs en Europe centrale­ Center was to be led by a “committee orientale (2006). elected for the duration of one aca- 88 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) demic year, in the first semester of the academic year” (art. 20, chap. VII). For the election of a new committee, the old one had to be officially discharged fol- lowing an activity report. The report was to be examined by a “supervisory com- mittee” operating for the duration of the elections. It was called upon to “verify the actions taken by the outgoing committee” and “chair the general elections,”2 thus ensuring their fairness. The election of the new representatives (15 in num- ber, with clearly defined attributions) had to be above suspicion, as they needed to be accepted by both students and the university authorities. Their names and positions were notified, in the press or through special letters, to all relevant institutions (the University Senate, foreign and domestic student organizations, etc.). The new committee was instituted during an official ceremony, as indi- cated by a press release dated 25 March 1922 and sent to the local newspapers: “On Sunday 2, 1 c. (April) at 11.00 the Great Hall of the university will host the festive inauguration of the committee of the Petru Maior Student Center.” The note specified that “this activity is to become a tradition in the student life of Cluj” and that the ceremony was “to be chaired by the rector, with the deans and all the students in attendance.” Indicating that the ceremony was to be a solemn one and that it had been prepared in minute detail, there was even a mention of the songs that were to be sung: “Gaudeamus, The Tricolor, and On Our Flag.”3 If in the spring of 1922 such a festive occasion could be held in the Great Hall of the university, in the presence of those listed above, the situation would be totally different the following year. The year 1922–1923 was itself an unusual one, and the student elections, not surprisingly, would be no different. After the comprehensive and sustained efforts requested by its founding and early activity, Cluj University was experi- encing a “mysterious”4 contrary trend, which sought the repeal and replacement of some existing rules. The anti-Semitic incidents that began in late November of 1922 in the laboratories of the Medical School expanded rapidly, eventu- ally paralyzing all activities at Cluj University and in other similar institutions throughout the country. As early as 30 November, barely two or three days after the first incidents, the Petru Maior Student Center began to coordinate the actions of the students. A memorandum sent to the Senate included the following demands: “numerus clausus, a satisfactory solution to the issue regarding the dissection of cadavers, the Romanian language proficiency exams and admission exams for the Medical School, etc.”5 These demands, alongside the “social and cultural ones” (dormi- tories, canteens, scholarships, textbooks) would also be present in the memo- randum sent on 10 December to the government (Education Ministry) on the occasion of a large demonstration organized in the capital city and attended by representatives of all university centers in the country. The students clashed with the army, which further fanned the flames of the movement. As a national con- Transsilvanica • 89 sensus around the idea of a numerus clausus emerged rather rapidly, henceforth the universities began to compete in radicalism: no one was supposed to give an inch. Whenever some student representatives seemed willing to compromise, colleagues from other centers quickly made them toe the line. Whenever the situation in one university—such as Cluj, for instance—seemed about to return to normal, incidents occurred in Bucharest or Iaşi came to pour fuel on the fire. The leadership of the Petru Maior Center also experienced a number of chang- es after the conflicts broke out: “the previous committee chaired by Mr. Adam Popa resigned on 30 November.”6 In the meeting of 19 December, the chairman presented the activity report and explained his decision. “If he had nevertheless decided to resign, in the well-known circumstances, this was not because of a dif- ference in beliefs or feelings, but rather because the official approach of the previ- ous committee no longer coincided with the path chosen by the students on 30 November.”7 In fact, a few days later A. Popa would be one of the members of the small delegation that took the cause of the Cluj students to Bucharest. The new committee, called the “Alexa committee” on account of its chairman, was itself an offshoot of the recent events, of extraordinary circumstances that allowed no time for any ordinary rules of procedure. While the former committee had stepped down because it could not “officially” embrace the new agenda of the students, the new one was perfectly ready to do just that. In the evening of 22 December, “the students convened a non-statutory meeting, not on the premises of the university and not in the student residences.” On that occasion, they decided that “Chairman Alexa was to be the main delegate of the students in the future contacts with the authorities.”8 This brief notice in the official publication of the student movement shows us how the students operated and saw themselves. They had gathered in a “non-statutory” meeting, far from the “premises of the university.” Convened on 21 December, the University Senate acknowledged that the “pacification actions” had not been effective. Classes were still being disrupted, the Jewish students were prevented from attending, and the activity of the uni- versity was seriously affected. Consequently, the Senate decided to suspend all university activities beginning with the following day and banned any rally “on the premises of the university or in the student residences.”9 The upcoming win- ter holiday was expected to bring a necessary respite. It was not to be so. The resumption of activities faced numerous difficulties. The faculty and the students, the older generation and the youth, saw things rather differently. “The students are back in class. Some of them, however, are trying to decide whether they should sit down and learn something in earnest, or rather continue with this agitation that goes beyond the horizon of a youth getting ready to guide our public life towards civilization.” These words belong to one faculty member who believed he had the necessary authority to speak on the matter, being the author of a book titled Românii şi Evreii (Romanians and Jews). He believed that 90 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) the anti-Semitic agitation was part of “a political struggle . . . in which the Uni- versity cannot allow itself to be dragged, under any circumstances.”10 An anony- mous member of the young generation also spoke up in the days preceding the resumption of classes: “The government has rejected our main demands, but we shall not give in and once again demand loud and clear: Numerus clausus! The universities in our country must reopen with no kikes in them!”11 The two opinions briefly expressed above sum up the whole situation, fully illustrating the generation gap on the issue of anti-Semitism. The subsequent information was related to the ongoing negotiations with the government. In point of fact, throughout the protests, the university or government authorities were willing to accept many of the student demands, or indeed those that were economic or social in nature. However, they refused to entertain the idea of a numerus clausus, in keeping with the principles of free access to education and of equality between citizens.12 The only limitation of the access to education they were willing to consider applied to foreign citizens. The brief youthful outburst quoted by the publication of the Cluj students indicates what actually hid behind the requested threshold for Jews: “no kikes.” Thus, numerus clausus became numerus nullus. While the request to limit the access of Jews to the schools brought no official results, there were practical consequences of the student unrest: “The Jewish students seem utterly disheartened and avoid any contact with their Christian counterparts. Many of them have begun to leave the city.” According to some rough estimates, “about 50 percent may have already left.”13 Even so, reopening the university turned out to be very difficult indeed. In its meeting of 1 February 1923, “the Senate has decided to suspend all classes and practical activities in all faculties beginning with 2 February, until new orders are issued.”14 The incidents had taken place at the Medical School, and Rector Iacobovici declared that “the student demands can only be solved at legislative level, by the parliament. As to the university authorities, they did everything they could in keeping with the rules and regulations in force.”15 The events that had taken place in Bucharest during the same days had requested the firm intervention of the authorities. After massive unrest at the university and on the streets of the capital city between 30 January and 1 February, the relevant decisions were taken by “the Council of Ministers in the presence of the police .” They decided to “close down the university, the student dormitories and canteens, and prosecute the agitators, discontinue the legal benefits granted to students, and ban the publication Cuvântul studenþesc.”16 A number of stu- dents were subsequently arrested. The university authorities were presently exasperated by the lack of flexibil- ity shown by students, by their refusal to accept any compromise. As rational arguments (a whole academic year lost, at tremendous financial cost, negatively Transsilvanica • 91 impacting the activities of the following years, etc.)17 failed to work when faced with the youthful intransigence of the students, various explanations for this attitude began to emerge. The minutes of the meeting of the great academic council held in Bucharest, submitted for publication, contended that “the unrest began in Cluj, indicating the influence of foreign elements, inimical to our coun- try”; the same text “expresses the desire to open the universities to all citizens of Romania and rejects the numerus clausus.”18 In fact, Emil Pangratti, the rector of Bucharest University, also declared on a separate occasion that “the numerus clausus is out of the question. It is a purely Hungarian invention.”19 The discourse turned increasingly towards the political interference in the student movement or towards the political connotations acquired by the latter. The same Rector Pangratti argued: “an academic and economic movement has turned into a political one.”20 One of his counterparts in Cluj made the same observation: “The student movement has transcended the university and moved to a higher political plane,”21 deeming it relevant in the context of the adoption of the new Constitution.22 Some representatives of the students were already planning to politicize their demands. This is clearly indicated by the statements made by one student dele- gate upon his return to Cluj, after consultations held in Bucharest. Informing his colleagues about the decision to continue the struggle, he concluded: “Our last weapon—argued Mr. Moþa—is the recourse to parliament, and if they refuse, we shall continue the struggle by way of non-demagogic propaganda among voters, ensuring the election of those candidates whose program includes the numerus clausus.”23 The same meeting reconfirmed the previous decision “not to give in, even at the risk of losing the academic year,” and made an announce- ment about the organization of new elections. “There is little interest in such elections, given the absolute trust in the current committee.”24 Despite that, the committee established following the unrest at the end of the previous year insisted on holding new elections, as they needed legal validation. These elections took place in early February and G. Alexa remained chairman, this time after a proper ballot. In some notices regarding the newly elected com- mittee we find a handwritten addition indicating that Moþa was the archivist of the Center.25 The other such notices make no reference to him.26 Whatever the reason behind this discrepancy, the fact remains that Moþa was a fervent sup- porter of the cause. He had been doing editorial work at Dacia Nouã since the founding of the publication, in December. Also, as we have already seen, on certain occasions he had been the representative of the Cluj students (see note 23). His activity within the new committee would be anything but low profile. Quite quickly his talents as a publicist and future lawyer were put to work, in a memorandum addressed to the University Senate.27 In its meeting of 5 Febru- ary, the Senate had dealt an unexpected blow to the Petru Maior Center, decid- 92 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) ing to close it down. Arguing that the statutes of the organization infringed upon the provisions of a specific article (89 paragraph 2) in the University Code of Conduct, the Senate ruled that the assets and the archive of the Center were to be transferred to the university administration and allowed 15 days for the modification of any statutes of the student organization in keeping with the ex- isting regulations.28 The Senate was trying to regain some of the authority it had lost, using the bureaucratic arsenal. As the numerous calls for a peaceful return to class had been ignored, in the conflict with the students the Senate decided to rely on a specific article in the university regulations. The issue had to do with the presence in the leadership of the Petru Maior Center of students from other Cluj higher education institutions (the Commercial Academy and the Agrono- my School), whom the university authority could rightfully reject given their different institutional affiliation. This was also a precautionary measure against students “not belonging to our university,” whose participation in the protests had had a negative impact upon the activity of the institution.29 At any rate, on this issue the representatives of the Petru Maior Center showed a lot more will- ingness to cooperate with the university authorities than on the other divisive issues that troubled that academic year. On 14 March they petitioned the Sen- ate to “appoint a faculty commission that would discuss and identify, together with our representatives, a final solution to the issue regarding the statutes of the Society.”30 The Senate itself had rescinded the order disbanding the student association, “needing the authorized consent of the student body,” and therefore expected “calmer spirits and a solution to the existing situation.”31 Employing all possible methods, during this period the university authorities sought to come to an agreement with the students. As to the students themselves, they were weighing their options. The meet- ing of the Center’s committee of 17 February 1923 was held in the presence of “Mr. Zelea Codreanu, the delegate of the Iaşi students.” That year, receiving guests and sending delegates to consultations became common practice for the student organizations. This kept the communication channels open and ensured that the various university centers took similar decisions. The aforementioned guest, however, was no ordinary delegate. In actual fact, Zelea-Codreanu could not have represented the students of Iaşi, as he was no longer enrolled at that university. He was coming from Germany, where he had continued both his studies and his anti-Semitic activities.32 The Cluj students were familiar with what he had done while studying in Iaşi, and therefore extended to him a deferential welcome and requested his advice on how to proceed. Alexa, the chairman of the Center, envisaged two possibilities: a “peaceful return to class,” without however discarding a program that was to be carried on by way of “conferences and book clubs,” and an aggressive continuation of the struggle, “as we have waged it thus Transsilvanica • 93 far.” The latter option entailed the risk of “defection by some students.”33 When invited to express his opinion, the guest outlined a comprehensive project (which went beyond the confines of the university): “Our struggle goes beyond the uni- versity and should be taken to the great mass of Romanian citizens.” Thus, he envisaged a “great civic assembly” that would bring together “inhabitants from the various regions of Romania.” The four university cities were to become “four centers of national propaganda . . . which at one point could make it possible for us to have the core of a national organization in every town.”34 The two interven- tions come to highlight the difference in perspective between Alexa and Zelea- Codreanu and foreshadow the future achievements of the latter. Zelea-Codreanu did more than just attend some strategic meetings of the local student leaders. The students were set to work on the great white and black flags bearing the swastika and lined with the tricolor.35 A young lady, Elena Ilinoiu, contributed a lot to the making of these flags, signing receipts that indicate, in the accounting of the Petru Maior Center, the amounts spent on the “making of flags.”36 The lady in question was none other than the future wife of the staunch nationalist militant who was visiting Cluj at that time. Before biding him farewell, the naïve Alexa asked his guest: “When will these projects be carried out, right now or during the summer holiday? Mr. Zelea Codreanu: right away, for otherwise the government will adopt the Constitu- tion, and any action taken after that moment cannot bring the desired results.”37 The guest then went on to put his plans into practice, leaving Alexa with his dilemmas: return to class or fight on? As we have already seen, he was torn be- tween the two possible courses or action. In the weeks that followed, he seemed increasingly inclined to listen to those who advocated a return to class and the separation between the student and the political agendas. It was obvious (to those willing to accept reality) that the government and the parliament could not introduce measures that granted citizenship rights to the Jews (by adopting the new Constitution) and at the same time restrict their access to education (numerus clausus). The nationalist and anti-Semitic movements also understood very well that they had to take maximum advantage of this “student movement,” which is precisely what they did.38 During all this time (February–April), the leadership of the universities and the representatives of the Education Ministry did their best to persuade the students to drop their main demand (numerus clausus), accept the offer of the authorities and return to class. On several occasions, they seemed to come close to an agreement. The Senate meeting of 2 March 1923 made reference to the “agreement concluded between the student representatives and the delegates of the University Senate,” which would give “the true students the possibility to attend classes and not pointlessly waste an academic year.”39 Announcing the 94 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) reopening of the university, a local newspaper also indicated that “We should put a question mark after the title above. Indeed, of late our universities have resumed their activity so many times, only to suspend them completely the fol- lowing day.”40 The same happened on this occasion as well. The reopening announced for 16 April (after Easter) seemed finally certain, prepared in minute detail. The government announced additional funds for the universities: an additional 5 million lei for “dormitories and canteens,” “200 million to outfit existing labs and establish new ones”;41 Cluj was getting a new pediatric clinic, an institute of physiology, money for the libraries, one student dormitory, etc.42 But the government also threatened with reprisals: “Those stu- dents responsible for the unrest shall be expelled.”43 It seemed that an agreement with the students had finally been reached. In a meeting held before easter, the student delegates had declared themselves “happy with most of the solutions offered in response to their demands” and had accepted “out of patriotism, to drop the only unfulfilled and impossible claim: the introduction of a numerus clausus for schools.” However, they reserved the “right to continue the struggle outside the university, as citizens.”44 Praising them in such propaganda pieces for their “lofty national feelings” and “admirable sense of discipline,”45 every- body was seemingly courting the students in order to achieve the desired results. A meeting of the Senate ruled that “the deans shall notify the faculty members asking them to abstain from making any comments in connection to the recent events.46 The outcome? Identical. The universities failed to reopen!47 The situation in Cluj seemed better. While many students were still absent, at least there were no incidents. In fact, the medical students themselves were the most eager to return to class. If, in a way, they had started the whole story, pres- ently they were the most interested in ending a conflict that had gone beyond their original claims.48 In its meeting of 18 April, the committee of the Petru Maior Student Center discussed a letter of the Medical Students’ Society “requesting a plenary session of the Center which would decide on a resumption of classes”; should the re- quest be turned down, “the Society will proceed on its own.”49 The leadership crisis within the Petru Maior Center was becoming acute. Faced with the pos- sible withdrawal of a major student society, amid profound divergences within the committee (Alexa was accused of having mismanaged one particular meet- ing), on that very same day the chairman received the resignation of his secretary general, Victor Şuiagã. Nevertheless, at the request of its chairman, the com- mittee voted on the return to class, but the final decision was to be taken in a “plenary session of the Center.”50 In the meeting of 26 April Alexa handed in his resignation “because, according to him, the students have strayed from the righteous path, joining the organiza- Transsilvanica • 95 tions of Mr. Cuza, which are only meant to serve a personal and political agenda. I believe that continuing the struggle would tarnish our reputation.” After ini- tially urging him to reconsider, Moþa declared that “he and Mr. Alexa have parted ways” and continued with a phrase that contained both an affirmation and a nega- tion in regard to the main topic of that moment: “I am for a return to class but, for as long as the students in other university centers remain on strike, we can only follow suit.” The break was final and Alexa had been defeated. “The committee, with the exception of the chairman, endorses the proposal of Mr. Moþa.”51 The die had been cast, and in the planned plenary session of the Center, on 30 April, as Moþa himself declared, he was “elected ad-hoc chairman, but only for the ongoing meeting; therefore, we must quickly proceed with the election of the new chairman.”52 On 2 May he sent a letter to the rector, informing him about the changes occurred within “the Cluj student organization.” He indicated that the former chairman had resigned and that the committee “was still operational.” He also provided information on the upcoming procedures, the elections for the vacant positions in the committee and the election of the new chairman. The sig- nature read “Ion Moþa, ad-hoc chairman.”53 The rector was also informed that the same plenary session of 30 April had decided “by unanimous vote on complete solidarity with the other universities,” meaning that “no student would attend classes and they would prevent the Jews (the Jewish students) from entering the premises of the university.”54 Cluj University had rejoined the others! It also had its share of “violence and disturbances,” according to a report presented by the rector to the Senate in its meeting of 3 May. As a consequence, seven students were “expelled in perpetuity from Cluj University”; the “Esteemed Ministry” was requested “to ban them from the other Romanian universities.”55 One of the seven was Ion I. Moþa, the recently appointed ad-hoc chairman. q (Translated by Bogdan Aldea)

Notes 1. See Maria Ghitta, “Universitatea din Cluj, anul I Centrul Studenþesc Petru Maior,” in Istoria ca datorie: Omagiu academicianului Ioan-Aurel Pop la împlinirea vârstei de 60 de ani, eds. Ioan Bolovan and Ovidiu Ghitta (Cluj-Napoca: Academia Românã, Cen- trul de Studii Transilvane, 2015), 895–907; Ana-Maria Stan, “Forme de organizare ale Centrului studenþesc Petru Maior de la Universitatea din Cluj între 1919–1925,” in Societate şi civilizaþie: Profesorului universitar dr. Marcel Ştirban la împlinirea a şapte decenii de viaþã, eds. Cãlin Florea and Ciprian Nãprãdean (Târgu-Mureş: Dimitrie Cantemir, 2002), 598–621. 2. Lucian Blaga Central University Library of Cluj-Napoca (hereafter cited as cul-cn), Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5900, “Statutele Centrului Studenþesc Petru Maior din Cluj.” 96 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

3. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5851 (Condica maculaturilor), 25 March 1922 (“Instalarea festivã a Centrului Studenþesc”). 4. This is the word used to describe it—in a note dated 4 December 1922—by one of those who had contributed to the founding of Cluj University: Nicolae Iorga, Memorii, vol. 4, Încoronarea ºi boala Regelui 1922–1925 (Bucharest: Paul Editions, 2018), 25 (“The mysterious anti-Jewish unrest continues in Cluj. An absurd and demented undertaking”). 5. “Ce am fãcut pânã acum şi pentru ce,” Dacia Nouã (Cluj) 1, 1 (1932): 2. 6. “Ultimele hotãrâri,” Dacia Nouã 1, 1 (1932): 4. 7. Ibid. 8. “Informaþiuni,” Dacia Nouã 1, 1 (1932): 4. 9. National Archives, Directorate (hereafter cited as naccd), Fond Uni- versitatea din Cluj. Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 37 (meeting of 21 December 1922). 10. Gheorghe Bogdan-Duicã, “Lãmuriri studenþimei,” Patria (Cluj), 28 January 1923, p. 1. 11. “Murim mai bine-n luptã cu glorie deplinã,” Dacia Nouã 1, 6: 1. 12. During one of the meetings that the students and the authorities had in the spring of 1923, the education minister, Dr. C. Angelescu, allegedly rebuked his interlocutors for having wasted an academic year: “Nobody is forced to become a student, just like nobody can be prevented from becoming a student.” “Redeschiderea Univer- sitãþilor,” Înfrãþirea (Cluj), 12 April 1923, p. 1. 13. “Agitaþiile studenþeşti la Cluj continuã,” Înfrãþirea, 9 February 1923, p. 4. 14. naccd, Fond Universitatea din Cluj, Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 52. 15. “Închiderea Universitãþii din Cluj,” Patria, 3 February 1923, p. 1. 16. “Agravarea mişcãrilor studenþeşti,” Patria, 4 February 1923, p. 3. 17. For the unfortunate consequences of the students’ refusal to accept an agreement with the government (which promised them nearly everything with the exception of the numerus clausus), see Gh. Bogdan-Duicã, “Universitatea şi studenþimea: Un compromis,” Patria, 2 March 1923; see also “Mişcarea studenþeascã în þarã,” Înfrãþirea, 7 March 1923, p. 4. 18. “Conflictul studenþesc din Bucureşti,” Înfrãþirea, 28 February 1923, p. 3. 19. “Mişcarea studenþeascã în þarã,” Înfrãþirea, 7 March 1923, p. 4. 20. “Caracterul politic al mişcãrii studenþeşti,” Înfrãþirea, 15 March 1923, p. 3. 21. Bogdan-Duicã, “Universitatea şi studenþimea,” p. 1. 22. The Constitution adopted by Romania on 29 March 1923 was the first fundamental law that granted civil rights to the Jewish population. 23. “Întrunirea de asearã a studenþimii din Cluj,” Înfrãþirea, 3 February 1923, p. 3. The discussion concerning “the expulsion of the Jews who came to the country after the Union, and the decision to raise this with the authorities” demonstrate that the stu- dents’ concerns went beyond the university agenda. Gradually, the “student move- ment” took up elements from the broader anti-Semitic agenda. 24. Ibid. Transsilvanica • 97

25. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5593, no. 43/11.02.1923 (to the Aurel Vlaicu Academic Society of Turin), no. 42/11.02.1923 (to the Romanian Students Associa- tion in Berlin). 26. For instance, in the one sent to the Dacia Traianã Academic Society of Rome, an- nouncing “the creation of the committee of our Center for the current academic year.” cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5851, no. 17/1923, p. 39 r–v. 27. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5851, “Memoriu Onoratului Senat Universitar” (7 February 1923). 28. naccd, Fond Universitatea din Cluj, Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 54 r–v. 29. See also an April meeting where it was decided to convene a general meeting of the Student Center, “provided that attendance is limited to the students properly enrolled in the University.” naccd, Fond Universitatea din Cluj, Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 85 v (meeting of 13 April 1923). 30. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5851, no. 68/1923, letter of 14 March 1923. 31. “Ordinul de desfiinþare a centrului studenþesc ‘Petru Maior’ a fost retras,” Înfrãþirea, 4 March 1923, p. 3. 32. Oliver Jens Schmitt summed up this brief episode in the life of Codreanu with the phrase “anti-Semitic missionary in Germany.” See his book Corneliu Zelea Codreanu: Ascensiunea şi cãderea “Capitanului” (Bucharest: Humanitas, 2017), 62–64. 33. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 6011, minutes of the committee meeting of the Petru Maior Student Center, 17 February 1923. 34. Ibid. 35. Codreanu provides a detailed description of such flags, displayed several days lat- er (on March 4) in Iaşi, where the foundations of the National Christian Defense League (ncdl) were laid: “The flags were black, as a sign of mourning; in the center, a round white circle stood for our hopes . . ., the white circle circumscribed a swas- tika, the symbol of the anti-Semitic struggle all over the world, and along all sides of the flag, the Romanian tricolor.” See Corneliu Zelea-Codreanu, Pentru legionari (Sibiu: Ed. Totul pentru þarã, 1936), 119. A few pages earlier he indicates that such a flag was made in Cluj, and “in the house of Captain Şiancu” “we all took an oath on that flag.” Ibid., 116. 36. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5988, receipt of 19 February 1923, signed by Elena Ilinoiu (“327 lei received from Mr. Crâşmariu to cover the cost of the follow- ing materials used in the making of the flags: 2m black satin—120 lei; 1 m white satin—39 lei; 12 m tricolor—120 lei; 3 spools of thread—48 lei”); another receipt, not dated, signed by Elena Ilinoiu (received from the same Crâşmariu “for the mak- ing of flags: 19.75 m tricolor—197.50 lei; 5 m black satin—275 lei; 2 m white satin—70 lei; total 542.50 lei”). 37. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 6011, Proces-verbal, 17 February 1923. 38. For the creation of the National Christian Defense League (ncdl), see Armin Heinen, Legiunea “Arhanghelul Mihail”: Miºcarea socialã ºi organizaþie politicã: O contribuþie la problema fascismului internaþional, trans. Cornelia and Delia Eºianu (Bucharest: Humanitas, 1999), 112. The “Romanian Action” was established in Cluj, on 7 June 98 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

1923: see Maria Ghitta, “Un episod timpuriu din organizarea naþionalismului in- terbelic: ‘Acþiunea Româneascã’ (1923–1925),” in Spiritualitate şi culturã europeanã: Volum dedicat Profesorului Ladislau Gyémánt la împlinirea vârstei de 60 de ani, eds. Alina Branda, Ion Cuceu, and Claudia Ursuþiu (Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitarã Clujeanã & Ed. Fundaþiei pentru Studii Europene, 2007), 103–114. 39. naccd, Fond Universitatea din Cluj, Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 67 (meeting of 2 March 1923). 40. “Se redeschid universitãþile,” Înfrãþirea, 2 March 1923, p. 3 41. “Redeschiderea universitãþilor,” Înfrãþirea, 3 April 1923, p. 1. 42. “Îmbunãtãþirea situaþiei studenþimii,” Înfrãþirea, 17 April 1923, p. 1. 43. “Deschiderea Universitãþilor,” Patria, 1 April 1923, p. 3. 44. “O hotãrâre înþeleaptã,” Înfrãþirea, 13 April 1923, p. 3. 45. Ibid. 46. naccd, Fond Universitatea din Cluj, Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 85 (meeting of 13 April 1923). 47. “Great turmoil yesterday at Bucharest University” (“Agitaþia studenþimii,” Patria, 19 April 1923, p. 3); or, on the same page: “Iaşi University remains closed . . . the students have barricaded themselves inside the university.” 48. “Noua fazã a conflictului universitar,” Înfrãþirea, 22 April 1923, p. 3. 49. cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 6011, Proces-verbal, 18 April 1923. 50. Ibid. 51. Ibid., 26 April 1923. 52. Ibid., 1 May 1923. 53. Ibid., Ms. 5851, “Adresã cãtre Rector” (2 May 1923). 54. Ibid. 55. naccd, Fond Universitatea din Cluj, Şedinþele Senatului Universitar, file 4, p. 98 v (meeting of 3 May 1923).

Abstract Changes in the Leadership of the Petru Maior Student Center of Cluj (Spring 1923)

The paper discusses a rather unusual change of leadership that took place at the Petru Maior Stu- dent Center of Cluj between 26 April and 1 May 1923, in the absence of any statutory elections. The change was related to the student unrest triggered by the anti-Semitic incidents occurred in late November of 1922 in the laboratories of the Medical School, which expanded rapidly, even- tually paralyzing all activities at Cluj University and in other similar institutions throughout the country. The student movement quickly acquired a political dimension, largely due to the involve- ment and activity of Ion I. Moþa and Corneliu Zelea-Codreanu.

Keywords anti-Semitism, Cluj University, , student unrest, numerus clausus, Ion I. Moþa, Corneliu Zelea-Codreanu Receipts signed by Elena Ilinoiu: the one on the left is dated 19 February 1923, the one on the right bears no date (cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5988)

Notice to the Romanian Students’ Association in Berlin, announcing the new committee of the Center, 11 February 1923 (cul-cn, Fond “Petru Maior,” Ms. 5551) Under the Sign of Malnutrition Economic and Propaganda Policies

g a b ri e l m o i s a in Romania at the End of the 1980s. c o ri n a m o i s a Case Study: Bihor County

The history of the communist pe- riod in Romania must be written in the spirit of truth, otherwise the conclu- sions can be considerably distorted.1 Historical researches on the period are numerous, but critically assumed analyses, not bearing the imprint of the times, are nevertheless difficult to achieve. The present study proposes an interesting discussion about the economic policies of the communist regime in its last years and their con- sequences on a part of Transylvania, a very special territory of the Romanian space,2 even in times of hardship.3 The last decade of the communist regime in Romania was a very com- plicated one due to the economic cri- sis that led to drastic reductions in the supply of the population with prod- Gabriel Moisa ucts necessary for daily living. This Professor at the Faculty of History, Inter- caused severe problems in an everyday national Relations, Political and Commu- life marked by the absence of food on nication Sciences, University of Oradea. the market, leading to serious health Corina Moisa problems due to malnutrition. This Lecturer at the Faculty of Medicine and situation developed gradually, but, by Pharmacy, University of Oradea. the end of the 1980s, things turned for Transsilvanica • 101 the worse. Even if this aspect was known by the supervisory structures, mainly the , measures to improve the situation were taken only after the fall of the communist regime. Amid continuous rumors about the “decadent” West which “exploited” Ro- mania through its international financial institutions, primarily the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, the population’s expectations were very high at the beginning of 1989 when, on 31 March 1989, at the meeting of the Political Executive Committee of the Central Committee of the , it was announced that Romania had managed to pay off its external debt. When Nicolae Ceauşescu made the announcement at this meeting, he took by surprise even the members of the Central Committee who were not aware of the current stage in the payment of the country’s foreign debt.4 The head of state emphasized the special effort made to pay off this external debt. Thus, he said, “in 1980, we had 11–12 billion dollars. At the beginning of the year we had 1,150 million dollars.”5 The information was not intended for the general public and it was meant to have a confidential character. The moment had to be very well prepared from a propagandistic point of view in order to become another catalyzing and mobilizing element for an exhausted population that would then rally around its leader. In this context, Nicolae Ceauşescu told those present that “we shall discuss this issue at the plenary and at the Great National Assembly, and then we shall make it public, we shall not give it to the press now.”6 The triumphant way in which he presented the situation made everyone think that Romania would embark upon a completely different path from an economic point of view. The news would be announced a few days later, on 12 April 1989, at the Plenary Meeting of the Central Committee of the Romanian Communist Party. The next day, Scînteia (The Sparkle) newspaper informed the population about this great achievement7 and numerous festivities were held all over the country to mark this great event. At the session of the Great National Assembly that was convened a few days later, on 17–18 April 1989, Nicolae Ceauşescu was acclaimed by all the deputies in their quality of representatives of the people. Thus, the premise for raising the standard of living was created, since, ac- cording to Nicolae Ceauşescu, the payment of the external debt finally marked the beginning of “Romania’s complete economic and political independence”8 and, according to the same leader, “for the first time in its long history, Romania has no external debt, no longer pays tribute to anyone, and is truly indepen- dent—both economically and politically.”9 Nicolae Ceauşescu informed the public opinion about the figures of the ex- ternal payments. Thus, he said, 102 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

at the end of March, we paid off the country’s external debt, which in 1980 rose to over 11 billion dollars. Completely. From 1975 till March 1989 we paid about 21 billion dollars, of which the interest represents over 7 billion dollars. This does not include the debt we had in rubles, which we paid off a long time ago. At present, our country has to collect over 2.5 billion dollars from the credits extended to different states. Paying the external debt has undoubtedly required great sacrifices. We had to act in such a way as to ensure both the general development of the country and the gradual payment of the entire debt during this period and to take the necessary measures for the continuous strengthening of order and discipline, the careful plan- ning and management of all sectors of activity.10

Following the enumeration of these impressive figures for Romania, which brought new arguments to explain Romania’s extremely complicated econom- ic situation, and being aware of the population’s difficult situation, Nicolae Ceauşescu plunged into complex explanations, from the geopolitical realities to the concrete realities of Romania, to justify the domestic situation. Thus, he said, “as it is known, from 1980 until now, the world economic situation has been very complex and serious. The situation of developing countries, whose ex- ternal debt today rises to over 1,300 billion dollars, has got worse.”11 Romania belonged to this category of developing countries, aspiring to the title of coun- try with a medium level of development, but the great achievement was that, by “paying off its external debt,”12 Romania managed to free itself, in the opinion of the authorities, from any foreign oppression and was capable of focusing on the welfare of its own people. In this respect, it was stated that

in taking the decision to pay the entire external debt in this decade, we proceeded from the fact that only by paying it off would we be able to ensure full economic and political independence, to unswervingly implement the party’s Program of building the multilaterally developed socialist society and to provide the necessary conditions for Romania’s steady advance towards communism! At the same time, we have de- cided to act in such a way as to ensure the country’s economic and social development as well as the continuous improvement of the people’s material and spiritual status. In the years 1981–1989 over 2,000 billion lei were allocated for development. At the non-commercial exchange rate of the dollar this means over 200 billion dollars. This year’s industrial production is more than 50% higher than in 1980. The ag- ricultural production will be almost 1.5 times higher. The volume of goods sold to the population, at current prices, is 40% higher. The total remuneration fund has increased in this period by almost 60% and the average remuneration by almost 50%. As it is known, in the years 1981–1989, wages and pensions have doubled. This year, until 1 August, the second increase in remuneration and pensions shall Transsilvanica • 103

be completed. At the same time, child allowance has increased by about 70% and social spending per capita by over 44%. Generally, during this period, extensive works of industrial, agricultural and national interest have been carried out and over 1 million apartments have been built. In these years, the Danube–Black Sea Canal and the Poarta Albã–Midia Nãvodari Canal, with a total length of about 100 km, have been commissioned, the metro in Bucharest has been finalized, and this year it will reach a length of 60 km, the flow of the Dâmboviþa River has been regulated and the great works of modernization and systematization of the capital city, including the new administrative center, have been carried out. In general, all counties, towns and communes of our socialist country have seen a strong develop- ment...13

All these arguments should have been enough to mobilize a population that was experiencing rather poor living conditions, so that the regime could still benefit from its support. But this was not possible and the communist authorities were aware of it. Nothing had improved in terms of living standards and food supply remained as poor as ever. This was contrary to what had been said at the Ple- nary of the cc of the rcp and at the meeting of the Great National Assembly, on 17–18 April 1989, proving that everything was only propaganda. This also explains why the population continued to be watched by the repres- sive structures who, together with the ruling political structures, were aware of the problems regarding the food supply system, firstly but not only, and the other categories of goods necessary for everyday life, an everyday life that was more and more troubled towards the end of the communist regime.14 Thus, a note of the Oradea Securitate, dated 26 May 1989,15 a month after the triumphalist speech in the Plenary of the cc of the rcp and in the Great Na- tional Assembly, pointed out serious deficiencies in supplying the population with agri-food products. It covered the whole range of staples. What may sur- prise today is the phrase used in the document—“the population’s consumption rights”—but it is a well-known fact that food was rationed in Romania, each inhabitant receiving a certain amount of food distributed monthly. The note of the Securitate made direct reference to certain “shortcomings in the supply of agri-food products,”16 being in fact a synthesis of the population’s economic problems. Thus, there were major problems with the milk supply. Here things were serious even in the opinion of this institution, which pointed out that “only 38% of the raw material planned for the county is being collected,”17 deliver- ing to the population “only 58,000 liters of milk on working days, as well as fresh produce set by the County Supply Programme.”18 More serious deficien- cies were reported by the Securitate in the area of complementary products such 104 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) as “beverages based on whey and buttermilk, artificial honey bars, cream cheese with additives, malted milk powder.”19 The author of the document underlined that “these complementary products are not at the level of the established quo- tas, mentioning the lack of sugar and other raw materials that make up these products.”20 The document also recorded the lack of certain products such as “cottage cheese, bark-wrapped cheese, sour cream, caciocavallo, cream cheese, cow cheese in quantities to meet the requirements, and the supplied milk does not always cover the needs.”21 One cause for alarm was the supply of nurseries and kindergartens through the “Alimentara” food shop chain, which “is done according to the quantity of milk received and not according to the number of existing children,”22 indicating that pre-school children from kindergartens in Oradea and in Bihor County did not receive sufficient specific food, a situation considered inappropriate even by the Securitate. Shortcomings were also reported in the supply of meat products. The docu- ment read that “the range of products is limited and quantitatively unevenly distributed, dominant being the products with high profitability such as: Mis- treþ pork salami, Igniş sausages, smoked bacon, bones,”23 and indicated that the raw material consisted of “meat with low nutritional value.”24 The shortcom- ings were major and were clearly recorded in the documentation prepared by the Securitate and forwarded to the hierarchical structures in Bucharest. The document stated that “the shortage of soy flour, sodium polyphosphate and oil, some spices such as thyme, caraway, maize, and the increased amounts of fat introduced affect the quality of these products. Also, due to the lack of suitable membranes, the commercial aspect leaves a lot to be desired (sheep and horse bladders and membranes are being used). There have been situations when the missing ingredients used in pre-packaged food have been replaced by bones.”25 Cooking oil was not sufficient either. Consequently, “due to low oil reserves, the Bucharest Cooking Oil Plant has delivered quotas that are below the quanti- ties contracted by the beneficiaries. Some of these cannot be met by the Oradea Cooking Oil Company. By 24 May of the current year, of the 208 tons meant for icra Bihor only 125 tons were delivered, of which 2.4 tons to Beiuş, 12.1 tons to Salonta, 1.3 tons to Aleşd, and nothing to Marghita and Vaşcãu.”26 With access to national data on this issue, the author of the document pointed out that Bihor County, despite being a border county, was allocated a quantity of cook- ing oil far below its needs and far below the quantities allocated to other coun- ties. Alba, Arad, Cluj, Hunedoara, Sãlaj, and Maramureş were listed among the best supplied counties and it is not clear why Bihor was the most disadvantaged of all the counties in the western part of Romania. Major deficiencies were also reported in terms of sugar supplies, mentioning that “iis Zahãr Oradea will finish the sugar stock for the market in May, and Transsilvanica • 105 there will be only 7,000 tons left in the state reserve.”27 Risks from this perspec- tive were even greater since “this unit delivers sugar to beneficiaries in 5 coun- ties, with needed monthly supplies of 3,000 tons.”28 The egg supply also faced an extremely severe situation. It was reported that “the quantities of eggs put up for sale by ics Alimentara and the icsif food shops represent about 30% of the population’s needs.”29 In conclusion, the document prepared by the Securitate and submitted to its higher authority indicated major general shortcomings regarding the inconsis- tencies in the public food system and in the “consumers’ co-operative system.” The worst inconsistencies were caused by the shortcomings in the “distribution of goods from the Commercial Department of Bihor County, in the sense that the established quotas were received after 15 May of the current year, a situation that has led to disruptions in supply...”30 Thus, there were delays in the “distri- bution of oil and the allotted quotas have been diminished. Although yeast quo- tas are being received, they are small compared to the current needs. The provi- sions of the contract with ita Bihor regarding the necessary means of transport are not complied with, causing supply delays. The food shop chain no longer has vegetable, fruit or mixed canned foods, and village food shops are sent products that are not in demand due to their high price (e.g. Golf Cigarettes).”31 Given the fact that important industrial centers in the county, such as the mining or the iron and steel towns, were given special attention in order to prevent possible riots, the documents of the Securitate recorded that in the first part of 1989 they were no longer supplied rhythmically, but only sporadically and “within 70–75%”32 of their needs.

o, a few weeks after having announced Romania’s economic independence and after having paid off its external debt, the Romanians’ daily problems Swere far from being solved. Things did not change for the better even in the months that followed. The population’s discontent reported by the repressive structures was still present, proving that all the discussions from the spring of 1989 about the payment of the external debt and the bright future awaiting the Romanians were nothing but propaganda. The citizens continued to be dissatisfied with their economic situation even at the time of the 14th Congress of the Romanian Communist Party (20–24 November 1989) where the great achievements in the economic field and the increase in the population’s living standard were once again presented. Thus, around the time of the Congress, on 10 November 1989, a number of com- plaints on “the contractual obligations in kind”33 came from the sheep breeders from Cherechiu and Diosig34 in Bihor County. They complained about being 106 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) forced to fulfill the same obligations even if in March 1989 it had been trium- phantly announced that things would change as a result of Romania’s economic independence. These sheep breeders were among the few social categories that had some economic independence in communist Romania and the regime was more cautious in their regard. One can notice this from the Securitate’s reports stating that some of the shepherds who were under surveillance possessed con- siderable fortunes. One of them, Vonica Maniu from Cherechiu, 60 years old, owned 1,300 sheep, three houses in the Alba, Sibiu and Bihor counties and an aro Diesel car.35 Since tensions in the country continued to grow rather than subside, despite the authorities’ hopes after having gained the country’s economic independence, the law enforcement institutions were commanded to keep a close watch on the population’s state of mind, all the more so since the proceedings of the 14th Con- gress had to run smoothly. And this in a period when things in the communist bloc were out of control due to the liberalization of these regimes.36 That is why, in the days preceding the 14th Congress of the rcp, the Securitate received the mission of reassessing the state of mind of the population in Bihor County. The conclusions once again led to the same economic problems related to the supply of consumer goods. Issued on the second day of the congress, on 21 November 1989, the report restated the Romanians’ real problems and the enormous gap between the standard of living and the propaganda, between what was said at the congress37 and the everyday economic reality. As reported by the Securitate, the reality was, in fact, discouraging for the inhabitants. These reports did not hesitate to record the true state of mind of the population. Thus, one of the notes on the situation in the town of Marghita, Bihor County, at the very time of the 14th Congress of the rcp, indicated that “there is an inadequate mood caused by the huge delays in the delivery of gas cylinders, deficiencies in the distribution of houses, the non-payment of medical leaves and shortcomings in the food supply.”38 The document, extremely edify- ing and realistic, showed the realities at the end of 1989 in a Romania that was marked by a profound crisis. The way Marghita was depicted in this report is undoubtedly valid for the whole of Romania, excepting of course the members of the nomenklatura. We find out that “no gas cylinders have been received since 31 October 1989, no coupon has been issued for gas cylinders in November, 412 gas cylinders are yet to be delivered since October, in November none of the 1,300 allocated gas cylinders has yet been delivered.”39 But the worst situation concerned the basic food supplies for daily living. The report presented the problems only for the months of October and November 1989, but for the entire year the situation was even more serious, with huge differences between the quantities that were allocated for consumption and the Transsilvanica • 107 quantities that were actually delivered. Thus, the report stated, “in terms of sup- plying the population with the main meat and milk products the situation for the months of October and November is as follows.”40

Products 1989 October November allocated 18 tons 40 tons Meat delivered 4.7 tons 4.1 tons allocated 39 tons 40 tons Meat products delivered 10.7 tons 5.9 tons allocated 13 tons 13 tons Canned meat delivered 0 tons 0 tons allocated 7 tons 7 tons Processed food delivered 10.3 tons 2.3 tons allocated 1 tons 4 tons Fish delivered 4.5 tons 2.3 tons allocated 3 tons 3 tons Canned fish delivered 1.5 tons 0.7 tons Dairy products cheese allocated 10 tons 9 tons delivered 0.35 tons 0.2 tons margerine allocated 3 tons 3 tons delivered 4.9 tons 2.3 tons butter allocated 0 tons 2 tons delivered 0.2 tons 0 tons41

As one can see, there were major deficiencies in supplying the population with essential products such as milk, meat and their derivatives. The situation was a general one for the entire Bihor County as well as for the entire country. This explains once more the events that followed in December 1989. Another report drawn up by the Securitate on 25 November 1989, one day after the congress, recorded the population’s state of discontent during the fo- rum of the Romanian communists. The document is “an example” of what it meant to transmit data from the territory without causing discomfort either to the addressees or to the addressers, once Nicolae Ceauşescu was re-elected. Thus, the document read that, in Bihor, the works of the 14th Congress were followed in a “peaceful atmosphere, without the troubles and disturbances from the other socialist countries . . ., which shows that the general policy of our party and state is just, trusted by the entire people.”42 Or, it is known that, in the autumn of 1989 during the Congress in Oradea and Bihor, there were disagree- ments as to what was happening in Romania.43 In spite of the fact that the Securitate’s note wanted to distort reality, one can notice the dissatisfactions mentioned here. The same dissatisfactions had 108 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) been recorded in another note just a few days before, the note that we have mentioned earlier. The report of 25 November 1989 underlined that most of the commentaries during the congress “address issues related to a better supply of the population with agri-food and consumer products. This is all the more so since the content of the report speaks on several occasions about raising the people’s standard of living.”44 People therefore saw the major differences be- tween propaganda and everyday reality. This aspect was presented in the report, which indicates that the Securitate called the attention to this fact as well as to the fact that the population was deeply dissatisfied, as all the people they moni- tored complained that “it is inadmissible that, after such a rich harvest, flour is rationed and not distributed monthly, that rice has been absent for a long time from the food shop chain, an absence more acutely felt now in the eve of the winter holidays, that the meat, meat products, dairy products, sweets and eggs are found in insufficient quantities in grocery shops and some imported prod- ucts or spices are completely unavailable.”45 In its informative notes, the Securitate called the attention to the existence in Bihor County of a growing state of discontent caused by the economic problems that the vast majority of the population was facing, a population that, even during the “great forum of the communists,” was more concerned about “its daily prob- lems caused by supply difficulties”46 than about what was being discussed there. These documents clearly presented the fact that people were expecting from the 14th Congress concrete measures to solve the existing problems based on the fact that the leaders of the Communist Party and of the Romanian state were coming up with statements about the continuous increase in living standards, the exact opposite of what was happening in reality. Thus, another note of the Securitate recorded that most people “expected from the congress concrete and immediate measures meant to improve the supply of food, medicines, consumer goods.”47 Virtually all social strata were dissatisfied, and this fact was highlighted by the information provided by the Securitate from Bihor County. The medical staff was also discontented, citing “the lack of first-aid drugs in hospitals, pharmacies and Centrofarm warehouses.”48 The shortage of medicines was an everyday real- ity in Bihor as well as in the entire country, completed by another bleak reality, the lack of food. All of these contributed to serious deficiencies in the popula- tion’s health, caused by malnutrition and the lack of medication. Malnutrition occurs when the calorie intake is higher than the nutrient intake. It affects both adults and children and can cause permanent disabilities and higher risks of in- fection. Everyday realities in Romania in the 1980s created this possibility on a fairly wide scale and the queues outside the shops were “a reflection of underde- velopment and resignation amid nationwide misery.”49 The culture of poverty Transsilvanica • 109 is a concept often used when talking about the Romanian society of the 1980s50 and it refers to how individuals and households were facing food shortages. This demonstrates once again the demagoguery and the propaganda of the regime that built a parallel, imaginary world. Despite the deficiencies recorded by the secret police in this report, which was also submitted to their superiors, Nicolae Ceauşescu underlined the increase in living standards and food con- sumption. He said that “food consumption has risen from 1,800 calories per capita daily in 1950 to about 3,300 calories today, Romania belonging thus to the countries with a good consumption from the point of view of physiological needs.”51 For six hours, the report presented on 20 November 1989, on the first day of the 14th Congress of the rcp, listed the great achievements of the regime and described the happy world the population of Romania was living in.

nder these circumstances, what happened in December 1989 came almost naturally, by itself and in a context that seemed intentionally U prepared even by the existing political, administrative and repressive structures. The situation was therefore likely to trigger major events and the ex- plosion took place on a ground that had been specially prepared, in our opinion. Since the Securitate, the guard dog of the regime, and the decision-makers in Bucharest were aware of these things, one may wonder why no steps had been taken to prevent things from getting out of control, e.g. improving Romania’s economic situation given the fact that it had been announced more than half a year before that the country’s external debt had been paid off and that the coun- try had gained its economic independence. Or maybe Nicolae Ceauşescu was not informed about the reality. Consequently, he could not take action. Tak- ing this theory into consideration, who prevented him from being informed? If somebody was preventing him from finding out, was it deliberately or acciden- tally? What was the purpose? Is it possible that there were certain persons who wanted Nicolae Ceauşescu to step down in the context of the general changes in the Soviet bloc since he, misunderstanding the course of history, was refusing to resign as head of the party and head of state? These are all legitimate questions that so far have not received a professional answer based on credible documents and testimonies, although suggestions in this direction have already been made. As it is often the case, there may be a combination of all of the above. We hope that future research will shed light on these unknown facts, once access to the archives is granted. However, we also need to consider whether these archives have been or shall be properly kept. q 110 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Notes

1. Ioan-Aurel Pop, Istoria, adevãrul şi miturile, 3rd edition, rev. and enl. (Cluj-Napoca: ªcoala Ardeleanã, 2018), passim. 2. Ioan-Aurel Pop and Ioan Bolovan, Istoria Transilvaniei, 2nd edition, rev. and enl. (Cluj-Napoca: Şcoala Ardeleanã, 2016), 15–395. 3. Ioan Bolovan, Primul rãzboi mondial şi realitãþile demografice din Transilvania: Fami- lie, moralitate şi raporturi de gen (Cluj-Napoca: Şcoala Ardeleanã, 2015), 23–150. 4. Ilarion Þiu, “Achitarea datoriei externe: Ultimul proiect grandios al lui Ceauşescu,” Sfera politicii (Bucharest) 22, 3 (179) (May–June 2014): 101. 5. “Stenograma şedinþei Comitetului Politic Executiv al cc al pcr din ziua de 31 martie 1989,” apud ibid., 102–103. 6. Ibid., 103. 7. Scînteia, 13 April 1989, 1. 8. Ibid. 9. Ibid. 10. Ibid. 11. Ibid. 12. Ibid. 13. Ibid., 2. 14. Adrian Neculau, ed., Viaþa cotidianã în comunism (Iaºi: Polirom, 2004), passim. 15. Archives of the National Council for the Investigation of Securitate Archives, Fond documentar, file no. 1193, vol. 2, fols. 16–18 (hereafter cited as acnsas). 16. Ibid., fol. 16. 17. Ibid. 18. Ibid. 19. Ibid. 20. Ibid. 21. Ibid. 22. Ibid. 23. Ibid. 24. Ibid. 25. Ibid., fols. 16–17. 26. Ibid., fol. 17. 27. Ibid. 28. Ibid., fols. 17–18. 29. Ibid., fol. 18. 30. Ibid. 31. Ibid. 32. Ibid. 33. acnsas, Fond documentar, file 1193, vol. 3, fol. 225. 34. Ibid. 35. Ibid. Transsilvanica • 111

36. Adam Burakowski, Aleksander Gubrynowicz, and Paweł Ukielski, 1989: Toamna naþiunilor, foreword by Stejãrel Olaru, trans. by Vasile Moga (Iaºi: Polirom, 2012), passim; Stelian Tãnase, Istoria cãderii regimurilor comuniste: Miracolul revoluþiei (Bu- charest: Humanitas, 2009), passim. 37. acnsas, Fond documentar, file no. 79/1989, fols. 1–132. 38. acnsas, Fond documentar, file. no. 1193, vol. 3, fol. 85. 39. Ibid. 40. Ibid. 41. Ibid., fol. 85v. 42. Ibid., fol. 247. 43. Gabriel Moisa, “Acte de revoltã anticomunistã în Oradea şi Bihor în toamna anului 1989,” in Revoluþia românã la Oradea: Documente, mãrturii, eds. Gabriel Moisa, Mircea Bradu, and Radu Davidescu (Oradea: Arca, 2009), 49–55. 44. acnsas, Fond documentar, file no. 1193, vol. 3, fol. 247. 45. Ibid. 46. Ibid. 47. Ibid. 48. Ibid. 49. Paul Cernat, “Cozi şi oameni de rând în anii ’80,” in Neculau, 191. 50. Liviu Chelcea and Puiu Lãþea, “Cultura penuriei: bunuri, strategii şi practici de con- sum,” in Neculau, 152–174. 51. acnsas, Fond documentar, file no. 76/1989, vol. 1, fol. 35.

Abstract Under the Sign of Malnutrition: Economic and Propaganda Policies in Romania at the End of the 1980s. Case Study: Bihor County

The last decade of the communist regime in Romania was a very complicated one due to the eco- nomic crisis that led to drastic reductions in the supply of the population with products necessary for daily living. This caused severe problems in an everyday life marked by the absence of food on the market, leading to serious health problems due to malnutrition. This situation developed gradually, but, by the end of the 1980s, things turned for the worse. Even if this aspect was known by the supervisory structures, mainly the Securitate, measures to improve the situation were taken only after the fall of the communist regime.

Keywords economic crisis, repression, propaganda policies, malnutrition, Securitate tangencies

Die Banater Berg- und Hüttenwerke und Domänen

C ri s ti a n O l i v i u in der offiziellen Photographie G a i d o ª der StEG (1858-1873)

Die Photokunst erwies sich seit 1839 als ein ideelles Mittel zur Wie- dergabe des menschlichen Antlitzes (als Portrait), der Umwelt und des Menschlichen Lebensraumes. Die an­ fänglichen eingeschränkten techni- schen Möglichkeiten (Kalotypie: lange Zeitliche Aussetzung und schwache Qualität der Bilder, Daguerreotypie – umgekehrtes unmöglich zu verviel- fältigendes Bild)1 hatten als Folge die

1. Abb. Andreas Groll: Album der Banater Verbreitung des Portraits. Die Do- Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österreichische kumentarfotografie – außerhalb des Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft Ateliers – sollte sich erst im sechsten (ca. 1858-1862) Jahrzehnt des 19. Jh. entwickeln als die vom englischen Bildhauer Scott Archer (1851)2 entwickelte Technik

Diese wissenschaftliche Arbeit wurde durch die finanzielle Unterstützung von „minerva – Cooperare pentru cariera de elitã în cer­ cetarea­ doctoralã şi postdoctoralã” (posdru/ Cristian Oliviu Gaidoº 159/1.5/S/137832) ermöglicht. Dies ist ein Doktorand an der Babeº-Bolyai Univer- cofinanziertes Projekt aus „Fondul Social sität Klausenburg, Museologe an dem European“ durch „Programul Operaþional Museum für Geschichte, Ethnographie Sectorial Dezvoltarea Resurselor Umane und Bildende Künste Lugosch, Rumänien. 2007-2013“. Tangencies • 113

Andreas Groll Anton Rohrbach Gustav Adolf Stosius (1812-1872) (1825-1889) (1837–1918)

2. Abb. Porträts der Photographen der Nutzung des feuchten Kollodiums und des Albuminpapiers für Positive sich durchsetzte.3 Die Verbesserung der Techniken der Photokunst veranlassten die Photogra- phen sich dem Dokumentargenre zuzuwenden: Landschaften, Natur- und hi- storische Denkmäler, Reisefotos in exotischen Länder, Architektur und Indus­ triefotografie. Letztere hat den Verdienst alle Facetten des Fortschritts verewigt zu haben (Urbanisierung, Veränderung der Natur, Erzförderung, Ausbau des Eisenbahn- netzes usw.), sowohl in den industrialisierten Länder wie auch in jenen die den Weg erst bestritten. Um die Mitte des 19. Jh. nahm die wirtschaftliche Konkurrenz zwischen den Nationen neue Ausmaßen, die sich bei den Weltausstellungen äußerte (1851 die erste Weltausstellung in London). Hier versuchten die teilnehmenden Länder zu beeindrucken mit technologischen Innovationen, ebenso mit Luxusprodukte, Kunstgegenstände. Die Industriefotografie wurde in diesem Kontext ein Selbst- vermarkungsinstrument der staatlichen oder privaten Unternehmen mit dem Zweck, ihre Wahren auf einen je größeren Markt zu bringen.4 In diesem Teil des Aufsatzes versuchen wir einerseits einen dieser Vermar- kungsmechanismen – das öffentliche Foto, mit ausgewählten Themen – die die StEG nutzte um ihre gute Verwaltung und Ausbeutung der Domänen zu schil- dern und andererseits eine Reihe von unbekannten Fotos der Wissenschaft zur Verfügung zu stellen. Zu diesem Zweck haben wir drei von der StEG bestellte Fotoalben ausgewählt: Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österreichische Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft (ca. 1858-1861, Andreas Groll), Album der Oravicza- Steierdorfer-Montanbahn (ca. 1864, Anton Rohrbach?)5 und die Reihe von Fotos die Ing. G. A. Stosius für die Weltausstellung in Wien (1873) hergestellt hat. 114 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Der Rückstand der österreichischen Wirtschaft im Vergleich mit den west- europäischen Ländern wurde selbst von Kaiser Franz Josef I. festgestellt, der, obwohl er den Finanzminister Karl Ludwig von Bruck unterstützt hatte (1. No- vember 1851), ein österreichisches Eisenbahnnetz aus Staatsgeldern zu finan- zieren, trotzdem das Eisenbahnkonzessionsgesetz (an Private) am 14. Septem- ber 1854 angenommen hat. Letztendlich konzessionierte der Staat am 30. De- zember 1854 der K.K. Privilegierte österreichische Staatseisenbahngesellschaft (StEG) die Staatsbahnen aus dem Norden und Südosten des Reiches wie auch die Bergbaureviere aus dem Banat und aus Böhmen.6

1. Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österreichische Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft

er französischen Ingenieur Charles J. I. Dubocq (1820-1873), einer der vier Zentraldirektoren der StEG, verantwortlich für die Verwaltung der Hütten- und Bergwerke, beschäftigte sich mit der eigentlichen Or- D 7 ganisierung der Banater Domänen 1856-1863. Er entfaltete eine komplexe Tä- tigkeit die außer der Koordinierung der Bergwerke auch eine gewisse Lebens- qualität der Arbeiterschaft sicherte: es wurden Schulen und Kirchen errichtet

3. Abb. Gruppe von Banater StEG Beamten, die drei Ingenieure in der Mitte, auf die erste Reihe, von Links nach Rechts gesehen: I. Zeillinger, Reich und Louis Maderspach (1809-1884) Tangencies • 115 und der Pensionsfond weiterentwickelt.8 Die malerische Landschaft war noch ein Argument für die StEG, ihre Rolle bei der Zivilisierung der Region mit Hil- fe der Fotografie darzustellen. V. J. Jacques Maniel (1813-18719), Generaldirek- tor der Gesellschaft, machte den Vorschlag ein Fotoalbum mit den Banater Rea- litäten zu erzeugen.10 Dafür beauftragte die Gesellschaft Andreas Groll, einen bekannten österreichischen Fotografen, der die Fotos der historischen Gebäude aus Wien und Prag und im Jahre 1857 einen Album mit den von der StEG er- zeugten Fotografien hergestellt hat.11 Andreas Groll (1812-1872), der Sohn ei- nes Gärtners, lernte das Fotografieren bei Dr. Ignaz Menz und spezialisierte sich im Chemielabor des Polytechnischen Instituts Wien, wo er zwischen 1844-1853 als Diener gearbeitet hat.12 Er beherrschte gut die Technik des feuchten Kollo- diums und, mit einer beträchtlichen Reserve von Substanzen und Fotoplatten für Landschaften und Panorama besuchte er mehrmals die Domänen der StEG. Die erste Reise ins Banat unternahm er 1857.13 Folglich datieren wir das Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österreichische Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft in der Zeitspanne 1858-1861.14 Groll wurde von der Landschaft des Banater Montangebietes angezogen, ebenso von der ethnischen Vielfalt (die Volkstracht der Banater Rumänen, das Nomadenleben der Banater Roma, das Leben der deutschen und anderer Kolonisten). Er verewigte die Bergsiedlungen mit den Kolonistenhäuser (Steierdorf), die Industrieanlagen in Reschitza, Dognatschka, Bokschan, Oravicza, den traditionellen Lebensraum der Rumänen (Dorfweg in Bakowa/Bacova, Kirche in Zerowa/Þãrova), ebenso den Beamtenkorp von

4. Abb. Puddlingshütte in Reschitza, Albuminpapier (ca. 1858-1862) 116 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

5. Abb. Werkstätte in Reschitza, Albuminpapier (ca. 1858-1862)

Wien usw. Dieses offizielle Album15 besteht aus einer blauen Mappe mit hervor- gehobenem Titel an (42 × 52 cm), in der sich 60 Fotos befinden.16 Die Fotos haben 24 × 34 cm auf dünnem Karton (39,5 × 50 cm) und sind von einem Etikette mit Erklärungen begleitet. Im Schmutztitel wird das Thema der Industrialisierung „inszeniert“ indem Bergleute neben einem rumänischen Bauern, einem Jäger und einer Maschine ge- stellt werden. Von den zahlreichen Fotos die Groll geschossen hat, sind jene Grup- pen von StEG Beamte und Ingenieure, die sich heute im Museum des Banater­ Montangebiets in Reschitza aufbewahrt werden, besonders interessant.17 Kaiser Franz Josef I. hatte am 28. Febr. 1862 gelegentlich eines Besuches der Maschinenfabrik der StEG in Wien, den er gemeinsam mit Direktor Maniel und dem Ing. John Haswell unternommen hatte, das Album noch vor der Eröffnung der Weltausstellung in London zu sehen.18 Die Tagespresse verzeichnete den Er- folg des Albums19 bei der Londoner Ausstellung (1. Mai-1. Nov. 1862).20

2. Album der Oravicza-Steierdorfer-Montanbahn

ls die Montaneisenbahnlinie Steierdorf-Oravicza fertiggestellt wurde (Eröffnung 15. Dez. 1863), wurde ein neues Fotoalbum erstellt das die- ses großangelegte Projekt und den Beitrag der zahlreichen Ingenieure A 21 wiederspiegelt. Das Album befindet sich heute im Technischen Museum Wien. Tangencies • 117

Die Kartondeckeln sind mit Leder bezogen und der Titel mit vergol- deten Buchstaben geschrieben: „Pa- ­norama der Oravicza-Steierdorfer Album Montanbahn“. Der offiziel­ le Charakter des Albums wird durch das Titelblatt verzeichnet usw.: Al- bum der Oravicza-Steierdorfer-Mon- tanbahn – 17,5 × 24,5 cm. Hier sind knappe Informationen über den Bau der Montanbahn zwischen 1861-1863 unter der Leitung des

StEG-Direktors C. v. Ruppert und 6. Abb. Album der Oravitza-Steierdorfer-Montanbahn des Oravitzaer Baustellenleiters L. (1864), Schmutztitel, es enthält die Namen des v. Szcepanowsky zu finden. Namen- Ingenieurs welche an das Projekt gearbeitet tlich werden im unteren Register haben zwischen 1861-1863 23 Ingenieure erwähnt. Auf der Rückseite finden wir Daten die die positiven Folgen der Verbindung der Koh- lenbergwerke an die Hauptbahnstrecke bei Oravicza verzeichnen. Die Linie, die zu Recht mit der Semmering Bahn verglichen wird, hat eine Länge von 33,4 km, 14 Tunnels, 10 Viadukte, 21,2 km im Fels geschlagen und einen Höhenun- terschied von 843 m zwischen Oravicza und Anina. Der Bau der Eisenbahnlinie kostete insgesamt 5 Mill. Gulden.22 Die 20 Fotos (9 × 11 cm) sind auf 17,5 × 24,5 cm große Kartons an- gebracht und haben Nummer und Name. Zwei Eisenbahnstationen (Oravicza und Karaschowa), fünf Viadukte – der am meisten beeindruckende bei Jitin – sechs Tunnels (Tunnel Maniel), Eisenbahn-Trassen und zwei Panoramabilder (Bergamt Steierdorf und Eisenwerk Anina) erscheinen in dem Album. Über- raschend haben die Fotos keine besondere Qualität. Es erscheinen Flecken von unnatürlichem Licht. Die Fotos sind nicht klar, alles weist darauf hin, dass es sich um Kopien handelt. Diese Vermutung wird noch mehr verstärkt durch die Existenz von 7 Fotos derselben im Bau befindlichen Eisenbahnlinie von denen 4 Originale Foto-Klischees „Rohrbach ’863“ unterschrieben sind (Viadukt Jitin, Anina mit Holzgerüst, Trasse Jitin-Tal und Panorama der Kolonie Anina).23 Die anderen 3 Fotos sind Reproduktionen, die der Wiener Voigtländer Hermann nach Rohrbach gemacht hat.24 Anton Rohrbach (1825-1889) war Apotheker in Szeged. Er war ein ge- schickter Amateurfotograf. Bekannt ist er Dank seiner Dokumentarfotos, die sensationelle Aufnahmewinkel benutzen. Die Brücke über die Theiß (1857- 1858)25 und die Brücken vom zweiten Streckenteil der Linie Sankt Petersburg- 118 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

7. Abb. Anonym, 2. Majdan-Viaduct, 8. Abb. Anonym, 5. Maniel-Tunnel, Albuminpapier, montier auf Karton (1864) Albuminpapier, montiert auf Karton (1864)

Warschau, die von der Grande Société des Chemins de Fer Russes finanziert wurden. Es werden ihm die ältesten Panoramas der Städte Szeged (Hauptplatz 1858), Kaunas (Litauen), Grodno (Weißrussland) und Daugavpils (Litauen).26 Die ein- zige Beziehung Rohrbachs mit dem Banat sehen wir vorläufig in der Person von C. Ruppert, dem Direktor der StEG. Ruppert, ein Brückenbauer, war für die Brücke von Szeged wie auch für die Viadukte der Linie Oravicza-Anina verant- wortlich und nutzte die technischen Fotos um sein Bausystem zu veranschau- lichen.27 Wir glauben, dass das Album der Eisenbahnlinie Steierdorf-Oravicza nach der Eröffnung bestellt wurde und dass man in Abwesenheit der Negative auf Reproduktionen gegriffen hat.

3. StEG-Album anlässlich der Wiener Weltausstellung aus dem Jahre 1873; Autor G. A. Stosius

ie Veranstaltung eines Ereignisses wie die Wiener Weltausstellung aus dem Jahre 1873 (1. Mai-2. Nov. 1873) gab Wien die Chance der Welt D die Fortschritte aus den letzten Jahrzehnte zu zeigen und nach den verlorenen Kriegen mit Piemont/Frankreich (1859) und Preußen (1866) ein wiedererstarktes Selbstbewusstsein zur Schau zu tragen. Die StEG, die größte Industriegesellschaft der Zeit errichtete einen schönen Ausstellungspavillon im süd-östlichen Teil der großen Rotonde.28 Das Gebäude, im Schweizer Stil wurde vom Wiener Fotografen Michael Frankenstein abgelich- tet. Überraschend sind die Bezüge zu den Banater Domänen. Im oberen Register Tangencies • 119

9. Abb. Michael Frankenstein, Pavillon der k.k. priv. österr. Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft auf dem Wiener Weltausstellungsplatze 1873, Kollektion Ionel Bota des Pavillons erscheinen die Namen der Bergorte Dognatschka, Reschitza und Anina. Die StEG stellte Steinproben aus Steierdorf und Böhmen in Form von Pyramiden vor dem Pavillon aus, ebenso verschiedene Erze, Gusswaren aus Re- schitza, Zement aus Oravicza, Mineralöle aus Steierdorf und eine beeindrucken- de Sammlung von Fossilien, Pflanzen, Weine aus Neu-Moldowa, Statistiken mit Produktionsdaten usw. Der Kaiser besuchte am 9. Juli 1873 den StEG Pavillon.29 Die StEG präsentierte ihre Leistungen mittels zahlreicher Fotos. Ing. Gustav Adolf Stosius (1837-1918)30 der seit 1871 in Anina tätig war – wohin er nach der Fertigstellung der Linie Wien-Brünn (1870) versetzt wurde – ist mit die- ser Aufgabe beauftragt worden. Stosius blieb bis zum Jahre 1875 im Banat.31 Während dieser Zeit war er auch als Fotograf tätig. In Wien stellte er eigene Arbeiten aus: die Gießerei aus Anina, eine thematische Reihe die der Montan- eisenbahn Oravicza-Anina gewidmet war, ein rumänisches Bauernhaus, Volks- trachten usw.32 Mit der Herstellung der Fotos für die Ausstellung von der Gesellschaft beauf- tragt, hat Stosius versucht den Fortschritt mittels breiten Rahmen darzustellen in denen er die Industrieanlagen aus den großen Montanorten darstellte. Die sechsundzwanzig Photographien aus dem Album wurden an den Wänden des Pavillons ausgestellt. Aus der nach Wien geschickten Reihe konnten wir nur sie- ben Fotos identifizieren: „Gustvaschacht bei Anina-Steierdorf“, „Dampfmühle 120 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

10. Abb. Gustav Adolf Stosius, während des Transportes zur Wiener Weltausstellung, aufgenommen zu Roman-Oravitza, 11. April 1873, Albuminpapier, montiert auf gedruckte Karton in Montan Oravitza“, „Kalkringofen auf der Station Krassova“, „Hochofen-An- lage in Deutsch Bogschan“, „Coaks-öfen in Reschitza“, „Hochofen-Anlage in D. Dognaczka“ und „Berglocomotive Hungaria“. Die Bilder sind 37 × 25,5 cm groß (auf Albuminpapier) und auf Karton angebracht (42 × 32 cm) gedruckt und mit dem Namen des Standortes wie auch mit dem Vermerk: „Photogr. Aufnahme von G. A. Stosius, Ingenieur der Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft, 1873 – Eigenthum der k.k priv. österr. Staateisenbahn-Gesellschaft“. Die nachträgliche Anerkennung des Flairs Stosius bei der Auswahl seiner Themen verdanken wir dem bekannten Foto der Lokomotive „Hungaria“ auf der von 36 Ochsenpaaren gezogenen Plattform, aufgenommen in der Nähe des Bahnhofs Oravicza (11. April 1873) von wo sie über den Donauhafen Baziasch nach Wien verschifft wurde. (Die dritte StEG Lokomotive, die 1872 in Re- schitza für die Eisenbahnlinie Bokschan-Reschitza gebaut wurde.)33 Noch kennen wir nicht den Eindruck den diese Fotos auf das Publikum ge- macht hat. Stosius aber sollte sich von nun an auch weiterhin als Fotograf behaup- ten. 1875 nimmt er an den internationalen Fotoausstellungen aus Wien (Bron- zemedaille für Landschaftsfotografie)34 und Brüssel teil.35 Ebendann erzeugt er ein Album mit dem Lieblingsschloss von Kaiserin Elisabeth, Schloss Gödöllø.36 Mit den die drei Alben kann man die Kontinuität der Mediatisierungsaktio- nen der StEG im Laufe der Zeit bemerken. Es entsteht eine moderne Vermar- kungspolitik und die Leitung der StEG zeigt sich innovationsfreudig nicht nur im technischen Bereich sondern auch im Sozialen und in dem der Vermarkung. StEG benutzte die Werbung schon sehr früh, um das Ansehen in der Gesell- schaft und auf dem Markt zu stärken. Die Fotowerbung wurde entwickelt für Tangencies • 121

Presentationen bei nationalen und internationalen Messen oder auch um beson- dere technische Leistungen aufzuzeigen. In den Bildern erkennt man die Bemü- hungen der Vorfahren, der beschwerliche Weg und ihre besonderen Leistungen im Dienste des Fortschrittes der menschlichen Gesellschaft. q

11. Abb. Gustav Adolf Stosius, Hochofen-Anlage in D. Dognaczka, Albuminpapier, montiert auf gedruckte Karton (1873)

12. Abb. Gustav Adolf Stosius, Coaks-öfen in Reschitza, Albuminpapier, montiert auf gedruckte Karton (1873) 122 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Abbildungsverzeichnis

1. Abb. Andreas Groll: Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österreichische Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft (ca. 1858-1862) – Schmutztitel, Albuminpapier, ca. 24 × 27 cm, Museum des Banater Montangebiets, Reschitza, Inv. Nr. 267/3965. 2. Abb. Porträts der Photographen: Andreas Groll (1812-1872), Porträt nach Zdeneˇk Wirth: První fotograf Prahy. In: Časopis Umeˇní, XII (1939-40), S. 361-376; Anton Rohrbach (1825-1889), Porträt nach T. Knotik Márta, Fényírók és fé- nyirdák Szegeden (1859-1913), Szeged 2009, S. 12; Zeichnung nach Rudolf Fürnkranz: Gustav Adolf Stosius. In: Kulturhefte Laa-Kunst und Kunstschaf- fende in Laa, eine Bestandsaufnahme, Nr. 34, Mai 2013, S. 19. 3. Abb. Andreas Groll: Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österr. Staats- eisenbahn-Gesellschaft (ca. 1858-1862), eine Gruppe von Banater StEG Beamten, die drei Ingenieure in der Mitte, auf die erste Reihe, von Links nach Rechts gesehen: I. Zeillinger, Reich und Louis Maderspach (1809-1884), Albuminpapier, ca. 24 × 35 cm, Museum des Banater Montangebiets, Re- schitza, Inv. Nr. 303/4001. 4. Abb. Andreas Groll: Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österr. Staats- eisenbahn-Gesellschaft (ca. 1858-1862), Puddlingshütte in Reschitza, Albu- minpapier, ca. 24 × 33, Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002030-46. 5. Abb. Andreas Groll: Album der Banater Besitzungen der k.k. priv. österreichische Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft (ca. 1858-1862), Werkstätte in Reschitza, Albu- minpapier, ca. 24 × 33, Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002030-46. 6. Abb. Album der Oravicza-Steierdorfer-Montanbahn (1864) – Schmutztitel (17,5 × 24,5 cm), es enthält die Namen des Ingenieurs welche an das Projekt gear- beitet haben zwischen 1861-1863, Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea- 002029. 7. Abb. Album der Oravicza-Steierdorfer-Montanbahn (ca. 1864), Anonym, 2. Maj­ dan-Viaduct, Albuminpapier (ca. 9 × 11) montier auf Karton (7,5 × 24,5 cm), Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002029-02. 8. Abb. Album der Oravicza-Steierdorfer-Montanbahn (1864), Anonym, 5. Maniel- Tunnel, Albuminpapier (ca. 9 × 11) montiert auf Karton (17,5 × 24,5 cm), Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002029-05. 9. Abb. Michael Frankenstein: Pavillon der k.k. priv. österreichische Staatseisenbahn- Gesellschaft auf dem Wiener Weltausstellungsplatze 1873, Kollektion Ionel Bota. 10. Abb. Gustav Adolf Stosius: Berglocomotive „Hungaria“, während des Transportes zur Wiener Weltausstellung, aufgenommen zu Roman-Oravitza am 11. April 1873, Albuminpapier (37 × 25,5 cm) montiert auf gedruckte Karton (42 × 32 cm), Kollektion Ionel Bota. 11. Abb. Gustav Adolf Stosius: Hochofen-Anlage in D. Dognaczka (1873), Albumin­ papier (37 × 25,5 cm) montiert auf gedruckte Karton (42 × 32 cm), Mu- seum des Banater Montangebiets, Reschitza, Inv. Nr. 1087/4785. Tangencies • 123

12. Abb. Gustav Adolf Stosius: Coaks-öfen in Reschitza (1873), Albuminpapier (37 × 25,5 cm) montiert auf gedruckte Karton (42 × 32 cm), Museum des Banater Montangebiets, Reschitza, Inv. Nr. 1088/4786.

Anmerkungen

1. Michel Frizot (Hrsg.): A New History of Photography, Köln 1998, S. 91. 2. Der langjährige Gebrauch der Prozedur mit feuchtem Kollodium in der kommer- ziellen Fotografie (1851-1880) ist seine Effizienz zu verdanken beim Herstellen von Bildern mit zahlreichen Details und kurzer Belichtung. Trotzdem war die Methode für die Fotografen schwerfällig, denn diese mussten eine Stunde lang die mit Kol- lodium getränkte Platte in einem Silbernitratbad, er musste die Fotoplatte belichten und entwickeln, alles an demselben Standort. Das Fotografieren im Freien benötigte setzte voraus dass ein ganzes Fotolabor mittels eines Fuhrwerkes an Ort und Stelle gebracht wurde. Dies konnte alle Etappen des Fotografierens beeinflussen. Vgl. Constantin Sãvulescu: Perioada colodiului umed şi uscat (1851-1880). In: Fotogra- fia – Buletin intern, Nr. 4-5, Bukarest 1974, S. 156. 3. Dusan C. Stulik u. Art Kaplan: Albumen. The Atlas of Analytical Signatures of Pho- tographic Processes, Los Angeles 2013, S. 4. Louis Désiré Blanquart-Evrard (1802- 1872) hat in seinem Vortrag vom 27. Mai 1850 in der Académie Française auf seine revolutionäre Erfindung der Bearbeitung des Papiers mit Albumin aufmerksam gemacht. 4. Michel Frizot: A New History of Photography, S. 740. 5. Wir möchten uns bei Frau Erika Simoni-Kinnl, Archivar des Technischen Museums aus Wien, für die Hilfsbereitschaft herzlich bedanken. Sie hat uns Anfang des Jahres 2015 die Fotos aus dem Archiv zu Verfügung gestellt. 6. Dionisie Károlyi: Contribuþii la istoria construcþiilor de cãi ferate în Banat (1856- 1914). In: Banatica, Bd. 2, Timişoara 1973, S. 201-217; Rudolf Gräf: Contribuþii la istoria industrialã a Banatului Montan. StEG, factor de modernizare (1855-1920), Klausenburg 2011, S. 48-49. 7. Seite der Zeitschrift Les Annales des Mines: http://www.annales.org/archives/x/dubocq. html. 8. Carl Heinrich Edmund von Berg: Aus dem Osten der österreichischen Monarchie. Ein Lebensbild von Land und Leuten, Dresden 1860, S. 173. 9. Vincent Joseph Jacques Maniel (1813-1871), General Direktor der StEG zwi­ schen 1855-1863, Studium an der École polytechnique de Paris, 1832 Abschluss als Straßen- und Brückenbauingenieur. Nach: Les Annales des Mines: http://www. annales.org/archives/x/maniel.html. 10. Wiener Tagesbericht, Nr. 158, 11 Juli 1862. 11. Das Album Locomotiv-Systeme der k. k. priv. österreichische Staats-Eisenbahn-Ge- sellschaft, beinhaltet 39 Fotos die in der Albertina aufbewahrt sind. Vgl. Monika Faber: Industriefotografie im Vielvölkerstaat. Ein Beispiel aus dem Banat. In: Chro- niques allemandes, Heft 11 (Hrsg. Herta Ott, Grenoble), 2006-2007, S. 111-125. 124 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

12. Monika Faber (Hrsg.): Andreas Groll. Wiens erster moderner Fotograf 1812-1872, Salzburg 2015, S. 254-257. 13. Ebd. 14. Eines der ältesten Bilder des Albums – Waldhaus am Lupp mit Kreuz, Inv. Nr. ea- 002030-65 ist 1858 datiert und befindet sich in der Sammlung des Technischen Museums Wien: http://www.technischesmuseum.at/online-sammlung/site/default. aspx#/includes/viewDetail.htm?mode=search&facets=&searchTerm=1858. 15. Ein vollständiges Exemplar des Albums befindet sich in der Sammlung des Techni­ schen Museums Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002030. 16. Wiener Tagesbericht, Nr. 158, 11 Juli 1862. 17. Das Museum des Banater Montangebiets besitzt 47 Fotografien die unter ver- schiedenen Inventar Nummern registriert sind. Von den 14 Fotos die das Personal der StEG darstellen sind mehr als die Hälfte nicht auch in den Sammlungen des Technischen Museums Wien. 18. Über den Besuch berichtet der Wiener Tagesbericht von 1862, am 1. März (Nr. 50) und 8. März (Nr. 56). 19. Obwohl Direktor Maniel das Album unter der Nummer 105 verzeichnet, glauben wir dass es sich um eine interne durch die StEG gemachte Klassifizierung der Aus- stellungsexponate handelt weil dieser im offiziellen Katalog der englischen Aus­ stellung nicht erscheint. Siehe: Mittheilungen über die zur Londoner Ausstellung im Jahre 1862 von der K.K. Priv. Österr. Staatseisenbahn-Gesellschaft gesendeten Gegenstände [Maniel, Der General-Director der Gesellschaft], Wien 1862, S. 8. 20. International Exhibition 1862. Official catalogue of the industrial departement, London, o.J. [1862], S. 237. 21. Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002029. 22. Dan Gh. Perianu: Istoria uzinelor din Reºiþa 1771-1996, Reschitza 1996, S. 14. 23. Mappe mit 1 Situationsplan, technische Zeichnung mit Tunnelquerschnitten, 4 Fo- tografien Rohrbach zugeschrieben, Technisches Museum Wien, Inv. Nr. ea-002031. 24. Mappe mit dem Titel: Oravicza-Steierdorfer Montanbahn, mit 16 Fotos, Inv. Nr. ea-002032, Technisches Museum Wien. 25. Márta T. Knotik: Fényírók és fényirdák Szegeden (1859-1913), Szeged 2009, S. 12-13. 26. Dainius Junevicius: Rediscovering a mid-19th Century Photographer of Railway Bridges. In: Anna Auer u. Uwe Schögl (Hrsg.): Jubilee 30 Years eshph [European Society for the History of Photography], congress of photography in Vienna, Wien/ Salzburg 2008, S. 110-125. 27. Beim 14. Kongress der deutschen Architekten und Ingenieure (Wien, 30. August-2. Sept. 1862) hat die Gesellschaft eine Ausstellung in einem der Räume der Techni­ schen Universität organisiert. Unter anderen hatte C. Ruppert Exponate ausgestellt mit Beschreibungen der Viadukte aus Anina und Jitin, ebenso Pläne und Fotos der Theißbrücke. Nach: Bericht über die XIV. Versammlung deutscher Architekten und Ingenieure, Abgehalten am 30., 31. August., 1. und 2. September 1864, zu Wien, Wien 1865, S. 237. 28. Gerold’s Plan des regulirten Praters mit der Weltausstellung 1873, Wien. Tangencies • 125

29. Die Staatsbahn in der Weltaustellung, Beilage zu Nr. 187 der „Presse“, 29. Juni 1873. 30. Rudolf Fürnkranz: Gustav Adolf Stosius. In: Kulturhefte Laa-Kunst und Kunst- schaffende in Laa, eine Bestandsaufnahme, Nr. 34, 2013, S. 19-20. 31. Photographische Mittheilungen. Zeitschrift des Vereins zur Förderung der Photo­ graphie, Nr. 137, Berlin 1875, S. 108. 32. Magyarország, a bécsi 1873-diki közkiállításon. Különleges katalogus a gazdaság, ipar, tudomány és mðvészet kiállított tárgyairól, 1, Budapest 1873, S. 162. 33. Dan Gh. Perianu: Istoria uzinelor din Reºiþa, S. 59. 34. Photographische Mittheilungen. Zeitschrift des Vereins zur Förderung der Photo­ graphie, Nr. 137, 1875, S. 108. 35. Wiener Zeitung, Nr. 215, 20. Sept 1876. 36. Österreichische Nationalbibliothek: http://www.bildarchivaustria.at/Pages/Image- Detail.aspx?p_iBildid=10004773.

Abstract The Mines, Steelworks, and Estates of Banat in the Official Photographs of the StEG (1858–1878)

The industrialization of the Banat Highlands began when the StEG Company took over the mining areas under an agreement made with the Austrian state in 1855. Historians have stressed primarily the modernization of the area (addressing topics such as the capital investments made by the company, the effort to set up mining towns, the industrial progress correlated with the devel- opment of railway infrastructure), but neglected one of the most graphic historical sources: pho- tography. Without diminishing the importance of documentary photography, in this case devoted to industrial topics, we found it necessary to point out its advertising function, which began to emerge in the second half of the nineteenth century. Official photography was one of the strategies employed by the StEG Company in order to highlight their good management of mining areas in Banat. For this purpose a number of talented photographers were commissioned (Andreas Groll, Anton Rohrbach, G. A. Stosius) and numerous presentation albums were made for the universal exhibitions at which the company participated (London 1862, Paris 1867, Vienna 1873) or for commemorative purposes, like the ones devoted to special technical achievements such as the Steierdorf-Oraviþa mountain railway, finished in 1863.

Keywords Banat, StEG, Austria-Hungary, industrial photography, railway construction, world fair Literature

L u ci a n -V a s i l e Utopia and Uchronia S z a b o From Thomas More to H. G. Wells

Possible Worlds, Utopic Worlds

topic universes (and dystopi- an ones as well, undoubtedly) U have their own set of charac- teristics. Utopia, seen as the projection of a better life, highlights human exis- tence and the active person, capable of sustaining the functional system of the best of all possible worlds one can live in. Dimension-wise, these worlds of happiness can be of various sizes, rang- ing from small, self-sustainable com- munities (a village, a colony) to inter- galactic human conglomerates. These are worlds that can be placed either: 1) spatially (synchronically), compared to other worlds taken as a reference point, or, 2) temporally (in a diachronic man- Thomas More, Utopia (1516) ner), in succession with the observer’s world. Thus the temporal utopia is often called uchronia. Furthermore, utopic universes can be pictured, as the Lucian-Vasile Szabo genre’s classics have imagined them, as Senior lecturer at the Department of Phi- losophy and Communication Sciences, 1) isolated, with no links to, or mini- West University Timiºoara. Author, among mal links to the other world, the nor- others, of the vol. Media Communication: mal one, and 2) connected to contend- Present and Future (2016). ing civilizations, a situation that can be Literature • 127 represented in various manners, on condition that the utopic society maintains the characteristics individualizing it. The existence of a world (or a community) that could be called, when exhib- iting certain traits, ideal—such as described in Thomas More’s Utopia (1516, in Latin), or life on a deserted island in the case of Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, the adventures of H.G. Wells’ traveler to the future, or doctors Honigberger and Zerlendi’s preparatives to enter Shambala, in Mircea Eliade’s case—comes to underline the challenges faced by those who find themselves in exceptional situations. There are various types of experiences, such as those that put humans face to face with the messengers of other worlds. The contact with extraterres- trial beings has often been imagined as delicate and emotionally charged. These are “on-the-edge” experiences, as are the ones in relation to the past or to the future, following planned or accidental time travel. The relationship between utopia (dystopia) and uchronia is complex, but one element is evident: utopia can be constructed as a distinct topos—as a function- al society—based on the three spatial elements: length, width and height. The uchronic topos is completely dependent on the spatial dimensions, exactly as the utopic one, but in order to construct a uchronic topos the utopic (dystopian) perimeter needs to have already been established. This is a linear narrative struc- ture: one identifies the spatial elements, and afterwards fixes the narrative on a temporal scale (without it being mandatory). It is a process leading to a doubly augmented reality: 1) the data the narrator is already familiar with is to be iden- tified and compared to the data in the utopic universe; 2) having a referential present as a starting point, the utopian world is presented as augmented real- ity. Considering all this, “utopia is not reality but a possible reality” (Fortunati 2000, 635). This synthetic phrase defines utopia as a potentiality that can come into existence based on spatial coordinates, but also on a temporal scale, in terms of evolution (progress or regress). Sargent (1994) tried to bring in some terminological clarifications by intro- ducing terms such as eutopia (the positive utopia), encountered in Plato’s or More’s works (Braga 2017). Although the gain is obvious in terms of methodol- ogy and interpretation, Sargent would have some difficulty to differentiate be- tween dystopia or negative utopia and anti-utopia. The former presents a bleak image of the society where the reader lives, whereas the latter is a critique of an ideal world, particularly eutopia (Sargent 1994; Fitting 2009). Gregory Claeys then noticed that a dystopia is not merely a negative utopia. Furthermore, this subgenre originates both in More’s work and outside of it, thus having the sta- tus of an autonomous cultural and sociopolitical field (Claeys 2013). Mircea Opriþã believed that the distinction between terms and their referential field is rather a question of nuance. Still, when analyzing the manifestation of dystopia 128 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) in H. G. Wells’ work, he introduced the term of counter-utopia, admitting, though, that it is often confused with dystopia (Opriþã 1983, 193). In fact, Opriþã saw counter-utopia as a subgenre of dystopia, its main function being to warn, to describe negative scenarios regarding the future of mankind. Thomas Osborne also felt the need to use the notion of counter-utopia and to differenti- ate between counter-utopia and anti-utopia. In his opinion, counter-utopia rep- resents a supporting element for the utopic narrative, and constitutes a critical view upon any ideal city. “If anti-utopia is opposed to the very idea of utopia, counter-utopia—for all its apparent negativism—is actually a critical adjunct of such an ideal” (Osborne 2003). In the Republic, Plato’s well-known dialogue, the philosopher offers a proto- type and the general framework for each utopia. Plato’s ideal city-state is por- trayed both spatially, referring to an actual place where it could exist (be it Athens, Sparta, Crete or another place known during Plato’s lifetime) and from the point of view of time, in a nearer or more distant future. From this point of view, Plato’s ideal city-state is a project, or even a “hypothesis” (Cheney 2007, 203). Utopia, as one can understand the term (meaning the place “in the middle of nowhere”), remains a construct of the imagination, an ideal to look for and try to attain. But as Plato saw it, and as we would explicitly see in the work of Thomas More, the one who made the term utopia famous, the ideal city is not perfectly isolated, since it maintains a relationship, albeit fragile, with the rest of the world, trading or waging war. And in order to do so the island of happiness imagined by More needs to be a place with some distinctive elements.

Utopia and Tale

topias are constructs of the imagination presented in the form of a narrative. They are, in other words, tales. Considering this framework, U one needs to investigate the two segments that allow them to func- tion: 1) the coherence of a discourse presenting an ideal world; 2) the coher- ence of the perfect society being presented. It is necessary to identify a working definition of utopia, thus highlighting some constitutive elements. Sorin Antohi analyzed the characteristics of the genre in order to establish its general traits. According to him—and following Northrop Frye’s suggestions (1965)—one is in the presence of a classic utopic universe when the narrator is being guided through the ideal land by a local. The presentation becomes a dialogue and the visitor receives answers to his questions. Thus a standard social pattern is revealed, as it is a key requirement for the ideal city to function (Antohi 1991, 20). The narrator is a traveler who moves either in space or in time (or possibly Literature • 129 both). Both situations suppose a return trip or the transmission of messages from/about the (newly discovered) utopian universe. Travelling through space (as opposed to time), as depicted in Thomas More’s Utopia, or to outer space, represent subgenres of “Imaginary Voyage” (Fitting 2009) genre. One can also travel in time, as William Morris’, H. G. Wells’ or Isaac Asimov’s works show. The conceptual delimitation between space and time represents an instrument of critical analysis, successfully employed by Paul K. Alkon (among others) in the analysis of futuristic fiction (2010). Another characteristic of the utopian narrative is the fact that the discourses describing the newly discovered worlds, the references to their government (be it good or bad), social balance, anarchy, confrontations (or lack of) are in the first person. Raphael Hythloday,1 Thomas More’s traveler in Utopia, recounts in the first person, and so does H. G. Wells’ Time Traveler. As Arthur F. Kinney underlines, there are several points of view to be considered when interpreting the text. He gives More’s work as an example of having several ways of reading and understanding: “More’s Utopia, for instance, is about a land and a people seen, simultaneously, by Hythlodaeus, Peter Giles, the More-persona, More the author, and the reader (who might attempt to consolidate some or all of these views)” (Kinney 2007, 5). The starting point for all utopic and dystopian models is Plato’s Republic. Two models are being outlined. The first one is a social model with a simple organization, the inhabitants being busy fulfilling their basic needs. The inhabit- ants of such a country are farmers, shepherds, builders, artisans (weavers, tailors and shoemakers) and merchants. They dress in a humble manner and eat what- ever is readily available, such as—Socrates explains—wheat and barley cakes, olives, cheese, onions and other simply cooked vegetables. Their dessert consists of figs, myrtle, chickpeas, and they drink wine (Plato 1991, 49). From the social and existential points of view it is an archaic world that can be considered perfect and happy. According to some specialists, this type of society is not utopic, but belongs to Arcadia (Trousson 1979, 28). Plato’s description of the second type of society is both more elaborate and more controversial, as it excludes democ- racy and favors an autocratic model. In fact, it excludes poets (writers, actually). This type of ideal city allows for composers and singers to be a part of society, as their role is a more concrete one: to reduce the emotional stress of the guardians, who are essential citizens of the perfect city! Thomas More studied Plato’s Republic and it inspired him when writing Uto- pia, his most original work. There are some similarities between the two, but also many differences that contribute to the variety of these spaces of perfection. Plato had outlined a model of the ideal city, but More changed perspective and established a utopic state set during his own age. He fixed it from a spatial point 130 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) of view, describing its geography and cities and mentioning elements of human geography, or rather of ethnography. As Raphael Hythloday points out, the narrator (the author’s double and voice, of course) mentioned, in the second part of the book, that the island of happiness was “at the antipodes,” in fact somewhere close to South America (More 1684, 5). The island of Utopia is not isolated, for it is a part of an archipelago. The communities living there have good relations. The imaginary link between Europe and the New World (where the island of Utopia is) is supported by other scholars as well: “Once again the myth of the primitive happier state is drawn upon, with some suggestions of accounts of the primitive economies seen by Vespucci and others in the new world” (Williams 1973, 44). Several presentation strategies are being used in order to give veracity to the story. The mise-en-scène allows the author to act as a reporter who wishes to get detailed information and report various events in a most precise manner (Cheney 2007, 203).

Images from the Future

hen publishing Utopia More opened the door to a series of literary works with a sociopolitical angle. The genre developed with the con- W tribution of some important authors that would broaden the themat- ic area and improve narrative forms. Dystopian visions became more and more present, though masked by the motif of time travel and by satirical writing. An English scholar would summarize this change: “Satire seems to have taken over in the case of many—perhaps most—of the descriptions of the fantastic world between More’s Utopia and Swift Gulliver’s Travels; that, indeed, is the reason why the boundaries between utopia and dystopia are so often blurred in these works” (Malcolm 1997, 84). It was also the moment when uchronia emerged as a utopia containing the temporal element as well. This is a clear reference to Louis-Sébastien Mercier, the French author who, in 1770, published L’An 2440, rêve s’il en fut jamais, meaning The Year 2440: A Dream If Ever There Was One.2 From a literary point of view, the work belongs to the oneiric-fantastic genre, in spite of the fact that the theme of time travel is a science fiction theme. But it lacks the other criterion of science fiction, namely, a scientific base, a mechanism that could make time travel possible. We are thus presented with a uchronia, as the sleeping character of the work wakes up to find himself in the Paris of 2440 (Mercier 1772). Mercier inaugurates the futuristic utopia. He outlines a possible future as a counterweight to the realities of the time period he was living in. He also respects the canon of rather in-the-open controversy (something that More could not do, Literature • 131 as he had to avoid censorship), highlighting the unsatisfying state of affairs at the time. The fu- ture is incontrollable, thus more spectacular, the author inaugurating “a new paradigm for utopian literature not only by setting action in a specific future chronologically connected to our past and present but even more crucially by characterizing that future as one belonging to progress” (Forsström 2002, 127). By introducing a large number of fictional elements and breaking off with factual histori- cal data we end up in the realm of literature, of uchronias (utopic or dystopian ones) about the past. History is rewritten and becomes coun- terfactual, an element specific to utopia, but also to political sciences. In this context uchro- nia can be: 1) futuristic, based on the image of a future that can only be built—in accordance with its initial design—in fiction; 2) counter- H. G. Wells, The Time Machine: factual, rewriting a past that was altogether An Invention (1895) different. The following two examples should better clarify what I have stated. H. G. Wells’ The Time Machine (1895) is a futuristic uchronia, as the Time Traveler navigates through a hypothetical fu- ture. The situation is different in the case of Ray Bradbury’s A Sound of Thunder (1952), as the plot unfolds in the past. These observations allow us to notice another difference: travelling into the future rarely has an effect on the present described as a reference point in the narrative (particularly when the main char- acter does not return, or returns as a changed person), whereas travelling to the past can be a lot more dangerous, as it could alter the present in the narrative. In the case of Bradbury’s work, the accidental killing of a butterfly in Prehistory transforms the United States presented in the narrative into a fierce dictatorship (Robu 2006, 27). Uchronias built around the technological advances of the future became very fashionable at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th. This contributed to the literary genre becoming more dynamic, especially in the case of positive utopias and dystopias. Raymond Williams (1973, 273) would high- light the differences between William Morris’ and Herbert George Wells’ works, as they were contemporaries. The former developed his utopic vision in News from Nowhere (published in 1890). H. G. Wells wrote several volumes on this theme, the most important ones for this subject matter being When the Sleeper Wakes (1899), A Modern Utopia (1905), The World Set Free (1914), The Shape 132 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) of Things to Come (1933). Both focus on the industrialized society of their time, providing scenarios about the future deriving from the evolution of the current state of affairs. Morris presents a happy world. A character wakes up in the Lon- don of the future, where the socialist utopia is fulfilled. Heavy industry, based on coal, has disappeared, overcrowding is no longer an issue, and the mood and surroundings are rather rural. Wells was also preoccupied with socialist ideas, the effects of fierce capitalism and the consequences of industrialization. We do not see the same happy future in his case, as his The Time Machine (1895) is a brutal dystopia. This work can be included both in the science fiction genre (one encounters the scientific premise of building a time machine) and in the utopic genre, as it foreshadows a coher- ent world of the future. This declining world is counterbalanced by Wells’ more optimistic A Modern Utopia. This is not a fiction work, but a collection of essays on the future, without the filter of a literary character. This proves to be a risky endeavor, as, in spite of abundant arguments, the suggested scenarios become inconsistent at times. Wells the journalist seems to be less convincing than Wells the novelist. Even the future of utopia is utopian: “There will be many Utopias. Each generation will have its new version of Utopia, a little more certain and complete and real, with its problems lying closer and closer to the problems of the Thing in Being. Until at last from dreams Utopias will have come to be working drawings, and the whole world will be shaping the final World State, the fair and great and fruitful World State, that will only not be a Utopia because it will be this world. So surely it must be…” (Wells 2009, 410–411). The future means a world-state, harmonious and happy. This is not a utopia, but only a dream. The fact that Wells alternated optimistic and pessimistic visions should not surprise us, as the general impression is that he believed in a harmonious future for mankind. As S. Antohi (1991, 227) states, other authors of utopic works—such as Aldous Huxley or Ray Bradbury—had a similar evolution. Wells’s uchronic dystopia presents the world of the year 802701, when social division is radical. On the surface—only in daylight—one sees a paradisiacal space inhabited by the Eloi. The Morlocks live underground, their universe re- sembling hell (as traditionally perceived at that time). The Eloi benefit the work of the degenerate creatures living underground, as they are provided with food and clothes. The terrestrial Paradise is delusive and temporary, as death lurks in the shadows of each night. The Morlocks enjoy eating the flesh of the delicate Eloi, whom they hunt at night! Wells’s vision can be explained in the framework of contemporary studies on posthumanism. The English author himself sug- gests the Morlocks lost their human characteristics: “But there was an altogether new element in the sickening quality of the Morlocks, something inhuman and malign” (Wells 1895, 134). Literature • 133

W. Morris was proposing a simpler way of life achieved by means of mental relaxation. In the utopic London he imagined people were no longer prone to violence and confrontation, and their spiritual preoccupations were rather com- mon sense issues that focused on the common good. There is a dose of naiveté in all this construction (coming from both the author and his characters). An Edenic, rudimentary world overlaps with socialist utopia, though, obviously, the former type of society acknowledges the existence of divinity, whereas the latter rejects it. This is a form of “regressive utopism” as Antohi (1991, 229) calls it, as it rejects technology and praises the return to nature and the simple life. This social model is in accordance with the first type of ideal city imagined by Plato, without the elaborate structure he would use to define the ideal state in the Republic. However, Wells is not a consistent anti-technologist, considering that The Time Machine itself is based on top technological development.

Reinventing the Canon

s for the spatial characteristics Wells imagined, one notices he does not much stray from Plato, More or Campanella, although his city is rather A degenerate, not ideal. His world has material concreteness and the con- tours of an island dominated by a citadel, as in the case of More, Campanella and other utopists. In Wells’ case the limits of the island are not clearly described, but we can suppose that other inhabited (civilized) spaces are at great distance, neither the Eloi not the Morlocks having contact with anyone outside their uni- verse. The location is similar to the one imagined by Campanella (2007, 2), who had placed his City of the Sun beyond a forest, on a mountain standing in the middle of an endless plain. As in classic spatial utopias, the traveler in Wells’ uchronia arrives there by accident. This is a key element of this type of narrative. The traveler is expected to return to his initial world, where he is to recount his adventures in front of a select, educated public. Another element that classic spatial utopias and The Time Machine uchronia have in common is the fact that this traveler (navigator) has no name. In the case of More’s Hythlodeus we have a transparent pseudonym, T. Campanella’s The Genovese is a generic name, and so is Wells’ Time Traveler. Still, by writing various kinds of works on the possibilities of the future, some literary (tales and novels), some in an essayistic style, H. G. Wells does not construct distinct imaginary worlds, but rather redefines and makes the same utopic scenario more complete (Opriþã 1983, 94). Anticipation of the Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1902) is an important work in this context. It represents both a utopic and uchronic en- 134 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) deavor, also containing some dystopian elements. It presents the road leading to the New Republic, meaning the World State, a new ideal city which is also a “secret society” (Wells 1902, 276). Evidently, the transformation is not an easy one, the author himself admitting mankind would go through difficult periods, periods of confrontation and moral degradation, including sexual deviation. The new ideal city would be built using reason and the capacity to think (and to choose what is good), and this is, in itself, utopic and somewhat naive! Liedl (2015) convincingly showed that it was technological progress and a better so- cial organization that contributed to Wells’ more optimistic view on the future of mankind. In his utopic adventures (utopic meaning here the literary genre, including all of its subgenres) H. G. Wells follows the classic narrative scenario that More had set up, that of the traveler (or time traveler) that accidentally discovers new worlds, different societies that could be either an example or a counterexample for the society the explorer originated from. Of course, the classic structure would successively be improved or degraded by the contamination with the sci- ence fiction genre, particularly during the 20th century (Fortunati 2000). More lived in a time when human rights and individual liberties were not yet an im- portant topic and the Church had great power, a fact that determined an equally ambiguous and transparent shift of the critical accents from the English society of those times to the island of Utopia. Five centuries later, scientific advances and civil rights provided the background of Wells’ work. Thus his earlier novels were grim dystopias, assuming the role of warning signals. At the same time, Wells’ optimistic view begins to emerge, as the author exhibits a stubborn, al- most fundamentalist faith in the bright future of mankind and the Modern State. This attitude is surprising and it constitutes a break from More’s initial model, as More was subtly ironic even towards his great creation, Utopia. Wells would not have the strength to submit his own utopic constructions to critical examination. q

Notes

1. Hythloday is the English name. Some translations use the Latin form of the name, Hythlodeus. It is a compound name, originally coming from Ancient Greek and meaning “someone talking gibberish.” This fact further highlights the fictitious na- ture of both the character and the narrative. 2. The 1772 English title was Memoirs of the Year Two Thousand Five Hundred. Literature • 135

References

Alkon, Paul K. 2010. Origins of Futuristic Fiction. Athens: University of Georgia Press. Antohi, Sorin. 1991. Utopica: Studii asupra imaginarului social. Bucharest: Ed. ªtiin­ þificã. Braga, Corin. 2017. “Utopia: Between Eutopia and Outopia.” Transylvanian Review 26, Supplement 2: 167–176. Campanella, Tommaso. 2007. The City of the Sun. New York: Cosimo Classics. Cheney, Donald. 2007. “Narrative, romance, and epic.” In Cambridge Companion of Eng- lish Literature 1500–1600, ed. Arthur F. Kinney, 200–219. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Claeys, Gregory. 2013. “Three Variants on the Concept of Dystopia.” In Dystopia(n) Matters: On the Page, on Screen, on Stage, ed. Fátima Vieira, 14–18. Cambridge: Cambridge Scholar Publishing. Fitting, Peter. 2009. “A Short History of Utopian Studies.” Science Fiction Studies 36, 1: 121–131. Forsström, Riikka. 2002. Possible Worlds: The Idea of Happiness in the Utopian Vision of Louis-Sébastien Mercier. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Fortunati, Vita. 2000. “Utopia as a Literary Genre.” In Dictionary of Literary Utopias, eds. Vita Fortunati and Raymond Trousson, 634–643. Paris: Champion. Frye, Northrop. 1965. “Varieties of Literary Utopias.” Daedalus 94, 2: 323–347. Kinney, Arthur F. 2007. “Introduction.” In Cambridge Companion of English Literature 1500–1600, ed. Arthur F. Kinney, 1–10. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Liedl, Janice. 2015. “Tales of futures past: science fiction as a historical genre.” Rethink- ing History 19, 2: 285–299. Malcolm, Noel. 1997. The Origins of English Nonsense. London: Fontana Press. Mercier, Louis-Sébastien. 1772. Memoirs of the Year Two Thousand Five Hundred. Lon- don. https://archive.org/stream/memoirsofyeartwo02merc# page/n3/mode/2up. More, Thomas. 1684. Utopia. London. https://archive.org/stream/utopia1684more#page/ n3/mode/2up. Opriþã, Mircea. 1983. H. G. Wells: Utopia modernã: Eseu critic. Bucharest: Albatros. Osborne, Thomas. 2003. “Utopia, Couter-Utopia.” History of the Human Science 16, 1: 123–136. Plato. 1991. Republic. Transl. Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books. Robu, Cornel. 2006. Paradoxurile timpului în science-fiction. Cluj-Napoca: Casa Cãrþii de ªtiinþã. Sargent, Lyman Tower. 1994. “Three Faces of Utopianism Revisited.” Utopian Studies 5, 1: 1–37. Trousson, Raymond. 1979. Voyages aux pays de nulle part. Brussels: Editions de I’Université de Bruxelles. Wells, H. G. 1895. The Time Machine: An Invention. New York: Henry Holt and Com- pany. ——. 1902. Anticipation of the Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought. London: Chapman & Hall. 136 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

——. 2009. A Modern Utopia. Auckland: The Floating Press. Williams, Raymond. 1973. The Country & the City. London: Chatto & Windus.

Abstract Utopia and Uchronia: from Thomas More to H. G. Wells

The purpose of this study is to identify some general characteristics of utopia (or dystopia) as compared to uchronia. While Thomas More succeeded in giving firm contours to the spatial utopia, H. G. Wells was the author who reconfigured the geography of possible worlds in a temporal succession. Both authors would make use of the theme of travel, thus giving the read- ers the opportunity to understand their works as both a literary adventure and as an adventure of knowledge. The relationship between utopia (dystopia) and uchronia is a complex one, but one characteristic is evident: utopia can be constructed as a distinct topos, as a functional society, by making use of spatial elements. The uchronic topos is completely dependent on the spatial dimen- sions, as is the utopic one, but in order for it to take shape the utopic (dystopian) perimeter needs to have already been established, and then placed on a temporal axis. The contextual analysis of the ideas developed in Utopia and The Time Machine reveals elements that indicate interferences between two genres: utopia and science fiction. Thus the capacity of utopia (and also dystopia and uchronia) to function as a space of debate and reflection on the problems of today (the curent present) becomes evident. Yet the imaginary worlds (some of them can also be ideal), parallel or chronological, are coherent as convergent or divergent narratives.

Keywords utopia, dystopia, uchronia, Thomas More, H. G. Wells, science fiction Plus moderne M a ri u s N e n ci u l e s c u que les modernistes

Né le 8 mars 1917, (pseudonyme de Dumitru Petrescu) a eu son début poétique au milieu des années 30 quand, encore élève, il fait paraître un petit recueil de vers intitulé Melancolie1 (Mélancolie) (pour la publi- cation duquel il va dépenser tout son argent prévu pour payer la cantine). Sa reconnaissance sur la scène littéraire en tant que « poète nouveau »2 et extrême- ment original se produira un peu plus tard, dans la décennie suivante, lorsqu’il publie les recueils Noaptea geniului (La Nuit du génie) (1942), Ora fantasticã (L’Heure fantastique), préfacé par un texte d’E. Lovinescu, intitulé « O pla- Le portrait de Dimitrie Stelaru, réalisé par Ion Vlad (Timpul, n° 1772, 1942) netã de poet nou » (Une planète pour un poète nouveau)(1944) et Cetãþile albe (Les citadelles blanches) (1946). Dans les années 1937-1947 – une pé- riode qui se situe, sur le plan de la culture roumaine, entre deux événements ma- jeurs : d’une part, le début d’Emil Botta avec son recueil de poèmes, Întunecatul April (Avril sombre) et, d’autre part, la Marius Nenciulescu dernière année de liberté éditoriale en Chargé de cours à la Faculté de génie Roumanie –, Stelaru et ses camarades des matériaux et de l’environnement de de génération introduisent dans la lit- l’Université technique de Cluj-Napoca. Auteur, entre autres, du vol. Dimitrie térature roumaine un nouveau para- Stelaru şi paradigma poeticã a anilor digme poétique. Défini par l’abandon ’40 (Dimitrie Stelaru et le paradigme du radicalisme moderniste (entendu au poétique des années 40) (2011). sens large, c’est-à-dire incluant à la fois 138 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) le purisme, l’hermétisme et les poétiques de l’avant-garde), ce nouveau paradigme promeut le retour à une forme nouvelle d’expressivité, une expressivité qui a dé- canté et assimilé la leçon du modernisme.3 Ainsi, « la première tentative majeure de rendre la poésie roumaine transitive selon le modèle de Whitman appartient – de manière prévisible, pourrait-on dire, si l’on se rapportait à la logique interne des métamorphoses initiées dans le cadre du langage poétique moderne – à Dimitrie Stelaru, Victor Valeriu Martinescu et le groupe créé autour de la revue Albatros (et dont font partie, entre autres, , Sergiu Filerot ou ) ».4 Invoqué également dans des articles théoriques à fonction programmatique, le rejet du radicalisme moderniste par la nouvelle génération de poètes est tran- chant. Geo Dumitrescu affirmait à l’époque que,

dans sa vanité inoffensive, la formule « art pour art » […] nous avait montré qu’elle était bien trop longue, présentant un mot de plus. Il suffisait de dire : « art ! » […]. La formule pacifiste et gratuite était devenue impérialiste, péremptoire et in- tolérante. Elle avait creusé – et elle ne cesse de le faire depuis – un fossé entre la lit- térature et le peuple […]. Se tenant au loin, les yeux bandés, les créateurs s’étaient perdus dans des détails menus, dans des choses compliquées et inconsistantes, issues d’une virtuosité neurasthénique qui avait oublié son sens ou son résultat escompté.5

De son côté, Ion Caraion n’hésite pas à reprocher au futurisme et au dadaïsme d’avoir trahi la vie : « Le futurisme a trahi la vie. […] Le dadaïsme est allé encore plus loin, refusant même de la prendre en considération. »6 Selon Petru Comar- nescu, « le temps [était] venu pour une poésie humaniste », une poésie envisagée comme « une offrande lyrique apportée au vécu ».7 De tels positionnements ne sont point rares et, il convient de le noter, ils ne se cantonnent pas à l’espace littéraire bucarestois. « Resurecþia baladei » (La Résurrection de la ballade), le manifeste du Cercle littéraire de Sibiu, atteste nettement qu’au-delà des poé- tiques particulières, nous avons affaire à un état d’esprit généralisé. Ennuyé par une poésie transformée en « logorrhée » et qui ne disait plus rien, convaincu que « l’exclusivité esthétique ne fait pas le chef-d’œuvre », Radu Stanca avance l’idée d’un retour de la poésie à ses sources prémodernistes. Le retour de l’expres- sivité, le mélange des genres et le reconditionnement d’une formule poétique tenue pour révolue représentent les éléments majeurs d’une vision qui rendait ainsi manifeste son profond caractère antimoderniste.8 En regardant en arrière vers « l’état de la poésie roumaine de cette époque-là », Ştefan Aug. Doinaş reprend les mêmes thèmes : « on était loin de se contenter de l’esthétisme : “la poésie pure” que nous connaissions d’ailleurs bien (certains d’entre nous en avaient même fait l’expérience) nous semblait une formule stérilisante, incapable d’embrasser toute la complexité axiologique des œuvres vraiment majeures. Le Literature • 139

“purisme” et la “tour d’ivoire” ne nous apparaissaient pas comme un asile sécu- risant, mais bien comme un exil aseptique, voué à mettre frein à nos envols et à nous borner dans un expérimentalisme sans véritables perspectives. » 9 En accord avec ce nouveau paradigme, la poésie de Dimitrie Stelaru commu- nique des pensées et des sentiments, dévoile des attitudes critiques ou met en scène des rêveries.10 De là découlent, d’une part, une poétique du vagabondage11 et, de l’autre, une mythologie étrange où l’on rencontre, tour à tour, le Pays de la Peine, l’Île des sons, le Royaume sombre de Hell et, au niveau des personnages, Eumene, Elra, Iwa, le Roi Sans-Temps, la Reine des Brumes, l’Oiseau des Mal- heurs. Ressourçant sa poésie dans la tradition romantique, Stelaru nous dévoile un univers poétique à multiples contours qui remonte vertigineusement tantôt jusqu’aux troubadours tantôt vers les expressionnistes.

e sujet poétique emprunte à son tour des visages variés, quelquefois réa- listes (terrestres), d’autres fois idéels (astraux). Ses avatars réalistes sont L centrés autour de la figure du damné : « Nous, Dimitrie Stelaru, n’avons jamais eu part de Bonheur / Jamais un autre soleil n’a brillé pour nous sauf l’Humilité » (Înger vagabond/Ange vagabond), « Le chant de celui qui vit sans vivre ! » (Cetatea pãgânã/La cité païenne). Or la damnation prend souvent le visage de la pauvreté. Stelaru mentionne le « corps […] nu et affamé », le fait de coucher « dans des forêts, dans les banlieues de villes » ; faire la fête signifie avoir « […] du pain / Et une livre de menthe sur la table » (Ange vagabond). On entre- voit là l’imagerie ancienne du poète famélique et vagabond qui domine la poésie européenne surtout à l’époque des troubadours et des poètes de la Renaissance. Chez Stelaru, toutefois, elle a des sources plutôt autobiographiques et moins livresques comme c’est le cas des chanteurs de musique folk des années 70 ou 80. Même dans le cas où les renvois ne concernent pas directement le sujet, ils suivent la même direction de la damnation. Il y a chez Stelaru une damnation provoquée par l’éros (dans Balerina/La Danseuse : « elle n’était aimée par per- sonne »), la maladie (le lépreux dans Lepãdaþii/Les Rejetés), un handicap phy- sique (Şchioapa/La Boiteuse) ou l’art (Cântec de moarte/Chant de mort : les ar- tistes du cirque invitaient le public dans la salle, mais « personne n’y entrait ») ; il y a aussi une damnation dont la source reste obscure et concerne une certaine insatisfaction floue ou un échec (Vânzãtoarea de ziare/La Vendeuse de jour- naux : « Une larme […] / Racontait au loin une histoire de portes fermées »). C’est l’imparfait du souvenir qui introduit, en règle générale, de telles formes ou tranches de vie : « Il y avait un cirque à Turnu Mãgurele » (Chant de mort), « Il y avait une danseuse à Shanghai » (La Danseuse), « Il y avait au bord des vallées at- tristées un moulin à vent / C’était un moulin à vent abandonné » (Moara de vânt/ Le Moulin à vent). La hantise de la damnation s’observe également au niveau 140 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) lexical et de nombreux poèmes en portent l’empreinte : les anges dansent « la Ronde de la Vanité » (Insula sunetelor/L’Île des sons), le paradis est « affligé » Decor pentru Iwa/Décor pour Iwa), les amis sont « vaincus » (Lumina întuneri- cului/La Lumière des ténèbres) tandis que le corps est « infirme » (Luptãm/On combat). Déchiré entre un appel désespéré lancé à la Divinité (« Oh Père invi- sible, reçois ma prière : / la coupe est trop pleine, trop diabolique », Prea târziu/ Trop tard) et un sentiment d’arriver trop tard (« Mais alors ce sera trop tard », ibid.), tout ce qui reste à ce sujet damné, c’est de rêver à « l’homme d’un nouveau commencement », éclairé par « une vie nouvelle », libre inventeur d’un « corps nouveau d’une Paix, / Pour tous » (Omul nou/L’Homme nouveau). À ce messianisme particulier se joint le geste plus brutal de la révolte (une conséquence de l’ennui). La radiographie d’une existence larvaire et déchue vient en surimpression sur une sorte de férocité triste poussée à la limite de l’exaspéra- tion : « Ce matin je me suis réveillé près de Marie-Marie / Sur les planches du lit où traînent les poux et le sang / Et j’ai gobé l’indifférence comme un poison – / Puis j’ai craché dans le pot de gruau » (Maria-Maria/Marie-Marie). L’imaginaire déployé par ces vers rapproche la poésie de Stelaru de l’expressionnisme, et cela non seulement au niveau de la vision (comme on l’a déjà montré par ailleurs12) mais aussi au niveau réaliste, biographique et démythisant. Le damné poétique de Stelaru connaîtra pourtant un processus de transfi- guration par lequel il sera investi des attributs de la royauté (devenant ainsi le « Prince du Malheur ») et de la sacralité (« ange vagabond »). La taverne, l’un de ses espaces poétiques privilégiés connaîtra un destin similaire, participant à la fois de « la terre » et du « ciel ». Il n’en reste pas moins que le centre de toutes ces projections lyriques reste le damné, prophète de la poésie située au cœur du « désespoir du XXe siècle » (Profetul/Le Prophète). Pareille à du « pain chaud », la bien-aimée est décrite de manière réaliste, comme nous pouvons le voir dans un poème comme Olivia, un poème de l’amour heureux : « Peu m’importe que tu fermes la porte / Et que moi, je m’en- dorme ivre près de ton seuil ! / Il me suffit de te savoir proche / Et de connaître ton amour pour moi. » Mâinile (Les Mains) se situe dans la même zone de l’au- thenticité, jouant sur les contrastes entre la dimension poétique (l’astralité) de la corporalité et le prosaïsme (la mondanité) de l’intériorité : « Les mains blanches, blanches […] / Limpides, sur les épaules, fleurissent. / Leur ressemblance tient peut-être à la lune – / Mais la jeunesse, la jeunesse a du diabolique en elle. » Stelaru reprend sur son propre compte l’un des thèmes de l’imaginaire poé- tique de Mihai Eminescu, celui de l’écart qui se creuse entre l’idéal iconologique de la femme et la réalité. Ce thème prend chez lui la forme d’une opposition entre l’être et le paraître (la poupée ibsénienne), tandis que le tout se convertit dans une ivresse de la corporalité, dans un hymne rendu à la magie de la chair : « Tu étais censée être chant ou étoile – / Légende ou vent des hauteurs ; / […] Literature • 141

/ Tu n’es que de la terre. Déchire mes vêtements. » (Ar trebui/Il faudrait). Le poète manifeste sa prédilection pour un angélisme sensuel, différent de l’angé- lisme décorporalisé de l’archétype féminin romantique. Peuplé par des « anges de feu », des « démons des étoiles » ou des « Titans », l’univers chimérique de Dimitrie Stelaru baigne dans une irréalité floue. L’atti- tude préférée du sujet devient désormais celle démoniaque : « Comme j’étais brillant, moi, Lucifer / Près des hanches de la lune » (Dezastru/Désastre). La tentation sidérale ordonne tout son réseau de rêveries. Presqu’aucune attention, sauf une superficielle, n’est donnée au paysage terrestre dont les Ro- mantiques avaient célébré le caractère sauvage et grandiose. La même inatten- tion frappe aussi l’intérieur de la terre : les grottes ou les caves, des lieux propices pour les incantations, les charmes et les transmutations alchimiques, sont prati- quement absentes chez Stelaru. On n’y trouve pas non plus le profil romantique du sujet qui se réfugie dans la nature pour rêver à l’aise. Stelaru ne se sent pas attiré par le paysage commun ou familier, malgré le charme que celui-ci pourrait exercer sur n’importe qui : ce sont les clartés astrales qui le fascinent. C’est dans le ciel que se situent pour lui les forêts, les grottes ou les fleuves, à nous rapporter à ses textes où il imagine une matérialisation de l’élément aérien sous des formes tantôt terrestres tantôt aquatiques : « les forêts du ciel », « les grottes des hori- zons », « les fleuves du ciel ». En les plaçant dans un régime du sublime, Stelaru investit souvent les éléments de son imaginaire poétique d’ampleur et de vastitude : « les néants immenses », « les noyades formidables », « les grands assoiffements ». Il y a une prédilection certaine pour les étendues illimitées et l’envol extatique, le déclic poétique ne se déclenchant qu’à l’entrée en contact avec des objets surdimensionnés. Le motif de « la lune » mérite, quand à lui, une attention particulière. L’obses- sion de Stelaru pour cet élément confirme sa valeur d’image emblématique. Sa poésie est traversée par des expressions telles que « le serpent de la lune », « des parchemins lunaires » ou « les hanches de la lune » ; le sujet se déclare être de « la lune » (Heruvimul/Le Chérubin) ou affirme que la voie de la mort « se creuse dans la lune » (Apele morþii/Les Eaux de la mort). Il y a des correspondances étranges entre l’image de la lune et le corps humain : « Le cœur bat dans les lointains, morose et lunaire » (Mãri în sus/Mers en haut), « Leur ressemblance tient peut-être à la lune » (Les Mains), alors que dans les yeux de la danseuse de Shanghai on voit naître « des appels lunaires » (La Danseuse). Dans le poème intitulé Luna (La Lune), l’astre présente un isomorphisme fé- minin : « En tombant sur la table de travail, paresseux, / Ses cheveux semblaient être de cire. » On y retrouve associées la révélation et l’hallucination, deux états constitutifs du sujet lyrique ; elles sont placés sous le sceau du mystère et de la solitude mélancolique : « Mon amie, la lune » s’avère être « Féline et lointaine, pour toujours ». 142 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Il y a un double effet opéré par la magie lunaire. D’une part, elle émane une énergie négative marquée au niveau lexical par l’adjectif « lunatique », repris sou- vent par Stelaru (Eumene est « lunatique », les fjords, le nom de la bien-aimée, les villes et les flûtes le sont à leur tour). D’autre part, elle est responsable d’un renversement positif et d’une purification poétique : « Près des fleuves et des steppes lunaires / Des chérubins naissent à partir des mots » (Eumene/Eumene).

a poésie de Stelaru le consacre comme un poète profondément singulier dans l’histoire de la poésie roumaine. De nombreux critiques ont vu en L lui l’un des poètes les plus représentatifs de la « génération de la guerre ». Selon I. Negoiþescu, « l’apparition fulgurante de la “poésie du génie” a été saluée avec enthousiasme non seulement par les critiques, mais aussi […] par bien des poètes bucarestois. La poésie de Dimitrie Stelaru a un avantage incontestable sur la poésie de Ion Caraion, , Geo Dumitrescu, Miron Radu Para- schivescu […], ».13 Et Petru Poantã de poursuivre dans le même sens : « À l’intérieur d’une génération “perdue”, “ironique” ou “sarcas- tique”, une génération qui a déclaré la guerre à “l’illusion” et qui a été dominée par la présence furieuse de Geo Dumitrescu, l’imagerie de la fronde morale de Ion Caraion ou la mélancolie déçue de Constant Tonegaru, Dimitrie Stelaru s’impose […] comme un véritable chef de file grâce à son talent tout comme à l’assiduité avec laquelle il a fréquenté le milieu bohème de son temps. »14 Ainsi se fait-il que Dimitrie Stelaru a été dans la Roumanie des années 40 plus moderne et plus actuel que les partisans mêmes du purisme ou du surréalisme. Comme G. Cãlinescu le notait en 1937 dans un article publié dans le magazine Adevãrul literar şi artistic : « Valéry est périmé, Breton est déjà depuis longtemps périmé, lui aussi. […] Le temps viendra où nous goûterons au vers ample […], à l’éloquence orageuse et à la vision organisée, où nous sombrerons de nouveau dans “le sentiment”. On pressent les aubes d’une époque néoromantique. […] Il va pourtant sans dire que le nouvel esprit romantique puisera dans les expé- riences passées et retrouvera son inspiration enrichie par les troubles de cette période de transition. »15 q

Notes

1. Dimitrie Stelaru, « Noi, Dimitrie Stelaru, n-am cunoscut fericirea », in Adrian Pãunescu, Sub semnul întrebãrii. Interviuri, 2e édition revue et augmentée, Bucarest, Cartea Româneascã, 1979, p. 531. 2. E. Lovinescu, « Planetã de poet nou », Kalende (Bucarest), n° 8-9, 1943. Le texte de Lovinescu sera placé en avant-propos pour le recueil Ora fantasticã (1944). Literature • 143

3. D. Micu, « Ingenuitate, frondã, angajare », in Modernismul românesc, II, De la Ar- ghezi la suprarealism, Bucarest, Minerva, 1985, p. 201 : « Le renouveau qui se fait sentir dans la jeune poésie roumaine de la deuxième partie des années 30 et du début de la décennie suivante est à évoquer, toutes proportions historiques, sociales et lit- téraires gardées, la réaction naturiste contre le mallarméisme qui se produit dans la poésie française au cours de la dernière décennie du XIXe siècle. » 4. Gheorghe Crãciun, Aisbergul poeziei române, Piteşti, Paralela 45, 2002, p. 274. 5. Geo Dumitrescu, « O altã esteticã », Ecoul (Bucarest), n° 30, 1944, p. 2. 6. Ion Caraion, « Oraşul în literaturã », janvier 1944, in Duelul cu crinii, Bucarest, Car- tea Româneascã, 1972, p. 260. 7. , « Dez-umanizarea poeziei », Agora, Colecþie internaþionalã de artã şi literaturã (Bucarest), mai 1947, p. 169-194. 8. Radu Stanca, « Resurecþia baladei », Revista Cercului Literar (Sibiu), n° 5, 1945, p. 57-61. 9. Ştefan Aug. Doinaş, « I. Repere poetice, Radu Stanca şi spiritul baladesc », in Poezie şi modã poeticã, Bucarest, Eminescu, 1972, p. 107. 10. Ovid S. Crohmãlniceanu, « Forme inedite de lirism : Emil Botta, Virgil Gheorghiu, Dimitrie Stelaru, Maria Banuş », in Literatura românã între cele douã rãzboaie mondi- ale, II, Bucarest, Minerva, 1974, p. 572 : « Stelaru vit sur cette terre comme sur une terre d’exil. Le monde du poète est ailleurs. […] Son secret […] est à rechercher dans son geste d’assumer pleinement […] la condition d’un être créé différemment. » 11. Pompiliu Constantinescu insiste sur le rôle fondateur de Dimitrie Stelaru dans la littérature roumaine en ce qui concerne l’instauration d’une poésie du vagabondage (« Dimitrie Stelaru : Noaptea geniului, poeme », in Scrieri, 4, Bucarest, Minerva, 1970, p. 655). 12. Voir Ion Pop, « Nonconformismul spectacular : Geo Dumitrescu, Constant Tonegaru, Dimitrie Stelaru », in Jocul poeziei, Bucarest, Cartea Româneascã, 1985, p. 213-214. 13. Ion Negoiþescu, « Poeþi tineri de azi, D. Stelaru: Ora fantasticã », Revista Cercului Literar (Sibiu), n° 3, 1945. 14. Petru Poantã, « Dimitrie Stelaru », in (dir.), Scriitori români (mic dicþio- nar), Bucarest, Ed. Ştiinþificã şi Enciclopedicã, 1978, p. 437. 15. G. Cãlinescu, « Cartea româneascã. Cronica literarã. Saşa Panã, Iarba fiarelor », Adevãrul literar şi artistic (Bucarest), 31 octobre 1937, p. 15.

Abstract More Modern than the Modernists

Considered “a new poet” and deemed “a valedictorian,” Dimitrie Stelaru (1917–1971) consti- tutes a telling example of a modernity viewed as surpassing the modernist radicalism represented mainly by purism and . Thus, for the Romanian poetry of 1937–1947, being modern is no longer synonymous with being a modernist.

Keywords Dimitrie Stelaru, modern, modernism, Romanian poetry of 1937–1947 Book Reviews

les événements déroulés en Europe et en Andrew Tait Jarboe et Richard S. Fogarty, dir. Empires in World War I: Shifting Afrique pendant la guerre et souligne que Fron­tiers and Imperial Dynamics les actions de la Belgique sur le continent in a Global Conflict africain ont jeté les bases d’un « nouvel » Londres, I.B. Tauris, 2014 empire colonial. La situation a été la même dans la région de l’océan Indien. À l’ombre de l’Empire britannique, les nationalistes Le centenaire de la Première Guerre mondiale est une bonne occasion pour ont lutté pour l’indépendance et pour le les historiens de procéder à des reconsi- droit de fonder leur propre empire colo- dérations et des réévaluations, d’analyser nial. Maryanne A. Rhett montre dans son ce phénomène sous d’autres angles et de étude « Race and Imperial Ambition : The compléter le corpus de sources sur la pé- Case of Japan and India after World War riode 1914-1918 par l’introduction de do- I » que le Japon voulait également démon- cuments inédits dans le circuit scientifique. trer ses capacités d’avoir des missions colo- Fondé sur des sources primaires, le niales tout comme les grandes puissances volume ci-présent évoque la compétition européennes. Le chercheur Wm. Matthew entre les empires coloniaux avant et après Kennedy précise que pour mettre en ap- la Première Guerre mondiale, ouvrant de plication son plan d’expansion coloniale, nouveaux débats sur les effets de la Grande le Japon a tenté de donner un coup à la Guerre sur les colonies. Les treize cha- Chine, sans tenir compte du traité signé pitres du livre sont groupés en quatre sec- par les deux puissances. Dans son article tions thématiques. « A Pacific Scramble? Imperial Readjust- Chaque chapitre esquisse des aspects ment in the Asia Pacific, 1911-22 », il pro- particuliers du conflit international. Les pose deux études de cas, l’Australie et la études de la première section, « Myths Nouvelle Zélande, et évoque la politique and Realities of Imperial Expansions », menée par ces deux États pour s’affirmer démontrent que la Première Guerre mon- comme métropoles des empires coloniaux diale a constitué pour bien des participants qu’ils détenaient dans le Pacifique. une opportunité inégalable de réaliser les La deuxième partie de ce volume (« Sol- ambitions impériales. Dans son article, diers of Empire, Far from Home ») analyse « Digging-In : The Great War and the la ressource la plus importante d’un em- Roots of Belgian Empire », Matthew G. pire colonial, les gens. L’étude d’Andrew Stanard soutient que la guerre s’est avérée Tait Jarboe, « Propaganda and Empire in essentielle pour la formation de l’iden- the Heart of Europe : Indian Soldiers in tité impériale en Belgique, remodelant la Hospital and Prison, 1914-18 », fait une trajectoire de l’empire colonial belge. Il comparaison entre le mouvement de pro- met en évidence l’interdépendance entre pagande britannique et celui allemand. Book Reviews • 145

Se servant des rapports de Sir Walter (American Expeditionary Force) pendant Laurance, le responsable des hôpitaux la Première Guerre mondiale : l’impli- indiens en Grande Bretagne et en France, cation des Américains autochtones dans l’auteur démontre que la propagande l’armée, les débats au sujet de leur rôle, impériale britannique visait à gagner la leur service pendant la guerre et les consé- loyauté des soldats indiens qui luttaient sur quences de leur aide. L’auteur précise que le front d’Europe. D’autre part, la propa- les États-Unis, par rapport à leurs alliés, gande allemande dans les camps de prison- la Russie, la Grand Bretagne et la France, niers de guerre a été, à son avis, un échec, étaient une puissance impériale qui exer- même si les autorités allemandes avaient çait un colonialisme intérieur. À la diffé- fait construire des mosquées à l’usage des rence des Indiens et des Pakistanais, les prisonniers musulmans. Amérindiens n’ont pas agi comme des Les effets de la propagande française troupes coloniales, leur situation pouvant et de celle allemande sur les soldats dans être comparée à celle des Tatars et des Co- les colonies françaises sont présentés par saques en Russie. Ils ont servi dans l’armée Richard S. Fogarty dans son étude « Out américaine pour prouver leur loyauté et of North Africa : Contested Visions of leur patriotisme et pour gagner le respect French Muslim Soldiers during World War de « la société dominante » qui contrôlait I ». Bien que la propagande allemande eût à la fois la vie politique et économique sur fait appel à la solidarité musulmane, les le continent. soldats nord-africains sont restés loyaux Les articles de la troisième partie, à la métropole, résistant à la propagande « Thinking Imperially, Acting Locally », allemande et à celle ottomane, alors que la sont centrés sur l’interaction entre la mé- principale préoccupation des colons a été tropole et la colonie. Dans son étude, « Ci- de survivre. tizenship, Military Service and Managing La question de la cohésion et de la dis- Exceptionalism : Originaires in World War cipline dans les armées impériales est évo- I », Sarah Zimmerman analyse le compor- quée par Julian Saltman dans son article tement des soldats africains dans l’armée « “The Full and Just Penalty ?” British française. La Première Guerre mondiale Military Justice and the Empire’s War et les lois Blaise Daigne ont apporté des in and Palestine ». Se servant de changements en ce qui concerne la citoyen- sources inédites, telle que la transcription neté française dans les colonies pour les procédurale à la cour martiale (field-gene- tirailleurs sénégalais et pour les originaires. ral courts martial), l’auteur analyse la ma- L’auteur montre que pour les derniers, le nière dont la justice militaire a été exercée régime politique colonial a compté plus en relation avec les soldats de l’Empire bri- que la législation qui leur avait offert la tannique en Palestine pendant la Première citoyenneté française pendant la guerre. Guerre mondiale Se servant des registres des mission- L’étude « “It was a Pretty Good War, naires, Kenneth J. Orosz met en discussion but they Stopped it too Soon” : The Ame-­ dans son article, « For God and Country : rican Empire, Native Americans and Missionary Service in Colonial Africa du- World War I » de Steven Sabol met en ring World War I », l’importance du service discussion quatre thèmes associés aux ac- missionnaire pendant la Première Guerre tions des Américains autochtones de l’aef mondiale. Les autorités locales d’Afrique 146 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) avaient recruté de nombreux missionnaires président Woodrow Wilson et, surtout, le et permis la fraternité dans l’armée locale, principe de l’autodétermination nationale. ces missionnaires fonctionnant comme des L’étude de John Lack et Bart Ziino, militaires. Au moment où les puissances de « Requiem for Empire : Fabian Ware & l’Entente ont pris le contrôle de la région the Imperial War Graves Commision », est africaine, les autorités ont eu recours à fondée sur des documents trouvés dans les des missionnaires pour ouvrir des écoles à archives de la Commission impériale des l’usage de la population indigène. tombes de guerre (Imperial War Grave Le chercheur Erin Eckhold Sassin nous Commission). Les auteurs nous rappellent propose une étude centrée sur la Haute Si- que, pendant la guerre, la Grande Bre- lésie dans l’article « The Visual Politics of tagne avait créé une commission chargée Upper Silesian Settlements in World War d’entretenir les tombes des soldats de l’em- I ». Il montre que les autorités allemandes pire morts sur les champs de bataille. ont beaucoup investi dans le développe- Ce volume enrichit l’historiographie ment de l’industrie minière et de l’indus- de la Grande Guerre, en mettant en valeur trie lourde de la région, ce qui a conduit à des sources inédites telles que rapports l’apparition de nouvelles localités urbaines militaires, registre de missionnaires, docu- et à la consolidation d’une identité eth- ments officiels d’archives et testaments des nique et nationale allemande. soldats. Par la variété de sujets qu’il nous Les effets de la Grande Guerre sur les propose – la situation des soldats indiens consciences des colons sont analysés dans dans les hôpitaux de Grande Bretagne et la quatrième section du volume, « After- de France, l’importance du service des lives of War and Empire ». L’étude de Amérindiens dans l’armée américaine, la Richard Smith, « World War I and the Per- propagande de guerre des Allemands, des manent West Indian Soldier », évoque le Anglais et des Français, l’apogée et la chute sort des anciens soldats et marins indiens des empires coloniaux –, il est recomman- qui, à l’issue de la guerre, avaient espéré dé à tous ceux qui sont concernés par l’his- obtenir la citoyenneté, recevoir des terres toire de la Première Guerre mondiale. et avoir des opportunités d’embauche, en q vertu du sacrifice humain du temps de la Raluca Botoş guerre. Ils ont fini par émigrer en masse vers l’Amérique, en quête de travail. Alan McPherson présente dans son article, « World War I and us Empire in the Americas », les tentatives des États- Unis d’élargir leur empire colonial dans la région des Caraïbes. Ainsi, en 1915, ils occupent l’île d’Haïti et, une année plus tard, la République Dominicaine. Après la guerre, comme les États-Unis voulaient prolonger et consolider cet élargissement territorial, ils se sont heurtés à une résis- tance locale qui défendait les 14 points du Book Reviews • 147

ponent of an interesting project involving Fabien Théofilakis, ed. Cote à côte: Berry-au-Bac researchers from important centres belong- dans la Première Guerre mondiale: ing to both aforementioned countries, the Perspectives franco-allemandes book presents the way in which professors sur les fronts de l’Aisne from French and German universities have L’Allemagne dans les relations interna- discovered and reconstructed, step by step, tionales. Deutschland in der internatio­ the battles that took place there and the at- nalen Beziehungen 11 mosphere in the trenches. Bruxelles etc.: Peter Lang, 2017 Divided into six small parts and accom- panied by a foreword signed by Annette Becker and an introduction by Fabien Théofilakis, the book provides in its first he commemoration of the centenary T part (pp. 55–80) information about the of the First World War has led to the pub- lication of some interesting books that context of the battles that took place at Berry-au-Bac and describes the units that bring to attention important events in the fought there, showing relevant aspects of history of this moment, a huge editorial the conflagration, offering information process of documentary restitution and a about the commanders of these units and tremendous work of historians who offer underlining other important elements per- a reinterpretation of sources or new ap- taining to the matter. Then, in the second proaches to already known events. Among part (pp. 81–172), the rediscovery of the the latest publications devoted to this place blends with the reading of sources topic, quite worthy of attention is the one and the examination of photographs, in an edited in 2017 in both French and Ger- attempt to describe the way in which the man by Fabien Théofilakis of Paris 1 Pan- battles unfolded, to understand the strate- théon Sorbonne University (Die Höhe 108 gies and the role of the ammunition used bei Berry-au-Bac im Ersten Weltkrieg: Die in the whole process. The third part (pp. Fronten an der Aisne aus deutscher und fran- 173–224), titled “Living the War, Saying zösischer Sicht). the War, Recounting the War,” is focused It is difficult to classify this book as be- on the memorials dedicated to the place, ing part of a specific category, such as docu- on their topic and relevance, while the fol- mentary restitution, historical research, or lowing one (pp. 225–284) speaks about reference literature, because it features ele- the alternation between fighting and quiet ments from each of these genres. It con- periods in the investigated space. tains a presentation of documents, a well- In the two texts belonging to the fifth done historiographical survey which helps section (pp. 285–310), the first signed by the reader to understand who had written Pierre Le Dauphin and the second one by about this topic up to that moment and to Stefan Schubert, after investigating em- see what were the most important contri- pirical aspects related to the space and de- butions, but also interesting analyses dedi- scribing in detail the work of students, the cated to the battlefield of Berry-au-Bac, authors decided to insert, at the end of the which saw some important battles between last section of the book (pp. 311–336), six the French and German armies. As a com- interviews with archivists about various as- 148 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) pects of the First World War and especially In Bistriþa-Nãsãud County, research- of the Berry-au-Bac battles. ers from the local department of the Na- Wencke Meteling (pp. 337–353) of tional Archives, from the local museums, Marburg University is the author of the together with other specialists, published afterword, which highlights the contribu- interesting texts in this field. Quite re- tion of the authors coordinated by Fabien cent are the documents about the officer Théofilakis to the understanding of the Albert Porkolab: Ion Cârja, Dan-Lucian First World War and to the rediscovery of Vaida, Loránd L. Mádly, and Dan Pra- important spaces and sources that provide hase, eds., Un ardelean în Marele Rãzboi: us with rich information about the way in Albert Porkolab (1880–1920) (A Transyl- which the conflagration took place. vanian in the Great War: Albert Porkolab, As we have tried to show in our short 1880–1920) (Cluj-Napoca, 2016), as well presentation, the aforementioned book is as many studies on the articles published not only an important historiographical in local magazines. contribution, but also a documentary book Another recent contribution to this which brings to attention historical and subject is the documentary volume en- practical information about the First World titled The War Behind the Trenches: Docu- War and contributes to a better understand- mentary Contributions Related to Bistriþa- ing of the battles fought at Berry-au-Bac. Nãsãud County. Its main editors are Mr. q Adrian Onofreiu and Mrs. Cornelia Vlaşin, Iuliu-Marius Morariu who were helped by the historians Dorin Dologa, Nicoleta Preda, Andreea Salvan, Dana Vãran, and Gabriela Molnar. Adrian Onofreiu and Cornelia Vlaşin, eds. Its foreword (pp. 7–22) presents gen- Rãzboiul din spatele tranşeelor: eral aspects about the conflagration as well Contribuþii documentare referitoare as particular elements about the investi- la judeþul Bistriþa-Nãsãud gated area and information related to the (The war behind the trenches: researched sources. Based on a compre- Documentary contributions related hensive, albeit incomplete, bibliography, it to Bistriþa-Nãsãud County) may be considered a useful guide to the Cluj-Napoca: Argonaut, 2017 historiography of the First World War in Bistriþa-Nãsãud County and an instrument that highlights sources for future research The commemoration of the centenary in the field. The foreword is followed by of the First World War has led to the pub- a note on the edition (pp. 23–24), where lication of important books, volumes of the editors present the list of the documen- studies and relevant documents from or tary findings they used in their investiga- about that period. Many conferences, sem- tion and some technical aspects of their inars, debates and other manifestations on work, and by the list of 260 documents this topic, or on topics linked to it, were presented (pp. 25–45). After that, the held in order to highlight new aspects of reader is invited to discover a part of the the conflagration and to analyze in a dif- correspondence from the battlefield, docu- ferent way aspects that are already known. ments of the Church (episcopal form let- Book Reviews • 149 ters, certificates, instructions for parishes, still in use in some regions of the county and so on), official school papers, lists of and of the country. In our opinion, such heroes of the conflagration from villages explanations are not necessary. For exam- such as Rebrişoara (pp. 275–282) and ple, it would be better to replace these Şieu (pp. 283–294), and even a play (pp. digressions with short biographies of the 295–303). The work introduces the reader important local personalities mentioned in to the complex universe of the war, high- the documents. lighting the problems of the combatants, Despite these minor shortcomings of of the people who remained home, of the the book, which surely can be amended in Church and of the schools, and facilitates a future edition, the volume is an impor- a direct contact with the sources and with tant contribution to contemporary histo- the testimonies of the people who suffered riography and to the investigation of the so much. Despite the censorship, some First World War and of its consequences in aspects that highlight the difficult life in Bistriþa-Nãsãud County, one that should the trenches, the hard life of the widows not be absent from the libraries of the re- and of the lonely women from the county searchers tackling this subject. villages are still present in the letters sent q to representative people like teacher Ioan Iuliu-Marius Morariu Marcu. The latter is the source of many of the published documents. Therefore, we can conclude that this Harald Heppner, ed. book is an important contribution to the Umbruch mit Schlachtenlärm: reconstruction of the image of the First Siebenbürgen und der Erste Weltkrieg World War and to its understanding, given Cologne–Weimar–Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, the impressive number of primary sources Siebenbürgisches Archiv, 44, 2017 offered and the novelty of the informa- tion they contain. Like with all important researches, there are some shortcomings World War I had a tremendous im- that, however, do not diminish its value. pact upon Transylvania and its inhabitants, Thus, for example, there is no index of decisively changing the history of this re- places and names, very useful for any re- gion by causing its separation from Aus- searcher who has no time to read the entire tria-Hungary and the subsequent union book and who is searching just for a name with Romania, in keeping with the desire or a place, and there are no biographical of the majority population, democratically notes on the important people mentioned. expressed in the autumn of 1918. In recent It would be surely very useful for a reader years, several conferences and a significant to find out, in a few words, who was Ioan number of articles, individual and collec- Marcu, who left behind such a wealth of tive volumes have approached, from vari- documents, or who was Liviu Pãiuş, etc. ous and multidisciplinary perspectives, the On the other hand, there is an excessive impact of the war upon this province and preoccupation with explaining archaisms. the manner in which the people of that For this reason, the editors are, from time time remembered and recounted the expe- to time, explaining even words that are riences of those dreadful years. Thus, an- 150 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) other book devoted to this topic is not like- mental reversal that overwhelmed nearly ly to be seen as a surprise by the historians all those involved,” and it ends with two and the general readers in this geographic abstracts in Romanian and Hungarian, area. However, given the chosen approach followed by a descriptive list of contribu- and its content, the book presented in tors (Germans, Hungarians, Romanians, what follows is indeed a novelty, portray- and Austrians), an index of names and one ing in a new light both Transylvania and of localities. its inhabitants before, during, and in the The first two studies included in part aftermath of World War I. Coordinated one present the diplomatic and military by the reputed emeritus professor of Karl- perspective of the Austro-Hungarian state Franzens University of Graz (Austria), upon Transylvania. Gerald Volkmer (The Harald Heppner, a specialist in the history Federal Institute for the Culture and the of Central and Southeast Europe, the vol- History of the East-European Germans, of ume stirs the reader’s attention from the Oldenburg) approaches a topic to which very first instance on account of its title: he devoted a doctoral thesis in the years A Reversal of Fortunes Amid the Din of Bat- 2000 (the impact of the Transylvanian tle: Transylvania and World War One. The issue upon the diplomatic relations be- book was published at a prestigious Ger- tween Germany, Austria-Hungary, and man academic publishing house, Böhlau, Romania during the first two years of the as volume 44 in the series “The Transyl- war), and the reputed military historian vanian Archive,” edited by the Association Manfred Rauchensteiner (emeritus pro- for Transylvanian Studies (founded by the fessor at Vienna University) discusses the Saxons in Sibiu in 1843), with the support role ascribed to Transylvania, a hereditary of the secretariat for culture and media of province of the Austrian Crown, decades the German federal government. before 1914, in the general pursuit of a The volume contains some of the pa- clear strategy for the Austro-Hungarian pers presented at the conference organized army. Then comes the comprehensive by the Association for Transylvanian Stud- analysis performed by Zsolt K. Lengyel ies at Graz University, between 5 and 6 (The Hungarian Institute at Regensburg), September 2014, with the motto “World concerning the planned reforms and the War I,” and is structured into three parts: strategies of the Hungarian government “Transylvania before World War I,” with in regard to Transylvania, before, during, five studies, “Transylvania during World and right at the end of the war, when the War I,” with eight studies, and “Transyl- cabinet in Budapest had less and less room vania after World War I,” with another five to maneuver following the Romanian studies. The volume begins with a fore- claims and given the international context. word by Professor Harald Heppner, who The last two pieces, signed by Stéphanie highlights the element of novelty repre- Danneberg and Enikø Dácz of the Munich sented by the structure of the volume and Institute for the Culture and the History points out the two elements of the war of the Germans of Southeast Europe, dis- that fundamentally affected Transylvania, cuss the relations between the Saxons and namely, the battlefronts that opened in the the Transylvanian Romanians between region in the year 1916 and the events oc- 1910 and 1916, strained by the adoption curred in late 1918, which led to a “funda- in 1905 of the activist political program of Book Reviews • 151 the Romanian National Party, and respec- Irmgard and Werner Sedler (civil servants tively the actions and the speeches of the in Kornwestheim), and respectively by Transylvanian mps—Saxons, Hungarians, Frank M. Schuster (professor at the Fac- and Romanians—in the Budapest Parlia- ulty of Philology of the Academy of Hu- ment during the war, demonstrating that manities and Economic Science of Łódz´, as the war progressed the positions be- Poland) discuss the common topic of the came increasingly divergent. events and the experiences (adventure, sol- The “din of battle” mentioned in the idarity, fear, anxiety) lived by the Saxons of title, with reference to what happened in Veseud (Ziedt) and Cisnãdie (Heltau) in Transylvania during the war, can be heard the years of the Great War, and respective- in the eight studies included in part two ly in the autumn of 1916, when the Ro- of the volume, which essentially focus on manian royal army began its offensive in the world of the common people (soldiers, southern Transylvania. The primary source housewives, doctors, and military priests), shared by these two contributions are the involved in various manners in the events Saxon war memoirs, also employed by the of the war. The first two studies, signed authors of the other pieces featured in this by Harald Roth (The German Cultural second part of the volume. East-European Forum of Potsdam) and by The following three studies focus on Ulrich A. Wien (professor at the Institute the collective and individual destiny of two of Evangelical Theology of Koblenz-Lan- socio-professional categories that played dau University) are devoted, on the one an essential role in providing assistance hand, to the life of Transylvania’s cities be- to the combatants on the battlefronts: tween 1914 and 1918, ravaged by battles the army doctors and priests. Hansgeorg and hosting the command centers of the von Killyen (high inspector of schools in military and civilian authorities and, on Lahr/Black Forest) writes about the Saxon the other, to the life and activity of the doctors of Sibiu during wartime and the Transylvanian Saxon Evangelical Church challenges they had to meet, while Erika of the Augustan Confession, at central and Eckbert Schneider (professors in Ras- (bishopric), regional (deaneries) and lo- tatt) present the experiences of the Saxon cal level (parishes), in the areas located doctor Hermann Breckner (1892–1976), on or near the battlefront. Ingrid Schiel on the basis of previously unpublished (The Transylvanian Institute of Gun- memoirs and of 63 postcards and letters delsheim) comes up with new perspectives belonging to him and currently found in on the contribution of Saxon women to the private collection of his descendants. the war between 1914 and 1918 and in The story of Doctor Breckner shows that, 1918–1919—when the absence of men just like for many other Transylvanian doc- led to significant changes in the traditional tors and soldiers, the separation from the economy of the households and also in the homeland meant not only one’s presence modern urban and industrial one, as the in army hospitals or on the battlefront, women were forced to take the place of but also long periods in captivity—in his the men—, and also on the impact of the case, the “war memoirs” cover six and a Transylvanian front and of the revolution half years, of which five years and two from the autumn of 1918 upon the life of months spent as a prisoner of war in Sibe- women. The next two studies, signed by ria. The last study included in this section, 152 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) signed by Ionela Zaharia (Babeº-Bolyai interrelated aspects: the relations of the University of Cluj-Napoca), briefly pres- Transylvanian Hungarians with the Ro- ents a topic to which the young researcher manians and the Saxons during the war, devoted a doctoral thesis—defended in and the cult of heroes and the war mem- 2016 at the Faculty of History and Phi- oirs of the Hungarians in Romania be- losophy of Babeº-Bolyai University—and tween 1918 and 1940, and of the Hun- several other articles published both in garians living in in Romanian and in international languages, 1940–1944. Bernhard Böttcher (professor namely, the activity of the Orthodox and at Paderborn University) writes about the Greek Catholic army priests in Transylva- war memoirs of the Transylvanian Saxons nia during the war. Drawing on primary and of the Banat Swabians during the in- sources identified in the War Archives of terwar period, presenting, with edifying Vienna, Ionela Zaharia begins by present- examples, the manner in which the Saxons ing the organization of religious services and the Swabians took care of the graves, in the Austro-Hungarian army during the the plaques and the commemorative mon- war, and continues with the mission and uments devoted to the heroes who died on the pastoral care provided by the priests to the battlefield. Finally, Markus Lörz (The the Romanian soldiers on the battlefront, Transylvanian Museum of Gundelsheim) behind the frontlines, and in hospitals. comments upon the war art of philatelist The third part includes five studies de- and artist Ludwig Hesshaimer, born in voted to the events occurred after the war Braºov in 1872 but relatively little known and during the interwar period. The first in his native region. two texts present the political activity of The book presents the European his- two Transylvanians: Professor Rudolf Gräf toriography with the results of the latest (vice-rector of Babeº-Bolyai of Cluj-Nap- research devoted to the Great War in Tran- oca) writes about the Banat social-demo- sylvania, also providing relevant analyses crat Koloman Müller in the years 1918– of the pre-war situation and of the subse- 1919, on the basis of his memoirs, while quent developments. On the other hand, Florian Kührer-Wielach (director of the the articles included in the volume come Munich Institute for the Culture and the to complete, enrich and refine the inves- History of the Germans of Southeast Eu- tigations carried out in recent years by rope) presents the political activity of Iuliu Romanian researchers, showing that the Maniu, largely on the basis of articles pub- representatives of the various nations or lished in Romanian newspapers (Ardealul, ethnic groups that once lived or still live in Gazeta Ardealului). The latter sought to Transylvania, while having their own per- illustrate the utter “disappointment” ex- spectives on the history of this land and of perienced by Maniu and by the Romanian their ancestors, are nevertheless capable of politicians from Transylvania a few years building bridges and setting up joint proj- after the creation of Greater Romania, an ects. approach never encountered in Romanian q historiography. The following three pieces Mircea-Gheorghe Abrudan discuss matters pertaining to culture and cultural history. Franz Sz. Horváth (school counselor in Rüsselheim) approaches two Book Reviews • 153

ics, Concepts, Perspectives” the editors Christa Hämmerle, Oswald Überegger, talk about the aim of the book, namely, and Birgitta Bader Zaar, eds. to raise the gender issue in the context of Gender and the First World War the upcoming centenary of the First World New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014 War, considering that the mainstream his- tory of the First World War still ignores this perspective. So the chapters featured his volume presents some of the pa- T in the book outline a comparative perspec- pers, extended and revised, of the confer- tive on gender concepts, on the role and ence “The First World War in a Gender visibility of the women in First World War, Context—Topics and Perspective” which on concepts like “violence, pacifism, con- was held in Vienna between 29 September temporary peace movements, and the is- and 1 October 2011. sue of citizenship” (p. 2). The studies included in this volume In the second chapter, “Women Behind present a variety of gender-related topics, the Lines: The Friuli Region as a Case from violence, pacifism, women’s rights, Study of Total Mobilization, 1915–1917,” citizenship during the First World War, to the author, Matteo Ermacora, talks about homosexual behavior among the soldiers the role of women in the northern region of the German Army. All of the papers are of Italy, Friuli, which became a rear area of dedicated to the European space, within a the Italian front. Using different sources, somewhat Eurocentric approach. Only in such as military and administrative records, “Towards a New Internationalism: Pacifist letters, and newspapers, he seeks to exam- Journals Edited by Women, 1914–1919” ine the relationship between women and and “‘A foolish dream of sisterhood’: Anti- society during the war, the mobilization of Pacifist Debates in the German Women’s women and their changing role from the Movement, 1914–1919” there are some household to the male professions. Even mentions of the American women’s orga- though the war changed gender relations, nizations which were actively present in this was only temporary, especially in ru- Europe. Also, the Balkans are only men- ral communities. Gender stereotypes were tioned in the article by Tina Bahovec, reinstated after the war and the women “Love for the Nation in Times of War: were still seen as second-class persons after Strategies and Discourses of the Nation- the war. But the war effort made women al and Political Mobilization of Slovene aware of their rights in society, which had Women in Carinthia from 1917 to 1920,” an effect in the long run (p. 31). when the Carinthians had to choose be- The next chapter, “Imagining and tween Austria and the Kingdom of , Communicating Violence: The Cor- Croats and Slovenes. But this fact is also respondence of a Berlin Family, 1914– mentioned by the editors, who consider 1918,” written by Dorothee Wierling, that the discussion should include more examines the correspondence of four intel- “Eastern and Southern European case lectuals in Germany. Lily Braun, a feminist studies” (p. 6). and activist, was in favor of the war and The book has 14 chapters. In the first considered motherhood as way of fight- chapter “Introduction: Women’s and Gen- ing the war. Her son, Otto, volunteered der History of the First World War—Top- for the front, while her husband Heinrich 154 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018)

Braun was seen as the “least masculine” of line and witnessed the violence and suffer- them because he never got into “the mood ing of the war. If during the war they were of war” (p. 48). The fourth person was seen as “white angels, sisters or mothers Julie Vogelstein, a friend of the family, an (p. 99), after 1918 the nurses were hardly art historian who saw the war as a modern remembered and appreciated, especially in Greek drama (p. 36). the countries that had lost the war. Their In the fourth chapter, “Love in the experience of the war, which was similar to Trenches: German Soldiers’ Conceptions that of soldiers, was only much later taken of Sexual Deviance and Hegemonic Mas- into consideration. culinity in the First World War,” Jason The next study, “Remembering French Crouthamel argues that soldiers created and British First World War Heroines,” their own conception of “good comrade” signed by Alison S. Fell, refers to the (p. 53) and that homosexuality and homo- British and French heroines who became social activities were seen as necessary for legends in their countries. After 1914 the surviving the horrors of the war. Although journalists, writers, and artists construct- they were still seen as social outcasts, ho- ed a heroic type of woman, a role model, mosexuals “were made into real men” (p. meant to boost morale and the war effort. 68) by the war experience and they had Usually these heroines acted on the front- another perspective on the masculine ideal. line, and some of them became martyrs. The next chapter, “Visualizing ‘War While the heroine-martyrs had their pres- Hysterics’: Strategies of Feminization and tige assured, for those who survived the Re-Masculinization in Scientific Cinema- war it was very difficult to maintain that tography, 1916–1918” by Julia Barbara status. In a postwar climate that encour- Köhne, deals with the way in which cin- aged women to return to domestic activi- ematography was used in the field of mili- ties, a status usually reserved for the males tary psychiatry. Cinematography was sup- was no longer welcome in their case (p. posed to help the medical community deal 123). with the increasing number of soldiers suf- In the following study, “The Baby in the fering from “war hysteria” (p. 75), with Gas Mask: Motherhood, Wartime Technol- symptoms like dizziness, amnesia, prob- ogy, and the Gendered Division Between lems with speaking, sitting, walking, and it the Fronts During and After the First was seen like a disease, just like female hys- World War,” Susan R. Grayzel focuses on teria. The people affected by this disease how the new war technology had a direct were considered the very opposite of the impact on the women and children, catego- strong soldier and of the symbol of mascu- ries located well behind the frontlines. With linity. In all countries, medical films were the aerial bombardment of civilian areas, trying to present the complete recovery of the First World War erased the boundaries the “hysterics” as a certainty. between “home front” and “frontline” (p. In “Mentally broken, physically a 140). The threat to mothers and children wreck...: Violence in War Accounts of changed their status, they could now be- Nurses in Austro-Hungarian Service,” come the direct victims of the modern war. Christa Hämmerle, drawing on the mem- In the postwar period, the mother and her oirs of wartime nurses, discusses the histo- child became the image of the victims of the ry of these women who were on the front- future war (p. 133). Book Reviews • 155

Claudia Siebrecht, in “The Female effects of the ‘man made world’ (p. 177). Mourner: Gender and the Moral Econo- Ingrid Sharp, in “‘A foolish dream of sis- my of Grief During the First World War,” terhood’: Anti-Pacifist Debates in the Ger- deals with “the moral economy of grief” man Women’s Movement, 1914–1919,” (p. 146) in Germany and argues that it analyzes women’s organizations in Ger- was highly gendered and that women were many. She argues that in 1914, before expected to endure with pride the pain of de war, the discourse had been that of loss and to bear the sacrifice with strength. pacifism and international solidarity, yet This model, adopted by the authorities, after the outbreak of the war the major- the church, the press and other male-dom- ity of women “supported the war policies inated sectors, was also expected from the of their government and suspended their female population, asked to willingly bear international contacts for the duration of the wartime sacrifice with stoicism. the war” (p. 195). Only a small minority Manon Pignot’s study “French Boys continued to have international contacts and Girls in the Great War: Gender and the and to oppose the war. Also, the context in History of Children’s Experiences, 1914– which German women operated was unfa- 1918” follows the experience of children vorable to the feminist goals. During the in the Great War and uses gender as a tool war years the women’s society was very to analyze the differences between boys divided and intolerant with regard to the and girls, taking the example of France. opposing views. The author draws on sources such as dia- The last 2 papers deal with the women’s ries, letters, and drawings, as well as oral movements and citizenship rights in Lithu- testimonies which show that the division ania and Carinthia. Virginija Jure˙niene˙, in male/female was also kept in the case of “War Activities and Citizenship Rights in the young population. The children were and outside the Occupied Zone: Lithu- also engaged in the wartime economics, anian Women During the First World War” besides working hard in school. There was follows the Lithuanian women during the a difference between the occupied territo- First World War. They were active in both ries and the free ones, and children’s ex- charity and women’s rights. This commit- perience was not influenced by country or ment was strongly related to the Lithuanian nationality but mainly by the place where emancipation from Russian rule (p. 214). the war was experienced (p. 173). Large parts of Lithuania were occupied by The next two studies discuss the paci- the Germans, so initially they could only fist and anti-pacifist women’s movements. campaign in Russia, while in the occupied Bruna Bianchi, in “Towards a New In- regions they helped citizens to endure the ternationalism: Pacifist Journals Edited German occupation (founding schools, by Women, 1914–1919,” approaches the taking care of children, opening canteens, new absolute pacifism that emerged dur- nursing patients) (p. 226). ing the war, based on the writings pub- In “Love for the Nation in Times of lished in journals edited by women. She War: Strategies and Discourses of the Na- declares that this new form of militarism tional and Political Mobilization of Slo- changed the traditional role of the woman, vene Women in Carinthia from 1917 to from “nurturing and caring” into a force 1920,” the author, Tina Bahovec, takes capable of counteracting the devastating us to the Habsburg Monarchy, in a region 156 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) with a mixed population: Slovene and Louis Joseph Vionnet ethnic German. The outbreak of the war Retragerea lui Napoleon din Rusia: and national tensions on the rise created Memoriile maiorului Vionnet, 1812 the first massive organization of Slovene Translated from English by Gabriel Stoian, women in Carinthia. foreword by Filip-Lucian Iorga, introduction With this book the editors wanted and notes by Jonathan North to create a starting point for a discus- Bucharest: Corint, 2015 sion of gender issues in the First World War. Most of the studies employ a wide range of sources: diaries, letters, newspa- he two centuries separating us pers, military or administrative records, T from the have not di- church records, while some draw on just minished in any way the power of these one category of sources, like the more than events to generate debates involving his- 2,000 letters written by the members of torians as well as specialists from other the Braun family. Using a large but not fields. Once the interpretations grounded very diverse sample, the study “Imagining in dogmatic Marxism lost their ideologi- and Communicating Violence: The Corre- cal dominance, Romanian writing became spondence of a Berlin Family, 1914–1918” once again connected to the flow of Eu- reaches some conclusions also applicable ropean ideas which, in their turn, accom- to most educated persons in Germany. modate a wide range of interpretations, The centenary of the First World War from the unfettered enthusiasm with the was a good occasion for a historical re-dis- revolution, cultivated by the supporters cussion and re-writing of different topics of the liberal ideology and taken up by its within conferences, books, or projects. The Marxist successors, to the historiographi- editors introduced a topic which has been cal approaches that tend to reconsider the less discussed, but was nevertheless em- conservative reactions from the time of the braced and developed by others. As men-­ French revolutionary turmoil or from the tioned earlier, in this book there are no period immediately following it. The fas- studies related to Eastern Europe, but the cination with the events of 1848 and with echoes of this topic have also reached this the manner in which they stimulated the part of Europe. An example is the recent modernization and political development book by Alin Ciupalã, Bãtãlia lor: Femeile of the Romanian lands has shaped a gener- din România în Primul Rãzboi Mondial ally positive approach to the events of the (Iaºi: Polirom, 2017), where he discusses French Revolution and of the Napoleonic the role of women in the Romanian war period, as indicated even by a mere statisti- effort, during the First World War. cal analysis applied to the translations from q the specialist literature. The sympathy for Angela Cristina Lumezeanu the revolution and its protagonists has also been influenced by subjective factors, such as the fascination with personalities and their role in history, the recent tradition that tends to overrate the Jacobin dimen- sion of the revolution, seen at a time as a forerunner of the communist discourse on Book Reviews • 157 power, or the role played by France under threat against the political independence Napoleon III in the political unification of of the Principalities. The ideological over- the Romanian Principalities. The admira- tones of these topics place them at the in- tion for the heroes of the revolution and tersection of history, ideology, and state in- for the military brilliance of the emperor terests, casting doubts on the objectivity of have remained prevalent in Romanian the authors interested in piecing together historiography, even amid the tentative the past in an unbiased manner. One of revival of some reflections on monarchy the strategies available to the authors in- and the rediscovery of Junimea’s theses, terested precisely in this kind of objectiv- likely to question the tremendous histori- ity is the recourse to the primary sources cal importance previously granted to these left by the participants in those political structural mutations marked by violence and military events, whose subjectivity as and ideological exclusivism. people owing allegiance to one side or the A similarly antithetical vision also other is superseded by the presumption of stems from the relations between Russia authenticity that comes with the testimony and Europe and from the first crisis they of a genuine eyewitness. experienced in the modern era, during the Louis Joseph Vionnet (1769–1834), French invasion of 1812. The challenges viscount of Maringoné, participated in generated by this asymmetrical proxim- Napoleon’s campaign in Russia and even- ity, and particularly the fact that this event tually reached the rank of lieutenant-gen- coincided with a tragedy for Romania, eral. His memoirs were published posthu- namely, the loss of the Moldavian territory mously in 1899 under the title Campagnes between the Prut and Dniester rivers, led de Russie et de Saxe (1812–1813). The Romanian authors to support the French present Romanian edition is translated cause, even at a time when the European from the English version, With Napoleon’s liberal intellectual elites (whose outlook Guard in Russia: The Memoirs of Major on contemporary events is best described Vionnet, 1812, translated and edited by by Madame de Staël) equated the patri- Jonathan North (Barnsley, South York- otic resistance of the Russians with the shire, England: Pen & Sword Military, struggle for a freedom threatened by the 2012). The originality of the text coms authoritarian turn of a movement born of from the nearly complete absence of any the ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity. ideological or propaganda elements, The same generation altered its outlook which were otherwise beginning to make on the old Empire of the North, admired their presence felt during the early mod- by the thinkers of the Enlightenment and ern era. The testimony is that of a soldier detested by the European enlightened who makes no secret of his moderate mon- despots, ceasing to defend freedom and archism and of his Catholic allegiance, a choosing instead to support the reaction- source of ethical guidance amid a conflict ary approaches of the Holy Alliance. The that was beginning to favor a denial of the same happened with the Romanians’ col- human condition and where the instinct lective perception of the Russians, as the for self-preservation prevailed over any protection inspired by a shared religious axiological choices. The moral profile of denomination and seen as an alternative the author is completed by a deliberately to Ottoman domination became a major objective narrative discourse that shows 158 • Transylvanian Review • Vol. XXVII, No. 4 (Winter 2018) no hostility towards an enemy whose or- attacking the supply convoys and the en- ganizational and behavioral merits are rec- campments of the French army. These pre- ognized in certain moments of the cam- liminary notes indicate that the major was paign. Furthermore, the liberties he takes paying attention to the specific features in assessing the behavior of some superior of local life, to the attitude of the local officers and even of the emperor himself population in regard to the French forces are less manifest in the writings of other and to the social origin of the opposing military memoirists. forces, chiefly associated with destitute or The preface written by historian Filip- criminal environments. The author openly Lucian Iorga briefly surveys the historio- blames some French commanders for the graphical debates concerning Napoleon’s atrocities perpetrated against the partisans career and makes an interesting parallel and the civilian population, also indicat- between the career of the soldier-emperor ing that the redeployment of the regiment and that of the author of the memoirs, from the Spanish theater of operations to both people of the modern era and mem- the Russian campaign was welcomed by bers of the meritocracy. Jonathan North’s the soldiers eager for military actions likely introduction provides a brief history of to bring them great material and moral an elite corps of the French revolution- benefits. His account of the battles fought ary army, the French Guard, set up in the at Smolensk and Borodino differs from the early years of the Consulate and renamed other contemporary testimonies, but the Imperial Guard once the First Empire was historical value of his notes stems from the proclaimed on 2 December 1804. The observant eye of the author who provides a survey of the units that made up this elite minute description of the architectural fea- corps over a decade of its existence is ac- tures of , accompanied by chrono- companied by digressions regarding the logical considerations, indicative of a place social background of its soldiers and offi- with a lively cultural and spiritual activity. cers, their political views, or the economic His opinions regarding one of the most challenges faced by soldiers during cam- controversial moments in modern history, paigns. The history of the guard regiments the burning of Moscow, follow the official follows the chronology of military actions, French line, in the sense that it was done from the glorious battles of 1805–1806 to in keeping with the detailed plan set in the exhausting Spanish guerilla war. The motion by Governor Fyodor Rostopchin authenticity of these testimonies is given and carried out with the help of inmates by the recourse to fragments of the cor- released during the evacuation of the capi- respondence between some soldiers from tal city. The account reaches a deeper level, Major Vionnet’s regiment and their fami- as the author considers the shift from the lies, presenting to the readers the everyday conflicts occurred during the Old Regime, aspects of military life and the difficulties when the lives of civilians and neutral faced by those who had to cope with indif- parties were spared, to the total war that ferent superiors and rapacious locals. sought the annihilation of the enemy at The notes of Major Vionnet focus any cost. The validity of these conclusions mainly on Spain, where his regiment was is confirmed by the account of the retreat trying to wipe out the partisans who were of the guard regiments, which challenged Book Reviews • 159 even the human condition of the soldiers ternal dissolution and with the emperor’s faced with extermination by starvation and failure to understand the new reality that cold, an extreme situation marked by acts emerged in the aftermath of his disastrous of cannibalism and mass suicide. The nar- campaign in Russia. rative becomes increasingly personal, and This rather unique digression into the the battles of Smolensk and Berezina are history of an event well-known to the in- mentioned only in connection to the at- terested public provides the opportunity tempts made by a physically exhausted au- for a reflection on the responsibility of thor to find the remnants of his regiment. politicians towards those whom they gov- His return to activity occurs when the so- ern and on the incalculable effects of mili- called Young Guard is set up and a new tary conflicts, while bringing us into direct campaign begins in 1813, fighting with contact with a profound dimension of the varying degrees of success the anti-French past, a genuine life experience outlined by coalition and marked by a deterioration of the reflections, the emotions, and the con- the previous camaraderie between soldiers clusions expressed by an eyewitness. and officers. Thus, the end of the empire q comes not only as a consequence of mili- Florian Dumitru Soporan tary defeats, but largely has to do with in- contributors

Mircea-Gheorghe Abrudan, Ph.D. 29 Nicolae Jiga St., Oradea 410028, Romania Researcher at George Bariþiu Institute of History, e-mail: [email protected] Romanian Academy 12–14 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania Gabriel Moisa, Ph.D. e-mail: [email protected] Professor at the University of Oradea 1 Universitãþii St., Oradea 410087, Romania Ioan Bolovan, Ph.D. e-mail: [email protected] Corresponding member of the Romanian Academy, director of George Bariþiu Institute of History, vice- Iuliu-Marius Morariu, Ph.D. candidate rector of Babeº-Bolyai University Faculty of Orthodox Theology, Babeş-Bolyai University 12–14 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania Episcop N. Ivan St., Cluj-Napoca 400000, Romania e-mail: [email protected] e-mail: [email protected]

Sorina Paula Bolovan, Ph.D. Marius Nenciulescu, Litt.D. Associate professor at Babeº-Bolyai University Associate lecturer at the Technical University 7 Sindicatelor St., Cluj-Napoca 400029, Romania 103–105 Muncii Blvd., Cluj-Napoca 400641, e-mail: [email protected] Romania e-mail: [email protected] Sorina Botiª, Ph.D. Associate professor at the Transylvania University Adrian Niþã, Ph.D. 29 Eroilor Blvd., Braºov 50036, Romania Lecturer at Babeş-Bolyai University e-mail: [email protected] Grãdina Csíky St., Gheorgheni 535500, Romania e-mail: [email protected] Raluca Botoª, Ph.D. candidate Doctoral School, Babeº-Bolyai University Marta Petreu, Ph.D. 1 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania Professor at Babeº-Bolyai University e-mail: [email protected] 1 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania e-mail: [email protected] Cristian Oliviu Gaidoª, Ph.D. candidate Museologist at the Lugoj History, Etnography and Florian Dumitru Soporan, Ph.D. Fine Arts Museum Senior researcher at the Center for Transylvanian 2 Nicolae Bãlcescu St., Lugoj 305500, Romania Studies of the Romanian Academy e-mail: [email protected] 12–14 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania e-mail: [email protected] Maria Ghitta, Ph.D. candidate Senior researcher at the Center for Transylvanian Lucian-Vasile Szabo, Ph.D. Studies of the Romanian Academy Senior lecturer at the West University 12–14 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania 4 Vasile Pârvan Blvd., Timiºoara 300223, Romania e-mail: [email protected] e-mail: [email protected]

Angela Cristina Lumezeanu, Ph.D. candidate George-Bogdan Tofan, Ph.D. Doctoral School, Babeº-Bolyai University Lecturer at Vasile Goldiş Western University 1 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania of Arad, Baia Mare Branch e-mail: [email protected] 5 Culturii St., Baia Mare 430316, Romania e-mail: [email protected] Daniela Mârza, Ph.D. Senior researcher at the Center for Transylvanian Constantin Ungureanu, Ph.D. Studies of the Romanian Academy Senior researcher at the Institute of History, Academy 12–14 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romania of Sciences of e-mail: [email protected] 82 31 August 1989 St., Chiºinãu MD-2012, Republic of Moldova Corina Moisa, Ph.D. e-mail: [email protected] Lecturer at the University of Oradea