Silviu Lupaşcu

THE RITUAL CENSORSHIP.

THE ANCIENT INDIAN SACRIFICIAL ESTABLISHMENT –

THE EVIDENCE PROVIDED BY SRAUTAKOSA

Abstract: The study focuses on the rethorics embodied in the Ancient Indian sacrifice ritual as depicted in Srautakosa, the ritual sum of the sacrificial norms from the Kalpasutras belonging to various Vedic schools.

Keywords: Antiquity; India; sacrificial ritual; Srautakosa

              The Indian tripartite theology, formulated according to the treaty discovered at Bogazkoy (concluded between Mativaza, leader of the Hourrite Empire – situated in the bend of the upper Euphrates, with its capital city at Mitani -, and a Hittite king, his neighbour) and to the Vedic hymns, is implied by the threefold structure Mitra-Varuna / Ind(a)ra / Nasatya or Asvin. The complementarity and solidarity uniting the two “celestial consuls” (the Ouranian deity, concerned with the immensity of the cosmic ensemble, and the so-called “personified Contract”. interested in everything pertaining to the human beings) is completed by the warrior god and by the twin deities of peace, welfare, fertility and liturgical fulfillment. It is worth nothing, for the purpose of our research, that the Hindu ritual canon assigns the perfect offerings to Mitra, while the blemished ones appertain to Varuna. If the mythological architecture of the social hierarchy (brahmanas -ksatriyas -vaisyas or priests-warriors-common people) follows the triune sequence of the godhead, it must be noted that the ritual dialogue engaged between the human society and the divine realm has, as is the case with all the other Indo-European nations, a sacrificial nature (cf. Georges Dumezil, L’ideologie tripartie des Indo-Europeens, p. 8, 34-39, 62-64; also Les dieux souverains des Indo-Europeens, p. 59).

              The sacrificial injunctions from the Brahmanas, as re-elaborated in the Srauta-sutras, generated in the corpus of the sacred scriptures the codification of the Hindu animal-sacrifice, called  n i r u d h a p a s u b a n d h a (where pasu-bandha can be translated as “animal-binding”) in Sanskrit. In this appendix we will present and comment some of the informations contained in the Srautakosa (Encyclopedia of Vedic Sacrificial Ritual, I, P. II, p. 770-876), priestly and the ritual sum of the sacrificial norms from the Kalpasutras belonging to the various Vedic schools. (According to Katyayana-Srautasutra, Haviryajnavidha -animal-sacrifice consisting in the acomplishment of the rites “from the commencement of the vow up to the stepping of the Visnu-steps” -must be distinguished from Savavidha -animal-sacrifice performed as “ancillary to the Soma-sacrifice”).

              To begin with, the scripture carefully enumerates the sacrificial ustensils which, one by one, will be called to ceremonial life during the ritual event, a sort of indispensable “stage requisites” which allow the happening of the sacred slaughter: sticks from the putudru tree (pinus deodara), bdellium,  sugandhitejana, a bunch of white wool which has grown between the two horns of a ram, two cords -one with two strands and the other with three strands, two forks (vapasrapani) -one two- pronged and the other one-pronged, heart-pike (hrdayasula), sticks from the karsmarya tree (gmalina arborea), a staff for the maitravaruna from the udumbara tree, sacrificial grass and faggot, a faggot for carrying forth the fire, twig of the plaksa tree (ficus infectoria),  idasuna or wooden plank, two darbha –blades, barley, flour, curds and gold (cf. Srautakosa, I, P. II, p. 774).

              The nirudhapasubandha is integrated in the cosmological whole, being an essential act in the life of the universe and a central element in the sacrificer’s (or yajnamana, from yajna, “sacrifice”) personal “history of redemption” (major feature and religious significance of yajna-anta or “sacrifice-end”), fact manifest in canonical statements such as: “After having performed the New-moon sacrifice or under some suitable constellation one should perform the animal-sacrifice.” (cf. Baudhayana, 20.25); “One should perform the animal-sacrifice for Indra-Agni once every six months or at the commencement of every course of the sun or once every year.” (cf. Satyasadha, 4.1); “One should perform the animal-sacrifice on the full-moon day or on the new-moon day or under any auspicious constellation in the bright part of the month.” (cf. Vaikhanasa, 10.1-5); “One should perform the animal-sacrifice in the rainy season every year on the new-moon day or on the full-moon day or on the day of the commencement either of the southern course or of the northern course of the sun.” (cf. Katyayana, 6.1.1.); “The time for the animal-sacrifice to be performed in the northern course of the sun does not pass over until the time for the performance of the animal-sacrifice in the southern course of the sun. The time for the animal-sacrifice to be performed in the southern course of the sun does not pass over until the time of the performed of the animal-sacrifice in the northern course of the sun. Thus is the animal-sacrifice concluded.” (cf. Baudhayana, 28.12); “The animal which is offered in a sacrifice endows a sacrificier with long life and surrenders itself for him.” (cf. Apastamba, 7.28.8); “It is said in the scripture that by performing the animal-sacrifice one buys himself off from the death, and one has all his desires fulfilled.” (cf. Vaikhanasa, 10.1-5); “One who performs the animal-sacrifice wins all the worlds.” (cf. Apastamba, 7.1.1).

              The scripture (Vaikhanasa, 10.1-5) also prescribes that six priests should officiate in the animal-sacrifice: two brahmans –the brahman and the agnidhra; two hotrs -the hotr and the maitravaruna; two adhvaryus -the adhvaryu and the  pratiprasthatr.

              As in Ancient Greece, the ritual slaughter, the sacramental culmination expressed in the immolation itself, is preceded by a cultic “construction” of the sacrifice and followed by its “deconstruction”. When running over the stages of the nirudhapasubandha, the analyst has the impression of visualising the “assembling” and the “disassembling” of a material-spiritual-seen-unseen “device” which is minutely prepared for the mysterious purpose of the release of a religious “shot” and afterwards gradually dismantled: the cutting out of the sacrificial post and the preparation of the uttaravedi, the measurement of the altar (with its “navel”), the carrying forth of the fire and the raisingup of the sacrificial post, the formal dedication of the animal, the churning out of the fire and the carrying round of the fire, the immolation (sacrificial act), the offering of the omentum, the offering of the pasupurodasa and the animal’s organs, the anuyajas and the expiation-rites (cf. Srautakosa, I, P. II, p. 770-876).

              All the actions accomplished by the priests during the sacrificial time are determined by the mantras or sacred formulas. After the animal had been bathed, the adhvaryu makes it stand in front of the sacrificial post, facing towards the west. Keeping two darbha -blades in his hand, he utters the words for the dedication of the animal (the ritual touch of the blade represents the formal offering of the animal to the divinity).

Afterwards, the adhvaryu must address to the hotr the three injunctions concerning the sacrificial fire: “Do you recite the verses for the fire being churned out.” ; ” Do you recite the fire which has been generated.” ; “Do you recite the verses for the fire being deposited into the ahavaniya fireplace.”

              The animal (it must be one out of twins, belonging to a flock, and having mother, father, brother and friend; it must not be impotent, unsteady or deaf –Satyasadha 4.3) is caught with the cord, fastened to the sacrificial post and sprinkled with water on all the parts of he body (“Verily on all sides should one render it sacred.”) before the adhvaryu begins to anoint it with the clarified butter (ghnita). Concerning the anointment, Baudhayana (20.27-28) states that the priest should not dissect the animal with that edge of the knife by means of which he has applied the clarified butter, nor should he cut out portions from the cooked animal by means of that edge of the knife. The agnidhra must go round three times by the right of the animal with a fire-brand taken from the ahavaniya fire, after the adhvaryu addressed the maitravaruna with the command “Do you recite the verses for the fire being carried round.” The ritual dedication of the animal to the divinity consists in its touching by the priest with a  darbha -blade, gesture accompanied by the formulas upavir asi and upa devan (cf. Katyayana, 6.3.17-5.4). In the priestly ritual dialogue, the sacrificial knife is introduced by the injunctions “Do you bring hear the knife.” and “Let this edge be known to you.”

              For the climax of the sacrificial drama the animal is carried in the sounds of the mantras (nana prano yajamanasya pasuna … and revatir yajnapatim …) and placed upon a

darbha -blade, in the samitra -chamber, to the east or to the north of the sacrificial spot, with its head towards the west and the legs towards the north. The ritual killing must occur in silence (there is no equivalent of the Greek Ololyge) and the animal, when immolated, should be announced. Usually the death by strangulation is followed by the dismemberment of the body. As the moment of the slaughter is imminent, the other priests direct the samitr with the words: “Do you immolate the animal in such a way that it does not make any sound.” and they withdraw in proccesion by the same route which they followed previously in the opposite direction. When the animal is dead, the cord is released and thrown away (cf. Baudhayana, 4.6-7, 20.28-29; Satyasadha, 4.3-4). Katyayana (6.5.5-6.27) prescrobes that the priest should close the animal’s mouth tightly and obstruct its breathing, while it is lying upon the darbha -blade, without allowing any sound to issue from it. The adhvaryu addresses the samitr with the words: “Do you immolate the animal; it has gone to the gods.” After an oblation is offered with the formula svaha devebhyah, the samitr announces: “The animal is immolated” and the adhvaryu answers: “Let it lie for a moment.” (except for the savavidha). The brahman should recite, with reference to the animal being immolated, the half-verse, ye no dvisanty … (cf. Vaitana, 10.14-16.19).

              The appeasing of the sacrificial crisis is connected with the entrance on the ritual stage of the sacrificer’s wife. While she is holding a vessel filled with water, the pratiprasthatr introduces her in the cultic area (” O pratiprasthatr, bring forth the sacrificer’s wife.”). With the formula namas ta atana, she looks up at the sun. Directed by the mantras, she moves towards the north and towards the east. When she has reached the samitra -chamber, the adhvaryu commands her to look into the water, at her face reflected in the water, with the formula apo devih suddhayuvah. She must make the various limbs of the animal swell in the following order: the mouth, the nose, the eye, the ear, the navel and the anus, before washing the four legs of the animal joined together. The remaining water must be poured towards the south along the back of the animal (cf. Baudhayana, 20.28-29). The invocation of the elements and the purification with water of the animal’s organs where the four senses are located can be interpreted as a ritual help given to the animal’s soul in order to reach “the other” life, in the divine realm. After the offering of the omentum, all the priests, the sacrificer and his wife should step across and sprinkle themselves with the words: “Come, o sacrificer.”, before all of them may touch water again and take their respective seats (cf. Baudhayana, 24.36). The hotr and the maitravaruna should turn about by the right, while the brahman and the sacrificer should turn about by the left (cf. Asvalayana, 1.4.4-3.7.13). The offering of the omentum is followed by the offering of the pasupurodasa and of the animal’s organs.

              We can read in Baudhayana Srautasutra (24.11): “Now will be mentioned the sacrifices to be performed by kings. They are: rajasuya (consecration of a king), asvamedha (horse-sacrifice for territorial expansion), purusamedha (sacrifice of purusa or “primordial man”), sarvamedha, somasava, prthisava, mrtyusava, kanandhayajna and sunaskarnayajna.” Rad-yajna must be remembered in the same context, as a sacrifice performed in order to restore a deposed king to his throne. It is also stated (28.38) that the animal-offerings in the asvamedha should be characterized by mantras recited in low tone (cf. Srautakosa, I, P. II, p.877-952). The renewal of the political power implies, we may presume, not only the sacrificial gain of everlasting power drawn out from the divine sources, but also the stillness of the sacred formulas. The royal sacrifices, therefore, had a manifest political purpose: to gain dominion, to confirm the monarchical authority (cf. Benjamin Walker, The Hindu World, II, p.316-321).

              Together with the sacrifice of Yajna (the deer-headed son of Ruchi and husband of Daksina, goddess of the rewards given to the sacrificial priests, Yajna was slain by the monster Virabhadra and afterwards raised to the heavens by Brahma, and transformed into the constellation Mrigasiras or “deer-head”) and with the sacrifice performed by Vaivasvata after the Flood, purusamedha represents a major paradigm of the Hindu ritual. In Samkhya philosophy, purusa is the first principle, the eternal, uncaused and causeless Cosmic Spirit, counterpart of prakriti (cosmic, primordial substance, unevolved matter), theological edifice which reelaborates the Vedic myth (Rig-Veda) according to which from the limbs of the “sacrificed man” emerge all the constituent parts of the universe (cf. B. Walker, II, p. 316; also R.L.Turner, A Comparative Dictionary of the Indo-Aryan Languages, p. 601, where yajniya is translated as “pertaining to the sacrifice” or “suitable for sacrifice”).

              The asvamedha, as sacrificial foundation of the royal power, unites and transfigures in the ritual the essential features of warfare, manliness and fertility. The visible ceremonial power displayed by the king is identified with the political power as a whole, with the welfare of the entire people as expression of a wise, strong and well-omened art of governing.

              The hymns contained in Rig-Veda (I, 162, 163) seem to describe the two divine hypostasis of the eartly royal power: the sacrificial horse lying on the altar (which is reffered to by the officiant priests with the formula “In heaven you envelop yourselves, for that indeed is heaven where they immolate the victim.”, answered by the mahishi or Queen Consort with the words: “May the vigurous male, the layer of seed, lay seed!”) and the great bird (ritual metamorphosis of the asva) who, according to Satapatha Brahmana (V, p. 315), takes the king-sacrificer to heaven (cf. Margaret and James Stutley, Harper’s Dictionary of Hinduism, p. 24-27). It is interesting to note in this respect that, the horse not being indigenous to India, probably a bull constituted initially the focus of the cult, fact which brings the asvamedha close to the Greek bouphonia as a fundamental of the archaic Indo-European sacrificial worship.                                                                                                             

               Asvamedha can be understood as a ritual of a military undertaking, with its preliminaries, with (sometimes) the real engagement in the fighting and with the celebration of the victory. From this point of view it presents features of the mannerbunde type, being a sort of feasting of the king’s vigour by the elite of the warriors society. The asva (a white young male) was released in a north-easterly direction (the way towards the gods), the place where the unconquered territory is situated. The wanderings of the horse were considered to define the new frontier of the aggrandized royal feoff. The monarchical authority could thus have been imposed on a forlorn section of the “unknown” land or against the authority of a neighbour king, “clash” between “powers” which could not have occurred without real encounters between the armies of the two kingdoms. The ritual aggressiveness was turned into battle. The eventual defeat of the asva –king had the choice between affirming the preeminence of his own sovereignty on the field or submitting to the “vigour” of the invading king. If everything went well for the asva –monarch, he returned in triumph before the ritual year expired, together with the sacrificial horse and with his followers. According to Taittiriya Brahmana (III, 8.9, 4), a weakling who attempted to perform undeservedly the asvamedha, was doomed to annihilation. The escort was composed of a hundred princes (“born in wedlock”), a hundred sons of chiefs and heralds, and a hundred sons of attendents and charioteers, “all armed according to their rank”. Only those members of the royal entourage who were able to endure all the hardships implied by the enlargement of the king’s estate were allowed to share in the divine –political power procured by the asvamedha. The hieros gamos between the mahishi and the immolated horse represented the conclusion of the king’s consecration, the public proof of his intact and powerful virtues, able to safeguard the well-being of his country and subjects. The religious and political ideals connected with the sacrifice of the horse merged into a sort of theological-sacrificial utopia, implying that the accomplishment of one hundred asvamedhas would enable a mortal king to gain supreme power over Indra, the gods and the entire universe (cf. B.Walter, I, p. 458-459; M.&J.Stutley, p. 24-27).

               The religious-political power embodied in the leaders (kings, brahmanas and ksatryas) was regarded as a divine gift, a sort of sacred everlasting substance (earthly hypostasis of the divine power) which had to be ritually guided back to gods in the most cautious way after the decease of the prominent individual who hosted it during his life time. As a consequence, the funeral rite accomplished in these circumstances was assimilated with a sacrifice (cremation) of the dead body to Agni and to the major figures of the Hindu pantheon, ceremony integrated in the Brahmamedha and conducted by the so-called caturhotr –formulas.

               Baudhayana Pitrmedha (2.2) recalls the legend about the sleep of Prajapati, as he fell exhausted after the accomplishment of creation. In order to awake him, the gods and the brahmanas collected the essence (the lustre) of the beings, which is lodged in the caturhotr –formulas, also called “the most sacred utterances” or param brahma. The scripture warns against the use of the formulas in the funeral rites performed commonly or in the funeral rites for a deceased “who was not a perceptor or one well-versed in the Veda or a teacher”. The recovery of the essential power of life (embodied in the “pilars” of the earthly establishment) and its return into the divine realm must be regarded as the main feature of the Brahmamedha.

                The bhartr –hymn commended the ritual trajectory of the dead body, before he was brought to the sacrificial post, where the wife of the deceased had to lie near it (as in the hieros gamos of the asvamedha) with the patni –formulas. After pieces of gold are placed upon the various limbs of the deceased (for example, the mouth) with the hrdaya –formulas, the sacrificial ustensils must be piled up upon the dead body with the sambhara –formulas. Finally, the dead body is cremated with the jyotismati –formulas.

                 Vaikhanasa (7.1, 2) expresses with a sort of ecstatic lucidity the ineluctable code of the funeral sacrifice: “There are two sacraments –one pertaining to birth and the other to death. As the result of the first, one wins this world; and as a result of the second, he wins the other world. The cremation of the dead body is said to constitute the sacrement pertaining to death. The offering of a faultless body is very dear to Agni. As the result of this offering, the deceased person goes to the world of gods.” (cf. Srautakosa, I, P. II, p. 1115-1116, p. 1128).

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Georges Dumézil, Les dieux souverains des Indo-Européens, Gallimard, Paris, 1986

Georges Dumézil, L’idéologie tripartie des Indo-Européens, Colléction Latomus, vol. XXXI, Latomus – Revue d’études latines, Bruxelles, 1958

Srautakosa – Encyclopaedia of Vedic Sacrificial Ritual, 4 vol., Vaidika samsodhana mandala, Poona, 1958-1973

Margaret Stutley, James Stutley, Harper’s Dictionary of Hinduism, Harper & Row, New York, Hagerstown, San Francisco & London, 1977

R. L. Turner, A Comparative Dictionary of the Indo-Aryan Languages, Oxford University Press, London & New York, 1966

Benjamin Walker, The Hindu World, 2 vol., Frederick A. Praeger Publishers, New York & Washington D. C., 1968         

Andreea Iacob

Mijloacele de manipulare în masa si cenzura gîndirii

Abstract: The article compares different types of censorship (media-based, economic, legislative, moral) in totalitarian societies and also in democratic ones, reaching conclusions about how does censorship influence or abmit thought.

Keywords: Romania; communism; censorship; totalitarian societies; theory of discourse

The basic goal of the communist system was to transform people in an army of believers without questioning. For such a plan, individuals had to be persuaded, their minds emptied and then filled with the images offered by the only available system, the communist one. The best manipulating device was the mass media, the press, the community’s most reliable institution. Offering as less information as possible, cut out of it’s context, the few media institutions, all working for the Government, succeeded in turning their “victims” in a mass of obedience. Today media censorship is less official, but maybe even more powerful and dangerous: it now works mostly on people who’s background is the lack of trust and confusion. Modern censorship, especially economical and legislative, comes again as a wall between the press and its “consumer”.

În anul 1984, DEX definea cenzura ca fiind un „control prealabil care asigura pastrarea secretului de stat; controlul prealabil exercitat asupra continutului publicatiilor, emisiunilor de radioteleviziune etc.; organ care exercita acest control.” La peste un deceniu, cuprinzator de diverse schimbari profunde, DEX-ul din 1996 da aceleiasi cenzuri urmatoarea definitie: „Control prealabil exercitat de anumite organe specializate ale unui stat asupra publicatiilor, spectacolelor etc. si, în anumite conditii, asupra corespondentei si convorbirilor telefonice; organ care exercita acest control.” Similitudinea abordarii este debordanta, dar ironia cea mai pura sta în faptul ca aceasta limitare definitionala a timpurilor noastre (neintentionînd aici a afirma ca un dictionar explicativ ar trebui sa prezinte si o istorie a termenilor), fara macar schitarea unor puncte de plecare în ratiunea existentei cenzurii si, mai ales, a efectelor acesteia, este o decupare a realitatii care calca ea însasi pe urmele cenzurii.

Existenta acestui fenomen, de-a lungul istoriei lui, dar cu predilectie în totalitarism, nu poate fi luata în discutie fara context. În ceea ce priveste Sistemul comunist, cenzura a functionat, într-adevar, ca un control, dar esenta fenomenului o constituie urmarile pe care le-a avut, la nivelul mentalitatilor. A început cu necesitatea partidului ca noul Sistem sa fie acceptat pe scara nationala si pe termen nelimitat: la un asemenea nivel intruziunea nu se putea desfasura prin forta, la nivel fizic, ci prin convingere, prin persuasiune, la nivel mental. Iar unul dintre mijloacele cu roluri bine cotate în aceasta manipulare era presa, operînd în special decuparea realitatii, si asta printr-un numar limitat de institutii de aceasta natura, pentru a se evita riscul scaparii de materiale necenzurate. Lipsa de acces a cetatenilor la informatii, cel putin la cele care vizau aspectele de ordin politico-economic ale României, începînd din anul 1945, era primul pas spre înregimentarea indivizilor-pioni, începînd cu înregimentarea gîndirii lor. Dupa aceasta golire a creierelor, echivalînd implicit cu lipsirea de constiinta, singurul Sistem social pe care pionii proaspat curatati îl aveau la dispozitie, cel comunist, devenea cel mai bun posibil, în lipsa oricarui alt sistem concurential, si, respectiv, singurul care putea umple acele creiere.

În ceea ce priveste prezentul, într-o analiza critica pe care a facut-o societatii de consum, francezul Bernard Noël propune o redefinire a acestui concept, folosind termenii Sensure – ca cenzura a sensului, si Censure – ca cenzura a textului, observînd ca, într-o lume a spectacolului mediatic, din care presa face negresit parte, cenzura a devenit mult mai subtila, a devenit Sensure. Noua cenzura priveaza de sens atît excesul imaginar, cît mai ales valorile rationale, într-o dezolanta sinonimie cu scopurile Sistemului totalitar: amorteste spiritul critic, «ocupîndu-l» cu imagini ale spectacolului.[i] Acesta este rezultatul, iar manifestarea cenzurii în presa zilelor noastre, fara a fi un fenomen controlat de o institutie anume, tine cel putin de doua aspecte: fie o limitare proprie în ceea ce priveste responsabilitatea etica (un fel de autocenzura datorata inculturii profesionale), fie forme pragmatice, de natura legislativa sau economica.

Stirile orei de comunism

Scenariul comunist, în care indivizii-pioni urmau sa joace roboticul rol al vietii lor, si care presupunea curatirea si apoi umplerea creierelor cu informatiile nou venite la putere, a fost construit dupa o structura în mare parte viabila si astazi, avînd dimensiuni în trepte, ce au evoluat în principiu de la frica la adeziune (mai mult sau mai putin schizoida).

Astfel, noaptea comunista s-a lasat pentru început asupra istoriei, care fusese rescrisa pentru ca Nicolae Ceausescu, liderul absolut, sa fie indubitabil o personalitate cu baze pure, puternice si viitor aurit; fapt care se interfera cu un amplu proiect, cultul personalitatii conducatorului, vizînd transformarea acestuia în dumnezeul Sistemului ateu.

De informatiile care priveau prezentul acelor ani se ocupa presa. Cenzurarea acestora presupunea în principal decuparea realitatii, ceea ce echivala cu  prezentarea a cît mai putine informatii de interes public si cu folosirea unor formulari laconice, fara mentionarea de date precise. În privinta contextului international, la fel erau tratate informatiile despre „tarile fratesti socialiste”; în schimb, tarile occidentale aveau parte de un alt regim, cu scopul exclusiv de a sublinia unica perfectiune a Sistemului comunist: îndeobste, materialele de presa aveau forma unor paralele trase între realizarile socialismului si aspectele strict  negative ale capitalismului. Cuvînt care, în treacat fie spus, nu este rostit foarte des în mediile românesti actuale, preferîndu-se mai degraba formula economie de piata. Tabu-urile Sistemului, conspirationiste, erau ocrotite cu sfintenie, asta pîna în momentul proclamarii lor ca secrete de stat, si deci a oficializarii situatiei lor în raport cu presa, subiect la care voi reveni atunci cînd voi vorbi despre legislatia cenzurii. Lipsa de esenta a informatiilor publicate era îmbracata stilistic într-un limbaj apropiat efectului scontat, de limitare a gîndirii si a atitudinii critice: unul cliseistic, fara nuantari, redus la un vocabular limitat, repetitiv, care insista pe formule ca forta politica conducatoare, ideologia burghezo-mosiereasca, încununare a luptei poporului, forte sanatoase etc.

Un cîine de paza castrat

Senzatia de dolce far niente, ca atitudine pe care o emanau produsele finite publicate în ziare si reviste, induceau o relaxare cenusie, pe care se miza implicit, ca început al imbecilizarii prin limitare, urmînd ca, dupa cîteva decenii de experienta a abordarilor generale, presa sa devina un instrument si mai aplicat, uneori cu roluri clar trasate. De pilda, în cazul revistei Femeia, înfiintate în 1947, aceasta publicatie devenise în anii ’80, odata cu „sporirea numarului femeilor în conducerea organelor si organizatiilor de partid, de masa si obstesti, ca directori de întreprinderi (…), în învatamînt, arta, cultura, sanatate”[ii], un organ îndreptat cu predilectie spre înregimentarea femeilor casnice în activitati muncitoresti. Colectia revistei poate fi acum vazuta ca un jurnal a re-reeducarii femeilor, prin canalizarea precisa a dragostei de patrie si eventual a fanatismului masificarii lor. Daca pîna atunci femeile fusesera doar gospodinele, mamele viitorului patriei, acum ele nu mai puteau ramîne doar atît. Iar amenintarea care plana, respectiv greseala Sistemului, era evidenta: cum propaganda cea mai de impact se facea în fabrici si uzine, unde pionii-barbatii erau curatati de murdaria gîndirii capitaliste („dusmanoase”), se întorceau mai apoi la mintea (chiar si doar putin) mai limpede a sotiilor, femeile casnice ce fusesera protejate într-o oarecare masura de tentaculele partidului. Ca un amanunt, fatada demersului o reprezenta lupta pentru egalitatea femeii în fata barbatului-sot, drept care revista ar fi actionat, chipurile, ca un impuls pentru trezirea simturilor.

            Presa, ca element-emblema al unui stat de drept, nu fusese deci desfiintata, cum de altminteri nici democratia nu fusese „abrogata”. Rolul ei a fost însa stîlcit, devenind un fel de monstru cîrpit, functionabil numai  în stricta subordine a creierului unic, al carui organ era: partidul. Daca lavajul national trebuia sa curete indivizii de spiritul civic, de buna seama ca si cîinele lor de paza trebuia fie castrat, fie ucis. S-a ales prima varianta, mult mai viabila, mai putin riscanta (toate statele evoluate au presa), dar si cea mai perversa, transformînd o institutie civica, prin natura ei, într-un instrument care sa functioneze pe invers, întru pervertirea constiintei. Iar lipsa accesului la informatii clare despre mersul lucrurilor, sustinuta de lipsa contextului real al situatiei internationale, nu putea crea decît o stare de confuzie, devenita politica de stat.

Clivaje intra- si inter-umane

Aceasta confuzie, coroborata în primii ani ai comunismului cu lipsa de încredere, a dus la aparitia limbajului dublu, a unui fenomen cu recurente puternice în privinta relatiei prezente dintre presa si indivizii care formeaza societatea civila. Rostirea adevarului numai acasa, respectiv neadeziunea la programele partidului, iar în celelalte medii, exprimarea acceptarii si chiar îmbratisarea noului Sistem, era o raportare schizoida a individului, care a dus în cele din urma la o ruptura între spatiile privat si public. Abordabila în contextul media ca separare între indivizi si presa, motivul principal fiind tocmai lipsa încrederii, aceasta îndeparatare a supravietuit revoltelor anticomuniste, prin lipsa profesionalismului si implicit a responsabilitatii cu care activeaza mass media. În ansamblu, reactia acestor indivizi „înregimentati” la demersurile civice în general, si implicit reactiile la revolte, ca expresie a unei coagulari civice de cea mai puternica anvergura, nu poate fi decît de respingere necontrolata, civicul devenind un referent al spatiului public. Or, acest aspect, sustinut de limitarea gîndirii critice, confera o posibila explicatie diferentei de perceptie asupra Revolutiei din ’89, pe de o parte, si a fenomenului Piata Universitatii, pe de alta parte, în cazul masei de mijloc, a „maturilor” care se împotriveau de pe margine demonstrantilor din ’90. Daca în cazul Revolutiei tinta care trebuia înlaturata era singulara, clara si palpabila, Nicolae Ceausescu, cerintele si modul de formulare a acestora depaseau bariera de perceptie a „pionilor”, de unde si renasterea lipsei de încredere si a unei distantari extreme. „Probleme fundamentale, din punct de vedere filosofic, erau total ignorate în numele «adevarului absolut» propovaduit de ideologii comunismului.”[iii]

În al doilea rînd, confuzia (ca element indus) si vocatia ridicatului din umeri (ca bagaj propriu) au schimbat raportarea indivizilor-pioni la Sistem, intervenind participarea, adeziunea. Cu atît mai mult cu cît „cineva spunea ca secretul viabilitatii unui sistem ca al nostru este ca promite putere.”[iv] Iar raspîndirea acestei puteri, în special în mîinile celor lipsiti de pregatire si deci neprofesionisti, avea un rol articifial, dar cu dublu efect: pe de o parte, recunostinta vesnica (si manifestarea acestei recunostinte) a celor care „niciodata n-au crezut ca vor ajunge…”, iar pe de alta parte, folosirea acestui strat de populatie pe postul unei saltele tîmpe, care amortizeaza si lasa fara replica eventualele nemultumiri din partea indivizilor înca neînregimentati. De altminteri, în acest context al accesului si al exercitarii puterii îsi gaseau loc singurele forme de atitudine critica a „pionilor”: fie autocritica, fie deconspirarea celorlalti pioni care nu-si faceau datoria.

Acesta era/este, deci, portretul robot al individului modelat de Sistem, relatia lui cu presa si cu ideea de profesionism.

Cenzura moralului

Ca lipsa cenzurii este aspru resimtita în zilele nostre, si posibil regretata, e un fapt evident în ceea ce priveste relatia dintre presa si politica, la fel de prezente fiind si urmele de sinonimie cu practicile amintite mai sus. Pilda cea mai la îndemîna si mai relevanta o constituie reactia lui Adrian Nastase la dezvaluirile „armaghedonale”: aducerea în spatiul public a unor tabu-uri care ar putea pata imaginea atît de fin lustruita, eventual pentru viitoarele alegeri, a fost un examen mult prea greu pentru premier, drept care l-a picat.

Un alt exemplu al repetarii efectelor pe care le viza cenzura comunista îl reprezinta (din pacate pentru buna intentie a realizatorului) cîteva momente din emisiunea lui Stelian Tanase de pe Realitatea TV (din 13 iunie 2002), avînd ca tema fenomenul Piata Universitatii si pe Marian Munteanu ca invitat. Trei elemente frapante în discutia publica dintre doi intelectuali, ambii participanti la fenomenul ce a durat aproape doua luni în 1990. Prima. Întrebarea realizatorului: Se stie cine i-a chemat pe mineri la Bucuresti? Raspunsul lui Marian Munteanu: Nu, dar acum nici nu mai conteaza. A doua. De ce au fost chemati minerii, din moment ce multi dintre demonstranti se retrasesera dupa alegerile din mai si, oricum, fortele oficiale de ordine intrasera deja în Piata? Raspuns: A fost o gafa politica. Cei care ajunsesera la putere nu scapasera însa de pornirile specifice puterii comuniste din care, se stie bine, proveneau. Trei: De ce a refuzat Iliescu dialogul, dupa ce anuntase ca îl accepta? Raspuns: A fost o neîntelegere. Întrebare ajutatoare: Nu din cauza camerei de filmat? Raspuns: Da, eu voiam sa proiectam în Piata înregistrarea întîlnirii cu Iliescu, de aceea aveam camera, dar nu, nu din acest motiv nu a mai avut loc dialogul.

Mai întîi, discursul lui Iliescu din 14 iunie 1990 catre mineri, prin care le multumeste ca au dat raspuns „chemarii noastre” si alte cîteva înregistrari video sînt dovezi deloc discrete ale faptului ca prima putere politica democratica de dupa ’89, si respectiv liderul acestei puteri, Ion Iliescu, i-a chemat la Bucuresti pe mineri. Ca aceasta atitudine ar fi fost doar efectul unei reminiscente de spirit comunist, si deci o gafa politica, este iarasi o concluzie de suprafata. Varianta acestei reprimari sîngeroase ca lectie pentru cei care în viitor ar îndrazni sa mai recurga la asemenea revolte, tot ca reminiscenta a regimului cu cenzura oficializata, este probabil o interpretare mult mai conforma cu spiritul si intentiile vechiului si noului regim. În privinta motivului pentru care dialogul mult dorit nu a mai avut loc, si a importantului rol pe care l-a avut camera de filmat, vorbesc tot înregistrarile video. Tot ca un amanunt, ca fundal al acestor discutii s-au folosit cîteva dintre înregistrarile de la mineriada din ‘90. Chiar si imagini cu Marian Munteanu care era batut, pe rînd, de zeci de mineri.

În privinta pozitiei lui Marian Munteanu, trecerea acestuia din tabara victimelor în cea a calailor, dincolo de libertatea unei alegeri personale, repeta modelele „rosii”: un telespectator cu vagi informatii despre fenomenul luat în discutie, trebuie sa fi ramas cel putin confuz, nu doar în privinta faptelor, ci si a interpretarii lor. În ceea ce-l priveste pe Stelian Tanase, ca realizator al unei emisiuni de televiziune (fara a-i compara pozitia cu cea a lui Marian Munteanu), faptul de a nu fi amintit macar lucrurile evidente pe care invitatul sau le-a eludat, chiar fara vreo intentie de manipulare din partea moderatorului, tin din pacate de lipsa profesionalismului jurnalistic, din pacate mai ales pentru cazul atît de sensibil al istoriei prezente si al adevarului despre un fenomen moral ca Piata Universitatii, cu sanse din ce în ce mai slabe de a se repeta.

În aceasta privinta, a principiilor care schiteaza responsabilitatea jurnalistica, pasul înainte al presei românesti este extrem de discret, iar oferirea unei baze pentru (re)facerea spiritului critic si mai apoi civic al indivizilor este implicit aproape inexistenta. „Teoriile imperativului divin si fundamentele metafizice ale normelor au devenit problematice la un secol distanta de Darwin, Freud si Einstein. Multi teoreticieni cred ca orice pretentie despre adevar este imposibila dupa J. Derrida si M. Foucault”.[v] Dar relativizarea si liberalizarea relationala ale prezentului, de care aminteam în introducere, nu pot echivala, în special într-un context ca cel din România, cu refuzul unor norme etice. Structura emisiunilor informative, prin îmbinarea stirilor de interes public cu cele de spectacol mediatic (fara a insinua totusi ca numai stirile de interes public ar avea acceptul normelor etice), si forma standardizata de prezentare a informatiilor, cu variatii extrem de subtiri în functie de importanta pe care o prezinta, sînt exemple formale ce nu pot provoca decît haos în mintea publicului de presa, disproportii false si, oricum, o lipsa totala a contextului si a sistematizarii. Dincolo de aceste aspecte, care, în caz de profesionalism, ar avea ca finalitate provocarea unei atitudini critice reale, respectarea normelor care tin de responsabilitatea jurnalistica are un rol esential si în trecerea de la receptarea pasiva a materialelor de presa la cea activa, în masura în care individul dispune, la rîndul lui, cel putin de energie si interes, o asemenea schimbare de niveluri presupunînd „declansarea unui angrenaj în care curiozitatea noastra de cunoastere sa se conjuge cu disponibilitatea noastra de a modifica universul personal al reprezentarilor, printr-o noua atitudine”[vi].

Cenzura legislatiei

Înainte de 1949, organul de cenzura din România era Directia Presei si Tipariturilor, care functiona în subordinea Ministerului Artelor si Informatiilor. În ’49 însa, sub considerentul ca institutia era învechita si trebuia deci perfectionata, printr-un Decret al Consiliului de Stat aceasta era transformata în Directia Generala a Presei si Tipariturilor (DGPT) si subordonata direct Comitetului Central al Partidului Comunist si Consiliului de Ministri[vii]. Din aproximativ aceleasi considerente, un Decret din 1975 horara înfiintarea Comitetului pentru Presa si Tiparituri, care urma sa fie desfiintat în 1977 (pentru ca astfel sa se instaleze autocenzura). Pe lînga aceste modificari de ansamblu, numai în primii trei ani de functionare a DGPT-ului apar aproximativ sapte Hotarîri ale Consiliului de Ministri, reînnoind mereu atributiile care îi reveneau si pe care Consiliul avea puterea sa le administreze. Toate aceste revizuiri dovedesc, daca mai era nevoie, importanta pe care o avea buna instrumentare a informatiilor.

Constitutia României de dupa ’89 a adus, formal, o specificare clara: cenzura de orice fel este interzisa (Art. 30, alin. 2). Acelasi articol prevede faptul ca libertatea de exprimare a gîndurilor, a opiniilor sau a credintelor si libertatea creatiilor de orice fel, prin viu grai, prin scris, prin imagini, prin sunete sau prin alte mijloace de comunicare în public, sînt inviolabile. Cu o „exceptie”: libertatea de exprimare nu poate prejudicia demnitatea, onoarea, viata particulara a persoanei si nici dreptul la propria imagine (alin. 6). Acest prim exemplu de contradictie, fara macar precizarea unei deosebiri între situatiile în care persoana este una publica sau nu, da contextul unui cadru legislativ restrictional, în care delictele de opinie, de pilda, tin de domeniul penalului. Comparatia poate fi facuta cu principiile Curtii Europene în privinta libertatii de exprimare, respectiv în problema posibilitatii guvernelor de a limita discursurile presupus calomniatoare. Doua asemenea principii edifica lucrurile:

1. Rolul proeminent al presei în informarea opiniei publice asupra chestiunilor de interes public si functia sa de cîine de paza al societatii indica faptul ca presa trebuie sa aiba o anumita libertate atunci cînd comenteaza asupra unor chestiuni de interes public/ politic.
2. Limitele criticii acceptabile sînt mai largi în privinta personalitatii politice sau a organismelor guvernamentale, decît pentru persoanele particulare. 

Aceste exemple, de fapt derivate ale mult mai vechiului principiu american FOIA (Freedom of Information Act), si care reprezinta bazele apararii libertatilor împotriva legificarii restrictionare, sînt cu totul îndepartate de practica româneasca. În absenta unei legi a presei, care ar fi asigurat cenzurii un loc din nou oficializat, Codul Penal este cel care sanctioneaza aceasta breasla. Nu numai amenintarea cu închisoarea în schimbul afirmarii unor opinii, ci mai întîi încadrarea juridica rezuma o restrictionare cel putin dezolanta. Articole din C.P. ca cele privitoare la insulta (205), calomnie (206), ofensa adusa autoritatii (238) sau ultraj (239) reglementeaza situatii care, într-o societate cu adevarat democratica, sînt lasate cel mult în seama codurilor deontologice. Si asta fara a comenta amanunte legate de redactarea acestor reglementari, cum ar fi de pilda cazul Art. 238 C.P., în spatele caruia se pot ascunde pîna si cei mai de jos functionari publici. Lezat abuziv, dreptul la expresie al jurnalistilor (respectiv dreptul cetatenilor de a fi informati), prin limitarea legislativa la care e supusa, este la ora actuala înca un element democratic din România urmarit de un nor negru. Iar singura schimbare ce se arata este o proaspata Ordonanta de Urgenta a Guvernului, din 23 mai 2002, care propune, printre altele, eliminarea pedepsei cu închisoarea pentru insulta si abrogarea Art. 238. Cum probabil aceasta problema va fi din nou supusa discutiilor doar peste multi alti ani, mult rîvnita libertate a presei nu a cîstigat nimic, principial, decît o amînare si o îmbunatatire mai mult sau mai putin valoroasa.

Cu tot acest cadru legal limitativ, relatia dintre societatea civila si presa nu poate exista în mod real decît pe baza încrederii, iar aceasta este direct dependenta de profesionalismul si implicarea institutiilor media. Cu atît mai mult cu cît schimbarea nu poate avea loc decît la nivelul individului. Si în aceasta schimbare, la fel ca în pervertirea urmarita de Sistemul comunist, un rol nemijlocit îl are presa, si mai cu seama responsabilitatea pe care trebuie sa si-o asume în acest context, indiferent de feliile de realitate pe care aleg sa le prezinte, într-un act care s-ar putea finaliza într-un exercitiu de gîndire.

Note

Vladimir Cvetovic

Media Responsibility of Politicians in Serbia

Abstract: The paper describes the Serbian media during the Yugoslavian War, observing its fluctuant relationship with the Serbian political structures.

Keywords: Serbia; Yugoslavian War; media and politics; censorship

What differentiates today’s potentates from all other potentates in the history of humanity and society? Here is the answer: while all previous potentates paid attention to the deeds of their lieges, today’s potentates pay attention primarily to the thoughts of their lieges.

Duro Šušnjic

The power of the media was recognized very early by politicians as a means of controlling and influencing the public. The last decade of the twentieth century in Serbia showed this power of the media in society and politics in the most brutal way. Censorship, a practice inherited from the past, had an important role in manipulating the public and influencing the behaviour of all: the public, the journalists and the politicians. This paper deals with the issue of censorship in the light of its consequences on the behaviour of the new political elite, and examines the media after the breakdown of the authoritarian regime in Serbia, the last one in the Balkans. The behaviour of Serbian politicians, who tend to rely on censorship in some aspects of public life, can be treated as a heritage of the past. Therefore, the first part of this paper focuses on a brief analysis of the characteristics of media-constructed reality, with special attention to the place of internal censorship. Additionally, media legislation, together with legal and political practices related to the media, is also covered, since it established the circumstances in which a media communication culture was created. In the second part of the paper I shall give some examples regarding the behaviour of the new Serbian political elite, whose origins are in the previous period, and its tendency to perpetuate practices that are characteristic of authoritarian rather than democratic rule. Nevertheless, I shall start this paper with some general remarks about the media and censorship.

Ideology, propaganda and censorship

In a capitalist society (though not exclusively), media play an important ideological role in legitimising the system. However, ideological control through the media is not firm, but rather informal and implicit, with imperfect effects. Political leaders often blame the media for political problems (caused by politicians) because it is very difficult to keep the editorial policies of different media under total control, and the information released by some authority is usually distorted before it can reach the audience. Therefore, the media can somewhat overcome the influence of one particular interest group. The media offer a socially-shared established viewpoint, articulated somewhere in the interaction between many social subjects (see more in Parenti, 1993). In countries undergoing transition, the role of the media can be even larger, since changes in the political and economic systems are accompanied by the deconstruction of ideology and value ladders attached to it. Here the media can be a very important agent for articulating a new ideology and value system. Opinion leaders and politicians in transitional countries are probably the most influential in this sense, and have immense responsibility in the public sphere because they have to change the practice of mass communication and to set the basis for a new public communication culture.

Unlike capitalism, socialism used firmer, more brutal ways of controlling the media and publicly available information. A case from former Yugoslavia is relevant in this sense, since censorship became much more widespread after the country’s breakdown (see more in Thompson, 1994). Whereas in capitalistic democratic societies the editorial policy sets the priority of the news, and selects the information that should or not be published (justified by the importance of some news items over others), in socialism news selection was made on the basis of its lucrative potential for the collective interests1; the information that might be detrimental to such interests was simply forbidden openly and by force. This does not mean that censorship is not present in democratic capitalist societies, but there it is countered by the culture of the freedom of information and by the numerous groups that fight against restricting the information area. Thus, censorship on the media usually comes from external sources, from various powerful interest groups such as the government in politically centralized societies, some informal or even criminal groups, and groups with particular economic interests, etc. The second characteristic of censorship is that it is imposed by pressure and force, and if some media or journalist should break restrictions, they face repression, which leads us to the problem of self-censorship.

The simplest and safest means by which the media or journalists can avoid repression is to impose self-censorship. Contrary to censorship which is imposed from external sources, self-censorship is an internally regulated way of behaviour. “Journalists will treat their self-censorship as a matter of being ‘realistic’ or ‘pragmatic’ or ‘playing by the rules.’ In their ability to live in a constant, if not always conscious, state of anticipatory response while maintaining an appearance of independence, newspeople are not much different from professionals in other hierarchical organizations” (Parenti 1993:41). As a result, self-censorship becomes a part of a culture influencing the communication practice of a society.

Media regulation and practice in Serbia

This communication practice has two main aspects, or rather areas in which it is manifested: the already mentioned journalists, and the audience, or the media consumers. In the long run, media-created reality, no matter how big the discrepancy between it and the real life, becomes a very important factor in any citizen’s everyday life. People’s cognitive schemas, created under incessant long-term impact of selected and censored information, are usually very resistant to changes, even when full access to information is allowed. There is no critical attitude toward information provided by the media, or there is significant distrust in the media in general, or just in some of them. Therefore, the fact that after the liberalization of the press at the beginning of the 90s, people in Serbia found themselves aligned as readers of either Politika (the government’s newspaper), or Telegraf or Blic (independent, pro-opposition journals) is not out of the ordinary. A significant number of readers in Serbia simply continued to follow the same source of news as before (the Communist Party, transformed into the new Socialist Party of Serbia, took over the main media), disbelieving the media founded after 1990. However, even the audience of these new media in Serbia were/are affected by the system that existed before the 90s. While before the changes everyone knew what should or should not be published and claimed publicly, and what language should be used, new circumstances brought potential freedom and width, but only with vague and imprecise ideas about basic communicational rules. This lack of any elaborated rules for practice influences the behaviour of all: the politicians, the media, and the public. However, the question remains: whose responsibility is it to change this? Here we have two contenders, politicians and the media: for certain aspects of culture it is politicians who are responsible, as public figures, whereas for some others it is journalists and editors who are responsible.

The environment in which the media in Serbia used to function, the environment that influenced the communication culture in Serbia can be treated as political interventionism over the media; it can therefore be accounted for as engendered by politicians (not only as public figures who claim something publicly, but also as an interest group which can go to such lengths as to forbid the work of some media). Independent media in Serbia were experiencing different kinds of pressure and hardship, some of the most significant being imposed through legislative and economic regulations and practices.

First of all there was an (extremely repressive) Public Information Law issued in 1998, which was at variance not only with international regulations, such as the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, but also with the constitutions of Serbia and Yugoslavia. The information law was specifically aimed at controlling the independent media in Serbia, and at establishing censorship on a legal basis. The following three points highlighted in an analysis conducted by Marijana Filipovic (Filipovic, 2000:18) represent the best illustration.

Articles 3 and 30 require the press (both printed and broadcast media) to publish/ broadcast only information that is entirely true. If they do not succeed in reaching this goal, the author, editor, publisher, or broadcaster carries personal responsibility for the truthfulness of information.

Articles 42 and 50 provide censorship actions against the press, which would include both pre- and post-publication sanctions.

Articles 67 and 69 of the Public Information Law provide punishments for violations of Articles 2 and 42. These punishments mainly include fines, which do not meet the ‘proportionality’ requirement in respect to the harm that was done. Fines are also to be paid for “broadcasting or re-broadcasting programs of a political-propaganda nature in Serbian or in any of the recognized national minorities’ languages” (Article 27).

The part of the Law which regulated the work of media during the war was even more explicit, introducing censorship openly (Articles 5, 7, 8, 10, 13, 14, and 15). There was a restriction on reporting from the battlefield, which included a ban on giving information about loses incurred by the Yugoslav Army and Police. The Law also gave instruction as to how the language should be used while reporting on a conflict and the sides involved (Filipovic, 2000:19). Hence, armed Albanians in Kosovo were called terrorists, refugees from Kosovo during the conflict were described as Albanian victims of the NATO campaign, and NATO soldiers were described as the dogs of war.

The application of the Public Information Law had a dramatic outcome for the freedom of expression, imposing extremely high sentences in terms of money primarily. The trials for alleged crimes committed by the media were conducted in an express manner, and the reasons invoked included critical coverage on the activities of the country’s power structures. The Evropljanin weekly magazine was found guilty of blaming the president of FRY for the country’s bad situation. On October 24th 1998 this magazine was fined with around $150.000 (Filipovic, 2000:22). For similar reasons were punished also editors and journalists, with sums that exceeded their salaries many times. Fortunately, this repression did not last long enough to completely diminish the alternative view offered by the independent media.

The other aspect of media behaviour is a consequence of the lack of appropriate rules that would regulate the basic professional standards. The essential problems of Serbian journalism were the reason for publishing the Ethical Code, a handbook made by the Independent Association of Serbian Journalists. “It was in fact, a response to the voices which expressed doubts on the question – is there any rule in our profession, or is everything allowed?” (Bogoeva, Rokvic, Vojnovic, 1999:5). The main aim was to conduce to the education of journalists and advancement of the profession. By giving an overview of the media codes in 26 out of 28 European countries, the authors categorized the content of these codes under six categories. Among them, two appear to be the most important and the most exhaustive: the responsibility of the media and journalists toward the public (citizens), and the protection of the integrity of the profession from any external influence (ibid. 17). Although these analysed codes belong to Western Europe mainly, it is obvious that even in the countries with a solid tradition of free press the most problematic issues are the same as in countries without any tradition of independent journalism. Of course, these problems have specific characteristics in the West and somewhat different features in the former socialist countries. The situation in Serbia was among the most difficult compared to all other European countries, because the “clash between declared objectives and clandestine resistance was perhaps the most clearly expressed” (Thompson, 2000:6).

To complete the picture we have to pinpoint the main characteristics of media reporting in Serbia before the elections in 2000. One can find two interpretations of reality: one given by the regime and the other given by independent media. Therefore, the contents of pro-regime Politika and independent Glas Javnosti (Voice of the Public) give us two significantly different stories.

Reality as presented by Politika was oriented towards Russia and China, putting them in a very positive light, while Western countries were depicted as threatening. Furthermore, Russia and China were seen to have a very decisive role in international affairs, as well as the power to dictate the world’s politics. On the other hand, reports about any cooperation between the West and the above-mentioned countries were scarce. Moreover, if there was any kind of official agreement between Russia and the United States about issues concerning Yugoslavia, there was no report on that but on the reaction of Russia’s anti-American opposition. As far as reporting on internal affairs was concerned, there was an almost complete absence of coverage on the political parties which formed the opposition. These parties were mentioned only as exponents of the west or of the forces which went against Serbian national interests. Both the West and the opposition were the main perpetrators responsible for the bad situation in the country. Everything was justified by national interests, and national interests were strongly linked with the regime as the ‘only guarantee’ of national sovereignty, freedom and prosperity.

Glas Javnosti presented more Western-centred views, whereby the US and Western Europe played the key role in international affairs, also decisively influencing Serbia’s internal affairs. The presence of numerous articles on activities of the opposition parties, as well as on informal anti-regime groups such as NGOs, set up a completely different context for the government’s activities. The West was depicted in a much more positive light than in Politika. For example, in Glas Javnosti there was a clear link between the crisis in Kosovo (this was in 1998) and international sanctions against Yugoslavia, and the role of Serbian/ Yugoslav government in creating the country’s disastrous internal as well as external situation. In Politika, there was no reference to any event (the Serbian policy in Kosovo, for example) as a reason for introducing the sanctions. In order to avoid somehow the threat posed by the Information Law, Glas Javnosti resorted to different authorities, politicians, economists, foreign celebrities and professionals, etc. to criticize the government. However, at the time even such tactics were not sufficient to prevent punishment for ‘disobeying’ written and unwritten rules.

Comparing the two newspapers, one can see how important censorship was for the previous government, in order that it might gain and retain control over the public opinion. The same content which is presented in Politika looks absolutely different put in the context of all relevant information. This alternative view given by independent media significantly diminished the influence of the government’s propaganda, and the only way to cope with that problem was, for the state officials, to unify the media. Therefore, the control and repression of the independent sources of information and the media until September 2000 were constantly tightened.

After the changes

What has changed with the new government? First of all, the new Serbian government (the ruling political force, DOS, the Democratic Opposition of Serbia, is a coalition of 18 political parties) built its image on the opening of the country, especially toward the West. The message that these parties are sending all the time is that Serbia/ Yugoslavia is a part of Europe and, as such, it must be a modern democratic state. They are constantly insisting on the right for free access to information, and the need for independent and critical media, criticizing the politics of censorship. The way from criminalized autocratic rule to the ‘modern country of western democracy’ is claimed not to be easy, but definitely reachable. On the other hand, the former opposition, which has preserved its name even under the new circumstances (the Democratic Opposition of Serbia), had strong support from the Western European countries and the US before the elections, and this support has continued ever since. Shortly after the elections Yugoslavia became a member, or at least was granted a privileged status in many international organizations, and citizens have been able to see the results of the new policies. This huge international support and economic help from the West has additionally obliged the government to comply with the rules of modern western democracies. Consequently, the new government could not even imagine introducing any kind of open censorship, as the previous regime did.

Under these circumstances (the process of integration into international institutions, and ten years of authoritarian rule which set some ‘standards’ of political game), it might be expected that there has been some receding into the past, particularly when the new politicians came to unpleasant issues and topics; censorship, nevertheless, has had to be as covert as possible. Basically, there are two options: because open censorship of specific information is out of the question, politicians can try to invoke the self-censorship of journalists by ‘advising’ publicly whether some published information or issue could be dangerous or bad for the national interests. This could be good tactics, since the journalists from the pro-regime media developed this kind of self-censorship during the previous years, and they would just have to adjust to the new politicians in heeding to what could be sanction-proof reporting. The second way to control the media is even more efficient, because it counts on editors or journalists loyal to certain political factions within DOS, who will convey the desired editorial policy. In this case, politicians have to lobby for their purposes, and to offer some privileges to the editors or journalists. However, I will focus here only on this visible appeal to self-censorship, namely, to the politicians’ advice as to what could be an appropriate editorial policy, through suggestions concerning what issues and information might be best to avoid in public.

The other aspect that also influences the media’s credibility – the lack of a communication culture and the public figures’ liability for this (including the media as authorities in public opinion moulding) – is indivisible from the previously mentioned problem. Politicians in Serbia have very often made statements that were not checked beforehand, or adequately prepared for publication. Of course, there is always the journalists’ or the editors’ responsibility to additionally check some information, or to prepare it in an adequate way for publication, but my intention here is to focus on politicians. The reason for this lies in already mentioned fact that they bear most of the burden for changing practices in the media, by modifying the law (which has not been changed, but at least is not used anymore), and showing, through personal examples, what correct communication practices mean.

Three interesting events that became big public affairs are the best illustration of the above mentioned: the case of assassinated former policeman Gavrilovic, the affair about the law on extra profiteers and the published list of the profiteers’ names, and finally the issue of the mass-graves of Kosovar victims.

The Gavrilovic affair started when the Blic daily newspaper published on its front page a story about some documents that Gavrilovic had given to Yugoslav president Koštunica on the day of his assassination. These ‘documents’ allegedly contained some proofs about the connections between the Serbian political leaders and organized crime in the country. The newspaper published this information as received from a confidential source, presumably from some person close to president Koštunica. At that time disputes between the two most influential factions in DOS (the Democratic Party to which Serbian Prime Minister Zoran Dinidic belonged, and the Democratic Party of Serbia to which Yugoslav president Vojislav Koštunica belonged) were amongst the main political topics, and this story simply served to kindle this dispute. From initial ‘proofs’ of the connection between criminals and politicians, after a few days only some accusations and suspicions about the poor performance of the Serbian government (which were already obvious to the public, and partly already stressed by the media) remained; the assassination was used only for political purposes. As far as media are concerned, this story is interesting on two accounts. After publishing the story, Blic editors and journalists were summoned to the police headquarters for questioning, at around the same time when the Serbian minister of police was promising that the authorities would not force the newspaper to reveal the source of its information. This event reinforced public suspicion that the new government did not to have full control over the Serbian police, and that the threat of repression was still present. Fortunately, after this first excess, the focus moved from Blic to a quarrel between politicians, which in fact posed another question: was this newspaper used for some political games? One public statement of the Independent Association of Serbian Journalists is pretty much in line with the posed question. The Association warned that there was ongoing pressure on the media in Serbia, but also advised the media that they should be cautious not to become involved in situations which could compromise them, and turn them into an excuse for heated political debates (Blic, 14 August, 2001). State Security Service Chief of Cabinet claimed that the ‘Gavrilovic case’ was a subject of media manipulation (Politika, 31 August, 2001).

The second example is related to publishing the list of extra-profiteers who were supposed to pay special taxes because they had earned money under the previous regime and had been profiting from some privileged position. The law that should regulate this was conceived as an act of social justice, in the sense that those who had been making huge profits had to pay a tax which would be used to cover social expenses. After the list of enterprises and persons that should pay this tax appeared in the media, another public discussion started, this time about the correctness of such an act (publishing the list). The main argument, which could be partly justified, was that the list resembled to some extent the practices of the previous regime and its lists of those who deserved public condemnation. However, this was also a necessary quest for justice. Serbian Prime Minister Zoran Dinidic brought the soundest arguments against publishing the list, arguing that it could harm the safety of some citizens and their reputations. In reply, Mladan Dinkic, Governor of the Federal Bank, claimed that Dinidic was under pressure (from some of the tycoons) to withdraw the list (Blic, 26 July, 2001). Although directed to Dinkic, the Prime Minister’s call was also an indirect call to the media to avoid this hot issue. However, Dinkic, as well as the commission that had compiled the list and made it public without thorough checking, also had some share of the blame. Negligence resulted in mentioning one family on that list, though that family had used the money received under special terms for a medical operation of blind twins (they were removed from the list after the intervention). The biggest concern related to this issue was raised after broadcasting a video clip where the faces of the main extra profiteers appeared for the first time on state television. This video clip was instantly removed, and journalists from this TV station had to ‘put ashes on the heads’, claiming that everything had been a big mistake and a bungled job of inexperienced new employees. “RTS (Radio Television of Serbia) does not function in such a way that everything is under control; hence, excesses of this type are possible. The mistake was not broadcasting the video clip, but the way in which the clip was made. Everything was like propaganda action and that is the reason why the problem appeared” – these were the words of Aleksandar Crkvenjakov, chief editor of RTS (NIN, 26 July, 2001). Again, there is overt intention on the part of politicians to avoid publishing some information, and on the other hand, inappropriate practice standards of media professionals, but also of officials from the Federal Bank in preparing the information for the public.

Finally, there was the notorious affair of mass graves found on several locations in Serbia, where the victims of the Kosovar war had been buried by the previous regime in order to hide its crimes. Therefore, it is not strange that the parties that were in power at the time when these crimes and cover-ups happened should have criticised the action of revealing such facts. They claimed that the whole thing was framed, that there were not so many bodies as it was alleged, that everything should stop because it was not in Serbia’s best interest (Mirjana Markovic in Politika on 25 July, 2001), etc. In this context, it is interesting to analyse the statements made by Yugoslav president Koštunica on several occasions (for example at his regular press conference held on 24.05.2001), when he claimed that the information about these mass graves was not accurate and that even public mentioning of that issue was detrimental to the national interest. Besides the fact that Koštunica indirectly insisted on self-censorship of state officials and the media, he did not make a clear distinction between the previous regime and the new governments (republic and federal). This attitude also had firm support from the public, consolidated during the previous 10 years through constant propaganda; the responsibility of perpetuating a basically similar political message is very serious. One survey published in Politika on 30 July 2001 on the question of whether “war crimes and mass graves should be obliterated or not”, showed that 44.7% citizens of Serbia thought that there had been war crimes committed by the Serbs, but that the others (Croatians, Muslims, etc.) had committed even more. However, almost 28% considered that the revealing of mass graves was a shameful act and that it had to be stopped immediately. These attitudes are likely to be strengthened if they are supported by persons with high reputation.

One more example is illustrative in relation to censorship. A documentary movie about the massacre in Srebrenica committed by the Yugoslav Army forces was broadcast on the state TV on Wednesday 11th July, 2001. The very next day a regular session of the Serbian assembly was dedicated to this event at the request of the opposition, the parties which had been in power at the time when the massacre took place. The opposition demanded that the people responsible for that broadcast – which had laid such blame on the Serbs – should be identified. In a reply, the DSS (a party of president Koštunica) phrased the question differently: who had blamed the Serbs for committing those crimes? Concurrent with this ongoing debate, the state television started to reprise the documentary, which was, however, aborted when a break in the assembly session started. There was no explanation why this broadcasting was aborted or at whose request.

Conclusion

These examples show something that could be named as uncertainty in the roles that should be played in the new circumstances. On one hand, they wanted to behave in a responsible, professional and democratic manner. The main actors of the mentioned affairs, Koštunica and Dindic, stressed the importance of independent and professional media on many occasions, but in some aspects they would rather make use of some advantages that only practices inherited from the previous regime could confer. On the other hand, the problem of educating journalists and editors came into focus, since there was no longer strong political control that would ‘prescribe’ ways of reporting. The way in which information is presented, as in the case of broadcasting the video on profiteers, is crucial because under loose (political or economic) control, media professionals must introduce self-control under a professional code or some similar positive regulations. That would also be one of the ways of preventing censorship, by not allowing some external groups to lay down the rules for the media.

The general conclusion is that the new circumstances in Serbia are much more favourable to the media, but the situation is still relatively critical: the institution of independent media is not very strong yet. However, a good aspect of the political constellation in Serbia is that the ruling coalition is much more diversified. Among the coalition partners it is not strange to see opposite approaches or attitudes toward certain issues. This should ensure mutual political control in following democratic rules and fair play, which would subsequently have positive consequences on the media. The pluralism of public voices is the best way of preventing manipulation, which has also proved to be true in the case of Serbia. The previous regime tried to take complete control over the public information area because propaganda could not be efficient enough. A paradigmatic example is the period of the Kosovar conflict, when war propaganda had full effect on the public at the beginning (people were confused, frightened, informed mainly from one source, namely the state), but started to decline when people began searching for and listening to alternative sources of information provided by foreign news services, such as Deutche Welle or Voice of America.

While questioning ways of preventing censorship as enforced not by media professionals but by some external sources (different interest groups), we should not neglect the role of media and market professionals. The media market poses demands for different types of content and information, and different segments of audience can justify alternative information, approaches or viewpoints. Additionally, media professionals are not a homogeneous professional group (the majority of modern positive regulations give journalists the right not to work for the broadcasting company whose editorial policy is in collision with the journalist’s personal feelings.

To sum up, it is hard to believe that censorship in Serbia will be eradicated, since those who have the responsibility to do that, namely politicians, would rather follow their own interests and find ever more sophisticated and invisible ways of maintaining some degree of control. Therefore, pluralism of the media and the interest groups behind them is the most realistic aim, which can provide the basis for monitoring the problem of censorship and media professionalism through a mutual control of the media actors.

1 Collective interests are usually defined in a very vague way, which allows the regime to interpret them in accordance with daily or other specific political needs.

Bibliography:

Bogoeva, Julija, Rokvic Dragutin, and Vojnovic, Dura, (Eds.) (1999). Eticki kodeksi za štampane i elektronske medije (Ethical Codeses for Press and Electronic Media), Nezavisno udruzenje novinara Srbije, Beograd.

Filipovic, Marijana (2000). Unpublished MA thesis at The Sociology department of the Central European University, Warsaw

Parenti, Michael (1993). Inventing Reality: The Politics of News Media. St. Martin’s Press, New York.

Šušnjic, Duro, (1995). Ribari ljudskih duša: ideja manipulacije i manipulacija idejama. Cigoja štampa, Beograd.

Thompson, Mark, (2000). Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Hertzegovina, Macedonia (FYROM) and Kosovo International Assistance to Media. OSCE, Representative on Freedom of the Media, Vienna.

Thompson, Mark, (1994). Forging War (The Media in Serbia, Croatia

Boyan Manchev

FAUT-IL CENSURER LES ÉCRITS NAZIS ?

CONSIDÉRATIONS P RÉLIMINAIRE

Abstract: The article discusses the problem of censoring Nazi writings, and the ethical problems raised by such texts.

Keywords: Censorship; Nazi writings; political discourse

            Un cas particulier

            Pour aborder le sujet, je procéderai d’un cas particulier. Il s’agit du scandale public qui a eu récemment lieu en Bulgarie et qui a été provoqué par l’initiative de la maison d’édition Jarava 2002 (prolongeant de son côté les activités de la maison d’édition Jar Ptica) ayant publié une dizaine d’écrits nazis et négationnistes plus ou moins « classiques » : de Mein Kampf à un ouvrage dédié au fameux négationniste Robert Faurisson.

Cet événement a provoqué un débat houleux dans les médias culturels en Bulgarie[1]. Le débat se réduisait en fin de compte à la simple question pragmatique : est-ce que la publication de livres nazis (et en général de textes qui propagent la haine raciale et religieuse et mettent en question les droits dits universels de l’homme ainsi que la dignité de différents groupes de gens) doit être permise ? La question supplémentaire était : est-ce que les éditions en question sont légales du point de vue de la législation bulgare et si non, n’est-il pas nécessaire que le pouvoir judiciaire engage des poursuites contre les éditeurs ? D’ailleurs, la police est intervenue plusieurs fois en confisquant les exemplaires en vente, sans sanctionner pourtant les libraires qui les distribuaient (en fait, le mot « libraire » n’est pas très exact parce que les livres étaient distribués exclusivement par les bouquinistes sur un marché à ciel ouvert sis place Slaveikov en plein centre de Sofia). Il faut dire que ces actions policières n’ont pas laissé l’impression d’être bien coordonnées, systématiques et ce qui plus est, leur base judiciaire n’était pas tout à fait claire (selon les critiques des publications ces dernières étaient illégales pour avoir transgressé les articles 162 et 164 du Code Pénal concernant la propagation d’intolérance religieuse, politique et raciale ; dans ce cas s’imposait la question de savoir pourquoi les actions du pouvoir n’étaient pas plus radicales ).

            Lors du débat médiatique qui a pris les dimensions d’un scandale, deux « camps » se sont formés autour des deux réponses unilatérales possibles à la question : faut-il autoriser la publication de textes (néo)nazis. En fait, la formulation « deux camps » est un peu exagérée : dans ce débat il n’y avait qu’un seul camp, celui des critiques plus ou moins acharnés de la publication, une grande partie d’entre eux réclamant l’exercice du pouvoir répressif de l’État, dans toute la sévérité de la loi, contre les propriétaires de la maison d’édition Jarava. L’autre « camp » ne comprenait en effet que les éditeurs eux-mêmes – une minorité infime (deux personnes en fait) mais en même temps faisant grand bruit, grâce surtout à la presse à sensation ou à des médias prétendus sérieux qui ont profité du « scandale » et qui leur ont donné une tribune favorisant la libre expression de leur pensée. L’énergie critique s’est focalisée sur ces quelques personnages, ce qui, me semble-t-il (au moins), a mené à passer sous silence le fait de loin plus inquiétant que derrière cette redoutable minorité se cachait une majorité muette et invisible – la majorité des lecteurs de ces livres dont on ignore toujours le tirage, mais qui était sans aucun doute – à en juger par les signes d’un grand succès commercial – fort élevé – 10000 exemplaires ? ou même 20000 ?

De toute façon, derrière le bavardage arrogant des éditeurs-businessmen se cachait la majorité muette des lecteurs qui rendait possible ce grand succès commercial. Alors, s’il est sans doute problématique de qualifier les redoutables éditeurs de néo-nazis – ils sont avant tout, comme je viens de le dire, des businessmen d’initiative voire d’envergure qui ont réussi à découvrir une mine d’or non exploitée jusqu’à maintenant par l’économie de marché – que dire des lecteurs en question ? C’est là la grande question qui se pose et qui s’imposait naguère sans être explicitement formulée : est-ce que les nombreux lecteurs des éditions de Jarava étaient eux-mêmes des adeptes des idées national-socialistes et négationnistes?

            Cette question concrète servira de point de départ à ces quelques considérations préliminaires sur le problème de la censure. Et on se dirigera ensuite vers quelques remarques marginales sur la psychologie de la lecture. Si on a recours à la célèbre notion de Wolfgang Iser d’acte de lecture, on peut se poser la question : quels sont les actes de lecture qui font la lecture de la littérature nazie non seulement possible mais même désirée ?

Le risque de la lecture et son enjeu politique

Les développements qui vont suivre n’ont qu’un caractère de notes préliminaires et d’hypothèses de travail. Ils ne sont qu’un premier pas dans la voie de la réflexion critique qui nous incombe toujours à nous autres, gens du livre et de la plume (une autre minorité infime). Et de fait, mon exposé va procéder bien de la figure de ces gens du livre et de la plume. Peter Sloterdijk a lancé dans sa conférence « Règles pour le parc humain » qui a fait du bruit récemment en Allemagne l’opposition entre les notions de « humanisation » – procédure essentielle du devenir de l’homme – et de « bestialisation », le procès qui en prend le contre-pied et qui désinhibe l’homme en le faisant retourner au règne animal[2]. Dans le procès d’humanisation la culture du livre a occupé une place cruciale. Sloterdijk insiste sur la thèse que la lecture a été l’instrument privilégié de « l’humanisation ». Cependant, notre exemple témoigne de façon évidente du fait que la thèse de Sloterdijk ne peut pas être prise en tant que modèle universel, surtout si on envisage la notion de « humanisation » dans un sens « humaniste » (ce qui contredirait en effet les prémisses de Sloterdijk lui-même qui pose, au contraire, l’ humanisme dans la lignée du procès continu de l’humanisation). Dans la perspective d’une psychologie de la lecture on peut risquer une apostrophe à la thèse de Sloterdijk. La culture du livre impose un nouveau type de relation et de tension entre la sphère publique et la sphère privée. Dans un certain sens, la pratique de la lecture (surtout de la lecture littéraire) a toujours créé un espace d’indistinction entre le public et le privé qui a reçu à l’époque moderne la dénomination courante de « fiction ». Cet espace d’indistinction est un espace de risque, un espace dangereux. Il est un espace de risque du côté « personnel » (un espace plastique où l’être se risque et s’expérimente) mais aussi du côté « public ». Ce qui équivaut à dire que c’est, ni plus ni moins, un espace de risque politique. De là on pourrait essayer de retracer l’histoire du livre et l’histoire de la lecture en tant qu’histoire des pratiques restrictives dont le but est la neutralisation de ce risque politique fondamental (sans doute le point de départ d’un tel parcours devrait être cherché dans la position paradoxale de Platon exprimée dans le Phèdre où il expose sa position extrêmement critique envers l’écriture (et par conséquent envers l’émergente culture du livre), et cependant il l’exprime à travers l’écriture ; ce parcours aboutira bien sûr à nos jours, au cas significatif de Rushdie et au-delà).

En deux mots, l’histoire de la lecture peut être vue aussi comme une histoire de la censure.

La confrérie nationale – une communauté de lecteurs-amis

Dans cette perspective on pourrait considérer le projet national comme la plus radicale tentative d’apprivoisement du risque littéraire. L’idéologie nationale va mettre  à sa base même le principe littéraire : elle aspire à créer une unité politique à travers la langue commune et surtout à travers la lecture des livres – une communauté d’amis-lecteurs. Le projet national forme un espace de fiction commun, c’est-à-dire public, un espace de fiction qui unit toute la communauté. Le canon de la littérature nationale consiste toujours en un nombre restreint de livres sacralisés dont la lecture (souvent à haute voix), l’exégèse admirative et parfois même leur apprentissage par cœur forment une vraie communauté dans le sens de communion.

Les autodafés nazis sont, dans ce sens, non seulement une violation excessive des principes humanistes mais aussi un phénomène inscrit profondément dans la logique des projets nationaux. En forçant la transformation de la fiction littéraire en mythe communautaire fondamental, l’idéologie nationale doit empêcher le fonctionnement de la littérature comme un projet alternatif et privé. Elle ne serait que l’émanation d’un seul individu, un paradoxal individu universel : la Nation. De ce point de vue les autodafés nazis sont l’accomplissement total d’un programme venu au monde avec le nationalisme, le programme politique du modernisme par excellence. De ce fait, on ne peut qu’adhérer à la thèse de Sloterdjik selon laquelle le nazisme occupe une position ambivalente dans l’histoire politique – il représente à la fois les tendances de l’humanisation et les tendances de la bestialisation.

 Psychologie d’une lecture redoutable

            Ceci dit, nous pouvons revenir à notre question de départ, et même à la question qui lui est préalable : faut-il censurer la littérature nazie aujourd’hui ? Et pourquoi jouit-elle d’un relatif succès ? À cause d’un nombre élevé de crypto-fascistes dans nos sociétés ?

            D’abord, il faut donner une réponse à la question : Quel est le principe de base, le garant transcendant pour ainsi dire, sur lequel une telle censure s’appuierait ? Ce sont, sans aucun doute, les droits universels de l’homme. Un principe universel qui prolonge les idées des Lumières et de la Révolution française – en principe, du point de vue structurel, le même principe qui a été posé à la base des projets nationaux. Alors, ce principe présuppose et exige à son tour une communauté de lecteurs. Le paradoxe c’est qu’aujourd’hui cette communauté manque de plus en plus (s’il a jamais existé) d’un canon commun. Mais une communauté est-elle possible sans un canon commun ? On peut dire plus brutalement : c’est la communauté qui manque aujourd’hui, à l’époque de la mondialisation (ou la globalisation), de plus en plus. Le paradoxe c’est qu’à l’époque de la mondialisation – un phénomène régi par la sphère économique – le seul horizon commun devient la « culture » de masse, ce qui n’est qu’un signe inquiétant d’un procès de « délittéralisation », ou bien de re-bestialisation, comme dirait Sloterdijk. Ce procès de bestialisation s’avère sans alternative à cause du simple fait qu’en l’absence de possibilité d’adhésion globale à un canon commun, le domaine de la violence reste le plus simple et le plus facilement partageable dénominateur commun possible.

            Et c’est bien dans cette situation de dé-littéralisation qu’une inversion tout à fait paradoxale a vu le jour, et elle concerne justement le cas qu’on a cité ici en exemple. Il s’agit du fait que dans une période où la violence s’impose comme un horizon universel, des textes chargés de violence extrême ont un nouvel essor. D’abord, le seul fait que la violence liée normalement à la bestialisation est de retour dans le média même de « l’humanisation », le livre, mérite une analyse attentive. Est-ce que le nazisme pourrait renaître de la culture du livre qui autrement se trouve en plein déclin ? Et si non, quels sont les lecteurs invisibles, anonymes des écrits nazis et quelle est la raison de leur intérêt ?

            La réponse est contenue dans la structure de la question même. D’abord et avant tout les lecteurs de ces livres sont des lecteurs, des lecteurs dans le sens qui a été investi ici dans ce terme : ils entrent dans un espace indéfini entre le public et le privé où couvent des risques fondamentaux. Sans doute, s’approprier le risque radical de s’exposer au mal radical (ou, au moins, à ce que le sens commun considère comme mal radical – ce serait la formule la plus exacte de ces lecteurs redoutables) – est un choix conscient et consciemment dangereux. Et peut-être est-ce avant tout et surtout le désir de retrouver la possibilité d’un tel risque radical, c’est-à-dire, d’une expérimentation radicale de soi-même avant tout autre (un désir qui est dans la plupart des cas de caractère compensatoire et de genèse traumatique), et en même temps et du même coup le désir d’une position critique radicale quant à l’aspect public, qui rend un tel choix possible.

            Comment ne pas censurer les écrits nazis ?

            Ce n’est pas pour déculpabiliser les lecteurs de livres nazis et même non pas pour répondre négativement à la question si ces lecteurs sont nécessairement des nazis (je suis bien conscient que parmi eux se cachent plusieurs crypto-nazis) que je dis tout cela, mais pour essayer d’analyser les raisons de l’effervescence inquiétante de cette littérature. Et cependant, j’ose insister sur le fait que ce phénomène ne pourrait être qualifié purement et simplement de phénomène néo-nazi, de signe de la renaissance des attitudes fascistes, parce qu’une telle qualification va simplifier beaucoup les choses, va créer une homogénéisation peu désirée et en fin de compte empêcherait la véritable analyse critique des causes du phénomène. D’abord, ces lecteurs ne peuvent pas être traités de simples nazis à cause du simple fait que le nazisme est un phénomène communautaire. Mais dans le cas bulgare au moins on ne peut pas parler d’une véritable communauté de lecteurs (dans le sens de la communauté monastique, universitaire ou nationale par exemple). Et la constatation d’une telle absence est aussi à la base de mon inquiétude au sujet de ce que c’est plutôt la censure que la libre diffusion de ces écrits qui pourrait ouvrir le chemin à la formation d’une telle communauté, exactement à cause du fait que la mise hors la loi pourrait créer un climat favorable pour la formation d’une communauté ésotérique de lecteurs, communauté qui partagerait le même danger, le danger de la lecture qui va être transcendé en tant que principe public, bien que restant souterrain – un vrai ferment communautaire, le principe d’une future confrérie, d’une communauté de confrères.

Mais alors faut-il accepter sans réserve la réédition et la distribution libre de cette littérature ?

Ma réponse aura deux phases liées aux deux phases de la question :

1. Il est très difficile d’exiger sans aucune réserve l’interdiction de publier ces livres. Si la liberté d’expression est un principe universel, il ne doit pas être transgressé[3]. C’est cette transgression qui a vu son excès terrifiant dans les monstrueux régimes totalitaires du siècle passé.

2. En même temps, dans la mesure où il s’agit de la diffusion, la réponse serait « non ». La diffusion de la littérature en question ne peut et ne doit pas être libre. Il me faudrait ici retourner une fois de plus aux tendances déjà mentionnées de la bestialisation contemporaine. D’abord, il faut que je fasse la remarque que ce terme me semble lui aussi trop redoutable, étant inscrit dans une tradition combattue par Sloterdijk lui-même et fondée sur l’opposition radicale entre l’homme et l’animal qui présuppose toujours une définition essentielle, et de là essentialiste de l’homme. Je vais tout de même garder la figure de Sloterdijk d’un procès qui va à l’encontre du procès historique d’humanisation à travers la culture du livre, pour affirmer, sans trop grande originalité d’ailleurs, que les tendances en question procèdent surtout de l’ontologisation de l’économie de marché qui marque notre époque : après la chute du bloc communiste, en d’autres termes, après la fin de la période des grandes idéologies politiques, le principe économique reste la seule grande force motrice du monde contemporain.

De là ma thèse : s’il ne faut pas réduire le droit universel d’expression, il faut réduire le droit dit « de libre entreprise », en postulant qu’un produit (ce qui veut dire une chose faisant l’objet d’un commerce), en l’occurrence un texte, qui humilie les droits et la dignité de l’homme, qui propage des modèles de violence, ne peut pas être utilisé comme source de profit économique. La réédition de textes de ce type pourrait avoir lieu mais elle devrait être superviser par des organismes publics (universités, musées, instituts de recherches). Je doute fort qu’avec une telle régulation, même envisagée ici comme une hypothèse sans contours précis et bien utopique à cause de cela, le phénomène qui a servi de prétexte à cette brève réflexion ait pu jouir de son envergure actuelle (combien ont été les lecteurs de ces livres dans les bibliothèques ?). Et ce qui est encore plus certain, c’est que les businessmen de Jarava auraient perdu tout intérêt à cette affaire. Car aujourd’hui le nazisme n’est sans doute plus possible comme projet politique dans le sens traditionnel, c’est-à-dire moderne, du terme. Mais en même temps, il ne faut pas nous calmer trop et relâcher notre vigilance. Le fascisme, comme toutes sortes d’avatars du totalitarisme et d’autres projets monstrueux est toujours possible, surtout sous condition d’être et dans la mesure où il est source de profit économique. Pourrait-on dire dans cette perspective qu’avec le nationalisme nous étions en présence d’une idéologie qui créait le canon littéraire, tandis qu’aujourd’hui (oserais-je dire, avec la globalisation à l’américaine) nous avons les best-sellers qui créent l’idéologie ?

            Alors, les néo-nazis, s’ils existent parmi nous, doivent devenir des lecteurs dans les bibliothèques. Ce qui est très peu probable. Le vrai danger aujourd’hui n’est plus le livre. Et dans cette situation, lui, le livre, retrouverait peut-être une nouvelle possibilité, sa chance nouvelle – de redevenir une expérience de risque où toutes les prétentions universelles peuvent être remises en question. Un espace critique sans aucune condition. 

Zoltán Tibori Szabó

The Limits of Public Sphere in the Case of Minorities

 
Abstract: This article is an approach to minority media and its stereotypes due to cultural prejudice. It enlists some common recurrences in the minority public speech in the East European area, focussing on the Hungarian minority in Romania.

Keywords: Romania; Hungarian minority; minority media; stereotypes; prejudices

There are many theories about the so-called self-censorship in the case of minorities. The great majority of scholars studying this issue are reaching mainly the conclusion that the public sphere of different minorities is very often too conservative, this being in their view the main reason why different important topics are not presented by the media of the minority in question.

We can agree that this is a reality: minority media present mainly “the struggle of the minority against discrimination”, “the struggle of the minority for human, civic, social, educational and economic rights” and “the struggle of the minority for keeping alive its mother tongue, traditions and all those institutions which help maintain their diversity”.

The mass media written or broadcast by minorities are trying constantly not to approach issues which are considered by their public as endangering the fight for the mentioned rights. Sociologists and political analysts agree that the main reason of this behaviour is the fact that the public sphere of minority media is against approaching such “dangerous topics”.

For a proper scientific approach it is important to study the roots and the mechanisms of this behaviour, as well as the limits of the public sphere in the case of minorities and the ways to demolish these limits.

Prejudices, stereotypes and hate speech

We are well aware that especially in transitional periods – for example during the transition from communist regimes back to capitalism – media operate with stereotypes, clichés and prejudices. Mainly with such basic principals as love and hate.

In the countries of the Balkans the media were oriented – as everywhere else in the world – towards a specific audience and were therefore filled with all the preconceived ideas of their audience. Working with this kind of ideas, media and audience used to influence each other like “inter-connecting vessels”, one kept feeding the other and vice versa. This principle is also valid for the debates that are taking place between the media of the majority and the media of different minorities and in the case of the public speech of politicians and intellectuals belonging to these groups.

Which is this principle? It is very important to recognise that both sides – the majority and the minority – are operating with stereotypes and prejudices created through  history, already existing in the mind of their respective audience. Offering only chosen parts of the past and providing possibilities to prove whatever one wants to prove (from traditional hatred to territorial aspirations, from violence to the toleration of violence), the media promote divisions and individual concepts, and enforce myths and legends.

This mechanism is in the meantime fed by the public speech of those politicians – from both sides again – who try very hard to keep the aforementioned stereotypes and prejudices alive. Consequently, the public speech and especially the social, political or ethnical identity speech have become over these past few years the main place for the transmission of scientifically unfounded presumptions that are targeting the enforcement of stereotypes and clichés. This way the world is splitting into just two parts – “we” and “they”, and one of the consequences is the enforcement of an attitude, which expresses a great solidarity with all the members of a certain group and the rejection of everybody from outside of the group in question.

Behaviour of minority media

Because of the tensions created by the use of stereotypes, minorities are living in closed societies. They are in a certain way forced by the majority public speech to preserve this condition. The main reason why they do not want to demolish the boundaries of their society and to open it, is that the majority is not willing to accept the rights claimed by them, is not willing to enforce these rights with specific laws adopted by the parliament and to put the adopted laws and regulations freely into practice.

Subsequently, minority media are facing a great challenge. Editors are always trying to balance between the proper presentation of certain facts and the danger that the facts presented in an honest way will be turned against the minority in its fight for rights. This alternative is also the cause why the audience of minority media is a conservative one, unwilling to take any risks, often forcing the minority media not to talk about negative aspects and facts of the community.

Recent research made by the László Teleki Foundation from Budapest has shown that Hungarian audience in Romania is against the presentation of honest information on the internal problems that the traditional Hungarian churches or the Democratic Alliance of Hungarians in Romania (DAHR) are facing. The conclusion of the study was that for the Hungarian media in Romania there are several “unspeakable issues”. Two thirds of the questioned journalists stated that they were directly or indirectly threatened for the articles they had published or were planning to publish on these issues. They also stated that mainly politicians tried to influence their work, unlike in the case of the majority media in Hungary for example, where journalists are influenced mostly by actors of the economic sphere.

Hungarian journalists from Romania identified some of this “unspeakable issues” as being the question of autonomy, the inter-ethnic relations, the independence of Transylvania, the economic affairs of the leaders DAHR and the internal conflicts of the Hungarian churches. The majority of the questioned journalists said they were following those unwritten rules of the local Hungarian press, because they did not want to face any troubles, and they did not want to be blamed by the audience.

Nobody has pointed out yet what causes this type of behaviour. Nobody has yet studied carefully why the political pluralism of minorities is so difficult to be accepted by the members of these groups. The Hungarian minority communities living in different states of the region have solved this last dilemma in different ways. For example: within the DAHR there are several so-called platforms, constituted along different political orientations, but in Slovakia there are several political parties which joined the Party of Hungarian Coalition, one of the members of the Slovakian governmental coalition. The pattern is the same: the common “enemy” is forcing these structures with different political views to become parts of one organisation, and to accept only one agenda.

The minority media reflect the daily life and the facts according to this pattern, becoming instinctively manipulative. This character of the minority media is a consequence of the fortunate nature of those regulations, which would transform the community in an open society. According to these conditions, daily editorial work is becoming more or less a question of continuously balancing issues: the editor must decide if a specific item of information is helping or not the fight of the community for the acceptance, adoption and enforcement of its claimed rights. This is the main reason why the negative news of the minority group is not transmitted by their media.

The two levels of public speech

Based on this behaviour, the minority public sphere develops a two-level publicity. One is the “official” level, on which the media broadcast “positive” information (“The parliament has voted against the educational rights of the minorities”, “The mayor is not willing to put the local administration bill into practice, so he is not accepting bilingual signboards on the public institutions”, “At the meeting with the president, the leaders of the DAHR protested against the nationalist speech of the PM” aso.). The other is the “unofficial” level,  which broadcasts, almost exclusively orally,  “negative” information that is targeted only at the members of the minority (“There are Hungarians involved in different corruption cases in Bucharest”, “X. Y. could not account for the money received by the community from different Hungarian foundations”, “The Hungarian priest rented the properties of the church in his own interest” aso.).

The so-called historical Hungarian churches have played an important role in the development of the described conservative behaviour. According to their leaders, the presentation of the “negative” facts in the Hungarian media is unacceptable. Hungarian journalists doing this are immediately considered “bad Hunga-rians”, individuals who try to demolish the walls surrounding the community, who put the entire group in danger. Simply because the conservative leaders of different historical churches consider reporting about negative facts, about corrupted Hungarian politicians as being against the highest interest of the community, the minority media are very often impeached for exposing internal corruption, stealing from community funds and other crimes.

Based on these views, there are “strategies to protect the nation” and also “strategies to protect those who are protecting the nation”. And because Hungarian churches played an important role in preserving the mother tongue and the traditions during  communism, their impact on the audience of the Hungarian media is very high.

Of course these strategies are adopted immediately by the majority – the Hungarian majority in Hungary. It is interesting to note that the Hungarian media in Hungary also present mainly the “positive” information about the Hungarian minorities living abroad.

What can we do?

There are three actions we have to take. One is to intensify the dialogue between the majority and the minority public spheres by different methods, in order to demolish all prejudices and clichés. The second is that the majority public sphere has to explain as soon as possible the necessity of adopting all those laws and regulations that will have as an effect the opening of the closed minority communities. And the third: it is very important to continuously educate the journalists from both sides towards tolerance, towards rejection of hate speech, stereotypes and prejudices. This last question is a simple matter of transforming the East-European journalist into a really professional one.

Notes

1 Milica Pesic: Media in the Balkans. Paper presented at the Conference about the Media of the Balkan Countries. Varna, Bulgaria, May 15-17, 1998.

2 Marius Lazar: Aparitia şi transmiterea cliseelor si prejudecatilor interetnice de la o generatie la alta. In: Dialog Interetnic, Cluj, an. V., nr. 10(51), octombrie 1998, p. 2.

3 Tabutémák a romániai magyar sajtóban. Az RMDSZ és az egyház belsó ügyeit “nem illik” teregetni. In: Szabadság, 2001.08.01., p. 3.

4 Tibori Szabó Zoltán: A kisebbségi jogok és a nyilvánosság. In: A nyilvánosság rendszerváltása. Ed.: Vásárhelyi Mária, Halmai Gábor. Új Mandátum Könyvkiadó, Budapest, 1998, p. 58-61.

Adrian Majuru

Romanians and Hungarians

Legislation, everyday life and stereotypes in interwar Transilvania

One of the subjects that have been more or less adequately analized during the past few years, has been the relationship between  the Romanians majority and “the others”, different ethnic, confessional, cultural communities. The present approach is a complete compendium of this extremely complex and delicate subject. I have chosen this subject, based on the similitudes between the debates and projects undertaken today, and the analogous ones from the interwar years. In fact, we deal with the same process, only nuanced by its historic context.

My approach tries to make a trifold radiography: of the legislation, of the daily life and of the collective imagination. This three historic aspects combine in the following process: legislation, permanently connected to similar international models (by which it was, in fact, inspired) has been in perpetual discord with the local everyday life, which was fed by the local collective imaginary. The latter would eventually manifest itself as a final reaction of a particular local traditional background facing the modernization process triggered by the documents issued by the legislative power.

In the present treatise, I shall deal with these three components of the relationship between majority and minority, during the interwar period. Because Transylvanian space is a most frequently discussed subject, I shall pay special attention to it. The evolution of the minority / majority relationship depended basically on the barometric changes of the legislative point of view. The Romanians’ position (as they had finally united into a single national political structure, in 1918) concerning the minoritary communities beared the mark of the contrast between the European legislative model and the local background. The local tradition remained heavily indebted to the confluence between the Orient and Central Europe. This background was especially determinant for the Old Kingdom, as its institutional, cultural, political, behavior models were to be exported to, and cultivated in the new historic provinces that were interwoven to form, in 1918, Great Romania.

In spite of all this, the new Constitution adopted in 1923 took into consideration the new ethnical realities of Great Romania. In the case of the Old Kingdom, there had been just one major problem concerning the minorities, that of identity, rather than of ethnicity, that is the Jewish problem. Conversely, in Great Romania, the union of  provinces with very diverse ethnic demographics created a new configuration of identity for the minority and, at the same time, gave a new dimension to the minority/majority relationship. The new provinces, Transylvania,  Banat, Crişana, Bucovina and Bessarabia had strong minoritary communities that developped extremely dynamic cultural and confessional identitary complexes. After 1920, modern Romania could hardly be compared to the country it had been before the war.

Thus, the 1923 Constitution introduced  reference points similar to European ones concerning the situation of the minorities to the Romanian legislation. The constitutional document of Great Romania created harmony, from a legislative point of view, between the minority and the majority points of view, within the Romanian modern state. The constitutional reference points, taken from European models, stipulated the necessity of bestowing on the minorities all the rights of a Romanian citizen – that is, all the rights defined in the epoch. Thus, the March 1923 document aimed at becoming an instrument by which the rights and liberties of the minorities would be applied within different political, social, economical, cultural and imaginary realities, in a generally hostile milieu. From this point of view, the document was considered a successful project. I shall render herein the reference points concerning the minorities’ problems, in the larger context of Great Romania, present in the constitution in March, 1923:

“Title II: On the Rights of Romanians

A.5. Romanians, regardless of their ethnicity, native tongue or religion, enjoy the freedom of consciousness, education, press, meetings, association, and all liberties and rights established by law. (…).

A.7. Differences of faith, confession, ethnicity or language do not represent, in Romania, an obstruction to acquiring civil or political rights, or to exerting them.

A.8. All Romanians, regardless of language or religion, are equal according to the law, and obliged to contribute, with no exception, to public taxes and tasks. They alone are allowable in public, civil, military functions. (…).

A.22. The State warrants freedom and protection to all cults, as long as their practice does not run counter to the public order, morals and the organized law of the State. (…). The Romanian Orthodox Church, representing the religion of the Romanian majority, is the dominant Church in the Romanian state; the Greek-Catholic church has priority over the other cults. (…).

A.24. Education is free, within the conditions established by the special laws, as long as it is not contrary to the legislation and the public order. (…).

A.25. The Constitution warrants everyone the liberty to communicate or to publish ideas and opinions, by voice, by writing, or by the press. (…).

A.28. Romanians, regardless of their ethnicity, their language or religion, have the right to gather peacefully, without weapons (…) to deal with all sorts of matters; for these, no preliminary authorization is necessary. (…)

A.29. Romanians, regardless of their ethnicity, their language or their religion, have the right to associate, according to the laws that stipulate the exercise of this right. (1)

15 years later, the new Constitution of King Carol II, although it preserved the individual and collective liberties mentioned by the previous Constitution, set before all these a series of obligations for all Romanians, regardless of their ethnicity. The March 1938 Constitution, that grounded King Carol II’ regime of personal authority, restrained the collective and individual liberties stipulated by the previous Constitutional document dating from 1923.

The 1938 document offered Romania a basis of organization for the corporatist state where the collective interests prevailed over the individual ones, which were incorporated within those of the community and were supported as far as they corresponded to the communitarian interests. Here are some illustrative reference points excerpted from the Constitution of King Carol II.

“Title II. On the Romanians’ Duties:

A.4. All Romanians, regardless of their ethnicity and their religious faith, are obliged to consider the country as the highest aim in their lives, to sacrifice themselves in defending its integrity, independence and dignity; to contribute to its moral rising and its economic advancement; to faithfully fulfill the communitarian tasks imposed by law, to contribute, freely, in fulfilling the public tasks, without which the state cannot survive.

A.5. All Romanian citizens, regardless of their ethnicity and their religious faith, are equal according to the law and are obligated to respect and comply with the law. No one can consider oneself free from civil and military, public or private duties on the grounds of one’s religious faith or any other kind of faith. (…)

A.7. No Romanian is allowed to advocate, by speech or writing, changing the form of the State government, the distribution of private estates, the exemption from taxes, or the class struggle.

A.8. Priests of any rite or faith are forbidden to set their spiritual authority at the service of any political authority, either in the places destined to the cult, or outside them (…). Any political action on religious grounds or pretexts is forbidden. (…)

A.10. Romanians enjoy the freedom of consciousness, of work, of education, of the press, of congregation, association, and all the liberties deriving from these rights, in the conditions settled by law. (…)

A.19. The relationship between the State and various cults comprises the subject of special laws.” (2)

Armand Călinescu formulated an interesting definition of the regime of monarchical authority, and the first unique party in the Romanian modern history – The National Renaissance Front, established by royal decree on December 16, 1938:

“(…) What does the Front aim at achieving? It aims at re-establishing the rights of the State, its natural parts. (…). Elevating the idea of state, re-establishing it within its natural rights, means not only rebuilding its authority and prestige, but even more it means recognizing certain ideals that the State has the mission to re-formulate (…). The new State has to be a living center, an active (factor) surpassing the passivity of bygone times. (…). According to the Front, the individual should be subordinated to the State. Personal interests are not taken into consideration if they do not coincide with those of the collectivity, and do not aid them. (…).

Promoting the general interests of the collectivity – this is the N.R.F. main mission. (…) Being mainly a spiritual movement, it undertakes to give life a sense of moral value. (…) An important sector within the N.R.F. is held by the elites. These are designated by serious and objective criteria.” (3)

By belonging to the N.R.F., the minorities were to acquire – according to the official version – an optimal ground of cultural and identitary development. (4) Here is, for instance, a fragment that sustains the idea:

“(…) the Romanians have never been an exclusivist people. It has always been an honor for them to allow the free development of anyone, and to compete themselves, by their virtues and natural powers, in winning the place they deserve. Therefore, in the spirit of this tradition, the actual regime has undertaken to show its benevolence to the foreign elements, as long as they are sincerely integrated in the life of the State. At the same time, I consider it unnecessary to insist upon an elementary fact that, concerning these minorities, the only problems that arise are cultural and economical. There are not, and cannot be any territorial problems, in this respect. And I have the right to assert that these categories of citizens have never been treated as well by others as they have been by us.” (5)

The official politics of the corporatist state tended to make a homogenous society, reducing it to a monolithic collective mechanism that, in its turn, was meant to reduce the asperities of the relations between the majority and the minority.

Carol’s goal was to build a State policy and the project was to be fulfilled by propaganda and through some collective organizations of a corporatist type, such as the above-mentioned N.R.F.; the youth organization like “Straja Ţării” (The Guard of the Country), “Arcaşii şi Arcăşitele” (the Archers and the Archers Women) a.s.o. (6)

According to its theoreticians, the National Renaissance Front had to represent the collective interests of the Romanian nation, and reduce the asperities between Romanians and “the others”:

“(…) This corpus comprises the people as a whole, and promotes only communitarian needs in an atmosphere of national union. (…). Any claim, of a single individual, to speak for the people, is absurd. Any attempt at agitation, made by any person, represents an act of guilt. (…) Finally, it includes all ethnical minorities, integrated in the life of our State, where they can satisfy all their spiritual and material needs. (…). The N.R.F. is the means by which the Nation can express its thinking, and it is the reservoir out of which, by a rigorous selection of the elites, the leading elements of the country will be recruited.” (7)

The regime of King Carol II even founded a General Commissariat of the National Minorities, boasting of its unprecedented tolerance and its openness, concerning the minorities’ situation. (8)

The propagandistic praising of the King and his regime on the part of the leaders of ethnical communities completed the official relationship between the new regime and the minorities. (9)

Here are two of the “royal slogans” disseminated during the 30’s by the official propaganda:

“(…) Tolerance. We are a profoundly tolerant people. There are, in our society, like in other countries, anti-Semitic tensions, but the public spirit has never followed them and the government has refused them.” (June 11, 1930) or:

“I consider the minorities as Romanians, and as an integrated part of Romania. If they will be loyal citizens, they will be able to rely on Me.” (June 11, 1930). (10)

It becomes clear, from the text, that this was a monarchic attitude towards the minorities, rather than a public one; “they will be able to rely on Me, in respecting and legitimating their rights, only if they will be loyal citizens.”

On the other hand, other royal slogans opposed, by definition, the above-mentioned assertions:

“(…) Ethnicity:

The Romanians’ superiority over others is this, precisely: we are not formed of three offsprings, starting from the same root, but of a single body that can never be divided.” (January 24, 1934); or:

“Romaniansm:

By “Romanianism,” I intend to underline the latent virtues of this people in order to present it as one of the strongest nations in the world. This work is the credo of my life.” (June 8, 1936) (11)

From a constitutional and legislative point of view, the relationship between majority and minority in the Romanian modern state was similar to that existing everywhere in Europe. But it was indebted to the myth of “Great Romania” crystallized after 1848 and stressed after 1878. This has inserted in the Romanian imaginary – mainly in the Old Kingdom (1881-1918) – a monolithical image, transposed in the model of the centralized, national, unitary state. Its political realization in 1918 would strongly influence the relationship between the majority and the minority, especially in Transylvania, Banat and Bessarabia. (12)

Starting in 1919, the Romanian political universe diversified; the minorities founded  active political parties, such as those of the Hungarians, the Germans and the Jews. Of course, the political parties in the Kingdom – both old and new – had a more or less rigid attitude concerning the minorities’ problems. For instance, one of the most popular political parties during the 1919-1929 period, the People’s league, later the People’s Party (founded in December 1918, in Jassy, by the General Alexandru Averescu) expressed its position concerning the minorities very cuttingly.

The position of this party did not differ much from those of other interwar parties. Although between 1919-1930 it had an equidistant position, after 1930 the People’s Party would introduce the concept of “numerus clausus”, deploring the extremely reduced number of Romanians in the main towns of Ardeal and in some social structures in Transylvania. (13)

***

To better understand the Romanian realities, let us examine a complex document concerning the minorities’ problems in the interwar society. Thus, we shall also reach the everyday life. It is a report “concerning the rights of the religious minorities” in Romania writen by the “American Committee of the Rights of Religious Minorities”. (14)

The report impartially showed the great difference between the modern legislation at a European level and its weak representation in real life. In fact, the ethnic and religious minorities in Romania were facing serious problems, from the proliferation of antisemitic attacks, to the deficiencies of the educational system, that were depriving the minorities of the rights stipulated by the constitution. (15)

The Committee reported the persistence of intimidation campaigns, the intolerance, the incomplete application of the law of Romanian citizenship, the ‘black coats’ organization who opposed the impartial application of the constitutional stipulations, the untidiness concerning the recognition of confessional liberties, as, for instance, the case of the Baptist church in Transylvania.

As an argument, I shall choose to discuss the case of two unpublished documents concerning the situation of the Baptist and other minority confessions in Romania. Doctor Edgar Mullins, President of the “Southern Baptist Theological Seminary” Institute in Louisville (Louisiana), asserted that the Baptist’ situation was “worse then that of the Jews or the Unitarians. About their treatment, the non-conformists asserted that the Baptists prefer the Soviet Russia, ten times more than Romania. In Russia, Baptist missionaries can wander everywhere, distributing Bibles, and converting everyone willing to listen to them. The Soviet Government knows that the Baptist churches cannot be organized according to political aims.”

In turn, Doctor Frederick Griffin asserted, in a sermon delivered in the first Unitarian Church in Philadelphia, that “it is undeniable that the Lutheran Church suffers, like all the similar institutions, from the difficult financial situation in the Romanian state of today. The cause of the financial crisis of this church is not the State, which allots considerable sums to this church, much greater than those allotted by the Hungarian State. (…) The financial crisis of the Lutheran church of the Saxons in Transylvania is due to the fact that its authorities allow themselves a luxury no other church in Romania can afford. (…) The Bishopric does not content itself with the salaries received from the state, but offers its workers bonuses 2-3 times greater than the above-mentioned wages. The same thing happens with the priests. (…). These are, essentially, the causes of the financial crisis of the Lutheran Church of the Transylvanian Saxons, crisis of which, as we have said, the Romanian government cannot be made responsible”.

Beyond these impartial assertions, the author does not forget to mention “the oppressed populations in Tran-sylvania, whose country was taken by force, whose estates are confiscated, whose members are fleeced by the Romanian government and people, of their religious services and their rights established by the treatises”. (16)

All these were everyday realities that were strikingly different from the stipulations of the constitutional document promulgated in 1923. In this respect, the report of the American committee is illustrative in its details:

“(…) The Hungarian minorities in Romania enjoy the most complete protective measures, in concordance with the rights that were given them by the minorities’ treatise. (…). The Committee considers that there is a great difference between the Constitution of the country – liberal in many regards – and its application by office workers, a striking difference visible mostly in the border districts. (…). The attempt at “Romanianizing” the minorities by force and at destroying their confessional schools, (…) will cause Romania to lose the confidence of those nationalities that, in other conditions, might have been its friends. (…). The Committee draws attention to the way the Romanian authorities apply the law of citizenship. Undoubtedly, the fundamental right of citizenship is not offered to thousands and thousands of inhabitants justified at receiving it.

The minorities are thus refused, in an arbitrary way, that element of protection that each country owes to its population, and this despite all the solemn guarantees offered to the minorities. During the visit, the Committee has noticed the existence of horrid campaigns of intimidation and brutality against the Jewish citizens of the state, coming from a mixture of intolerance, arrogance and ignorant hatred. (…). According to us, some governmental office workers have made a great mistake in not allowing several thousands of people belonging to the minority groups, to maintain their ethnicity, and by regarding as Romanian those who use another native language (…). We draw the attention of the Government upon the situation of the Hungarian church of Lutheran rite, and we insistently require that it be granted a satisfactory legal situation. (…) Finally, the Committee has noticed the fact that in the adjoined territories there is a considerable contingent of educated citizens who could serve the state most profitably. At present, many of these citizens are in a desperate state because of what seems to be a calculated and determined effort of the majority to remove them from their official functions”. (17)

The preliminary report of the American Committee for the Religious Minorities’ Rights was completed with the data contained in de speech held by Mr. Lanthorp Howland, one of the Presidents of the Committee. According to the latter, “the Romanians’ intention to form a national middle class was feeding the anti-Semitic attacks. To underline the application of some laws on a different organic base, Lathorp Howland gave example of the case of the town of Cluj where, in 1917, the population was mainly Hungarian, and the University had been turned into a Romanian university. He also cited that of the Ukrainian minority which was situated, according to the interwar Romanian imaginary, in a dangerous synonymy with the Russians who, in their turn, were equal to Bolsheviks – the main enemy of the Romanian modern state.

Lathorp’s approach is completely placed under the idea of the disagreement between legislation and everyday life reality. His reference to the changes that had occurred in the Ardeal region after 1918 are very categorically against the administrative system of the Romanian government.

“(…) The Romanians wish to form a national middle class is, no doubt, worth encouraging. The middle class is formed, in Romania, by Jews. Thus, the problem consists in hindering the Jews’ access in schools, so that Romanians have all the opportunities. (…). The Ukrainians have been the most terrorized of all minorities. Every Russian is a Bolshevik, to the Romanian authorities. Of religious minorities, the Baptists suffer more than any other sect, because they are the only ones who, like the Adventists, have crossed the Carpathians (to make proselytism). (…) The buildings are requisitioned in haste and turned into Romanian schools. The exams are held with Romanian teachers, and the children are asked all sorts of unfair questions, so they can be rejected”. (18)

Some objections were formulated when John Howland Lathorp delivered this lecture. A certain A. I. Popescu invoked the principle – still frequently in use today – according to which the misunderstanding of the Romanian case is due to the remote position of our country, compared to the European decision centers. Thus, the myth of the Romanian outskirts within the European space led, inevitably, to the ignorance of the Romanian realities. The author asserted that, in order to understand “the minorities’ situation in our country,” several things had to be made clear, among which one was essential: “Today’s minorities were yesterday oppressors of today’s majority. Subconsciously – I am not saying consciously,– they claim not their treatment as minorities, but their dominant situation from before the war.”

We deal with a kind of approach that does not completely deny the opponents’ assertions, but tries to de-construct their image considered distorted because of their misunderstanding the real situation. His arguments are somewhere at the border between a current propagandistic approach and the real problems:

“Mr. A. I. Popescu has objected that the lecturer did not really consider the truly liberal opinion in Romania. (…) Romania,  a remote and unknown country, has been attacked “in toto” for every repressable fact due to a section of the country alone, a section that, unfortunately, has its counterpart in every country (…). To understand the situation of the minorities in our country, several things should be considered, without which a rightful perspective cannot be maintained in judging the situation. There is, first of all, a matter of psychology. (…) You know very well that the Hungarian State instituted, once, the oppression, the “dis-nationalization” and the conversion to other religions of the Romanian majority. (…) We have proportionally shared these properties, in regards to the ethnic minority, so that neither the minorities’ churches, nor the minorities’ schools are as preponderent as they were before the war. (…) It would be ridiculous for you to believe that we – the majority native people of this country – could tolerate such an unfair distribution of goods in favour of some minority languages or cults. (…) I wonder how come your heart did not soften at all, before the war, at the situation of the majority, like you now pity  the “oppressed” minority? Why don’t you send identical commissions of inquiry in Hungaria, Yougoslavia a.s.o.? (…) We do not want to have in the 20th century the religious fights that we avoided in the Middle Ages. (…) If you will understand and respect our point of view, we are ready to discuss with you, point by point, everything that you have estimated as an “injustice”, in your report. And I assure you that we, too, understand those who understand us”. (19)

The minorities’ problem was at the heart of many analyses that sought fair solutions. One such analysis was elaborated in 1930 by the publisher Aurel Ciato, and presented by radio at Lugoj, Timişoara and Cluj, some Transylvanian towns. Aurel Ciato’s project mainly had in view the conflict between Romanians and Hungarians”. (20)

The author insisted on the fact that there had never been conflicts between Romanians and Germans, invoking Daniel Roth’s words from 1848. The latter had underlined the fact that both collectivities had been confronted with “the source of misfortunes” coming from the part of the Hungarians.

Aurel Ciato’s programme in five points was meant to solve the divergencies between Romanians and Hungarians, although it was clearly built to strengthen the Romanian element, mainly in Transylvania. The five clauses contain the following problems.

All those orders that have given priviledges to one nationality or another, unjustly, illegally or to the detriment of the Romanian interests will be annulled;

The Romanians in these territories will be integrally re-entitled to their own rights and, with that end in view, the propor-tionally corrective factor shall be used, according to which – by their number and within the state general interests – the sons of different nationalities will be appointed to public offices and the state benefits will be shared in the same proportions;

At the same time, the Romanian state will have to make up for what was committed or reglected in the past concerning the Romanians, from a cultural and economic point of view. (…);

Another duty of the state will be to help all Romanians who, forced by circumstances, (…) became estranged (…) from their nationality;

The state will take care to further the most suitable means to cultivate the Romanian language”. (21)

Towards the end, the author stresses the common possibilities of the majority and the minority to solve the breaks between them, in order “to satisfy all expectations and, at the same time, to give due content to the Romanian state.” The fundamental problem of the modern, unitary Romanian state was none other than “the re-establishment of the Romanian nation, according to the new conditions and social structure offered by these conditions.”

Aurel Ciato wished Great Romania to solve, as efficiently as possible, the Hungarian problem based upon the “dissensions between Romanians and Hungarians”’ so that it could become “the coorder of a new type of state in central Europe.” How was this ideal to be reached? The author developed a detailed programme according to which the minorities’ rights had to become concordant with “the real conditions of life in Romania and its population.” (22)

The programme in five points made the following references to the minorities’ problems:

We shall rigourously observe that the fair interests and the rightful feeling of the population should not be harmed in any way. (…) The innovations to come should be a progression, an advantage, an amplification and a simplification, compared to the past.

We shall have in view that the general feelings (…) of our statesmen should not be guided by the invention of regionalism, but by the sincere and firm intention to introduce an ideal government that would consolidate the voluntary joining of the solitary parts to the whole in which they are called to take part.

Further on, we shall follow the principle  of easing the minorities’ participation in the life of the state, giving them the possibility to acquire public functions and employing them as an active personnel of the Romanian State (…).

The nationalities will then be attracted by our various preocupations, having thus involved all their interests in the future and the prosperity of our country.

We shall even allow the co-habiting nationalities that were colonized here to play a civilizing part, consenting to their historic mission and, consequently involving them in loyally fulfilling their mission, fair-minded and patriotically – and their great economical and industrial entreprizes will be protected by the state.”

Regarding the use of native languages in the interwar Romanian everyday structures, Aurel Ciato offered the following solution:

“(…) The use of the minorities’ languages in our country will be ensured individually for each citizen, within the limits, in all functions and services where the need will occur. There would be two main sections in this respect:

Measures will be taken that each official worker has the possibility to learn, as quickly and accurately as possible, the official language of the state;

Each official worker will be obliged to know perfectly, besides the state language, the language of the majority population in his region.” (23)

The problem of the minorities –  analysed variably in the interwar Romania – was, in fact,  a European problem. From this point of view, Iuliu Maniu tried an approach concerning the matter in his article “Are minorities still an obstacle to the peace of Europe?”

Iuliu Maniu stressed the improvement of the Transylvanian minorities’ general situation and, finally, he expounded an interesting theory. According to him, “if Ancient Hungary would be restored tomorrow, within its former frontiers, it would not last one single day if universal suffrage would be established and its population would be given the right to vote as they chose.”

According to Iuliu Maniu, his government had respected the two fundamental directions of the minority communities’ liberties. These two directions were:

“Full national freedom for all peoples who live on our territory. Each people should get schooling, independent administration, and the possibility to judge in its own language the persons of its own race;

Full equality and autonomy for all religious groups in the State.” (24)

On the other hand, the Ardealul daily news-paper  underlined in the article entitled “The Hungarian minority in Transylvania” the generally positive status enjoyed by the Hungarian minority in Transylvania. Thus, “all the institutions the Hungarians had had in Transylvania, before the union, had not only remained intact, (…) but also acquired a new impetus (…)” and confessional freedom is a reality.

The constitutional liberties and rights were represented both in teaching, as in what concerned the Hungarian language publications. Last but not least, the Hungarian minority – not the only one in Transylvania – actively participated in the democratic exercise, with a disciplined electorate, while the Romanian population and a large portion of the Hungarians in Transylvania did not have this right before the war. We present, further on, some reference points issued by this journal:

“(…) Unlike the Hungarian state that has not sustained any Romanian school in Transylvania, the Romanian state has not only authorized the Hungarian schools to function, supported by churches, (…) but has also founded, on its account, primary and secondary schools of Hungarian language. In 1930, in Transylvania, there were 1362 primary schools and 57 Hungarian secondary schools, of which 483 primary schools and 5 secondary schools were financed by the state for 1,353,000 Hungarians (…). In 1918, there were hardly, in Transylvania, 4-5 Hungarian daily newspapers; in 1928, their number was 46. In 1928, 577 Hungarian periodicals were published. In 1913, were published 77 different Hungarian books ; in 1926, 400. (…). By the agrarian reform, 45,628 Hungarian peasants were provided with the assistance they needed for their existence, a necessity the Hungarian state had never thought of.

(…) In 1910, the Hungarian Parliament had 286 members, but only 5 Romanian deputies, who represented 3 million Romanians. After the union, 1,351,000 Hungarians were  represented, in the Romanian legislative structures, by 14 deputies and 12 senators, in 1926, and in 1928, by 16 deputies and 6 senators. (…).” (25)

In the interwar Romanian imagination, the feeling of being under seige the Romanian population had had before the war, amplified. The perpetuation of this feeling, in spite of the projects and debates on the theme of the minorities’ problems, has determined the diversification and the exacerbation of the process of Romanianizing the historic provinces, often compared to a process of historic recuperation. (26)

On the other hand, the Romanians in the historic provinces – mainly those in Transylvania – were going through a crisis of identity determined mostly by the irreversible fenomenon of implementing the institutional models of the Old Kingdom in the whole spectre of the daily life in Ardeal, which were more evolved from a cultural, social and economic point of view.

The way of thinking of the Romanians in Ardeal has remained, though, strongly rooted in the world before the war for a long time. The dissolution of the Diligent Counsel, in April 1920, has caused discontentment in Transylvania among the minority as well as among the Romanians who lived with the real feeling of their high position in the Ardeal province, compared to the Old Kingdom.

The image of the foreigner in the traditional Romanian culture can also be seen, with its “cliches”, in the public, private, official and confidential attitudes of Romanians confronted with “the other”. Although Romanians have always co-habited with foreigners and have been connected to many nations, it seems that none of these has ever complied with their expectancies, as “there is no nation Romanians would have come in contact with, that they would not have derided. For every foreigner they had to deal with, Romanians have discovered a negative attribute in comparison with themselves so that “there is no nation they could think of as just, good, honest.” Among the attributes Romanians have bestowed on “the others” in time, we find out that, “the Germans are uggly as hell”, the French enjoy the same “flattering” qualification, the Jews are stingy, the Greeks are scabby goats, the Germans are stupid, the Bulgarians are “with leek”, and we would never end if we tried to list everything uttered against foreigners.” (27)

The Szeckler painter Barabas Miklos mentions the fact that the Bucharestans called the Germans “drunkards”, and they even call one another “German drunkards”, while disputing. (28) The reticence, the skepticism, even the opposition against foreigners, against “the other”, can also be noticed in the conflict between formal and fundamental, or between “Europeanization” and traditionalism, between the new and the old. The confrontation continues, and is extremely complex, even today. (29)

Somehow, the fury of Emil Cioran and his “furious generation” is explainable; it was fed by the sentiment of an acute lack of support and understanding. A new image of the relationship between minority and majority was, thus, born, in the confrontation between those who struggled, who had ideals, clearly defined aims, on one hand, and the others, the apathetic, the indifferent ones. 30)

Great Romania was a complex world that made great efforts to define itself in order to achieve fulfillment. The minorities’ problem was one of the essential points in this process.

The present approach has tried to open up a perspective based upon the cleavage between the modernization process undergone by the Romanian society – a process in full development during the interwar period – and the Romanian social corpus that was hostile to the full achievement of such a process. This confrontation between the new and the old can also be noticed in the analyses and the orientations regarding the solution of the minorities’ problem. Frequently, the above-mentioned confrontation was corroborated with the identity problem generated by the violent replacement of the old world with a totally different one after the war.

NOTES:

1. “The New Constitution voted by the Constituant National Assembly, in the assemblies of March 26, 27, 1923”, Scrisul Românesc, Craiova, 1923, pp. 1-11.

2. The National History Archives, Bucharest, The Royal House Fund, King Carol II, Personals, dossier no. 33, 1938

3. “The law for the foundation of the political corpus of the NRF, from December 16, 1938, and its functioning regulations, January 5, 1939”. The Juridic library, directed by Mr. I. Lugoşianu, editura Ziarului Universul, 1939, Preface by Armand Călinescu, pp. 9-11.

4. “(…) We called, and received in the RNF numerous ethnical co-habitating minorities. This should not be a surprising fact, but it is also meant to illustrate the political conception and the typical spirit of the Romanians.” (ibidem, p. 7)

5. Armand Călinescu, “România Renaşterii”, discourse held in the Deputies’ Assembly, on June 28, 1938.

6. “The law for the foundation of the political corpus of the NRF, December 16, 1938, and its functioning regulations, January 5, 1939”, p. 6.

7. Armand Călinescu, “Noul Regim…”, pp. 127-128.

8. The official position of the regime of personal authority of King Carol II regarding the minorities was often published in epoch journals. I reproduce below a sample:

“The legislative dispositions taken by the Romanian government to regulate the situation of ethnic minorities within the new Romanian state are bound to give full satisfaction both to the minority elements, as to the majority population. Indeed, by the norms prepared and carried out by the government, the minorities are warranted  the rights they could aspire at, in their double quality of sons of the nations with a solid cultural and religious distinct individuality, and of loyal citizens of the state. (…) The creation of the General Commisariat of the Minorities, depending on the Presidency of the Counsel, is stipulated by the Constitution of February. The Commissariat for Minorities will have in charge – besides the past attributions of the director of minorities in the ministry of Cults, – some special attributes: to supervise the application of the legal dispositions concerning the minorities; to inform the competent authorities, in case of need; to ensure the correct and fair appliance of the above-mentioned legislative and administrative dispositions; finally, to study the diverse problems concerning the life of the state minorities, suggesting the suitable solutions to the competent forums. (…) Romanian minority citizens are free to use their native language in matters of religion, press, personal and commercial relationship, as well as in their authorized reunions and  meetings, according to the law, and according to the basic legislation approved by the competent forum. Minority citizens have the right to create, possess and survey, on their account, charity, religious or social institutions, as well as schools and any other educational institutions, with the right to use their own native language and perform their cults undisturbed. (…) There will be ensured proper facilities so that they can use their native languages within the local law instances, and in localities where a great part of the population is formed by minority citizens. (…) Regarding public education in localities inhabited mostly by minority citizens, the Romanian government give children of these minorities the possibility to be instructed in their own language, within the state primary schools. (…)”, (România, August 11, 1938, year I, no. 71, p. 7, “The Minorities’ Rights in Romania”)

9. I present below some fragments relevant in this respect:

“Blessed be the Lord as, (…), under the wise protection of your Majesty, we can achieve the work of love of Christ, to the benefit of the country and the praise of the Lord.” (Vasarhely, Reformed Bishop, “Royal Generosity for the Minoritary Cults”, România, June 8, 1940, year III, no.728, p. 9)

“(…) Blessed country, happy people, whose destinies are lead with so much fatherly love, with so deep wisdom and knowledge (…)”, (Alfred Alessandrescu, ibidem, p. 15)

10. Dan Smântânescu, Royal Slogans, Bucharest, 1940.

11. Ibidem.

12. “(…) The minority population of Transylvania saw with suspicion the “cultural offensive” of the central government, mainly the nationalization of the Hungarian and German schools. The Hungarians who could not accept the transition from their status of dominant nation to that of a subordinate one, would not resign themselves with the actual existence of a Romanian state on a territory that had belonged to Hungary for such a long time. In 1919, they still hoped in a diplomatic agreement that would annulate the Romanian national revolution. While waiting, they had withdrawn in enclaves of cultural autonomy.” Irina Livezeanu, Culture and Nationalism in Great Romania, 1918-1930, Humanitas, Bucharest, 1998, chapter “The Minorities on the Defensive”, pp. 212-214.

13. See Îndreptarea, year XX, no. 1, January 3, 1938, “The People’s Party and the Minorities’ Problem”.

14. The American Committee on the Rights of Religious Minorities, preliminary report concerning the religious minority rights. Report signed by: Dr. Henry A. Atkinson, general secretary of the Church union for peace, and secretary of the Reverend RA. Mc Gowan Commission, of the Social Action Department of the National Catholic Conference, Reverend John Howland Lathorp, priest of the Unitarian Church in Brooklyn, (…), Reverend Dr. Graham C. Hunter (…) and Jules Jezequel, representative in Paris of the Churches’ Union for Peace. The National Archives in Bucharest, the Fund of the Ministry of National Propaganda, dossier 18, 1927-1928.

15. “(…) The minority teachers wanted to have their own teachers’ organizations. The reformed teachers from the Baia Mare diocese, and the Roman-Catholic ones in Oradea had asked permission to establish their own associations, but were turned down, although the Romanian teachers had had their own associations, during the Hungarian administration. (…)

The Romanian government went up to closing the confessional schools that were called “counter-schools”, institutions that, according to the Romanians, had been established by the Reformed Church only to oppose the new Romanian government, and to employ the Hungarian teachers who had refused to make their oaths to the Romanian administration, being, thus, dismissed.” (Irina Livezeanu, op. cit., p. 213-219).

16. Dr. Edgar Mullins, President of the “Southern Baptist Theological Seminary” Institute in Louisville, and Dr. Frederick R. Griffin-preach, Conference delivered at the “First Unitary Church in Philadelphia; apud the Record newspaper, the National History Archives in Bucharest, the  Fund of the National Propaganda, dossier no. 5

17. Ibidem.

18. Notes taken at the Conference of Mr. John Howland Lathorp, held at the Neighborhood Club, 104 Clark Street, Brooklyn Heights, on December 14, 1927; the Fund of the Ministry of the National Propaganda, dossier no 18, 1927-1928.

19. Ibidem.

20. The National Archives in Bucharest, the Fund of the Ministry of National Propaganda, dossier 125, 1928-1941, The Minoritary Problem. With a preface explaining the dispute between Hungarians and Romanians, conference held in Lugoj, Timişoara and Cluj, by Aurel Ciato, publicist, Cluj, 1930.

21. Ibidem.

22. “(…) We shall unconditionally have in view our minorities, and we shall follow the example of America, that has managed to create that blend of immigrants of various nations into a single nation, changing the civilization accumulated there into a special American culture, allowing, at the same time, all nationalities to preserve their distinct mother language.” (Ibidem, p. 54)

23. Ibidem, pp. 56-63.

24. The article of His Excellency Mr. Iuliu Maniu, Prime Minister of Romania, the National Archives of Bucharest, The Fund of the Ministry of National Propaganda, dossier no. 8.

25. The National History Archives in Bucharest, the Vasile Stoica Fund, dossier 168, sequence from Ardealul, “The Hungarian Minority in Transylvania”.

26. “(…) The Transylvanian purists saw the meanness, the lack of discipline and the mizery of bureaucracy, as a burden of the Balcanic Romania, refusing settle down to it (…) it can be felt, yet, that the political leaders of the Ardeal region restlessly waited for the moment when the kingdom would catch up with the more civilized Transylvania. (…) Accustomed with its own political life, different than the one of the rest of Romania, by virtue of its intelectual culture, of its habits and its economical interests, the Ardeal region waited for a special treatment from the part of the Old Kingdom. (…) The dissatisfaction was led by the continous state of siege-intensified, by the arrests, the numerous expulsions, and by the closing of many schools where the personnel had refused to make their oath to the state. Finally, the living had become more and more expensive, as a consequense of the onerouse affairs concluded by the merchants coming to Transylvania from Bucharest.” (Irina Livezeanu, op. cit., p. 163, 194)

27. Andrei Oişteanu, “The Image of the Foreigner in the Traditional Romanian Culture”, “22”, no. 23, p. 12.

28. Andrei Verres, “Painter Barabas and the Romanians”, the Romanian Academy, Memoirs of the Literary Section, series III, vol. IV, MEM 8, Cultura Naţională, Bucharest, 1930, p. 381.

29. Adrian Marino, For Europe. The Integration of Romania. Cultural and Idelogical Aspects, Polirom, Yassy, 1995.

30. The theme is extremely vast from a bibliographical point of view. In sustaining it, I have selected two fragments from a diary and an interwar novel:

“(…) These people know not to behave themselves, to respect one another or their superiors (…). When I return from abroad, I am impressed by the beggars in the streets, the gipsies, the Gipsy quarters, by the lack of urbanity from the part of the inhabitants. (…). I am irritated with the poverty of those who live in towns, of the many, of the peasants, by the lack of hygiene, of civilization, despite all the qualities of our people.” Petru Comarnescu, Diary, 1931-1937, The European Institute, Yassy, 1994, p. 61.

“(…) hygiene, sweet air, courage – this is what I need, this is what we, the young ones, need. (…) other towns, other generations, other men – that is what we need. If we could pull down the whole Bucharest, and if I only could build instead a city of the sun, a young city, white, virily, pure! A town without procurers, without old people – mostly without old people. Where are the old, there are rancour, venom, bitterness, cowardice, immorality. Only the children and the old are vicious, only they can practice the incest, for instance. (…). Health, courage, virility – instead of vice and cowardice!” Mircea Eliade, The Return From Heavens, Rum Irina, Bucharest, 1992, p. 171.

Stefan Borbély

McCarthysmul

Abstract: This article analyzes the institutional and psychological dimensions of the American anticommunist hysteria of the fifties, embodied by HUAC (House Unamerican Activities Comitee) and by the McCarthysm.

Keywords: American anticommunism; post-war social mentality; counter-culture

Summary:In the previous issue of this journal, I analyzed the evolution of the American Cold War psyche as related to the “imaginary war” concept launched by Mary Kaldor in her The Imaginary War. Understanding East-West Conflict (Basic Blackwell, Oxford, 1990), who asserts that the climate of social stress and insecurity generated by the Cold War belligerency in the fifties was used to rearrange inner social and political values in post-war countries from Europe and Americas the threat psychosis generated by the image of the enemy – the communist system in this peculiar case – allowed Western governments to impose institutional and political restraints which were actually incompatible with the free functioning of a democratic society. My former paper insisted, in this respect, on the similarities between the Red Scare of 1919-20 in America, and the anticommunist purge of 1947-55, inspired by the “Iron Curtain” ideology launched by Winston Churchill in 1946 and by George F. Kennan’s “containment” doctrine, through his famous “Long Telegram” sent to the American administration from Moscow (February 22, 1946) and through his subsequent essay, The Sources of Soviet Conduct, published in Foreign Affairs in July 1947, under the mysterious signature of “Mr. X.” The present paper analyzes the institutional and psychological dimensions of the American anticommunist hysteria of the fifties, embodied by the HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee), and by the so-called “McCarthyism”: Senator Joseph McCarthy’s “witch hunt” against communist subversion in America and the hearings of the Permanent Investigations Subcommittee of the Senate Government Operations Committee. The paper takes up Christopher Lasch’s term of ‘vigilantism”, coined in The Cultural Cold War: A Short History of The Congress for Cultural Freedom (in vol. Towards a New Past: Dissenting Essays in American History. Edited by Barton J. Bernstein, Pantheon Books, New York, 1968), in order to suggest that the American anticommunist hysteria of the fifties covers – as Stephen Whitfield put it in The Culture of the Cold War (Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1991) – a deep social post-war insecurity, marked by profound generational misunderstandings, by diffuse social mysticism and by a high quota of mental illness. The paper ends by analysing Fredric Wertham’s Seduction of the Innocent (1954), in order to show that the newly opened gap between the adult culture and the teen subculture – indicted by Dr. Wertham for turning little children into violent ‘monsters” – sets the grounds for the upcoming counter-culture of the sixties, which proves to be an open anti-political reaction against the hyper-politicised social attitudes of the fifties.

   Cititorul este rugat sa citeasca acest eseu in prelungirea celui despre Razboiul imaginar, publicat in numarul anterior al Caietelelor Echinox (pp. 138-154). Pornind de la o definitie lansata de catre Mary Kaldor, in The Imaginary War. Understanding the East-West Conflict (Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1990), defineam razboiul imaginar ca pe o “tehnologie disciplinara” – cu o sintagma preluata de la Michel Foucault – , care ’exprima si legitimeaza relatiile de putere din lumea moderna’. Finalitatea razboiului imaginar – concluzionam cu acest prilej, tot pe urmele lui Mary Kaldor – “este aceea de a ’mentine coeziunea sociala’ interna a societatilor implicate in conflict – cele doua, opozitive, fiind, desigur, cea comunista si cea capitalista, occidentala -, scopul fiind domestic, nu indreptat in afara.”

   Astfel, teza prin prisma careia mi-am redactat eseul anterior pornea de la ideea – de asemenea legitimata de catre foarte supla exegeza moderna a Razboiului Rece – ca blocurile ideologice aflate in conflict s-au folosit de conjunctura generala si de climatul de beligeranta iminenta intretinut de catre Razboiul Rece pentru a-si rezolva unele probleme sociopolitice si economice interne, pe care ar fi fost mai dificil sa le impuna in afara climatului de amenintare – intretinut scrupulos – de catre dihotomia beligeranta a timpului. Pentru partea americana – cea care ne va interesa si in eseul care urmeaza, dedicat McCarthysmului -, citam in eseul anterior o opinie a lui Richard Alan Schwartz, autorul unui foarte bine documentat The Cold War Reference Guide (McFarland & Co. Inc. Publishers, Jefferson, N.C, and London, 1997), potrivit careia “spaima rosie” a perioadei de dupa incheierea celui de-al doilea razboi mondial – modelata dupa The Red Scare a anilor 1919-1920 – “a introdus in societatea americana sugestia de frica sociala”, pe vremea Spaimei Rosii “libertatea de exprimare, activismul politic si presa (fiind) atacate si restrictionate mai mult decat oricand in timpurile de pace ale istoriei americane”. Precizam, de asemenea, “un detaliu institutional tulburator”, si anume ca “in 1950 – deci inainte de isteria “vanatorii de vrajitoare”, lansata de catre senatorul Joseph McCarthy –, Actul de Securitate Interna McCarran (The McCarran Internal Security Act) punea bazele unor tabere de concentrare pentru comunisti in Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, Arizona si California, care, desi construite, nu au fost niciodata folosite.”

   Pentru a intelege ce anume a declansat aceste gesturi extremiste, recurgem la doua seturi de argumente, cu care intram, de fapt, in economia demonstrativa a eseului nostru de acum. Primul set l-am creionat si in Razboiul imaginar, el vizand teama unor personalitati de pe palierul de decizie al Casei Albe si al institutiilor colaterale, care o deservesc, privind intrarea societatii americane, in perioada imediat urmatoare euforiei castigarii celui de-al doilea razboi mondial, in zodia unei iresponsabilitati politice si patriotice exprimate prin hedonism si consumism. Citam, in textul anterior, cartea War or Peace, din 1950, a viitorului Secretar de Stat John Foster Dulles (fratele lui Allen Dulles, seful CIA[1]), “in care el vorbeste despre o America slabita, debilitatea fiind cauzata de o viata concentrata in exces pe cantecul de sirena parsiva al valorilor materiale, consumiste.” John Foster Dulles nu e singurul care sa se teama de un asemenea glisaj spre consumism si hedonism, care putea slabi vigilenta politica si patriotica a societatii americane: teama apare in “doctrina Kennan” (George F. Kennan, eminenta cenusie a regimului Truman, e autorul Telegramei lungi si al celebrului articol The Sources of Soviet Conduct, semnat Mister X, publicat in numarul pe iulie 1947 al revistei Foreign Affairs) si intr-un raport confidential din 7 septembrie 1945, care a circulat numai pe coridoarele Casei Albe,  prin care secretarul de stat Henry L. Stimson “denunta ’spiritul public de hedonism si iresponsabilitate’ al americanilor de rand, care se cere a fi contracarat, daca America doreste sa fie pregatita sa faca fata noilor imperative politice si ideologice ale momentului. ”Statele Unite sunt percepute – scrie analistul in nota sa – ca o tara frivola, egoista, iubitoare de placere, care nu ia in serios sarcina trairii intr-o ordine internationala dura.”

   Al doilea set de argumente ia in considerare o sinusoidala specifica din evolutia postbelica a societatii americane, pornind tot de la constanta de atitudine pe care o reprezinta hedonismul si consumismul. Ecuatia demonstreaza ca ori de cate ori consumismul si hedonismul american au atins un punct amplitudinar, a intervenit din umbra un “eveniment” corectiv, menit sa reintroduca lucrurile in albia fireasca a patriotismului si responsabilitatii. Istoria a fost folosita, instrumentalizata – dupa logica acestei ecuatii destul de ciudate -, pentru a sanctiona propensiunea fireasca a americanilor pentru consumism si hedonism. Secventele diacronice mai importante ale acestei evolutii sincopate sunt urmatoarele: 1. 1945-55 (aproximativ), in care propensiunea materialista excesiva a fost intrerupta de isteria “vanatorii de vrajitoare” lansata de catre HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee) si de catre Senatorul McCarthys 2. euforia dezlantuita a anului 1968 (anul de apogeu al contraculturii, al miscarii hippy, al amorului liber si al halucinogenelor), sanctionata brutal de asasinarea, in acelasi an, al reverendului Martin Luther King si a candidatului la presedintie Robert Kennedy, care, dupa toate probabilitatile, ar fi castigat alegerile pentru mandatul prezidential viitors 3. anii ’70, marcati de Razboiul din Vietnam si de criza ostatecilor din Irans 4. secventa lunga de prosperitate crescanda a anilor ’80-’90, cu cel mai bun presedinte de care a dispus America dupa 1945 (Ronald Reagan) si cu disparitia blocului sovietic din 1991, euforia invingatorului in marea competitie istorica mondiala fiind intrerupta brutal de atacurile asupra celor doua turnuri ale World Trade Center si asupra Pentagonului, din 11 septembrie 2001. Sinusoidala aceasta mai confirma si faptul ca decisive pentru reesalonarea mentalitatii publice americane sunt doar evenimentele cu implicatii interne directe, nu si cele care, desi “fac istorie” , iradiaza cu preponderenta in exterior. De pilda, primului presedinte Bush (tatal celui actual), cu merite istorice, alaturi de Mihai Gorbaciov, in deconstruirea Razboiului Rece si a fostului bloc politic si ideologic sovietic, i s-a refuzat pe nedrept cel de-al doilea mandat prezidential in 1992, in ciuda unei prestante internationale remarcabile.

Aceeasi sinusoidala mai explica un anumit detaliu, si anume ca intreaga miscare contraculturala, naturista, anistoricizanta si antipolitica a anilor ’60, cu un punct de culminatie in 1968, reprezinta un reflex direct al anxietatii publice si al presiunii de politizare excesiva a vietii de zi cu zi, duse pana la exacerbare de care Senatorul Joseph McCarthy, de catre isteria vigilenta pe care acesta a intretinut-o, alaturi de HUAC si de alte institutii nationale si statale, carora li se adauga coercitia impusa de asentimentul public. Unei constrangeri de tip sistemic, cu o tenta puternic centralizata, adolescentii americani ai anilor ’60 i-au raspuns printr-un radicalism asistemic – teza care ne duce, de altfel, in miezul consideratiilor care urmeaza.

McCarthy

Joseph McCarthy (14 nov. 1908 – 2 mai 1957) a fost crescut in Wisconsin, la ferma de pasari a tatalui sau. Viitorul senator isi intrerupe studiile la 14 ani, reluandu-le la 20, cand termina liceul, optand apoi pentru sectia de drept a Universitatii Marquette, de unde intra in magistratura in statul de origine (cf. Thomas S. Arms: Encyclopedia of the Cold War. Facts On File, 1994, pp. 388-390 – randurile de mai jos sintetizeaza, cu exceptia insertiilor, informatiile furnizate in aceasta enciclopedie). in 1942, Joseph McCarthy se ofera ca voluntar in marina, fiind trimis in Pacificul de Sud, ca ofiter de contraspionaj, de unde candideaza, fara succes, pentru Senat in 1944, ca republican, fiind ales cu doi ani mai tarziu.

Cariera sa publica debordanta incepe in februarie 1950, la Wheeling (Virginia de Vest), cand dezvaluie ca este in posesia unei liste de 205 de personalitati “subversive”, “comuniste”, angajate in institutii aflate pe palierul de varf al organismelor decizionale americane (Departamentul de Stat, Casa Alba, Congresul etc.). Comisia pentru Relatii Externe al Senatului, senatul fiind dominat, la vremea respectiva, de catre democrati, infiinteaza o subcomisie pentru investigarea acuzelor si care decide, in iulie 1950, ca ele sunt nefondate.

Intervine insa frecusul politic inerent, de partid, din Senat, minoritatea republicana acuzand majoritatea democrata de escamotarea adevarului. incurajat de micul succes al primei “vanatori de vrajitoare” si de asentimentul publicului (articulat pe fondul psihozei anticomuniste specifice “doctrinei Kennan”, discutata in eseul precedent), McCarthy “urca stacheta”, acuzandu-l de traadare, in iunie 1951, pe George C. Marshall, pe atunci ministru al apararii. Ca raspuns, Senatorul William Benton propune demararea unei anchete privind cruciadele Senatorului McCarthy, indrazneala pentru care se alege cu o incriminanta eticheta de “comunist”, replica lui McCarthy fiind atat de dura, incat teama de stigmatizarea purpurie patrunde insidios in toate institutiile de varf ale administratiei americane. Nici Casa Alba nu este exceptata, turnirurile declarative ale acesteia cu McCarthy fiind mai degraba prudente, decat ferme, net opozitive.

Rostogolirea bulgarelui de zapada incepuse si va fi dificil de oprit, fiindca, dupa 1952, cand McCarthy isi reconfirma electoral locul in Senat, el isi asuma functia de presedinte al Subcomisiei de investigatii permanente a Senatului (Permanent Investigations Subcommittee), declansand un atac devastator asupra lui Charles E. Bohlen, propus de catre presedintele Dwight Eisenhower pentru functia de ambasador in Uniunea Sovietica. Presedintele isi impune in cele din urma candidatul, dar evita confruntarea directa cu McCarthy, circumspectie care va da nastere, ulterior, unei exegeze politice cu pareri impartite: unii analisti considera si azi ca Presedintele a procedat corect, nedorind sa-si inceapa mandatul cu o confruntare deschisa intr-o problema politica spinoasa – pretinsele racolari comuniste, prin “infiltrare” – , iar altii, ca prin atitudinea sa ezitanta, el l-ar fi cautionat indirect pe McCarthy, dand apa la moara acestuia.

Trebuie luat in calcul, pentru a adanci ambiguitatea, si climatul international in detensionarea caruia Presedintele Eisenhower era direct implicat, prin retragerea vremelnica a flotilei a 7-a americane, care separa China lui Mao de Taiwanul Kuomintangului (conducerea nationalista a Chinei, asigurata de catre Cian-Kai-sek), gest considerat de catre multi ca reprezentand o concesie facuta Chinei comuniste, fiindca survenea intr-un moment in care China era deja suficient de puternica pentru a respinge o contraofensiva a opozantului Cian-Kai-sek (31 oct. 1887-5 apr. 1975), refugiat in insula Taiwan dupa victoria definitiva a lui Mao din 1949. Eisenhower se afla, aici, ca si in confruntarile interne cu McCarthy, intre ciocan si nicovala, fiindca avea de gestionat, pe de o parte, razboiul din Coreea (caruia ii va pune capat), si, pe de alta, fiindca pe umerii sai apasa strivitor mostenirea Presedintelui Roosevelt, care il cautionase pe Cian-Kai-sek in detrimentul Chinei comuniste, recunoscandu-l ca lider unic, intr-atat de mult, incat va impune China nationalista ca membru cu drepturi depline al Consiliului de Securitate al ONU, spre exasperarea si protestul politic energic al celeilalte parti.

Eisenhower va ramane de partea Taiwanului chiar si dupa ce chinezii comunisti vor ataca, in august 1954, insulele Quemoy si Matsu, controlate de catre rebelii nationalisti (atacul va fi repetat in 1958), insa gestul sau strategic de atunci va da nastere la multe comentarii – si la nemultumiri deschise din partea regimului Cian-Kai-sek -, fiindca, drept raspuns la prima ofensiva impotriva celor doua insule, el va pune Taiwanului sub protectorat militar si defensiv american, prevazand explicit, in tratatul semnat cu acest prilej, ca Taiwanului nu va ataca China continentala decat cu acordul prealabil al Statelor Unite, clauza considerata ca fiind de fapt favorabila, prin ricoseu, Chinei comuniste, pusa la adapost de un atac de hartuiala din partea unui lider care nu va inceta sa se considere conducator al Chinei “autentice” – fiind cautionat in acest sens de multe guverne occidentale – pana la moartea sa, survenita in 1975.

La inceputul anului 1953, Senatorul McCarthy acuza postul de radio Vocea Americii de sabotarea difuzarii mesajului politic liberal american, subminarea fiind pusa pe seama numerosilor comunisti voalati care actioneaza in interiorul postului (cf. Walter L. Hixson: Parting the Curtain. Propaganda, Culture, and the Cold War, 1945-1961, MacMillan, 1997, p. 52 sq). Audierile incep la New York, in data de 16 februarie 1953, accentul fiind pus pe sabotarea tehnica a postului, prin alegerea unor relee de transmisie care s-au dovedit a fi gresit amplasate, diminuand semnalul postului. intr-adevar, cu cateva luni in urma, inginerul Lewis J. McKesson fusese licentiat pentru un prejudiciu tehnic de 18 milioane de dolari, cauzat de siturile de retransmisie eronat calculate si de relee la fel de disfunctionales citat la audieri, el declara ca eroarea a fost doar tehnica, in vreme ce Senatorul McCarthy si secundantii sai, Roy Cohn si G. David Shine, vor insista agresiv pe sugestia ca amplasarea gresita a locurilor si releelor de transmisie s-a datorat unui sabotaj intern purpuriu.

in saptamana a doua a audierilor – scrie Walter L. Hixson (op.cit., p. 54) – , accentul audierilor se muta pe acuza ca postul de radio Vocea Americii citeaza autori comunisti si personalitati din tabara socialista inamica pentru a-si redacta materialele polemice, facand in acest fel reclama indirecta sloganurilor si doctrinei de la Kremlin. Formal, oricine isi poate da seama ca nu se putea altfel, fiindca postul de radio avea – ca si Europa Libera, de altfel – o legitimitate preponderent polemica, citarea textelor incriminante dovedindu-se a fi indispensabila pentru un contraatac ideologic si politic plauzibil. Cu toate acestea, Secretarul de Stat John Foster Dulles – anticomunist virulent, pana in maduva oaselor, cum va ramane pana la moarte (24 mai 1959, de cancer) – isi va insusi incriminarea subcomisiei, dispunand ca numele purpurii si referintele citate sa dispara din sumarul programelor difuzate de catre VOA sau din corpul textelor trimise in lume pe calea undelor. Aceasta concesie dovedea faptul ca varful puterii executive americane devenise foarte precaut in a-l contracara pe McCarthy, succesul relativ facandu-l pe acesta sa devina si mai violent. Pe de alta parte, analistii sunt azi aproape unanim de parere ca interdictia a slabit impactul stiintific de moment al postului, neputinta de a-l cita pe preopinent dand nastere unei retorici paralele, doar indirect confruntative.

McCarthy isi va continua cruciada in aprilie 1953, cand Subcomisia de investigatii a Senatului pe care o conducea lanseaza un atac impotriva … bibliotecilor din ambasadele americane din Europa, pe motivul ca ele ar pastra pe rafturi literatura de inspiratie comunista, subversiva. Doi membri mai tineri ai Subcomisiei, consilierul-sef Roy Cohn (temut pentru iesirile sale intempestive) si consultantul G. David Shine (ambii de trista faima) calatoresc peste tot in Europa, viziteaza bibliotecile tuturor ambasadelor americane, controlul agresiv panicand Departamentul de Stat, care da dispozitii ca toate volumele “subversive” (inclusiv cele scrise de catre autori celebri) sa fie sortate si – literalmente – arse. Isteria bibliotecilor subversive incinerate se extinde, in interior, asupra campusurilor studentesti, unde numeroase capete infierbantate recurg la lustratii ignic similare, sustinute frenetic de catre presa si incurajate tacit de catre autoritati, cu o singura exceptie – Presedintele insusi – , care le cere studentilor sa nu participe la campania de punere pe foc a cartilor. Sugestia prinde, dar nu peste tot.

HUAC

E de mentionat, in acest punct, un detaliu asupra caruia m-am oprit in trecere si in eseul precedent, si anume ca isteria audierilor senatoriale ale subcomisiei de investigatii conduse de catre Senatorul Joseph McCarthy – care-si extinsese intre timp tentaculele si asupra ofiterilor superiori din armata, creand si aici panica – se desfasura in paralel cu activitatea similara a celebrului HUAC (House Un-American Activity Committee ± Comitetul Parlamentar pentru Investigarea Activitatilor Non-Americane), infiintat in 1945 cu scopul de a depista prezenta subversiunii comuniste pe teritoriul Statelor Unite. A functionat – neverosimil aproape – pana in anul 1975, influentand din umbra nu numai viata publica, dar si activitatea organelor de imigrare, foarte atente la sugestiile Comitetului.

HUAC, condus de catre onorabilul Karl Mundt la inceput, membru al Camerei Reprezentantilor, si-a flexat primii muschi sugerand ca in unele institutii ale Executivului de la Washington D.C. lucreaza simpatizanti comunisti infiltrati, insa acuza a fost usor respinsa de catre cei in cauza si de catre Presedintele Truman. “Bomba” HUAC-ului avea sa fie lansata insa in anul 1947, foarte subtil, intr-un mediu la care nimeni nu se astepta, dar la care opinia publica americana era extraordinar de sensibila: industria cinematografica de la Hollywood. Efectul este devastator: nume mari ale filmului american sau mondial (cineasti, scenaristi, actori) sunt convocate la audieri, multi dintre cei incriminati pierzandu-si posturile sau fiind tratati ulterior circumspect de catre angajatori.

In 1947, HUAC opereaza prin confruntare, convocand la audieri 25 de martori de partea acuzarii, si 10 (de fapt 11, ultimul fiind Bertolt Brecht, care depune marturie pe motivul ca e non-american, spre deosebire de ceilalti) pe banca acuzatilor. “The Hollywood Ten” – cum sunt cei din urma cunoscuti in exegeza – se compunea din: scenaristii Alvah Bessie, Lester Cole, Ring Lardner Jr., John Howard Lawson, Albert Maltz, Sam Ornitz, Dalton Trumbo, din regizorii Herbert Biberman si Edward Dmytryk si din producatorul Adrian Scott. (Cf. Richard A. Schwatz: Cold War Culture. Media and the Arts, 1945-1990, Facts on File, Inc., New York, 1998, pp. 140-142.) De partea cealalta a baricadei, unde se aflau “martorii prietenosi”, chemati sa identifice urme ale simpatiilor comuniste la Hollywood, se aflau nume de rezonanta: Jack Warner (unul dintre proprietarii studioului Warner Bros), Louis B. Mayer (de la MGM), actorii Ronald Reagan (viitorul presedinte), Gary Cooper, George Murphy, Robert Taylor, Robert Montgomery, scenarista Ayn Rand sau regizorul Walt Disney (ibid., p. 141). Audierile s-au desfasurat, procedural, disproportional, “Cei 10” (al 11-lea fiind, cum spuneam, Bertolt Brecht, care a raspuns la intrebari, fiind “oaspete in SUA”) au refuzat sa se supuna interogatoriului privind crezul ideologic si politic, documentele inregistrand doar parerile incriminatorilor, consecinta audierilor fiind incarcerarea mai multor acuzati si alcatuirea unei redutabile liste negre, cu nume indezirabile de a mai face parte din diferite echipe de lucru si de turnare. O alta lista neagra cuprindea titlurile de filme in care figurau dialoguri, scene sau franturi de fraza considerate a fi “comuniste”.

Hollywood-ul a ramas in vizorul suspiciunii pana in 1951-52, cand audierile au reinceput, sub presedintia onorabilului John Wood, care preluase intre timp conducerea HUAC-ului. De data aceasta, ele s-au distins prin numarul urias al celor citati si incriminati – direct sau indirect -: sute de persoane, majoritatea cu nume de notorietate, foarte indragite de catre spectatori. in cele din urma, lista neagra a inclus 212 nume, cazul cel mai cunoscut fiind acela al scriitorului Arthur Miller, care, neinvocand in fata Comitetului cel de-al Cincilea Amendament al Constitutiei americane – conform caruia nimeni nu poate depune marturie impotriva lui insusi – , a fost amendat cu 500 de dolari si a primit o sentinta de 30 de zile de inchisoare, cu suspendare (cf. Schwartz, op. cit., p. 143).

“Spionita” lansata de catre comitet continua in 1952, la Universitatea Harvard si la MTI (Massachussets Institute of Technology) – ambele fiind centre academice-etalon, cum sunt, de fapt, si astazi. in 1953, suspiciunea isterizata se extinde asupra intregului sistem scolar si educativ american, creand panica uriasa: din nou, sute si sute de oameni isi pierd postul sau sunt retrogradati, pentru simplul fapt de a fi fost aratati cu degetul, fara ca vina lor sa fie dovedita documentar sau juridic.

Isteria culmineaza in noiembrie 1953 cu citatii trimise de catre HUAC fostului presedinte Truman (Dwight Eisenhower preluase intre timp fraiele Casei Albe), fostului Secretar de Stat James Byrnes si fostului Procuror General James Clark, acuzati de a-l fi angajat si sustinut pe “simpatizantul comunist” Harry Dexter White, descendent al unei familii de imigranti lituanieni, inalt functionar guvernamental si presedinte al Fondului Monetar International, decedat in 1948. Cei trei citati refuza sa se supuna audierilor, fiind sustinuti in acest sens si de catre noua administratie. in 1954, speranta celor care credeau ca HUAC va aluneca pe toboganul dispretului odata cu dezavuarea legislativa formala a Senatorului Joseph McCarthy va fi infirmata: HUAC va prelua multe dintre prerogativele senatoriale ale subcomisiei de trista faima a lui McCarthy, dar va lucra mai ponderat, fara accese isterice sau acuze necontrolate.

McCarthy: filmul sfarsitului

Prin conjugarea acestor doua parghii de presiune, un detaliu devine limpede: si anume, ca nici activitatea HUAC, nici isteria anticomunista a Senatorului Joseph McCarthy si a asistentilor sai, pigmentata cu audieri intens mediatizate si cu arderi de carti spectaculoase, bine stropite cu ura, n-ar fi fost posibile fara asentimentul relativ al unei bune parti a populatiei, a carei judecata fusese grav viciata de climatul de ostilitate ideologica exacerbata intretinut de catre Razboiul Rece. in rasfatul oglinzii favorabile pe care i-o tinea publicul – fiecare audiere a subcomitetului condus de catre Senator se bucura de mustoase comentarii de presa si de intense mediatizari radiofonice, bun prilej de a intretine psihoza populara a vigilentei si a purificarii – , McCarthy lanseaza, in noiembrie 1953, un atac rebel impotriva Presedintelui Eisenhower, acuzat de a fi fost prea “moale” in eliminarea comunistilor si a simpatizantilor comunisti din Executiv. Acesta raspunde ferm, dar are, in continuare, mainile legate si cuvintele voalate de surdina: stilistica timpului il cautiona pe adversar…

Toboganul pe care aluneca in cele din urma vindicativul Senator si subcomisia pe care o patrona e inaugurat tot in noiembrie 1953, cand McCarthy incepe sa investigheze apartenenta politica a dentistului militar Irving Peress, maior in unitatea de la Camp Kilmer si membru al Partidului American al Muncii (American Labor Party), cu o orientare – evident – de stanga (descoperita intre timp de armata, care declansase procedura de eliberare din rang). Maiorului Irving Peress nu i se cunostea afilierea politica, fiindca atunci cand isi semnase certificatul de loialitate, invocase cel de-al cincilea amendament al Constitutiei Americane. Citat de catre Senatorul McCarthy, pentru a aparea in fata Subcomisiei de investigatii a Senatului (la 30 ianuarie 1954), maiorul Irving Peress a invocat din nou, ca titlu de aparare, cel de-al cincilea amendament, insa McCarthy a perseverat, cerand deferirea sa in fata Curtii Martiale (solicitare excesiva in sine, dar plauzibila juridic, fiindca, in mod oficial, Statele Unite se aflau in stare de razboi), pentru a-l cita, in cele din urma, in fata subcomisiei pe comandantul lui Peress de la Camp Kilmer, generalul Ralph Zwicker. Senatorul s-a purtat necontrolat in timpul audierilor, acuzandu-l pe Zwicker de lipsa de loialitate si de retardare, ca unul care “nu dispune decat de mintea unui copil de cinci anisori”.

Ca un raspuns, lobby-ul anti-McCarthy, influentat si de catre Ministrul Apararii, Robert Stevens, incepe sa functioneze cu motorul mai turat decat inainte, la inceput printr-un show televizat al lui Edward R. Murrow (in programul de mare audienta See It Now, in martie 1954), apoi prin frictiuni interne din cadrul Partidului Republican, unde se sugereaza ca o buna parte dintre congressmeni si-au retras sprijinul pentru Senatorul McCarthy. in cele din urma – dar in acest caz decisiv – ,nemultumirile privind procedeele antidemocratice utilizate de catre senator devin culpe publice prin vocea vicepresedintelui Richard Nixon, care critica deschis metodele inchizitoriale utilizate de catre “McCarthisti” (numele Senatorului nu a fost mentionat). McCarthy a replicat dur, atacand din nou armata, ceea de a dus la o noua campanie de audieri initiate de catre Subcomisie, de data aceasta indreptate exclusiv impotriva corpului ofiteresc, intinse pe o perioada mai lunga: 22 aprilie – 17 iunie 1954.

Orchestratorii demolarii Senatorului McCarthy s-au folosit – indeajuns de subtil – de… orgoliul nemasurat al “tintei”, cerand, intr-o prima instanta, ca audierile sa fie televizate in direct, spre bucuria deschisa a Senatorului, dar si spre imensa deceptie a publicului american, care a vazut pe viu scene de isterie verbala si comportamentala pe care le credea ca fiind inimaginabile sub cupola sacra a Capitoliului. Rezultatul?: Statul Wisconsin, pe care McCarthy il reprezenta, solicita revocarea sa, cu o lista de 400.000 de semnaturi, procesul punerii pe linie moarta a Senatorului Joseph McCarthy finalizandu-se la 2 decembrie 1954, cand Senatul voteaza, in proportie de 67 la 22, in favoarea licentierii sale. In acest moment, McCarthy, intempestiv si debalansat psihic ca de obicei, savarseste inca o greseala, reorientandu-si gratuit acuzele impotriva Presedintelui Eisenhower, ceea ce a consfinteste oprobriul public quasi-general. Demoralizat, Senatorul continua, cu forte scazute, lupta de hartuiala din interiorul Senatului (al carui membru ramasese), murind, in cele din urma, la 2 mai 1957.

“Vigilantismul”

Toti analistii McCarthysmului sunt de acord in privinta faptului ca Senatorul Joseph McCarthy nu a inaugurat el insusi o isterie nationala, ci s-a folosit, ca trambulina de propulsare, de o atmosfera de beligeranta simbolica deja existenta, aproape generalizata, care se revendica de la doctrina “cortinei de fier”, lansata de catre Churchill in martie 1946 si de la misteriosul text The Sources of Soviet Conduct (Radacinile comportamentului sovietic), publicat de catre George F. Kennan in revista Foreign Affairs, sub semnatura Mr.X. (detaliu discutat de altfel si in textul meu precedent). Termenul central al articoului – spuneam si atunci – este containment (indiguire), sugerand necesitatea identificarii si izolarii comunistilor din societatea americana, care ar fi – dupa spusele textului – “contaminata” de o puzderie de agenti subversivi si destabilizatori. George F. Kennan fiind o eminenta cenusie a Casei Albe, e usor de inteles motivul pentru care misteriosul sau text a devenit ideologie executiva.

Christine Lindey (Art in the Cold War: From Vladivostok to Kalamazoo, 1945-1962, Herbert Press, London, 1990, p. 9) mentioneaza si un alt detaliu al contextului, sintetizabil prin ceea ce am putea numi “nevoia de cenzura”. Paradigma de functionare a democratiei americane – spune Lindey – este, prin definitie, incompatibila cu orice act de limitare a libertatii si opiniei unei persoane, ceea ce exclude din start infiintarea vreunui organism guvernamental sau administrativ de exercitare a cenzurii publice. Ca o consecinta – sugereaza Lindey – ,viata publica americana a intretinut dintotdeauna un climat informal de cenzura, axat pe asentimentul popular, pe oprobriul public, pe stigmatizare publica sau pe autocenzura, cu reverberatii microcomunitare foarte puternice (izolarea spontana a “suspectului” de catre rude, vecini si cunoscuti, “indiguirea” sa de catre fostii prieteni, presiunea psihologica exercitata de catre institutiile cu care venea in contact – servicii, autoritati -, sau de catre colegii de serviciu). McCarthysmul a conferit coerenta majora, senatoriala, unei asemenea psihoze difuze, ceea ce duce la o dezvoltare diacronica duala a fenomenului: desi, sub aspect formal, institutional, audierile subcomisiei coordonate de catre Senator au incetat in 1954, samanta aruncata de catre acesta in solul fertil al suspiciunii a trait mult timp dupa aceea, cu forta unei constante atitudinale, de ordin institutional, personal sau comunitar. De fapt, cum aminteam, HUAC a preluat, intr-un stil moderat, numeroase teme tratate pana atunci mult mai radical de catre McCarthy si subcomisia pe care o gira, ducandu-le mult dincolo de valul de contracultura din deceniul 7.

Christopher Lasch (The Cultural Cold War: A Short History of The Congress for Cultural Freedom, in vol. Towards a New Past: Dissenting Essays in American History. Edited by Barton J. Bernstein, Pantheon Books, New York, 1968, pp. 322-359) numeste acest fenomen de cenzura difuza, diseminata, “vigilantism”, cu extensiile calitative de rigoare: “vigilantism” cultural, politic, institutional, comunitar etc. “Vigilantismul” se propaga – sugereaza teza – pe calea asentimentului popular, comunitar, avand drept suport functional psihologia sociala preventiva. Un om cazut sub incidenta acestei psihoze de lustratie suspicioasa devine inevitabil victima, persoana stigmatizata, pe care, de pilda, o institutie sau o firma ezita s-o angajeze, fiindca nimeni nu se oboseste sa intreprinda expertiza juridica prealabila a acestei suspicionari, pentru a stabili temeinicia sau, dimpotriva, netemeinicia sa: simpla aratare cu degetul este de ajuns. Sistemic, functionarea “vigilantismului” e cautionata si de mecanismul insusi al justitiei (e un cerc vicios foarte perfid aici!), fiindca, formal, un om suspicionat de subversiune antistatala poate scapa de tinicheaua care i s-a agatat de coada numai prin intermediul tribunalului, printr-o decizie judecatoreasca favorabila. Pentru a o obtine, el trebuie sa initieze procesul, care presupune implicit, dincolo de cheltuieli personale foarte mari, punerea in cauza a propriei sale integritati morale si civice, prin audierile pro si contra carora trebuie sa le faca fata.

Denumirea HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee) confirma si ea, printr-un mic detaliu subtil, dimensiunea psihozei anticomuniste lansate in anii ’40-50′. Comitetul asimila suspiciunea de a fi comunist sau de a nutri convingeri sau simpatii comuniste unei activitati non-americane (nu anti-americane), sugerand ca simpatia purpurie aduce atingere calitatii de american, nereprezentand – cum ar fi fost firesc sa fie – doar o activitate orientata impotriva Americii si a intereselor acesteia. Logic, ecuatia opozitiva la care se recurge aici stipuleaza ca un american autentic nu poate fi comunist, incompatibilitatea fiind nu numai politica, ci si ontologica. Aceste detalii nu sunt simple subtilitati exegetice, fiindca pe nuantele instituite de ele s-au elaborat, ulterior, rituri colective de lustratie. De pilda, in Mesajul din 1954 adresat natiunii, Presedintele Eisenhower a sugerat ca simpatizantilor comunisti si comunistilor sa li se retraga cetatenia americana. (cf.  Stephen Whitfield: The Culture of the Cold War, Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1991, p. 14). Autorul (ibid., p. 14) mentioneaza ca, in urma acestei sugestii, Universitatea Harvard a declansat un sondaj de opinie la scara nationala, care a demonstrat ca “80% din populatie era de acord cu  sugestia presedintelui, 52% era de parere ca toti comunistii trebuie trimisi dupa gratii, iar 77% ca trebuie sa li se interzica accesul la posturile de radio” (televiziunea neraspandindu-se inca foarte mult, radioul era, alaturi de presa, mijlocul media care actiona cel mai eficient asupra populatiei). 

Translarea suspiciunii de pe palierul politic pe cel profesional, indiferent de calitatile intrinseci sau de performanta “impricinatului”, e ilustrata – spune Christopher Lasch (op. cit., p. 337) – si de activitatea Comitetului American pentru Libertate Culturala (The American Committee for Cultural Freedom – primul presedinte a fost Sidney Hook), care a adoptat in 1951 urmatoarea pozitie oficiala – evident, abuziva, dar foarte eficienta… – , referitoare la mediul academic (campusurile universitare erau in vizorul tuturor, ca “pepiniere” ale convingerilor de stanga): “Un membru al partidului comunist transgreseaza canoanele responsabilitatii academice, isi angajeaza intelectul in servitute, descalificandu-se implicit sub aspect profesional in a-si exercita atributiile de savant si de profesor.” Stephen Whitfield mentioneaza in acest sens si un alt abuz isteric, apartinand congressmanului Donald L. Jackson (republican din California), care a obiectat public impotriva participarii compozitorului sovietic :ostakovici la Conferinta Culturala si stiintifica pentru Pace de la New York (1949), printr-o declaratie “mustoasa”, indelung mediatizata: “:ostakovici are acelasi drept de a participa la o conferinta culturala pe care il are si un sarpe cu clopotei de a se apropia de altarul unei biserici” (Whitfield, op. cit., p. 14)

O societate vulnerabila

Analizand climatul social in care prolifereaza isteria anticomunista din anii ’50, Stephen Whitfield se opreste asupra unor detalii de sistem – unele neplacute, chiar si azi -, care demonstreaza ca anticomunismul popular din anii respectivi a fost orchestrat subtil din culise, pentru reglarea unor disfunctionalitati sociale si psihologice interne (adica: exact teza lui Mary Kaldor, din The Imaginary War, pe care am discutat-o in eseul anterior si – sumar – in paragrafele de pornire, puse intre paranteze drepte, ale prezentului eseu).

Primul detaliu vizeaza sincretismul dintre suspiciunea politica si cea rasiala, intr-un moment in care, pe fondul de stabilitate asigurat de incheierea celui de-al doilea razboi mondial, miscarea de emancipare a negrilor inregistreaza o recrudescenta. “FBI-ul – scrie Whitfield – se dovedea a fi foarte prompt in a pune semnul egalitatii intre optiunea cuiva pentru egalitate rasiala si subversiunea politica.” (op. cit., p. 21). Whitfield mentioneaza, in continuare, cercetarile sociologului David Riesman, conform carora, spre inceputul anilor ’50, societatea americana inregistreaza, la nivel macrocomunitar, o translatie de la introvertire sociala (pricinuita de razboi) la extrovertire, isteria anticomunista si “cultura vigilanturii” – pentru a recurge din nou la formula lui Christopher Lasch – functionand ca mecanisme informale, insidioase de cenzura pe ansamblul hedonismului extrovertit, “iresponsabil”, “nevigilent” al majoritatii populatiei. Ecuatia lui Riesman mai sugereaza si un alt aspect, pe care-l putem aplica si la alte societati, chiar si la cele foste comuniste, care s-au desprins din blocul socialist dupa anul 1989: si anume ca o societate “victorioasa” dezvolta o vulnerabilitate holistica specifica, uneori chiar mai acuta decat vulnerabilitatea pe care o acuza o societate “invinsa”. La cea dintai, “victoria” se converteste, aproape intotdeauna, intr-un proces de slabire a retelei sociale, fortele centrifuge fiind mai puternice decat cele de conservare si de coeziune, pe cand o societate infranta isi strange de regula randurile dupa experienta negativa care i-a afectat existenta, punand in miscare o solidaritate retractila deosebita.

Vulnerabilitatea postbelica a societatii americane este ilustrata – spun specialistii – si prin cautionarea superioara a religiei (a misticului) in raport cu politicul. “In secolul 20 – spune Whitfield (ibid., p. 83) – , afilierea formala la biserica n-a atins nicicand si nu va atinge niciodata amplitudinea inregistrata in anii ’50.” Pe de alta parte, creste spectaculos, in aceeasi perioada, numarul bolnavilor psihici, “numarul internarilor in spitalele de boli nervoase dublandu-se in epoca” (ibid., p. 84). in 1956, numarul bolnavilor psihici internati il dubla pe acela al celorlalti bolnavi laolalta, consumul de pilule antidepresive si tranchilizante intrecand, in perioada 1953-56, cifra de 1 miliard. (ibid., p. 84) Epoca genereaza un “guru” bun la toate – si mai ales la tamaduirea ranilor de suflet -, in persoana Reverendului Norman Vincent Peale, societatea americana inregistrand dupa aceea, pana in anul 1968 (intr-un deceniu  de amplitudine a contraculturii, a generatiei beat, a miscarii hippy  si a LSD-ului propovaduit de catre Timothy Leary) o continua progresie a “nevoii de guru”, necesitatea marcand un foarte pronuntat indice de nesiguranta sociala, macrocomunitara. “Probabil cea mai populara carte a deceniului” 1951-60 – scrie Whitfield (op. cit., p. 84) – a fost The Power of Positive Thinking (Forta de a gandi pozitiv), care substituie in preferinte The Guide to Confident Living din 1947, care ajunsese sa fie, in 1952, cea mai citita carte din America, dupa Biblie (Whitfield, op. cit., p. 84). “Teologia anilor ’50 – conchide autorul (p. 87) – s-a bazat mai putin – sa spunem – pe argumentatia lui Thomas de Aquino privind existenta lui Dumnezeu si mai mult pe convingerea ca religia era in mod virtual sinonima cu nationalismul american.”

Tom Engelhardt (The End of Victory Culture: Cold War America and the Disillusioning of a Generation, Basic Books, New York, 1995) analizeaza atat consecintele administrative ale acestei “psihoze a calului troian”, bazata pe convingerea ca dusmanul, ascuns, nevazut, se afla deja “in cetatea noastra”, cat si efectul de secretizare institutionala pe care acesta psihoza l-a generat, cu precadere la nivelui CIA si FBI. in 1947 – precizeaza Engelhardt (op. cit., p. 118) -, CIA avea 100 de angajati: peste doua decenii, numarul lor ajunge la 16.000”, dintre care anii ’50 isi “asuma”, ca cifra de angajare, vreo 8-10.000. Cresterea e spectaculoasa, si nu mai trebuie comentata. O analiza mai subtila merita insa – sugereaza Engelhardt – celalalt aspect, al “secretizarii” institutionale. Prin definitie si prin cutuma democratica, o institutie americana care deserveste cetateanul este eminamente deschisa. si azi, institutiile federale pot fi, fara exceptie, vizitate, fiind deschise publicului, cu minime restrictii impuse de protocolul intern specific si de program. Exista, insa, o constanta asincrona in aceasta permisivitate, dictata de raportul fluctuant dintre segmentul transparent al unei institutii si cel secret, inaccesibil marelui public. in epoci de criza – cum se intampla si azi, dupa atacurile teroriste din 11 septembrie 2001 – , cumpana se inclina inspre jumatatea secreta a balanteis dimpotriva, in epocile de stabilitate democratica – asa cum s-a intamplat in timpul presedintiei lui Ronald Reagan, de pilda – , talgerul “transparent” al balantei era “mai greu” decat cel secret. in anii ’50, psihoza sociala potrivit careia “dusmanul” actioneaza din interior, camuflat, sub acoperire, fiind disimulat in spatele unei masti inselatoare, a cautionat – spune Engelhardt  (p. 120) – practica secretizarii institutiilor de aparare si de propaganda americane, guvernarea dobandind “dreptul” de a avea o fata publica si una “umbrita” – aceasta din urma fiind mult mai mai protejata decat prima. Simbolul acestei duplicitati il constituie fratii Dulles: Allen (director CIA), John Foster – Secretar de Stat.

Malcolm X

Reamintim si de data aceasta ca procesul secretizarii benefice a fost declansat de catre George F. Kennan, prin faimosul sau text de presa semnat Mr. X (v. supra). Procesul – odata pornit – a dat nastere la mimetisme spectaculoase, un caz foarte cunoscut fiind acela al militantului de culoare Malcolm Little (supranumit “Satan” in detentie), arestat pentru jaf, care-si schimba numele in “Malcolm X”, metamorfoza sugerand cel putin doua lucruri la nivelul intentiei onomastice ostentative: 1. abandonarea etichetei de “om mic” (Little) si 2. asumarea unei ascendente africane necunoscute, altfel spus (ceea ce suna deja subversiv…): sugestia de descendenta genetica non-americana, extinsa apoi asupra unei intregi rase, cea a negrilor. Nascut in 1925, in Omaha, Nebraska, Malcolm Little va fi asasinat in data de 21 februarie 1965, activismul sau in favoarea “puterii negre” (“black power” e o sintagma pusa in circulatie de catre Stokely Carmichael – cf. America in the Sixties. Right, Left, and Center. Edited by Peter B. Levy, Praeger, Westport, Connecticut – London, 1998, p. 87) fiind mult mai radical si mai vehement in retorica decat acela al Reverendului Martin Luther King, ucis si el in 1968.

“Seducerea inocentilor”

Secretizarea are, ca tehnica sociala,  pe langa beneficii institutionale evidente, si o dimensiune reziduala, concretizata in sentimentul – difuz, dar foarte insidios si persistent – ca o parte a societatii “scapa de sub control”, intra in penumbra incontrolabila a perimetrului de vigilenta, sau ca dispare de-a dreptul in intuneric, “se ascunde”. Vom incheia eseul de fata cu analiza unui asemenea caz, de asemenea celebru, dar si apocaliptic: volumul Seduction of the Innocent (Seducerea inocentilor), al doctorului Frederick (sau Fredric, depinde de grafie) Wertham (Rinehart, New York, 1954).

Wertham a fost un pedagog si psihiatru newyorkez apocaliptic, punand bazele primei clinici psihiatrice din Harlem. In cartea sa din 1954, care s-a bucurat de un foarte mare succes de public la data aparitiei, el e interesat de efectul psihologic si educativ devastator pe care desenele animate din presa si din cartile specializate (comicsuri) il au asupra copiilor americani. Sub influenta acestor “acte de violenta generate comercial” – scrie Wertham – , copiii nostri “pot fi transformati in mici monstri”, practicanti ai unei subculturi deviante, de gasca si de generatie, extrem de periculoase pentru echilibrul psihic general al comunitatilor rurale si – mai ales – citadine (apud Engelhardt, op. cit., p. 134). Aceasta “contaminare” “alienanta” se petrece – scria infiorat Wertham – sub ochii aparent protectori ai parintilor, bucurosi sa-si stie odraslele acasa, cu o carte sau cu o revista respectabila in mana, in loc ca ele sa umble haihui pe strazi. Ceea ce se intampla in realitate este insa terifiant – spune tenebros Wertham -, fiindca, citind aceleasi carti, in serie, pe care parintii nu le mai verifica, convinsi fiind ca, de vreme ce au primit girul unei edituri americane, ele sunt “potrivite” pentru odrasle, copiii se solidarizeaza pe nesimtite intr-o subcultura generationista alternativa, saturata de violenta si de nemultumire, “otravita”, “demoralizanta”, rupta insidios de cultura canonica a adultilor.

Fredric Wertham este – se pare – primul care a sesizat ruptura culturala generationista din societatea postbelica americana, determinata de baby boom-ul de dupa 1945 (psihoistoria avea sa se ocupe foarte mult de consecintele fantasmatice ale acestui spectaculos spor de natalitate!). Ulterior, spre inceputul si mijlocul anilor ’60, multe dintre temerile doctorului Wertham vor fi reiterate, la fel de spasmodic, dar sub alte forme, ca reactie la contracultura adolescentina a generatiei beat si a miscarii hippy. In ambele cazuri, spaima adultilor era alimentata de credinta ca sub efectul hedonismului de grup si al libertinajului “subversiv”, cautionate de aceasta sensibilitate culturala alternativa, adeptii ei se vor depolitiza premeditat, nemaiputand deveni  – cum se cuvine sa se intample intr-un razboi, chiar si numai daca el este doar “rece” – “buni cetateni” ai unei tari permanent amenintate din afara si din interior.

Erika Larsson

Hope through disaster

Without historical memory, what would become of an individual, a people, a community?

Marcus Ehrenpreis ”Att minnas och att glömma” Judisk Tidskrift 1940[1]

Abstract: The paper deals with the impact of history on human life in general, with special focus on the perception of history by Jews during the Nazi holocaust.

Keywords: History; historical consciousness; totalitarian societies; fascism; Nazi; Holocaust

Anyone who devotes most part of her life to history, reading, writing, teaching and thinking about this subject is pleased to find that history also matters a great deal to others – even if it is another history for another purpose. I had not thought that much about the role history plays in other people’s lives until a couple of years ago, when I started to study Jewish identity and realised the impact of history there. And if you have once noticed the importance of history in one field, its power is suddenly apparent almost everywhere.

The dissertation I am working on as a Ph.D. student in history, is supposed to answer a question about the impact of history on human beings or, less pretentiously, to describe how history matters to us, how our views of past, present and future influence each other. What needs render some parts of history important, while others remain unnoticed? What does history do for us? My main interest is in the common, everyday, uses of history, not the conscious use you find, for example, in politics (although the division between the two may be vague), but history as an important part of our culture, identity and existential ideas.

The concept of historical consciousness is here understood as the process through which human beings, in their everyday life, combine past, present and future – or, in other words, their space of experience with their daily life and horizon of expectations. The three dimensions of time will influence each other, so our understanding of the past affects our expectations for the future, and the other way around. In the same way, our picture of the present is important for the way in which we perceive past and present, as well as for the way in which it is created by our ideas about history and future.[2]

Thinking about the past is an inevitable part of the human way of looking at life. No one can refrain from using history as a point of reference in life. Stories about history are necessary for our identity and sense of belonging. Thus everyone, regardless of his or her quality of knowledge about the Black Death or the fall of Masada, has a historical consciousness. It is of less importance if the events included in the space of experience are considered scientifically true or not. Historical consciousness can be built on novels or myths, as well as on historical narratives produced by scholars. The main issue is whether they are considered to be true in some sense.

This also implies that there is no such thing as a human being without a sense of history. In Sweden you commonly come across the expression “historielös” (“without history”), used to denote a person, probably a student, considered to lack sufficient historical knowledge – therefore also considered to be more susceptible to totalitarian ideologies and other unpleasant complaints. Of course there are people with inadequate knowledge about history, people who would probably find increased insights in history both pleasing and useful, but this does not mean that they lack a sense of history or a historical consciousness altogether.

My “dissertation to be” will not prevent misapplications of history. Even if such a thing were possible, I would no doubt refrain from doing so. I think that if history is to be valuable, it has to be used for something. Historical narratives endowed with an existential meaning have an important purpose to achieve, even if they are not compatible with what is considered absolute truth, something I hope to be able to show in the what follows.

That I am considering Jews is not due to any idea about Jews being more connected to the past, or especially apt be stuck in memories, or to an expectation of exquisite historical knowledge amongst that group. Jews are not, of course, even a uniform assembly, all sharing the same opinions. Thus I won’t be able to say anything about how the Jewish community at large. However, that does not bother me particularly, since my main intention is to show how history matters, through what I consider to be a well-chosen example. Jewish tradition has been devoted to preserving memory. God reveals himself to man through his appearance in history, and remembering the past thus is the only way to find out about God. There is a purpose, God’s purpose, with history, which is therefore meaningful. Many scholars studying Judaism have described the Jews as the “inventors” of meaning in history: ”As for the Jews, they invented history as an existential dimension of man in time.”[3] The Swedish chief-rabbi Marcus Ehrenpreis claimed in 1939 that “history /…/ [is] basically a religious concept, since it implies that there is a system in what is happening.”[4] Thus, I have reason to believe that one can find interesting reflections concerning history in the Jewish tradition.

Another reason for studying the Jewish group is that it is a minority which has preserved its identity for a very long time in spite of an otherwise far-reaching assimilation to the majority culture. The collective memory has probably played an important part for this identification. In an issue of the Swedish-Jewish monthly magazine Judisk Tidskrift from 1940, Marcus Ehrenpreis writes:

“Normal peoples, who live on their historical ground, carry this living memory of the past within, as well as looking at it; memorials, buildings, ancient sites, landscape, bear witness to the being of the nation, to its growth, victories and failures. Israel, who has been chosen to live scattered among other nations for thousands of years, has, more than these nations, been left to keeping the historical memory alive. No word is pronounced with more emphasis in our Sacred Scripture, than the word s a c h o r, remember. Our holidays, our ceremonies and symbols, as well as many of our prayers, are, to a lesser degree, religious or dogmatic in their purpose; they are primarily thought to be a kind of historical teaching, preserving the memory of the past, not allowing the connection with history to slacken.” [5]

In Sweden there are very few studies dealing with expressions of historical consciousness – although the concept often turns up in theoretical articles, curricula, and public debates. This is partially due to the fact that it is not quite easy to implement. Where do you trace the marks of historical consciousness in real life?

I have chosen to consider my dissertation also as an opportunity to find out which sources might be available for surveys of this kind. During the 20^th century, and this is the period I intend to study, there were several Jewish magazines, sermons and of course rituals, traditions and tales. Since the 1950s there has also been a Jewish school in Stockholm, and, in recent years, there have also appeared monuments and a Jewish museum. In this essay I will, however, mainly be concerned with the example of the magazine Judisk Tidskrift and its founder Marcus Ehrenpreis, during the 1930s and 1940s.

Judisk Tidskrift was published between 1928 and 1964, usually in monthly issues. Most of the time, and throughout all the years during the period I am concerned with here, Marcus Ehrenpreis was the chief editor and also the writer of many articles, often sermons held in the synagogues of Stockholm and Norrköping. Marcus Ehrenpreis, who was born in Lemberg (Lvov) in 1869 and later became chief-rabbi in Sofia before he was summoned to Stockholm in 1914, had been engaged in the Zionist movement and had participated in the first Zionist Congress in Basel, 1897, as one of Herzl’s assistants.[6] In Stockholm many were probably expecting him to continue his work for the Zionist movement, but Ehrenpreis decided to cut down on his international engagements – disappointing a few but probably pleasing the majority of assimilated Jews in Stockholm.[7] That he still cherished ideals close to what is commonly called Cultural Zionism is obvious, not least in Judisk Tidskrift, although this is Cultural Zionism unusually focused on religion.

Striking in Ehrenpreis’ sermons, as well as in other of his writings, is the important role of history. In an extra-issue of Judisk Tidskrift published to celebrate Ehrenpreis’ 75^th birthday, Ragnar Josephson, professor in the history of art, points to the rabbi’s effective use of history and to the fact that, contrary to historians proper, he was able to turn history into something other than plain knowledge – “Knowledge is many things, but still just knowledge.”[8] Josephson also provides the reader with a description of how Ehrenpreis uses history:

“It is the secret of historical writings, that they can create grandeur and spirituality from sufferings, and sorrow and disaster, from meanness and destruction /…/ Because they point towards other forces, forces that will never be depressed, but will always break through to help, heal and give hope.”[9]

The main problem demanding attention in Judisk Tidskrift in the 1930s and 1940s was, quite obviously, the Nazi Machtübernahme in Germany, their persecution of Jews there and later in other occupied territories. The contributors to the magazine seemed to take upon themselves the task of keeping up hope within the Swedish Jewry. So did Marcus Ehrenpreis in his essays and sermons. This task could not have been easy, because the columnists and essayists were well aware of the precarious situation of the Jews under Nazi domination. As early as in the mid 1930s there came out articles mentioning an extermination of Jews, even if this did not imply the same thing as today – something that must, after all, seem very alien to human imagination.

The difficulties of the time were mainly treated, especially by Ehrenpreis, through interpreting the future vis-à-vis experiences in history. Since development was considered to be fundamentally the same as it used to be in the past, the future could be understood. Now, this is nothing new to the Jewish tradition. The Mishna, commentaries to the Torah finished in the second century, provides lists of events that are similar, thereby enabling people to understand their lives and experience them in accordance to the present and to the demands of the law. The same strategy was applied, for example, by Jews in the Middle Ages, as well as later. Real persons were described by using archetypes. [10] That, for instance, Haman[11] and the events in the Book of Esther are not necessarily considered historically true doesn’t really matter. In a beginners’ or children’s book about Judaism you will find an explanation telling you that the Book of Esther might not be about something that has actually happened, “But that does not make it [the story] less true. It has happened many times in many different ways. /…/ Thus, even if the story about Esther didn’t occur at that time and in that place, it is still real.[12]

The essayists in Judisk Tidskrift also observed similarities between past and present. The representatives of evil, Hitler and the Nazis, appeared as late followers of Pharao, the Babylonians and Haman. Especially the latter was apprehended as the number one enemy, father of all later anti-Semites, and was a frequently used parallel. In 1931, for example, the historian Hugo Valentin claimed that anti-Semitism had been a constant factor in history, even if its motifs were changing, “as they ha[d] been changing from Haman to Hitler.”[13] And in a play staged in the spring of 1945 for the survivors of concentration camps, Haman even looked just like Hitler – to the great amusement of the spectators. [14] Not only characters, but also historical events were used as models for the present. Thus the situation of Jews in Germany was compared to the slavery in Egypt, while the German Blixtkrieg was seen as a parallel to the Assyrian and Babylonian campaigns from ancient times. Kristallnacht was immediately put in the same category as other disastrous events happening on the 9^th of Av, even if the date November 10^th is not really the same.[15]

To be able to use these parallels, one has to accept the idea that there are fundamental similarities between the past and the present. If you don’t see any likeness between your situation and the conditions of men in times prior to us – and seeing such similarities is by no means inevitable – it must be very difficult to use history for gaining insights into your own life. It would then perhaps be entertaining, but nothing more.

Neither theologically nor philosophically does this pose any problem in Judaism, since emphasis on the continuity of time is a very basic idea. This is also observable in Judisk Tidskrift, where certain phenomena were considered eternal – anti-Semitism, divine grace and the victory of righteousness.

Even so trustful a character as Marcus Ehrenpreis despaired, or at least had doubts sometimes. He compared his task as a preacher with that of the prophet commonly called Deutero-Isaiah, in the Babylonian captivity, and claimed that the present-day situation made his work even harder. Deutero-Isaiah could foresee, or have an idea of, Cyrus, the Persian king defeating the Babylonians and allowing the Israelites to return to their land, but “the preacher today still can’t see any signs of Cyrus…”[16]

Disasters like the captivity were difficult to handle even for the prophets, since the calamities were considered to be God’s punishment brought by an erring people. Thus happiness, as well as misery, was imparted by God. Sinning led to God’s punishment, while improvement returned the grace of God. Sometimes, however, the punishment seemed to lack proportions, or – which is more interesting in this case – improvement wasn’t followed by better conditions. The prophets reconsidered their view of life, and then claimed that God might very well wait a while before he rehabilitated his people, but his grace would eventually return.[17] Ehrenpreis did the same thing; God’s saving hand was postponed but he remained confident that it would be seen, sooner or later.

And here we reach what seems to be the main idea in the use Ehrenpreis and the other essayists made of history before and during World War II. The parallels are not comforting in themselves, but if one draws the consequences from them, history might be used to create a historical consciousness implying a happy future.

“Memory tells us this: Your road through history began with sufferings, your travel through the ages was a walk through fire and blood, hatred and despair. You have survived Egypt, and Persia, and Rome, and the Spanish inquisition. You will also survive the devastation now brought upon you.” [18]

“…the Jewish community in Poland, bravely struggling for their survival through the ages, will also outlive the disaster threatening it now …”[19]

Everyone reading Judisk Tidskrift, everyone listening to Ehrenpreis’ sermons, had the key to history, they knew what had become of the events brought to mind by the parallels. All of them knew that the Israelites had been freed from slavery and taken from Egypt to the promised land, that the rule of the Babylonians had finally come to an end and that Haman had been cruelly – yet fairly – punished for his viciousness. It may well be that they didn’t really consider these stories to be perfectly true, but they might still have thought that the narratives revealed the truth about what kind of world they were living in, the truth about the nature of God and mankind. Besides, they could easily see that all those miseries from the past had never managed to wipe out the Jewish people – something that was used to prove that they would survive also in the future. Ehrenpreis strongly believed that righteousness would eventually be victorious, “as it has always gained victories in the past.” [20] There is also an idea about disaster never being complete, a small number of people always surviving, building something new and better after the calamities:

“And this is also typical: Destruction is never complete; history does not know such a thing as total disaster, but the transforming, changing and renewal of life.”[21]

That this survival does not imply physical survival for all individuals must be apparent – claiming otherwise would be disastrous to the credibility of the writer. Instead it is a matter of survival for the people as a group of individuals and – especially with Ehrenpreis – something he refers to as the eternal spirituality of Israel. The Jewish tradition will never disappear. In the autumn of 1945, in a sermon at Yom Kippur, he noticed that the enemies of Israel had, in spite of everything, not managed to destroy this spirituality, “that will live for ever”.[22]

It is thus obvious that remembering disaster might help one to keep up hope in difficult or even hopeless times. The parallels used are those of really terrible events, and they seem to be all the more useful, the worse they are. You can’t, however, use just any event. The persecution closest in time in the 1930s would be the late 19^th-and early 20^th-century pogroms in Russia, but they were almost never invoked and definitely not as a comforting example. The secret of a successful comparison (successful in so far as it creates hope) seems to be a matter of time passing by. Events appear to be more useful if they are viewed from a distance.

How this has worked after 1945, and how it is working now, when we have reached at least some distance from the events of World War II, I can’t really say – not yet. At least some components in the memory of the Holocaust seem to have inherited ideas from Ehrenpreis and his kind – otherwise the historical consciousness would appear to be the opposite of the one invoked by other calamities used to gain hope in the 1930s. The Holocaust was such a disastrous event that the possibility of something similar happening again always throws a dark shadow over the future. Unpleasant events such as, for example, an Anti-Semitic demonstration by neo-Nazis, is immediately reviving pictures of the 1920s in Germany and signalling a horrendous future. Using the Holocaust for pointing towards a bright future does not seem possible. Still there are some tendencies that might indicate almost such a usage in the future.

A couple of years ago a monument commemorating the victims of the Holocaust was erected by the main synagogue in Stockholm. In a narrow alley between the synagogue and the congregation centre there are large stone plates inscribed with the names of thousands of murdered friends and families of the Jews in Sweden. My first visit to the synagogue occurred on a Friday evening in November some years ago. Having listened to a speech about the vigour of Judaism through the ages, I went outside and almost bumped into these names of extermination-camps and murdered individuals. I couldn’t understand then why the monument had been located just outside the synagogue, and I remember thinking that it must be a terrible task to preach about the vitality of tradition to a community constantly confronted with the remains of something quite different. Today I believe that the location of this memorial is self-evident and that it is really stressing the strength in Jewish tradition. It is not only a reminder of a past disaster, not only preserving memories of loved ones, but also a witness to the continuation of Jewish life. In a way it is almost an illustration of the American Jewish theologian Emil Fackeheim’s famous claim that it is the duty of every Jew to remain a Jew, so as not to grant Hitler a posthumous victory, ”Mir zeinen do – we are here, exist, survive, endure, witnesses to God and men…”[23]

In Out of Africa, the Danish author Karen Blixen is retelling a tale she heard as a child, the kind of tale you draw while you are telling it. This one is about a man in a small round house and the troubles he encounters one night when his pond is damaged. The point of the story is not what is actually happening, but that the storyteller, after finishing the tale, has drawn the picture of a stork. To Blixen this is a picture of how all of us endure ups and downs, hoping perhaps to be able to see a pattern and maybe even a meaning in our lives.[24] As we know, remembering is not only calling to mind single events, but creating memories which contain existential meaning, that is, useful memories. Mircea Eliade, a famous historian of religions, noticed that there is no culture where suffering and death are regarded as the end of everything; they are always followed by re-establishment and resurrection.[25] O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The Holocaust has had a great impact on the historical consciousness of man, Jew as well as gentile. Might it, in times to come, receive another meaning than today, and not only carry the message of death and destruction, but also give strength and hope for a better future?

References

Blixen, Karen. 1986. Den afrikanska farmen. Stockholm: Trevi.

Brandon, Samuel George Frederick. 1965. History, time and deity : a historical and comparative study of the conception of time in religiousthought and practice, containing the Forwood lectures in the philosophy andhistory of religion, delivered in the University of Liverpool, 1964. Manchester.

Brody, Abraham. 1929. “Några notiser till Marcus Ehrenpreis´ biografi.” Judisk Tidskrift. Jubileumshäfte av “Judisk tidskrifts vänner” tillägnat Marcus Ehrenpreis på hans sextioårsdag 1929.

Ehrenpreis, Marcus. 1933. Malakis rop till tiden : tal om gammal och ny träldom. Stockholm: Bonnier.

—. 1938. “Brinnande synagogor.” Judisk Tidskrift.

—. 1940a. “Att minnas och att glömma. Sammanfattning av tal i Stockholms och Norrköpings synagogor.” Judisk Tidskrift.

—. 1940b. “Om Polens judenhet.” Judisk Tidskrift.

—. 1948. Frågetecknet Israel : valda essäer från åren 1923 till 1948. Stockholm: Bonnier.

Eliade, Mircea. 1991. The myth of the eternal return: or, Cosmos and history: Princeton university press.

Fackenheim, Emil L. 1997. God’s presence in history : Jewish affirmations and philosophical reflections. Northvale, N.J.: J. Aronson.

Gersh, Harry. 1999. Så här går det till. Judisk vardag och helg. Stockholm: Hillelförl.

Josephson, Ragnar. 1944. “Historikern, diktaren, förkunnaren.” Judisk Tidskrift. Jubileumshäfte tillägnat Marcus Ehrenpreis på hans sjuttiofemårsdag.

Neusner, Jacob. 1988. “Judaic Uses of History in Talmudic Times.” i Essays in Jewish Historiography, edited by Ada Rapaoport-Albert. Middletown: Wesleyan University.

Sauter, Willmar. 1993. “Svensk-judisk teaterhistorik.” i Nya judiska perspektiv : essäer tillägnade Idy Bornstein. Stockholm: Hillelförl.

Valentin, Hugo. 1931. “Judisk månadsrvy.” Judisk Tidskrift.

Vidal-Naquet, Pierre. 1996. The Jews. History, Memory and the Present. New York: Columbia University Press.

Yerushalmi, Yosef Hayim. 1996. Zakhor : Jewish history and Jewish memory. Seattle: Univ. of Washington Press.