between the memory of the customary and the code of law: crimes, penalties and social identities in...

TRANSYLVANIAN REVIEWVol. XIX, Supplement No. 5: 2, 2010

Edited byOVIDIU CRISTEA • GEORGE LAZÃR • ANDI MIHALACHE

• ALEXANDRU SIMON

Recent Studies on Past and Present

II.Power, Belief and Identity

Transylvanian Review continues thetradition of Revue de Transylvanie,founded by Silviu Dragomir, which was published in Cluj and then in Sibiubetween 1934 and 1944.

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CESARE ALZATI, Ph.D.Facoltà di Scienze della Formazione, Istitutodi Storia Moderna e Contemporanea,Università Cattolica, Milan, ItalyHORST FASSEL, Ph.D.Institut für donauschwäbische Geschichteund Landeskunde, Tübingen, GermanyKONRAD GÜNDISCH, Ph.D.Bundesinstitut für Kultur und Geschichteder Deutschen im östlichen Europa,Oldenburg, GermanyHARALD HEPPNER, Ph.D.Institut für Geschichte, Graz, AustriaPAUL E. MICHELSON, Ph.D.Huntington University, Indiana, USAALEXANDRU ZUB, Ph.D.Chairman of the History Section of theRomanian Academy, Director of the A. D.Xenopol Institute of History, Iaºi, Romania

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Recent Studies on Past and Present

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Contents• Editors’ Note 5

• I. Defining Borders – Defining Societies 7

I.1. The Written, the Painted and the Imagined

Some Considerations regarding Historia Ducum Venetorum 9ªerban Marin

Il Lexicon Marsilianum e la lexicografia rumena nel seicento 29Levente Nagy

Historical Tradition, Legend and Towns in the Moldavian Chronicles 41Laurenþiu Rãdvan

I.2. Church, Law, State and Profit

Histoire du développement de la législation canonique et civile ayant pour objet les biens temporels de l’Église 67

Liviu-Marius Harosa

Confessional Identity – National Identity. The Elites of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church and the Catholic Autonomy from Hungary during the Dualist Period (1867-1918) 89

Ion Cârja

Aspects modernisateurs dans les discours politiques de Elemér Gyárfás 105András Máté

Contribution of Romanian and European Legal Elte to the Definition of the Unjust Enrichment Concept 115

Ciprian Paun

• II. Roads to Modernity – Returns to the Past 141

II.1. Modern Forms of Medieval Legacies

Between the Memory of the Customary and the Code of Law: Crimes, Penalties and Social Identities in Pre-Modern Moldavia (17th Century – First Half of the 18th Century) 143

Cãtãlina-Elena Chelcu

Reinventing Middle Age: the inauguration of the statue of Stephen the Great (Iaºi, 1883) 157

Liviu Brãtescu

The Cult of Brãtianus Between the Two World Wars in Romania: Actors, Characters, Means and Forms of Expression 173

Ovidiu BuruianãII.2. The Birth of a Society

Le rôle social de la promenade à Bucarest et à Iassy (première moitié du XIXe siècle) 195

Dan Dumitru Iacob

Nobility and Power in Moldavia at the Beginning of the 19th Century 209Cristian Ploscaru

Fils egaré ou traître incurable ? La figure du contrerévolutionnaire dans l’imaginaire politique roumain du 1848 227

Nicolae Mihai

• III. The West in the East – The East in the West 251

III.1. Oriental Fears and Aims

Ideological and Practical Means of Survival in Front of the Ottoman Empire in the Late 1400s 253

Alexandru Simon

Geopolitics and strategies in the Black Sea region (1939-1947) 273Mioara Anton

Shaping the Image of the Enemy in the Political Cartoons During the Cold War 285

Paul Nistor

III.2. Drang nach Osten and Survival in the East

Tekendorf – von einer sächsischen Gemeinde zu einer Glaubens- und Nationalitätengemeinschaft 301

Mihai Draganovici

Deutsche Schulen in Rumänien während des Ersten Weltkrieges 313Carmen Patricia Reneti

The Repatriation of the Germans from Latvia and Romania at the Beginning of World War II: Some Comparative Aspects 333

Bogdan-Alexandru Schipor

• List of Authors 343

RECENT STUDIES on Past and Present is a collection of studies, largely con-ference proceedings, of mainly young scholars. By its name, it has no other ambi-tion than to offer new (in terms of methods, sources and date first of all) approach-es to matters of the past (going as far back as the beginnings of the Human race)and of the present (as recent as the last year). It uses neither great words, nor self-proclaimed modesty. The collection at hand employs, to the best of the possi-bilities of its contributors and editors, concepts and topics that are allowed toenjoy their primary simplicity before dwelling in learned complexity; hencealso the shortness of this note. The benevolent, or not, reader can find subjectsand writings of interest and of relevance. The reader, likewise well-disposed ornot, might discover interpretations and perspectives that fail to coincide withits own views. Both attitudes are welcome as they should be part of scientific evo-lution and scientific civility, two factors of any normal scholarly community evenat Europe’s borders. Nonetheless, scientific life was never that simple, in the heartof Europe as well. This is a discovery made by more than one generation. Inthis respect too, the collection is fortunate enough to have benefited from theexperience of accomplished scholars and from the ghosts of the past. These sci-entific exchanges, like the collection, revolve around a few key words, simple andcommon by their uses: tradition and invention, power and belief, profit and iden-tity, time and thought, community and individuality. Often these are words madeto bore rather than to entertain. Yet, in this case too, the answer resides solelywith the author and the reader.

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ALEXANDRU SIMON

E D I T O R S ’ N O T E

Power and belief are delicate matters, namely because they have proved to behighly profitable (i.e. rewarding), but also highly painful (i.e. frustrating), there-fore elevating a more than just apparent contradiction between the geneticpurity and common-good defended and promoted through power and belief,and the results that have frequently sidelined these so-called initial features. Undersuch circumstances, almost unavoidably, the abovementioned contradictionalso became a major part of identity, collective or just personal, as well as, on onehand, subject to staunch reform projects (or desires) and, on the other, todetermined defenses. Yet it would be mistaken to focus on moralizing contra-dictions rather than on the literally fascinating way in which the elements ofthe contradictions have cohabitated, have coexisted and often have refrained them-selves from generating contradictions in their own time. It could well be that har-mony, as an ideal (in order to avoid the frequently employed concept of unityin diversity), was frequently more present in practice when its means remainedunquestioned. However, this is not the aim of the present collection of studiesthat questions, sometimes contradicts, and tries to explain how differencesarose and survived from trading practices to political theories. The differencesin conception, aim and topic between each contribution serve also as an attemptto recreate under scholarly circumstances the contradictions and coexistencesof past and present.

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OVIDIU CRISTEA, GHEORGHE LAZÃR, ANDI MIHALACHE, ALEXANDRU SIMON

6 • TRANSYLVANIAN REVIEW • VOL. XIX, SUPPLEMENT NO. 5:2 (2010)

I . D E F I N I N G B O R D E R S – D E F I N I N G S O C I E T I E S

I . 1 . T H E W R I T T E N , T H E PA I N T E DA N D T H E I M A G I N E D

Manuscripts

I T WAS noticed that this chronicle was preserved in only one manuscript1,in full harmony with the other great Venetian works in the 13th century, thatis the one written by Martino da Canal and the one attributed to Marco2.

It is about a manuscript dated even in the very same century3, that is the codexH V 44 at the Library of the Patriarchal Seminary in Venice, pages 35-454, whichalso contains one of the editions of Chronicle Altinate5. The manuscript belongedonce to Marino Sanudo the Young6, and then was the one that Henry Simonsfeldrelied upon when editing Historia Ducum in “Monumenta Germaniae Historica”7.

Luigi Andrea Berto adds another manuscript, dated much later in the 19th cen-tury, which stands at Museo Correr, codex Cicogna no 2180, pages 29r-40r. Itis about a faithful copy on the 13th century manuscript, due to Sante della Valentina,chaplain of the archifraternity of San Rocco8. Pages 36a-36b were inserted in it,and they report just a small part of the chronicle, which would be published byE. A. Cicogna9. These pages were written by Angelo Zon, who offered theexplanation that he had copied it from a 17th century codex at Biblioteca NazionaleMarciana, excerpted from a book of Giovanni Cornaro, who on his turn tran-scribed it from a “historia latina” of Antonio Marsilio, the latter being dogal chan-cellor at the mid of the 16th century10. This latter excerpt refers to Sebastiano Ziani’sdogeship and seems to represent a part of the lost section of the 13th century codex,along with some additional data dealing with the pace in Venice in 117711.

Speaking about the original manuscript, one should note a lacuna, so that thestory stops when narrating the presence of Pope Alexander III in Rome’s neigh-borhood on his way to the Peace Congress in Venice and comes to an end withthe following words “quidam gontinus archiepiscopus”12. The following page

Some Considerations regarding Historia Ducum Venetorum

(13th Century)

ªERBAN MARIN

Study financed through EU, ESF, POSDRU, 89/1.5./S/61104 (2010-2013) Project

deals with a part of the results gained on the occasion of the first siege ofConstantinople in 120313. In his edition, L. A. Berto makes a comparison betweenthe two codices regarding the event in 117714 and fills in the lacuna of the 13th

century manuscript with the text delivered by the 19th century manuscript for theremaining period of S. Ziani’s dogeship.

Editions

F IRST TIME when a passage of Historia Ducum was published is due to E.A. Cicogna15 and refers only to those pages inserted in the manuscriptof the 19th century from Correr Museum, codex Cicogna 2180, pages 29r-

40r16. The modern scholars have neglected this partial version and relied for along time on the complete edition accomplished by H. Simonsfeld. It is aboutan edition published in “Monumenta Germaniae Historica”17, relying upon theonly manuscript taken by then into consideration, meaning the one from thePatriarchal Seminary in Venice, codex H V 44. The edition was republished in192518, and an anastatic reprint was delivered by A. Hiersemann19.

The problem generated by the lacuna for the period between 1178 and1203 did not avoid also H. Simonsfeld, so that the scholar resorted to com-plete it by the chronicle that later would be called Venetiarum Historia from the14th century, named by the editor as “ex chronico quod vocant Iustiniani” fromthe codex Lat. X 36a at Biblioteca Marciana20. The reason invoked by Simonsfeldwas that the two chronicles were to have the same manner of narration. The pro-ceeding has rightfully been regarded that “lascia alquanto perplessi”21, although D.Nicol considers it as being available22. It is true that the work attributed to PietroGiustinian is alike in some points with Historia Ducum, but it does not repre-sent an ad litteram taking over anywhere.

Therefore, the new edition recently delivered by Luigi Andrea Berto23 regardsas being “più corretto non operare in questo modo e lasciare la lacuna”24. Berto’s inter-ventions, such as the division of the chronicle in sections different than thosein Simonsfeld’s edition, under the circumstances that the manuscript does notoffer any subdivision25, and the small change of the title given by Simonsfeld fromVeneticorum to Venetorum26, are well argued by the editor and seem conceivable.


Dating

A S A result of the fact that the chronicle suddenly comes to an end whenreferring to the death of Doge Pietro Ziani in 1229, it has been con-sidered that its dating should be established immediately after that year27,

in other words during Giacomo Tiepolo’s dogeship28, although D. Nicol and Ed.Muir, establish in a certain moment year 1229 when this chronicle was writ-ten29, with the additional note: “al tempo del successore di Dandolo, Pietro Ziani”30.Ch. Brand and Louise Buenger Robbert settle it around 122931, while G. Saint-Guillain to 1230 or a little later32. On his turn, W. Heyd spoke about our workas “une chronique écrite une cinquantaine d’années après ces événements”33; beingabout the event in 1171, when the Venetian merchants were captured in Constan-tinople, one could conclude that the scholar had year 1221 in mind, but hisnote could very well have a general and not precise feature. The same case isfor Patricia Fortini Brown’s proposal, when she notes that our chronicle had beenwritten in the lifetime of those that participated to the pace in Venice of 117734.A larger proposal is given by A. Carile, who speaks about the first half of the13th century35, or by F. Makk (the beginning of the 13th century)36 and R. L. Wolff(much later after 1204)37. R. Cessi also advanced the unlikely version of a dat-ing subsequent to Andrea Dandolo’s Brevis38, and this option was rightfully regard-ed that “non abbia fondamento”39 or that “non sembrano in realtà giustificati”40

and also rejected by L. A. Berto41, as more as the same Roberto Cessi42 had agreedon another occasion with the attributing of the manuscript in the 13th century.

One should also note the additional mention of G. Cracco, according to whomthe author, writing therefore during the following Doge, that is Giacomo Tiepolo(1229-1249), does not mention this doge anywhere, not even in the prologue43.It is a question mark that still remains unclear.

However, this note does not clarify the dating respect. Practically, there isthe unique certitude that it could be about a work written before Pietro Zianionly if we would admit that the part referring to the period previous to SebastianoZiani be a completely different work than the succinct details about the end ofthe Fourth Crusade and P. Ziani’s dogeship. Without proofs and confronted withthe only manuscript of that period that we have at our disposal, we are notable to launch in such hypotheses. Therefore, we join the still reserved opinionexpressed by the last editor, L. A. Berto, when he notes that “per quanto con-cerne la data di composizione dell’opera, non c’è alcun elemento che ci possa indicarecon sicurezza quando fu scritta”44. Indeed, the work does not offer any elementable to point out that it was destined to come to an end in that manner and inthat moment45.

POWER, BELIEF AND IDENTITY • 11

One should not neglect that the part of the chronicle inserted after the lacu-na in the dogeship of Pietro Ziani does not provide that richness of details thathad characterized it while referring to the events previous to Sebastiano Ziani.Practically, sometimes one could have the feeling that it is about a simple addi-tion put down from a stroke of the pen and only episodically. The chronicler doesnot mention Rainieri Dandolo’s military actions in Morea and Crete46. The Venetiancommanders in the other actions in Eastern Mediterranean are not also men-tioned47. At the same time, the ceremonies in Treviso that led to the conflictwith the Paduans in the period of the same P. Ziani is treated only succinctly,although the chronicler could very well resort – as Andrea Dandolo would dolater – to the extremely detailed work written in the same 13th century by Rolandinoda Padova48. As a contemporary of all these events, the author of Historia Du-cum could be acquainted with the events or even have the possibility the findthem through the agency of other characters, eventually eye witnesses. Halfexpressed, Berto’s conclusion is about the doubt that our chronicler be con-temporary with Pietro Ziani. Therefore, we ask ourselves, how could be thathe was so detailed in narrating the previous events? Where could we place thisauthor? Going even further, we bring into discussion the fact that neither Martinoda Canal was contemporary to the Venetian maritime campaigns when he men-tioned the galley’s commanders and also the fact that Andrea Dandolo wroteat more than one century after the episode of the confrontation against Paduaand spared no detail about it.

Confronted with this strange fact, we could only refer to the chronicler’s stateof mind, who, in a first moment, was in an impressive writing progress. Thereafter,exactly when dealing with the events contemporary to him, either the sickness oranother personal reason made him to note only episodically and by chance.

Certainly, we do not contest the placing of the author in the times of GiacomoTiepolo’s dogeship. However, the argument advanced by L. A. Berto – that is,the lack of critics against the commoner forces put into connection to this doge’speriod that witnesses to the commoners’ power49 - should not be overestimat-ed, since it originates in premises assumed by modern scholars.

As for the dating, we would rather take into consideration the note expressedby G. Arnaldi and L. Capo, according to whom Historia Ducum, when dealingwith Doge Domenico Michiel’s campaign in the Holy Land in 1122-1123,uses the expression of “nefanda gens Saracenorum, que tempore illo civitatem Tyriet Ascalonis adhuc possidebat”50, which indicates that it ignores the conquest ofthe two cities by the ‘infidels’ in 1292 and respectively in 1247. Therefore, thedating of the chronicle should be established previous to this latter date51, there-fore also in G. Tiepolo’s times.

Nevertheless, there is nothing to impede us to still speak about two phasesof work. First it is an optimistic stage, written right in the period of P. Ziani,


which intended to become a panegyric for this doge and which was not accom-plished because of the doge’s death. In doge’s absence, the chronicler contin-ued during the following doge to put down various facts, but in a more sum-marized style. Perhaps this hypothesis could be an explanation for the lacunain the chronicle, since the differences in approach and quantitative informationare separated exactly by this lacuna.

Paternity

T HE OPINION of the scholars that have dealt with Historia Ducum is unan-imous in considering it as anonymous, a fact clearly expressed by someof them52. At the same time, the chronicler has been awarded with the

honorific title of “il primo autore dell’epoca comunale”53 and the work has beenappreciated as being written by “un uomo di indubbia intelligenza e con una noncomune capacità di sintetizzare e ordinare gli avvenimenti secondo la logica scelta”54.

Certainly, having no sure data about the author, one could speculate end-lessly, by taking some political options out of the chronicle itself. We refer herefirst and foremost to his invoked approach to the dogal milieu, consequent to themagnifying of the dogal position along the entire chronicle, the chronicler be-ing regarded as spokesman of the political group in power55.

A few decades ago, Giorgio Cracco proposed Gesta Veneticorum per duces astitle for our chronicle56. Certainly, in absence of any sign in this sens of themanuscript at disposal, any proposal of such a kind could be available. But Craccobuilds afterwards an entire theory about the magnifying of the dogal regime,which he sees as basis for the entire text57. Starting from the rhetorical ques-tion “ma perché tanto entusiasmo per la Venezia ducale?”, Giorgio Cracco begins hisdemonstration: “È noto che questa fu una realtà dei secoli X-XI, mentre l’epocasuccessive, quell ache il cronista abbraccia con la sua narrazione, conobbe un’altraVenezia, quella comunale, in cui il crescente peso politico di nuove forze, quelle deigiudici e dei Sapienti, riuscì a circoscrivere gradualmente ma inesorabilmente l’on-nipotenza del duca”58. After he describes the institutional stages of this process –the establishment of the Consilium Sapientum in 1143, the foundation of the GreatCouncil, the doge’s duty to swear the dogal promising as act for his acceptanceof the dogal function, the power’s enlargement and assignment among variousstructures according to the constitutional law in 1207 – the modern scholar con-cludes that “agli inizi del secolo XIII il doge non era più un principe assoluto, maun magistrate del comune”59. As for the chronicler, he says that “i casi sono due: oil cronista è un solitario laudator temporis acti, un uomo sorpassato dagli avvenimenti,privo di aggancio vitale con la realtà del suo tempo, e allora la sua Historia è pocorappresentativa, e scade quasi a documento privato; oppure è un uomo di battaglia, che


lotta, con possibilità di successo, per affermare una sua concezione politica; e allora laHistoria è prova importante di una rinascita della Venezia ducale” and that “lafigura di Pietro Ziani, che è al centro della Historia, può sciogliere questa alternati-va”60. In the same note is Dorit Raines’ consideration, by concluding as a finaljudgment that Historia Ducum, “redatta nell’età comunale, riflette lo spirito e le ansiedel ceto delle grandi famiglie che, al tempo del doge Pietro Ziani e soprattutto deopola sua scomparsa, si sentivano assediate dai popolari e minacciate nei loro diritti”61.

On his turn, L. A. Berto specifies that, “per quanto concerne l’elogio rivolto aidogi, si deve rilevare che in molti casi le opere storiche medievali narrano solamente leimprese dei governanti e che nel XIII secolo il doge, nonostante non avesse più il potereparagonabile a quello dei suoi predecessori dei secoli IX-XI, non può essere certo assim-ilato allo status dei magistrati che governavano le città dell’Italia settentrionale; la loroesaltazione assume perciò un significato diverso da quello che invece avrebbe in un’ipotet-ica opera di un centro urbano della vicina terraferma nella quale fossero elogiatisolamente i propri governanti”62.

Beside this punctual analysis of L. A. Berto, we cannot refrain from asking our-selves: on which basis Giorgio Cracco or Dorit Raines decide a sudden cessionof the Dogal era and a same sudden beginning of the communal one? We donot contest that an analyze of the context is necessary, that the features of the Italian13th century – with its tendency to explain everything with political tools – andof the urban historiography should be taken into account63, but to establish ter-minologies and concepts typical for the modern point of view to the medieval textsseems a forced undertaking once again. Indeed, Cracco has his own thesis to besustained, namely the one referring to Andrea Dandolo, in whom he regards a‘revolter’ against his own times, and the considerations regarding Historia Ducumcould very well prepare the ground for this demonstration. But the argument thatthe narrative structure relying upon the doges would represent the basis of this‘revolt’ makes us think about the fact that this structural type would persistalong the all subsequent Venetian chronicles, a fact that leads us to the ques-tion: were indeed all the Venetian chronicles a kind of ‘revolters’?

Thus, we are close to the partial verdict offered by L. A. Berto, who consid-ers that “si tratta di una tesi senza dubbio suggestive e molto articolata, ma ha la carat-teristica di basarsi su basi molto deboli”64. We are also along Berto when he regardsthat the only certain data in Cracco’s thesis is the magnifying of the doges,while “tutte le alter supposizioni sono state fatte solamente sulla base dello studio deiproblemi di quell’epoca, spiegazioni ammissibili per quell periodo storico, ma non nec-essariamente applicabili all’Historia ducum Venetorum”65.

Going even further, Berto considers that Historia Ducum’s clue is not actu-ally the magnifying of the doges’ facts, but that the eulogizing of Venice itselfand of all the Venetians is not generally absent. A good example is right in theprologue, where the anonymous chronicler emphasizes that God has always offered


honors, wealth and glory to the Venetians66. At the same time, the will to empha-size the harmony existing in Venice is also noted67. But the same Berto ends byinsisting upon the commendations of each doge68 and, even more than this, uponthe fact that Piero Ziani is the one who gathers all the best features69. This lastfact led G. Cracco to regard the chronicler as “il portavoce” of this particular doge70,with the result that “mai in precedenza un doge era stato esaltato in termini così ampie quasi universali”71. More than this, L. A. Berto seems to take refuge beyondG. Cracco’s considerations when he says that “il suo [Historia Ducum’s author,emphasis mine] interesse solamente per i dogi e l’assenza di riferimenti all’emergeredella Venezia comunale rivelerebbe ciò ed evidenzierebbe che lottava per affermare lasua concezione politica [...]”72, thus proposing a sudden separation by the pas-sage from ‘Dogal Venice’ to ‘communal Venice’.

As we mentioned above, Berto also refers to this direction when he makesan attempt to demonstrate that, due to the lack of several events dealing with thisdoge, the chronicler would intend to do not allow other characters to overshadowPietro Ziani. Thus, from this point of view, Berto returns, not to a significantextent, to previous opinions of Cracco, who noticed, because of this absence ofany referral to Doge Giacomo Tiepolo, that the chronicler seems to suggest that,“come se con la morte di questi [Ziani’s, emphasis mine] fosse tramontata, comple-ta, la grandezza della patria”73.

It was also raised the question whether it is about an ecclesiastic characteras Historia Ducum’s chronicler74. Continuing to rely upon the text itself, Bertorejects in a first instance this assertion, for the reason that the chronicle doesnot mention supernatural phenomena and the quotations from the Holy Scripturesare also absent75. However, he later adopts a more malleable solution, saying that“tale assenza si verifica […], anche nell’Istoria Veneticorum di Giovanni Fiacono,il quale [...], era il cappellano del doge Pietro II Orseolo”76. Anyhow, it is certitudethat the presence of Divinity is neither more consistent nor more reduced thanin the other Venetian chronicles. On the other side, the chronicle that claims itselffrom Patriarch Giovanni Tiepolo77 does not provide a greater abundance of super-natural elements or divine interventions. That is why we have serious reservesin attributing a certain Venetian chronicle to a clergyman or to a layman. It isas more as a clear distinction between these two categories could not be doneas long as the high patriarchal and bishopric positions also belonged to membersof the Venetian patricians. Therefore, the examples that Berto continues toprovide in order to demonstrate the presence of the divine element – God’sand St Mark’s grace for the Venetian military victories, God’s will interveningin the anti-Paduan war in 1215, Pietro Ziani’s religiosity)78, although useful, couldnot direct to this conclusion.

As a matter of fact, the only testimony for the chronicler’s intention is the pro-logue, in which he wishes to narrate the events occurred under the doges’ com-


mandment and their facts: “honestum duximus et ratione dignum, ut ex pluribusque retroab annis multis sub ducibus Venecie et per duces, Deo propicio, facta fuisse noscuntur.”79.

Title

A S FOR the title, in the absence of a precise sign in the manuscript, H.Simonsfeld proposed the name of Historia Ducum Veneticorum in his edi-tion. It is the title that has been imposed, being taken as such by all those

scholars that have studied the chronicle, including by G. Cracco, despite hisproposal for Gesta Veneticorum per duces80. Recently, the new editor L. A. Bertoadvances a small change, transforming Veneticorum in Venetorum, with a rea-sonable explanation, that is that the Venetians in this work are constantly namedas Veneti, and not as Venetici81.

Sources

L. A. BERTO emphasizes that, according to the prologue, Historia Ducum’schronicler wished to narrate the events taken over from the annals, theaccount of some maiores, along with the facts occurred in his times82.

However, the conclusion is that “non si conoscono quali fonti erano a disposizione delcronista e quindi non si può fare alcuna analisi su come operò su di esse”83. Nevertheless,various connections were attempted. R. Cessi and F. Bennato, the editors ofthe chronicle attributed to Piero Giustinian84, had advanced the hypothesis of adependence of Historia Ducum on Andrea Dandolo’s Brevis85, at least partly;but this dependence, which supposes a new discussion about the dating, provedto be groundless86. It has been also noticed the fact that the terminal point ofthe doges’ catalogue from the first writing of Origo chronicle is the dogeshipof Vitale I Michiel (1086-1102), the doge previous to Ordelaffo Falier (1102-1118) – meaning the doge where Historia Ducum starts its narrative –, a detailthat has led to the supposition that our test represented nothing more than anaddition to Origo87. However, this direction was rather underestimated, althoughin a certain moment L. A. Berto, more reserved in ultimate conclusions, under-lines that the referring to the dogeship of O. Falier as starting point would bedetermined by the sources that the anonymous chronicler had at his disposal88.As for the connection with the Altinate chronicle, A. Carile underlines some sim-ilarities and differences when dealing with some events during the Fourth Crusade89,but he does not take a fact into account, although he mentions it in a certainmoment90: that is that the dogeship of Enrico Dandolo (1192-1204) was not


preserved, so that the Italian scholar relies for these details upon VenetiarumHistoria, inserted in H. Simonsfeld’s edition, and not exactly upon Historia Ducum.

It has been noted that the pattern of presenting the events by relying upondogeships had been imposed by Giovanni Diacono91. However, even when lea-ving aside the doubts about this method followed by Historia Ducum’s chroni-cler92, this could not demonstrate any influence of Diacono’s chronicle.

In a certain moment, Gina Fasoli spoke about the existence of a Venetianchronicle dealing with the Fourth Crusade and that Historia Ducum’s authorwould take into consideration, along with Andrea Dandolo93. Plausible, the hypoth-esis is still to general and leads us nowhere, as more as the first part of thisevent is absent in our chronicle. Moreover, we ask ourselves whether that pas-sage of Historia Ducum, now lost, would be used by the following Venetian chron-icles. On the contrary, R. Cessi spoke about a possible connection with AnnalesVenetici breves, noticing some reminiscences of this latter upon Historia Ducum,when dealing with the Dalmatian campaign in 111594.

On his turn, A. Carile proposes in a certain moment a comparison with thechronicler written by Boncompagno de Signa95, with regard to the siege of Anconaby Emperor Frederic I Barbarossa96, while R. L. Wolff notices the fact that theexpressions used by our chronicle are exactly those in the Byzantine documentswhen referring to the events in the 12th century97.

Relying strictly upon the text, we would notice the author’s intention to referto documents. It is about the list of those that participated to the Peace Congressin 1177 in Venice98 and, as a non-accomplished promising, the text of the pact con-cluded between Venetians and non-Venetians under the walls of Constantinople:“tale pactum inter se fecerunt, quale scriptum invenies inferius”99. These two exam-ples convinced G. Arnaldi and L. Capo to consider that the practice of using thedocuments be outlined just since Historia Ducum100, but this detail does not resolveat all the matter raised by the chronicler himself when he speaks in his prologueabout referring strictly to the annals, and not to the documents.

Influences

I T WAS mentioned when dealing with the text of Historia Ducum that “vieneusato dalle generazioni successive come base per alter compilazioni”101, but wi-thout any additional detail.

G. Arnaldi and L. Capo conclude that Alberto Limentani, in his edition of thechronicle of Martino da Canal, does not count Historia Ducum among the sourcesfor Martino102. Nevertheless, Canal’s editor still notes on another occasion that“alcuni altri pochi elementi [from Martino da Canal, emphasis mine] sembrano rica-


vati dalla Historia Ducum Veneticorum”103, and when editing Martino he evenoffers in the introduction some short comparative passage between the two chron-icles, referring to the doges Ordelaffo Falier (1102-1118), Domenico Michiel(1118-1129), Domenico Morosini (1148-1156) and Vitale II Michiel (156-1172)104, not discerned by Arnaldi and Capo. Limentani’s conclusion convergesto the underlining of some method differences between these chronicles105.

It has been more noticed about the influence that our chronicle would haveupon Andrea Dandolo’s two chronicles, written a century later106. As a matterof facts, this influence should be focused upon only one point, that is the tak-ing over almost ad litteram of a passage from the prologue of Historia Ducumto chronicler-doge’s short chronicle (Brevis), first noticed by E. Pastorello107

and then by other scholars108. The more simple version in Brevis, meaning thecancellation of the expression of “quedam narrantibus ...”, that had had a sense inHistoria Ducum, is due to the fact it could not find its place in Andrea Dandolo’sshort chronicle109. The subsequent comparisons between these two works, offeredby G. Arnaldi, let to conclude that they follow different paths and the movingoff of Brevis from Historia Ducum becomes obvious. For instance, Brevis expelsthe dogeship of Vitale II Michiel only 16 rows, while Historia Ducum extendsthis dogeship to exactly five pages110.

It is therefore for certain that Andrea Dandolo, when beginning to work onBrevis, had our chronicle in front of him, although he would renounce quicklyto it. This dependence relationship makes A. Carile to invoke Historia Ducum’sinfluence also upon the entire A family of chronicles111. The scholar also noticeshow the words in the prologue of Historia Ducum would pass in the followinganonymous chronicles, both those written in Latin and in vulgar Venetian afterthe 14th century112 and offers a textual comparative analysis between HistoriaDucum, Brevis and the supposed “anonimo del 1350”113.

It was also the proceeding adopted by H. Simonsfeld when completing thelacuna in Historia Ducum by the text of another chronicle114 to prove the edi-tor’s conviction about the similarities between the two works and therefore thedependence of what we call nowadays as Venetiarum Historia on Historia Ducum.Roberto Cessi offered a punctual analysis when, by underlining that this influ-ence would be among the most notable115, he presented an impressive list ofthe similarities between the two chronicles116, but finally concluding that “comunquela parte maggiore della narrazione [from Venetiarum Historia, emphasis mine] èdesunta dalla cronaca estesa del Dandolo”117. To the same extent, L. A. Berto noticesmany passages as being similar between these two works and concludes thatHistoria Ducum would be a source for the chronicle attributed to Piero Giustinian,although the latter does never follow ad litteram the text of the former and insome cases resorts to other sources118.


The considerations regarding the structure on dogeship of the narrative in theDandolian texts and in our chronicle should not be regarded as direct influences119,since it is about general respects and especially because this structure represent-ed a quasi-general feature of all the Venetian chronicles, with the notable excep-tion of Lorenzo de’ Monaci’s chronicle120.

As for us, we placed Historia Ducum in category 1 of chronicles, along withthe chronicles M 2571 and M 2581 from Biblioteca Marciana121, when refer-ring to the episodes of the arrival of the crusader ambassadors in Venice122 andof the election of Marquis of Montferrat as commander of the crusade123. Certainly,it represented an error from our side, since, relying upon Simonsfeld’s edition,the text did not belong to our chronicle (passage now lost), but was nothingmore than an excerpt from Venetiarum Historia124.

* * *

T HE PRESENT paper has in intention to clarify some more or less contro-versial respects with regard to a particular Venetian chronicle, that isthe anonymous Historia Ducum Venetorum. Far of having the preten-

sion to offer a definite answer to all these respects, we are aware that the solu-tions we present here could on their turn be new questions with regard to thiswriting. That is why we make an attempt to offer as more as possible variousopinions expressed in time by scholars that have more or less tangentially dealtwith Venetiarum Historia. In addition, we express here our own viewpointsconcerning the subsequent respects: manuscripts, editions, dating, (supposed)paternity, title, and its possible sources and influences.

�

Notes

1. Gina Fasoli, La Cronique des Veniciens di Martino da Canal”, “Studi medievali”,third series, 2 (1961), 1, p. 42-74 (49); Girolamo Arnaldi and Lidia Capo, I cro-nisti di Venezia e della Marca Trevigiana dalle origini alla fine del secolo XIII, înStoria della cultura veneta. Dalle origini al Trecento, Vicenza, 1976, p. 387-423 [here-after, Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I] (394 note 24 and 408 note 102); Luigi AndreaBerto, in Testi storici veneziani (XI-XII secolo). Historia ducum Veneticorum. AnnalesVenetici breves. Domenico Tino, Relatione de electione Dominici Silvi Venetorumducis, Padua, 2000 [1999], p. ix, x; Guillaume Saint-Guillain, Les conquerants del’Archipel. L’empire latin de Constantinople, Venise et les premiers seigneurs des Cyclades,


in Quarta crociata. Venezia-Bisanzio-Impero latino (edited by Gherardo Ortalli, GiorgioRavegnani, Peter Schreiner), I, Venice, 2006, p. 125-237 (130).

2. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 394 note 24; G. Saint-Guillain, op. cit., p. 130.3. Dorit Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico del patriziato: la cronaca «di consultazione»

veneziana nei secoli XIV-XV”, “Archivio Veneto”, fifth series, 150 (1998), p. 5-57(11 note 22).

4. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 408 note 102; L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xxv.5. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 408 note 102.6. D. Raines, op. cit., p. 11 note 22.7. Ibidem.8. L. A. Berto, op. cit., p. xxv. For Sante della Valentina (1748-1826), about whom

Emmanuele Antonio Cicogna, Saggio di bibliografia veneziana, Venice, 1847, p. 507appreciates that had been one of the Venetian distinguished priests, see Necrologiadi don Sante della Valentina cappellano della Scuola di S. Rocco, scritta dall’ab. D. PietroBettio bibliotecario della Marciana, Venice, 1826.

9. E. A. Cicogna, Delle iscrizioni veneziane, I, II, IV-VI, Bologna, 1982 [anastatic reprintof Venice, 1824, 1827, 1834, 1842, 1853], IV, p. 588-593, apud L. A. Berto,loc. cit., p. xxv.

10. A[ngelo] Zon, Memorie intorno alla venuta di papa Alessandro III, in E. A. Cicogna,Delle iscrizioni veneziane, IV, p. 588, apud L. A. Berto, loc.cit., p. xxx note 119.

11. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xxv.12. Ibidem; see also Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 396.13. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xxv.14. Ibidem, p. xxvi.15. E. A. Cicogna, Delle iscrizioni veneziane, IV, p. 588-593.16. L. A. Berto, op. cit., p. xxv.17. Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores, XIV, p. 72-97.18. G. Saint-Guillain, Les conquerants de l’Archipel, p. 130 note 12.19. Stuttgart-New York, 1963 apud Giorgio Cracco, Un “altro mondo”. Venezia nel medio-

evo. Dal secolo XI al secolo XIV, Turin, 1986, p. 14 note 2.20. For this chronicle, see Venetiarum Historia vulgo Petro Iustiniano Iustiniani filio adi-

udicata (edited by Roberto Cessi and Fanny Bennato), Venice, 1964; see also AntonioCarile, Note di cronachistica veneziana: Piero Giustinian e Nicolò Trevisan, “StudiVeneziani”, 9 (1967), p. 103-125 (110-118); idem, La cronachistica veneziana (sec-oli XIII-XVI) di fronte alla spartizione della Romania nel 1204, Florence, 1969, p.38-43; idem, Aspetti della cronachistica veneziana nei secoli XIII e XIV, in La storiografiaveneziana fino al secolo XVI. Aspetti e problemi (edited by Agostino Pertusi), Florence,1970 [hereafter, La storiografia veneziana] , p. 75-126 (passim); Arnaldi-Capo, Icronisti II, p. 297-307; ªerban V. Marin, Some Considerations regarding the AnonymousVenetiarum Historia (14th Century), “Historical Yearbook” 7 (2010), p. 177-194.

21. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 396 note 35.22. Donald M. Nicol, La quarta Crociata (translated by Patrizia Colombani), in Storia

di Venezia. Dalle origini alla caduta della Serenissima, II: L’età del comune (editedby Giorgio Cracco and Gherardo Ortalli), Rome, 1995, p. 155-181 (178).


23. Testi storici veneziani (XI-XII secolo). Historia ducum Veneticorum. Annales Veneticibreves. Domenico Tino, Relatione de electione Dominici Silvi Venetorum ducis,Padua, 2000 [1999], p. 2-83.

24. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xxvi.25. Ibidem.26. Ibidem, p. xxvii. This change, previously used also by G. Fasoli, La Cronique des

Veniciens, p. 49, 56 note 45, has been taken over by the most recent scholars,like for instance G. Saint-Guillain, op. cit., passim.

27. Ugo Balzani, Le cronache italiane nel medio evo, Milan, 1900 [1884], p. 280 (althoughthe scholar spoke about Sebastiano, and not Pietro Ziani); Giorgio Cracco, Società eStato nel medioevo veneziano (secoli XII-XIV), Florence, 1967, p. 91; Idem, Il pensierostorico di fronte al problemi del comune veneziano, in La storiografia veneziana, p. 45-74 (46); cf. Antonio Carile, Aspetti della cronachistica veneziana, p. 77; GirolamoArnaldi, Andrea Dandolo doge-cronista, in La storiografia veneziana, p. 127-268 (139note 2); A. Carile, Federico Barbarossa, i Veneziani e l’assedio di Ancona del 1173. Contributoalla storia politica e sociale della città nel secolo XII, “Studi Veneziani”, 16 (1974), p.3-31 (5 note 11); Eric Cochrane, Historians and Historiography in the Italian Renaissance,Chicago-London, 1981, p. 62; G. Cracco, Dandolo, Enrico, in Dizionario Biograficodegli Italiani, 32, Rome, 1986, p. 450-458 (454) (although the scholar proposesthe unverified hypothesis that the author had also met Doge Enrico Dandolo); GherardoOrtalli, I cronisti e la determinazione di Venezia città”, in Storia di Venezia, II, p. 761-782 (765); G. Cracco, L’età del comune, in Storia di Venezia, II, p. 1-30 (13, “verso il1230”); D. Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico, p. 11.

28. Elisabeth Crouzet-Pavan, Immagini di un mito (translated by Matteo Sanfilippo), inStoria di Venezia. Dalle origini alla caduta della Serenissima, IV: Il Rinascimento. Politicae cultura (edited by Alberto Tenenti and Ugo Tucci), Rome, 1996, p. 579-601(582); cf. Idem, Venise: une invention de la ville (XIIIe-XVe siècle), no place, 1997,p. 244.

29. D. Nicol, La quarta crociata, p. 178; Edward Muir, Idee, riti, simboli del potere (trans-lated by Cesare Borghi), in Storia di Venezia, II, p. 739-760 (752).

30. D. Nicol, op. cit., p. 178.31. Charles M. Brand, Byzantium confronts the West 1180-1204, Cambridge, Massachusetts,

1968, p. 290; Louise Buenger Robbert, Venetian Participation in the Crusade ofDamietta, “Studi Veneziani”, new series, 30 (1995), p. 15-33 (17).

32. G. Saint-Guillain, Les conquerants de l’Archipel, p. 130; the scholar notices thenthat our chronicle’s dating is under debate, but it seems beyond any doubt thatthe text is from the 13th century, ibidem, p. 130 note 13.

33. W[ilhelm] Heyd, Histoire du commerce du Levant au moyen-âge (French edition byFurcy Raynaud), I, Amsterdam, 1983 [anastatic reprint of Leipzig, 1885-1886], p.215.

34. P[atricia] Fortini Brown, Venice and Antiquity. The Venetian Sense of the Past [=http://www.yale.edu/yup/ chapters/067003chap.htm].

35. Antonio Carile, review of Ch. Brand, Byzantium, in “Studi Veneziani”, 11 (1969),p. 637-664 (645, 646 note 42); Idem, La marineria bizantina in Adriatico nei sec-


oli VI-XII, in Convegno di Studi “Adriatico mare dei molte genti incontro di civiltà”,Ravenna 25-26 febbraio-Cesenatico, 4-5 marzo 1995-Casa Matha 26 febbraio 1995,p. 1-47 [= http://www.dismec.unibo.it/master/immagini/Marineria%20bizanti-na.pdf] (41); see also Bruno Rosada, I secoli della letteratura veneta, December 2002[= http://www.provincia.venezia.ot/istruzione/ pubblicazioni/lett_veneta.pdf], p.10; see also Filippo de Vivo, Historical Justification of Venetian Power in Adriatic,“Journal of the History of Ideas”, 64 (2003), 2, p. 159-176 (162), who also speaksabout “the early thirteenth-century Historia Ducum Veneticorum”.

36. Ferenc Makk, The Árpáds and the Comneni: Political Relations Between Hungaryand Byzantium in the 12th Century, Budapest, 1989, p. 104.

37. Robert Lee Wolff, Romania: the Latin Empire of Constantinople, “Speculum”, 23(1948) [reprinted in Idem, Studies in the Latin Empire of Constantinople, London,1976: II], p. 1-34 (9).

38. Roberto Cessi, Prefazione, in Venetiarum Historia vulgo Pietro Iustiniani filio adiu-dicata (edited by Roberto Cessi and Fanny Bennato), Venice, 1964, p. xxxv-xxxvinote 21.

39. G. Arnaldi, Andrea Dandolo, p. 139 note 2.40. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 408 note 102.41. L. A. Berto, in Testi, p. xi.42. R. Cessi, Prefazione, in Origo Civitatem Italie seu Veneticorum (Chronicon Altinate

et Chronicon Gradense) (edited by Roberto Cessi), Rome, 1933, p. xi note 1.43. G. Cracco, Il pensiero storico, p. 50.44. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. x.45. Ibidem.46. Ibidem, p. x-xi; see Berto’s argument, according to which this absence should be con-

nected to the author’s wish to do not tell facts to glorify anyone else but Doge PietroZiani; however, the editor ignores the detail that in the end R. Dandolo’s mar-itime action ended unluckily, so that it could only harm the captain’s personality.

47. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xi; even here one could add the detail that this attitudewas not unique for P. Ziani’s dogeship, but it marks the whole text.

48. Rolandino, Cronica in factis et circa facta Marchie Trivixane (edited by Antonio Bonardi),Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, new series, VIII, 1, Città di Castello 1905, I, p. 13, apudL. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xi. Rolandino (Rolandinus) da Padova, Rolandino di Balaiardo(1200-1262 or 1276) on his real name, was the author of a chronicle written around1260, which represented a passionate defence of the Paduan communal libertiesagainst the Ghibelline Ezzelino (Eccelino) da Romano. See Rolandini Patavini Cronicain factis et circa facta marche Trivixiane (aa. 1200 cc.-1262) (edited by Antonio Bonardi),in Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, VIII, part I, Città di Castello, 1905. A recent bilin-gual edition (Latin-Italian) in Rolandino da Padova, Vita e morte di Ezzelino da Romano(Cronaca) (edited by Flavio Forese), Milan, 2004. For the chronicler, see also G.Arnaldi, Studi sui cronisti della Marca trevigiano nell’età di Ezzelino da Romano, Rome,1963; Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 411 ff.; Gina Fasoli, Un cronista e un tiranno:Rolandino da Padova e Ezzelino da Romano, “Rendiconti dell’Accademia delle Scienzedell’Istituto di Bologna”, 72 (1983-84), p. 25-48; Gianfelice Peron, Rolandino daPadova e la tradizione letteraria del castello d’amore, in Il castello d’amore. Treviso e la


civiltà cortese (edited by Luigina Bortolato), Treviso, 1986, p. 189-237; Luca Morlino,Una nuova edizione di Rolandino da Padova e una nuova interpretazione dell’affrescodi Bassano, “Cultura Neolatina”, 65 (2005), p. 363-370.

49. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xi-xii.50. Ed. Simonsfeld, p. 73; ed. Berto, p. 4.51. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 408 note 102.52. U. Balzani, Le cronache italiane, p. 279; G. Fasoli, Nascita di un mito, in Studi

storici in onore di Gioacchino Volpe per il suo 80o compleanno, I, Florence, 1958, p. 447-479 (465); R. Cessi, Venezia ducale, II, 1: Commune Venetiarum, Venice, 1965,p. 208; G. Cracco, Il pensiero storico, p. 46; Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 395, 396;G. Cracco, Un altro mondo, p. 69; Frederic C. Lane, review of A. Carile, La cronachis-tica veneziana and of La Storiografia veneziana, in “Speculum” 47 (1972), 2, p. 292-298 (293); G. Ortalli, I cronisti e la determinazione, p. 765; L. Buenger Robbert,Venetian Participation, p. 17; G. Cracco, L’età del comune, p. 13; L. A. Berto, loc.cit., p. x. Due to an error, Zvjezdan Strika, Zadar-novo nadbiskupsko i metropoljskosjedište Dalmacije u kontekstu politièkih prilika 12. stoljeæa, “ Croatica ChristianaPeriodica”, 52 (2004), p. 1-45 (6 note 20, 31 notes 118-120) connects this chron-icle with the name of Andrea Dandolo, while Corrado Argani, Condottieri, capitani,tribuni, 1931, p. 10 attributes it even to Enrico Dandolo!

53. G. Cracco, Il pensiero storico, p. 46.54. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 409; see also Ibidem, p. 409 note 107.55. See especially G. Cracco, op. cit., p. 46-50, but also Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 396;

D. Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico, p. 11, 12; G. Ortalli, I cronistie la deter-minazione, p. 765; B. Rosada, I secoli della letteratura, p. 10.

56. G. Cracco, op. cit., p. 46.57. Ibidem, p. 47-49; see also E. Crouzet-Pavan, Venise: une invention, p. 244.58. G. Cracco, op. cit., p. 47.59. Ibidem.60. G. Cracco, op. cit., p. 47-48; see also Idem, L’età del comune, p. 13, 14; Ed. Muir,

Idee, riti, simboli, p. 752.61. D. Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico, p. 12.62. L. A. Berto, in Testi, p. xii.63. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 409.64. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xii.65. Ibidem, p. xii; to a certain extent, the same considerations in L. Capo, Rassegna di

studi sulla cronachistica veneziana, “Bullettino dell’Istituto storico italiano per il MedioEvo”, 86 (1976-1977), p. 387-431 (403 note 1).

66. Ed. Berto, p. 1; see also L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xii.67. Ibidem, p. xiii-xiv.68. Ibidem, p. xiii, xv. An additional note in Stefano Gasparri, Dagli Orseolo al comune,

in Storia di Venezia, I: Origini – Età ducale (edited by Lellia Cracco Ruggini,Massimiliano Pavan, Giorgio Cracco and Gherardo Ortalli), Rome, 1992, p. 791-826 (816) for Doge Pietro Polani, who “è presentato dall’Historia Ducum [...]sotto una luce non solo favorevole, ma pacifica: un duca uomo di pace, dopo due duchi guer-rieri”.


69. Ed. Berto, p. 41-44; see also L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xiii, xvi; in the same sense,see also G. Cracco, L’età del comune, p. 13 (with examples).

70. G. Cracco, Un altro mondo, p. 69; in the same sens, see F. Lane, loc. cit., p. 293-294(the expression of “the anonymous associate of Pietro Ziani”).

71. G. Cracco, op. cit., p. 70.72. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xi.73. G. Cracco, Il pensiero storico, p. 50.74. Ibidem, p. 48.75. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. x.76. Ibidem.77. See Giovanni Tiepolo Patriarca di Venezia, Cronaca Veneta ad esso attribuita dall’anno

421 al 1524, Venice, Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, manuscript It. VII. 129 [=8323], 17th century.

78. Ed. Berto, p. 43; see also L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. x.79. Ed. Simonsfeld, p. 72; see also D. Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico, p. 11.80. G. Cracco, op. cit., p. 46.81. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. xxvii. R. L. Wolff, Romania, p. 9 manifested preference

for Venetorum.82. Ed. Berto, p. 1; see also L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. x.83. Ibidem, p. xv.84. For this chronicle, see above, note 20.85. For the chronicles of Doge Andrea Dandolo, see Andreae Danduli, Chronica bre-

vis, in Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, 12, part I (edited by Ester Pastorello), Bologna,1938, p. 351-373 and Andreae Danduli Duci Veneticorum Chronica per extensiumdescripta aa. 46-1280 d. C., in Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, 12 (edited by EsterPastorello), Bologna, 1923, p. 5-327; see also Enrico Simonsfeld, Andrea Dandoloe le sue opere storiche (translated by Benedetto Morossi), “Archivio Veneto”, 14 (1877),part I, p. 49-149; Antonio Carile, La cronachistica veneziana, passim; GirolamoArnaldi, Andrea Dandolo; Idem and Lidia Capo, I cronisti di Venezia e della MarcaTrevigiana, în Storia della cultura veneta, 2: Il Trecento, Vicenza, 1976, p. 272-307[hereafter, Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti II] (especially 287-289); Franco Gaeta, Storiografia,coscienza nazionale e politica culturale nella Venezia del Rinascimento, in Storia dellacultura Veneta dal primo quattrocento al Concilio di Trento, 3/I, Vicenza, 1980, p.1-91 (11-16); Giorgio Ravegnani, Dandolo, Andrea, in Dizionario Biografico degliItaliani, 32, Rome, 1986, p. 432-440; Claudio Finzi, “Scritti storici-politici”, inStoria di Venezia. Dalle origini alla caduta della Serenissima, III: La formazione delloStato patrizio (edited by Girolamo Arnaldi, Giorgio Cracco, Alberto Tenenti), Rome,1997, p. 825-864 (854-857).

86. G. Arnaldi, Andrea Dandolo, p. 139; Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 408 note 102.87. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 397. For Altinate Chronicle (or Origo) and its man-

uscripts, see Anon., La cronaca veneta detta Altinate di autore anonimo in latino (edit-ed by Antonio Rossi), “Archivio Storico Italiano”, 8 (1845), p. 20-22, 41-61,81-103, 116-129, 152-184, 192-198, 204-216, 220-228; Anon., Cronichon Venetumvulgo Altinate quod prius editum an. MDCCCXLV iuxta codicem Patriarch. VenetiSeminarii denuo prodit ex ms. codice Reg. Bibliothecae Dresdensis (edited by L[uigi]


Polidori), “Archivio Storico Italiano”, V (1847), appendix, p. 12-128; Anon.,Chronicon Venetum quod vulgo dicunt Altinate (edited by H. Simonsfeld), in MonumentaGermaniae Historiae, Scriptores, XIV, Hannover, 1883, p. 5-69; Origo Civitatem Italieseu Veneticorum (Chronicon Altinate et Chronicon Gradense) (edited by R. Cessi),Rome, 1933; see also H[einrich] Simonsfeld, Venetianische Studien, I: Das ChroniconAltinate, Munich, 1878; Enrico Simonsfeld, La Cronaca Altinate (translated byC. S. Rosada), “Archivio Veneto”, IX, tom XVIII, part II (1879), p. 235-273; X,tom XIX, part I (1880), p. 54-71; XI, tom XXI, part II (1881), p. 167-202;Idem, Appendice agli studi sulla Cronaca Altinate, “Archivio Veneto”, XII, tom XXIV,part I (1882), p. 111-131; Idem, Sulle scoperte del Dott. Roberto Galli nella CronacaAltinate. Risposta del Dott. Enrico Simonsfeld, “Archivio Veneto”, XXXV (1888), p.117-134; Enrico Besta, I trucchi della cosidetta cronaca altinate, “Atti del Reale IstitutoVeneto di scienze, lettere ed arti”, LXXIV, (1914-15), 2, p. 1275-1330; RobertoCessi, Studi sopra la composizione del cosidetto «Chronicon Altinate», “Bullettinodell’Istituto Storico Italiano e Archivio Muratoriano”, 49 (1933), p. 1-116; LorenzoMinio-Paluello, Il «Chronicon Altinate» e Giacomo Veneto, in Miscellanea in onore diRoberto Cessi, I, Rome, 1958, p. 153-169; Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 393-395;Bruno Rosada, Storia di una cronaca. Un secolo di studi sul Chronicon Altinate,“Quaderni Veneti”, 7 (1988), p. 155-180.

88. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. ix.89. A. Carile, La cronachistica veneziana (secoli XIII-XVI) di fronte alla spartizione della

Romania nel 1204, Florence, 1969, p. 176, 185.90. Ibidem, p. 176 nota 4.91. L. A. Berto, loc. cit., p. ix. For this/these chronicle(s), see Chronicon venetum omni-

um quæ circumferuntur vetustissimum et Johanni … (edited by Girolamo FrancescoZanetti), Venice, 1765; Iohannis Diaconi chronicon Venetum usque ad a. 1008 (edit-ed Hans Georg Pertz), in Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores, VII, Hannover,1846, p. 4-38; Giovanni Diacono, in Cronache veneziane antichissime (edited byGiovanni Monticolo), I, Rome, 1890, p. 59-171; Cronaca veneziana di Giovannidiacono (edited by Mario De Biasi), I-II, 1986, 1988; Giovanni Diacono, HistoriaVeneticorum (edited by Luigi Andrea Berto), Bologna, 1999; see also GiambattistaMonticolo, Intorno agli studi fatti sulla Cronaca del Diacono Giovanni, “ArchivioVeneto”, tom XV (1878), part I, p. 1-45; XVII (1879), p. 35-73; Idem, La cronacadel diacono Giovanni e la storia politica di Venezia sino al 1009, “Archivio Veneto”, 25(1883), p. 1-22; Idem, I manoscritti e le fonti della cronaca del diacono Giovanni,“Bullettino dell’Istituto Storico italiano”, 8 (1889), p. 37-328; Enrico Besta, Sullacomposizione della cronaca veneziana attribuita al diacono Giovanni, “Atti del RealeIstituto Veneto di scienze, lettere ed arti”, LXXIII (1913-14), 2, p. 775-802; Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 391-393; Bruno Rosada, Il Chronicon Venetum di Giovanni dia-cono, “Ateneo Veneto”, CLXXVII [= XXVIII, new series], 1990, p. 79-94; LuigiAndrea Berto, Diacono, Giovanni, in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, 56, Rome,2001, p. 8-10; Idem, Il vocabolario politico e sociale della “Istoria Veneticorum” di GiovanniDiacono, Padua, 2001; Idem, La guerra e la violenza nella Istoria Veneticorum diGiovanni Diacono, “Studi Veneziani”, new series, XLII (2001), p. 15-41.

92. Doubts expressed by Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti II, p. 291.


93. G. Fasoli, La Cronique des Veniciens, p. 57.94. R. Cessi, Venezia ducale, p. 203 note 3. For this chronicle, see Anon., Annales Venetici

breves (edited by H. Simonsfeld), în Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores, XIV,Hannover, 1883, p. 69-72; Anon., Annales Venetici breves, in Testi Storici Veneziani(XI-XIII secolo) (edited by Luigi Andrea Berto), Padua, 2000 [1999]; see also Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 394.

95. For Boncompagno de Signa’s work, see Boncompagni Liber de obsidione Ancone(A. 1173) (edited by Giulio C. Zimolo), Bologna, 1937; Boncompagno da Signa,L’assedio di Ancona. Liber de obsidione Anconae (edited by Paolo Garbini), Rome,1999 [Padua, 1996]; another edition delivered by Steven M. Wright, inhttp://dobc.unipv.it/scrineum/wight/obsid.htm, 1998; see also J. K. Hyde, Societyand Politics in Medieval Italy, London, 1973, 87-89; Il pensiero e l’opera di Boncompagnoda Signa (edited by Massimo Baldini), Signa, 2002.

96. A. Carile, La marineria bizantina, p. 30.97. R. L. Wolff, Romania, p. 9 note 35.98. Ed. Simonsfeld, p. 84-89; ed. Berto, p. 55-67.99. Ed. Simonsfeld, p. 94 (actually, it is about the completion operated by the editor

from the chronicle attributed to Pietro Giustinian).100. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 396.101. D. Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico, p. 12.102. Arnaldi-Capo, I cronisti I, p. 395 note 34. For this chronicle, see maistre Martin

da Canal, La Cronique des Veniciens (edited by Filippo-Luigi Polidori, translatedby Conte Giovanni Galvani), “Archivio Storico Italiano”, 8 (1845), p. 268-707;Martino da Canal, Les estoires de Venise. Cronaca veneziana in lingua francese dalleorigini al 1275 (edited by Alberto Limentani), Florence, 1972; Martin da Canal, LesEstoires de Venise (translated by Laura K. Morreale), Padua, 2009; see also PauletteCatel, Studi sulla lingua della “Cronique des Veniciens”, “Rendiconti dell’IstitutoLombardo di Scienze, Lettere e Arti, Classe di Lettere”, 71 (1938-1939), p. 305-348 and 73 (1940), p. 39-63; Gina Fasoli, La Cronique des Veniciens; AgostinoPertusi, Maistre Martino de Canal interprete cortese delle crociate e dell’ambiente venezianodel secolo XIII, in Storia della civiltà veneziana (edited by Vittore Branca), I: Dalleorigini al secolo di Marco Polo, Florence, 1979, p. 279-295 [first edition, in Veneziadalla prima crociata alla presa di Costantinopoli del 1204, Florence, 1965, p. 105-135];Alberto Limentani, “Martino” e “Marino” nell’onomastica veneziana (a proposito delcronista Martino da Canal), “Rivista di Cultura Classica e Medioevale”, 7 (1965)[= Studi in onore di Alfredo Schiaffini], p. 614-627; Idem, Cinque note su Martinoda Canal, “Atti dell’Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti”, 124 (1965-66),p. 261-285; Idem, Martino da Canal e l’Oriente Mediterraneo, in Venezia e il Levantefino al secolo XV (edited by Agostino Pertusi), I: Storia-Diritto-Economia, Florence,1973, p. 229-252; Idem, Canal, Martino, in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani,17, Rome, 1974, p. 659-662; Idem, Martin da Canal e «Les estoires de Venise», inStoria della cultura veneta. Dalle origini al Trecento, Vicenza, 1976, p. 590-601;Gherardo Ortalli, I cronisti e la determinazione di Venezia città”, in Storia di Venezia.Dalle origini alla caduta della Serenissima, II: L’età del comune (edited by GiorgioCracco and Gherardo Ortalli), Rome, 1995, p. 761-782 (761-762); ªerban V. Marin,


A Chanson de Geste in the 13th Century Venice: the Chronicle Written by Martinoda Canal, “Medieval and Early Modern Studies for Central and Eastern Europe”2 (2010), p. 63-113 [in print].

103. A. Limentani, Martin da Canal e «Les estoires de Venise», p. 595.104. Idem, in Martino da Canal, Les estoires de Venise, p. ccliv.105. Ibidem, p. cclv.106. Generally, see Ester Pastorello, Introduzione, in Andreae Danduli Duci Veneticorum

Chronica per extensium descripta, p. lxii; see also Ch. Brand, Byzantium, p. 290;Benjamin Z. Kedar, Merchants in Crisis. Genoese and Venetian Men of Affairs andthe Fourteenth-Century Depression, New Haven-London, 1976, p. 76. For AndreaDandolo’s chronicles, see above, note 85.

107. Apud G. Arnaldi, Andrea Dandolo, p. 139.108. G. Cracco, Società e Stato, p. 402 note 1; A. Carile, Aspetti della cronachistica, p.

88-89; G. Arnaldi, Andrea Dandolo, p. 139.109. G. Arnaldi, Andrea Dandolo, p. 139.110. Ibidem, p. 143 nota 3.111. A. Carile, La cronachistica veneziana, p. 30.112. Idem, La coscienza civica di Venezia nella sua prima storiografia, în La coscienza cit-

tadina nei comuni italiani del Duecento, Todi, 1972 (11-14 ottobre 1970: Convegnidel Centro di Studi sulla spiritualità medievale, XI), p. 97-136 (118).

113. Idem, Aspetti della cronachistica, p. 88-89.114. See supra.115. R. Cessi, Prefazione, in Venetiarum Historia, p. 190.116. Ibidem, p. 203 note 3.117. Ibidem, p. xl.118. L. A. Berto, in Testi, p. xxvi.119. As D. Raines, Alle origini dell’archivio politico, p. 15 (reference to Extensa), 25

(reference to Brevis), 50 would suggest.120. For Lorenzo de’ Monaci and his chronicle, see Laurentii de Monacis Cretae Cancellari

Chronica de rebus venetis Ab U. C. ad Annum MCCCLIV, sive ad conjurationemducis Faledro (edited by Flaminio Corner), Venice, 1758; see also Giovanni DegliAgostini, Lorenzo de Monaci, in idem, Notizie Istorico-Critiche intorno la Vita e le Operedegli Scrittori Viniziani (introduction by Ugo Stefanutti), I-II, [Bologna], 1975[reprinted of edition in Venice, 1752-1754], p. 363-371; Agostino Pertusi, Le fontigreche del «De gestis, moribus et nobilitate civitatis venetiarum» di Lorenzo de Monaciscancelliere di Creta (1388-1428), “Italia Medioevale e Umanistica”, 8 (1965), p. 161-211; Mario Poppi, Ricerche sulla vita e cultura del notaio e cronista veneziano Lorenzode Monacis, cancelliere cretese (ca. 1351-1428), “Studi Veneziani”, 9 (1967), p.153-186; A. Pertusi, Gli inizi della storiografia umanistica nel quattrocento, in Lastoriografia veneziana, p. 269-332 (277-287); Fr. Gaeta, Storiografia, coscienza nazionale,p. 16-25; G[iorgio] Ravegnani, De Monacis, Lorenzo, in Dizionario Biograficodegli Italiani, 38, Rome, 1990, p. 660-662; ªerban V. Marin, A Venetian Chroniclerin Crete. The Case of Lorenzo de’ Monaci and His Possible Byzantine Influences, inL’Italia e la frontiera orientale dell’Europa. 1204-1669 / Italy and Europe’s EasternBorder. 1204-1660. Convegno internazione di studi, Roma, 25-27 novembre 2010 (edit-


ed by Iulian M. Damian, Dan Ioan Mureºan and Alexandru Simon), Rome, 2011[forthcoming].

121. For these two chronicles, see Anon., Cronaca di Venezia fino al 1457, Venice, BibliotecaNazionale Marciana, manuscript It. VII. 2571 [= 12463], codex from 16th cen-tury, respectively Anon., Cronaca di Venezia fino al 1570, Venice, Biblioteca NazionaleMarciana, manuscript It. VII. 2581 [= 12473], codex written around 1570; seealso C[arlo] Castellani, I manoscritti Veneti contenuti nella collezione Phillipps inCheltenham (contea di Glocester), “Archivio Veneto”, 37 (1889), p. 199-248 (219and 228); ª. Marin, Venetian and non-Venetian Crusaders in the Fourth Crusade,According to the Venetian Chronicles’ Tradition, “Annuario. Istituto Romeno di cul-tura e ricerca umanistica di Venezia”, 4 (2002), p. 111-171 (159 notes kk and ll).

122. Ibidem, p. 123.123. Ibidem, p. 143.124. See supra.

AbstractSome Considerations regarding Historia Ducum Venetorum

(13th Century)

The present paper has in intention to clarify some more or less controver-sial respects withregard to a particular Venetian chronicle: the anonymous Historia Ducum Venetorum. Far of hav-ing the pretension to offer a definite answer to all these respects, we are aware that the solutionswe present here could on their turn be new questions with regard to this writing. That is whywe make an attempt to offer as more as possible various opinions expressed in time by scholars thathave more or less tan-gentially dealt with Venetiarum Historia. In addition, we express here our ownview-points concerning the subsequent respects: manuscripts, editions, dating, (supposed) pater-nity, title, and its possible sources and influences

KeywordsVenice, Venetian chronicles, Historia Ducum Venetorum, compilation


IVÁN SÁNDOR Kovács richiama l’attenzione1 sul seguente brano dell’autobio-grafia di Miklós Bethlen:

Una volta egli [Pál Keresztúri, il professore di Bethlen] decise che noi studias-simo delle lingue straniere: il Rumeno, lo Slovacco o il Polacco, il Turco, il Tedesco,il Francese, ma non tutte allo stesso tempo, ma una ad una. Una volta ci fecedescrivere mille o duemila parole in Rumeno partendo dal loro significato inLatino. Imparai e ripetei seicento o più parole al giorno. Dopo di chè lasciòtempo solo per la prassi di conversazione, così in due o tre settimane cominciaia comprendere e anche a parlare in tre o quattro lingue, senza che egli le par-lasse. Perciò tutti si meravigliavano della sua capacità nell’insegnamento. E veroche quella volta non imparai bene queste lingue, e non le parlo perfettamentefino ad oggi, anzi ne ho già dimenticate alcune, ma per me questo fu seministhesaurus per il futuro, e per egli grande fama ed ammirazione, perchè in segui-to io fondai su questa base, anche se la materia o almeno la forma era diversa,quod ad philosophiam et docendi ac discendi formam, che diventerà più chia-ro in seguito.2

La domanda sembra ovvia: che fine avrà fatto questo vocabolario di mille oduemila parole? È scomparso definitivamente, oppure ci possono essere deidati in base ai quali si può identificare questo vocabolario o si può dimostrareil suo influsso su altri vocabolari frammentari – e da noi conosciuti – dell’epo-ca? La risposta arriva da Bethlen stesso: “Mi sono pentito tante volte del fattoche, mentre ero in Germania, le mie scritture dell’infanzia andarono persi aKolozsvár.”3 Con quest’affermazione la questione potrebbe esser risolta se nonfosse stato ritrovato, nel Fondo Marsili di Bologna, un vocabolario Latino-Rumeno-Ungherese di 2496 vocaboli, il quale fu pubblicato da Carlo Tavigliani nel1930. Può quindi essere questo frammento di vocabolario – chiamato dai ricer-

Il Lexicon Marsilianum e la lexicografia rumena nel seicento

LEVENTE NAGY

catori Lexicon Marsilianum – essere identico a quegli appunti scolastici di MiklósBethlen, oppure, che rapporto può esserci tra le due opere?4

Nel seicento sono scritti tre dizionari rumeno-latini o latino-rumeni: il dizio-nario latino-rumeno di Teodor Corbea, un glossario rumeno-latino redattod’un anonimo, e il Lexicon Marsilianum. Questi dizionari sono rimasti in mano-scritto, e vengono editati solamente alla fine del novocento e all’inizio del seco-lo ventesimo.5 László Gáldi ha dimostrato che la fonte principale di Corbea erala seconda edizione (1611) del dizionario latino-ungherese di Albert MolnárSzenci infatti egli non ha fatto altro che ha tradutto il testo di Szenci. Corbeaha scritto il suo vocabulario con l’aiuto materiale del episcopo di rito greco diBuzãu, Mitrofan negli anni 1691-1697, essendo in questo periodo lo segreta-rio di Constantin Brâncoveanu voivoda della Valachia. Corbea era stato respon-sabile per la corrispondenza voivodale in lingua ungherse (pisariu ungurescu).Prendendo in considerazione che Marsili si recò negli anni 1691-1692 in Bucarest,come segretario del ambasciatore inglese, chi trattò per la pace a Constantinopolfra gli due imperi, non possiamo escludere la possibilità, che sianno incontrar-si.6

Le parole latine di Lexicon Marsilianum si trovanno tutti anche nel dizionariodi Corbea. Ne risulta che anche il compilatore del Lexicon Marsilianum ha utilizatocome fonte il dizionario di Szenci. Nel Lexicon Marsilianum alcune parole latinenon sono tradutte in rumeno, ma nel dizionario del Corbea queste parole latinene hanno tutte la corrispondente in rumena. Se l’autore del Lexicon Marsilianumavrebbe utilizato il dizionario di Corbea per tradurre le parole latine e ungheresein rumeno, allora queste parole rumene non mancarebbero nel Lexicon Marsilianum.

Alcune traduzioni rumeni sono differenti nel Lexicon Marsilianum e neldizionario di Corbea:


Lexicon Marsilianum Dizionario di Corbea Latino Rumeno ungherese

Rivus [fiume] – Patakk Pîrîu, vale Ros [rugiada] – Harmat roao Rupes [rocca] – Kószikla Stîncã, prãpastie de piiatr ã

Sacrifico [sacrifico] – aldozok jîrtvãscu

Lexicon Marsilianum Dizionario di Corbea Latino Rumeno Rumeno

Abscondo [nascondo] Me pitul Ascunz, tãinuiesc Bellum [guerra] Oste Rãzboiu

Leo [leone] Oroslan [magiarismo] Leu

Musaeum [museo] Iskola [scuola] Casa de înv ãþat [casa di educazione, nel

Szenci: tanulóház ] Revoco [revoco] Tzam napoi Îndãrãt chiemu

Naturalmente nel dizionario di Corbea e nel Lexicon Marsilianum ci sono anchetraduzioni identiche principalmente parmi i magiarismi, ma nondimeno ioconsidero che l’autore, compilatore del Lexicon Marsilianum non ha utilizato ildizionario di Corbea.

L’autore dell’altro dizionario rumeno-latino è sconosciuto. Hasdeu ha deno-minato Anonymus Lugojiensis, Creþu Anonymus Caransebesiensis, perche secon-do loro era originario della città Lugoj o Caransebeº. Poi secondo N. Drãganul’autore del dizionario non è altro che Mihai Halici, il collego di scuola diFerenc Pápai Páriz.7 Gli argomenti di Drãganu erano ricevuti con riserve parmigli studiosi ungheresi e rumeni. Più tardo László Musnai ha formulato l’ideache l’autore del dizionario era il padre di Halici. Musnai s’aveva basato sul fattoche secondo un inventario di famiglia Halici fatto nel 31. ottobre 1674. era nelpossesso di Halici un dizionario autografo del suo padre: Vocabularium paternamanu scripta.8 Purtroppo i manoscritti che erano nella biblioteca di Halici nonsono scoperti fino ad oggi. Perciò non possiamo affrontare il dizionario che eranel posesso di Halici col manoscritto del Anonymus Caransebesiensis che oggisi trova nella Biblioteca Universitaria di Budapest. Questa comparazione non erafatto che più tardo dal Ferenc Király, chi ha trovato che le grafie delle questidue manoscritti s’assomogliano molto. Ma secondo me questi due testi eranoscritti da due mani differenti. Nondimeno posso accettare che la prima variantadel dizionario era fatto dal Halici-padre, poi questo testo era copiato d’un auto-re anonimo. Secondo me nella Biblioteca Universitaria di Budapest oggi sitrova questa copia trascritta del dizionario.9

Habbiamo visto che Miklós Bethlen era affidato dal Pál Keresztúri di descri-vere mille o duemila parole in rumeno, e le loro traduzioni in latino. Un librodi Keresztúri (Csecsemø keresztény/Il bebe cristiano) era nel possesso di Halici-padre, chi nei ultimi fogli del libro ha copiato in caratteri latini con ortografiaungherese una strofa dello primo salmo di Szenci tradutto d’un anonimo in rume-no. Ne risulta che l’attività di Keresztúri non era sconoscita dai intellettuali rume-ni di Lugoj-Caransebeº (la famiglia di Halici era originario di Caransebeº). Laredazione d’un glossario rumeno-latino sarebbe l’idea dei politici-letterati chivorebbero la riforma dei rumeni. Non possiamo escludere che Keresztúri era statoaffidato dal episcopo István Katona Geleji di comporre un dizionario simile, eKeresztúri (chi secondo la relazione di Bethlen non parlava il rumeno) haapprofittato d’aiuto d’un intellettuale rumeno di Lugoj o Caransebeº (questointellettuale rumeno era forse proprio il Mihai Halici-padre).

Quando e dove ha potuto Luigi Ferdinando Marsili procurarsi il LexiconMarsilianum? Marsili si recò per la prima volta in Transilvania nel 1690, quellavolta gli fu affidato il compito di difendere i valichi transilvani e quest’incaricogli diede così l’opportunità di percorrere Székelyföld (Siculia). Si recò a visitare


le più importanti città transilvane come Braºov (Brassó), Cluj (Kolozsvár), Sibiu(Szeben), Alba Iulia (Gyulafehérvár) e Gherla (Szamosújvár). Di tutti questieventi si trova un riassunto dettagliato nel resconto che scrisse in quel periodointitolato Relazione militare della Transilvania.10 Durante questa campagna allostesso modo si procurò: le deposizioni delle spie catturate di Thököly, il manifestoscritto da Thököly il 15 dicembre 1690 a Târgoviºte e poi mandato in Transilvania,l’alfabeto della scrittura runica dei Siculi e un calendario scritto con questi caratteri,pubblicati anche questi prima volta da Tagliavini.11 Nel 28 ottobre 1691 Marsilitornò un’altra volta a Sibiu, come testimonia la lettera inviata da questa città aConstantin Brâncoveanu che era il Voivoda della Valachia. Ma all’inizio dellostesso inverno fu richiamato a Vienna. Secondo l’opinione di László Vékony idocumenti e gli oggetti raccolti fino a quel momento furono spediti da Marsilia Bologna a suo fratello. Non ne abbiamo notizia se fra questi si trovasse già ancheil Lexicon Marsilianum.12

Dopo il 1692 Marsili in Transilvania non fece più ritorno fino a che non fustipulata la pace di Carlowitz. Allora reintrò come capo della commissione impe-riale della rettifica delle frontiere. Sono rimaste numerose lettere scritte negli anni1700-1701 dal Gubernium come pure dalla nobiltà del comitato Hunyad(Hunedoara) a proposito della rettifica dei confini. Il 30 settembre 1700 Marsilipartecipò alla riunione degli inviati di Temesvár (timiºoara) e della Transilvaniadove ebbe l’occasione di conoscere anche personalmente István Naláczy e suofiglio Lajos. I capi ufficiali della delegazione negozianta con Marsili furono IstvánNaláczy e János Sárosi. Oltre che con loro, Marsili ebbe un rapporto di amici-zia e corrispondenza anche con István Apor, Sámuel Keresztesi, Mihály Mikes,György Bánffy, Péter Macskási, Mátyás Szacsali e, aspetto di grande rilievo, anchecon Miklós Bethlen.13 Stando alle recenti ricerche svolte da József Jankovics sipuò affermare con certezza, come viene anche confermato dall’Autobiografia diBethlen, che, oltre alla comunicazione ufficiale di prassi mantennero anche unacorrispondenza privata.14 É molto probabile che anche Bethlen abbia potuto aiu-tarlo a raccogliere quei dati così importanti e difficilmente accessibili che eranostati trascritti anche nelle sue relazioni. Così per esempio, con l’aiuto del GuberniumTransilvano riuscì a procurasi dall’archivio di Apafi le lettere scritte dal granvisir sullo stato di Caransebeº al tempo di Ákos Barcsai. Per noi è di fonda-mentale importanza il riferimento di Marsili – che a quel tempo stava cercandoi corvina presumibilmente finiti a Braºov – a una conversione avuta con uno dicasa Betlem molto erudito:

Essendo io in Transilvania uno di casa Betlem molto erudito, e che avea intrapresodi scrivere la storia dei principi di Transilvania, dopo che la Porta s’era fattatributaria a sè così bella, fertile e ricca e ben situata provincia sino al vivente


allora principe Michele Abaffi, mi disse che una gran parte della libreria di Budaera stata trasportata nella sua patria, quando Solimano con la nota arte sirese signore di Buda, da dove levò gli ungari di qualunque ordine, relegandoliin Transilvania, nella qual congiuntura trasportarono anche moltissimi libri estampati, e manoscritti.15

Dopo i saggi di Áron Szilady e Csaba Csapodi anche io ho scritto nel miosaggio pubblicato in rivista “Magyar Nyelv”, che questo Bethlen molto eruditoera Miklós Bethlen.16 Ma adesso devo corettare questa opinione divenuto un luogocomune nella letteratura di specialità ungherese, malgrado che già nel 1976Zsigmond Jakó abbia formulato l’ipotesi che questo Bethlen e Elek Bethlen.17

Nel testo marsiliano sopracitato è chiaro che questo Bethlen abbia l’intenzionedi scrivere la storia della Transilvania dal anno 1541 fino al regno di Apafi primo.Sappiamo che nella famiglia Bethlen, due membri di famiglia hanno scritto lastoria di Transilvania: János Bethlen e Farkas Bethlen. Ma qundo arrivò Marsiliin Transilvania ambedue sono già morti. Ma era vivente il fratello di Farkas Bethlen,Elek Bethlen (morto nel 1696) chi fondò nel 1684 una tipografia a Keresd, ecomminciò a pubblicare il testo rimasto nel manoscritto, del suo fratello Farkas.Elek non era un semplice edittore perche egli anche ha trascritto il testo delsuo fratello. La storia della Transilvania da cui parlava il Bethlen molto eruditoa Marsili, era l’opera di Farkas Bethlen, perche Miklós Bethlen fuori d’alcune operepubblicistiche non ha scritto che la sua autobiografia.

Accettando dunque l’ipotesi che il Lexicon Marsilianum sia nato all’internodi quel circolo di intelettuali del quale fu membro anche Miklós Bethlen eMihai Halici durante i suoi anni di studio, allora non si può che dedurne cheMarsili prese questo glossario da Miklós Bethlen negli anni 1700-1701. Si pos-sono addurre due argomentazioni per demolire questa ipotesi: la prima è che(come ha dimostrato già Tagliavini) l’autore del vocabolario non era nè unghe-rese nè rumeno ma di madrelingua tedesca.18 (In seguito tornerremo più detta-gliatamente su questo argomento, ora vorrei solo accennare al fatto che a mioparere in questo caso sarebbe più esatto parlare di un copista piuttosto che diun autore.) La seconda ragione è che secondo László Gáldi è palese una corre-lazione tra il Lexicon Marsilianum e la parte tedesca del dizionario di Albert SzenciMolnár pubblicato nel 1708 a Norimberga. Si è riscontrato infatti che alcunedelle definizioni ungheresi del Lexicon Marsilianum avevano un’interpretazioneaccetabile solo tenendo conto della fonte tedesca come per esempio la parola har-pax (resina collosa) che nel Lexicon Marsilianum assume il significato unghere-se e rumeno: pansinye-pook (ragno). Secondo Gáldi – nell’edizione di Tagliaviniquesto fenomeno rimase senza commento – l’esempio sopramnezionato è unodegli errori più interessanti del Lexicon Marsilianum che è stato spiegato in


base al vocabolario del 1708 di Szenci dove l’harpax era equivalente di Spinnwistel.L’autore-copista – dice Gáldi – fraintendendo l’espressione tedesca, tradusse laprima parte come Spinne (ragno).19

Un altro caso interessante: nel Lexicon Marsilianum manca la traduzione rume-na della parola latina rumen e quella ungherese sarebbe gége (laringe). In tuttele tre edizioni del vocabolario di Szenci, pubblicate prima del 1708, la spiega-zione ungherese della parola rumen era la seguente: “Kérø gyomor, kibøl az baromaz fûvet visszarágja;item kérø rágás” (Il rumine dei buoi), mentre nell’edizionedel 1708 si trovava la seguente traduzione tedesca: “Die Wonne, der Magen, dasGürgelein am Hals. Item: der Ort wo die Wiederkäung geschicht.” Secondo Gáldila mancanza del significato rumeno della parola nel Lexicon Marsilianum potreb-be indicare che l’ignoto autore conoscesse di più l’ungherese che il rumeno.20

Accettando quest’ipotesi si persenta un problema: perchè l’autore aveva presola parola gége da un dizionario tedesco? Secondo la nostra opinione sembra moltopiù probabile che l’autore non conoscesse bene nè l’ungherese nè il rumeno e perquesto avesse avuto bisogno del vocabolario tedesco. Questo congettura raffor-za la nostra ipotesi secondo la quale fosse tedesco il copista e non l’autore. Adavallare ulteriormente questa ipotesi vi sono le particolaritá fonetiche delleparole (lo scambio delle consonanti sonore e sorde per esempio: t in luogo did: kretincza-credinþã; rotytore-roditoare; e al contrario d invece t bodicz-botez; pla-desc-plãtesc), nonchè il fatto che nella quarta colonna di Lexicon Marsilianum rima-sta fino ad allora vuota, fosse stata occupata dalla parte tedesca.21 Gáldi e Tagliaviniiniziarono le loro ricerche partendo dal presupposto che si trattasse di un mano-scritto originale e non di una copia. Di questo non riuscirono ad averne confermain alcun modo. Prendendo in considerazione l’abitudine del Marsili di collezio-nare gli scritti, sembra molto più probabile che il Lexicon Marsilianum potesseessere stato trascritto a sua richiesta, e che il possessore del manoscritto origi-nale – a nostro parere – non abbia spedito il suo esemplare originale a Marsili,ma solo una copia, poichè si ritiene che altrimenti ne sarebbe rimasta traccia.

Al tempo stesso dobbiamo prendere in considerazione le affermazioni di Gáldisecondo le quali una delle principali fonti del Lexicon Marsilianum sia stato ilvocabolario Szenci edito nell’anno 1708. Se questo è vero il Lexicon Marsilianumpotrebbe essere stato stilato tra il 1708 e 1712, poichè stando all’inventariofatto nel 1712, in questo anno era già di proprietá del Marsili.22 Come mai il dizio-nario era giunto a Bologna solo dopo il 1708 mentre Marsili dopo il 1702 nontornò più nè in Ungheria nè in Transilvania? Nel mio saggio soprammenziona-to anche io ho scritto che, come punto di congiunzione si presenta la figura diMiklós Bethlen, chi trascorse il periodo dal luiglio del 1708 fino alla sua mortea Vienna. Secondo l’Autobiografia di Marsili nel 1710-1711 egli ritornò nella capi-tale imperiale perchè allora la corte viennese l’avrebbe voluto mandare in Russia


per la guerra scoppiata tra Pietro il Grande e i turchi. Ma questa volta Marsilirifiuto’di assumere questa missione diplomatica quindi giunse solo fino a Viennada dove se ne ritornò.23 Allora nel questo saggio ho presentato una possibilestoria del Lexicon Marsilianum in modo seguente: la forma a noi rimasta nonsia l’opera di un autore ma che il suddetto vocabolario sia il prodotto di unprocesso creativo svoltosi nel tempo. Il glossario nella sua forma originalesarebbe stato scritto negli anni 1650 sotto la direzione di Pál Keresztúri e conla collaborazione dei suoi studenti in parte rumeni, (Halici) dei dintorni diCaransebeº-Lugoj, in parte ungheresei tra i quali si trovava anche Miklós Bethlen.Anche se il testo originale fosse andato distrutto insieme agli appunti scolasticidi Miklós Bethlen, alcune redazioni sarebbero sopravissute nelle mani di alcuniaristocratici ungheresi e sassoni transilvani che avrebbero potuto utilizzarlonella comunicazione quotidiana con i loro contadini rumeni. Miklós Bethlenavrebbe potuto procurarsi, su richiesta di Marsili, una redazione di questogenere, che sarebbe stata copiata a Vienna, dopo il 1708, da uno ‘scriptor’tedesco, il quale avrebbe in parte rielaborato questo glossario basandosi sul voca-bolario di Szenci edito nel 1708. A noi nel fondo Marsili è rimasta la redazio-ne di questo testo rifatto.

Esaminando quindi il manoscritto originale24 possiamo trovare confermadell’ipotesi sopramenzionata. Oltre a poter corregere alcuni errori di Tagliavini,25

risultò evidente ciò che precedemente era sfuggito all’attenzione degli studiosiche per primi si occuparono del manoscritto: l’osservazione che il testo delvocabolaraio fu scritto da diverse calligrafie. La prima colonna venne fu scrittada una mano e qui la forma delle parole è la piú corretta: solo una variante tra-scurabile: presenta fidicen (violista) invece di fidicem.26 Inoltre, la parte in Unghereseè la più unitaria e, salvo alcune parole mancanti, è quella che si ritiene essere lapiù completa. Nella parte Rumena – la quale invece è maggiormente lacunosa– si trovano al contrario, anche parti scritte da più mani, e si nota inoltre chein questa parte una stessa mano ha inserito a posteriori alcune parole coninchiostri diversi e si suppone in tempi diversi.27 A nostro parere il dato piúrilevante in tutto ciò è che uno dei gruppi di parole,28 che secondo Gáldi senzaalcun dubbio fu completato secondo il vocabolario di Szenci dell’anno 1708, ètuttavia il risultato di un’interpolazione posteriore. Dunque si ritiene che ilcompilatore-copista prima abbia scritto la colonna latina del vocabolario in mododa poter trovare più facilmente un modello per questa parte. In seguito abbiaredatto la parte ungherese – valendosi per la traduzione di alcune parole del voca-bolario di Szenci dell’anno 1708 – e infine quella rumena riguardo alla quale avevaottenuto però esigue informazioni. Si suppone che per compilare quest’ultimaparte si sia servito di quel frammento di vocabolario Latino-Ungherese-Rumenoche Marsili avrebbe preso in Transilvania oppure a Vienna.


Adesso devo corettare la mia ipotesa. E sicuro che dopo 1704 Marsili era statoescluso dall’armata imperiale per la capitulazione di Breisach, e lei non tornòpiù nè in Vienna, nè sul territorio della Monarchia Absburgica.29 E perciò nonera possibile ne un rincontro con Miklós Bethlen a Vienna dopo 1708. Altrimentiè difficile d’imaginare un rincontro tra Marsili e Bethlen chi era incarcerato. Alloraio penso che il Lexicon Marsilianum si era procurato da Marsili durante larettificazione delle frontiere fra Transilvania, Valachia e il Banato di Temesvarnegli anni 1700-1701. L’identificazionea precisa della persona da cui era procuratoil dizinario, secondo me, è impossibile, perche la varianta attuale del testo nonsia l’opera di un autore ma sia il prodotto di un processo creativo svoltosi neltempo. I compilatori hanno utilizzato il dizionario di Szenci e di Corbea, e ilglossario di Bethlen e di Halici padre. E sicuro che lo scrittore era un tedesco.Prendendo in considerazione questo fatto, io credo che il compilatore e lo scrittoredel Lexicon Marsilianum era Johann Christoph Müller, il cartografo di Marsili,chi ha disegnato le piante fatte da Marsili durante i lavori della commissione dellarettifica delle frontiere.30 Müller era originario da Norimberga, e dopo che lacommissione ha terminato il lavoro, tornò nella sua città natale, dove continuòa lavorare per Marsili, facendo l’illustrazioni per Danubius Pannonico-Mysicus.Müller non ha lasciato neanche le cose ungherese: nel 1706 i ceti ungheresi l’hannoincaricato di fare la carta geografica del regno ungaro. Müller terminò questolavoro nel 1709. Ho già detto che anche il dizionario Latino-Ungherese-Tedescodi Szenci era pubblicato nel 1708 a Norimberg. Allora per Müller non era difficiledi procurarsi il dizionario trilingue di Szenci, e di completare il glossario compostonel 1700-1701.

�

Notes

1. Szöveggyðjtemény a régi magyar irdolamból 1., a cura di Iván Sándor Kovács, Osiris,Budapest 1998, p. 505.

2. Miklós Bethlen, Élete leírása magától, in Kemény János és Bethlen Miklós mðve, acura di Éva V. Windisch, Szépirodalmi Kiadó, Budapest 1980, p. 541. Miklós Bethlen(1642-1716) era uno dei più importanti personaggi letterati e politici del suo tempo.Ha fatto i suoi studi in Francia, Olanda e Inghliterra. Dopo il suo ritorno nellaTransilvania fu eletto il cancelliere della Transilvania. Nel 1704 fu arrestato da Rabutin,il governatore plenipontenziaro dell Transilvania. Nel carcere Bethlen scrisse la suaautobiografia.

3. BETHLEN, op. cit., p. 532.4. Il „Lexicon Marsilianum”. Dizionario latino-rumeno-ungherese del sec. XVII, a cura di

Carlo Tagliavini, Cultura Naþionalã, Bucureºti 1930 (in seguito LexMars).5. Grigore CREÞU, Anonymus Caransebesiensis, Tinerimea Românã, I, Bucureºti 1898,

pp. 320-380; Teodor CORBEA, Dictiones latinae cum valachica interpretatione, a


cura di Alin-Mihai Gherman, Clusium, Cluj-Napoca 2001; Francisc Király, Dictionariumvalachico-latinum. Anonymus Caransebesiensis Mihai Halici-tatãl, a cura di AlexandruMetea, Maria Király, First, Timiºoara 2003.

6. Sul soggiorno di Marsili a Bucarest vedi: Relazione dell’autore a Sacra Maestà Cesareadello stato della Corte Ottomana, della sua milizia, dei trattati fattisi insino a queltempo intorno alla pace del [16]91, del’intenzione della Transilvania, dell’inclinazionedella Wallachia, e del portamento del Tekly ed Aisler, Biblioteca Universitaria di Bologna(in seguito BUB), ms. Marsili, nr. 55, fol. 228-248; Relazione a Sacra Maestà Caesareadi tutto il successo al Marsili nel primo viaggio che fece a Constantinopoli, per i negozia-ti della pace del 1961, BUB, ms. Marsili, nr. 55, fol. 139-156; Autobiografia di LuigiFerdinando Marsili, a cura di Emilio Lovarini, Zanichelli, Bologna 1930, p. 120-134.

7. Creþu, Anonymus Caransebesiensis, pp. 322-324; Bogdan-Petriceicu Hasdeu, AnonymusLugosiensis, revista pentru istorie, «archeologie ºi filologie», VI (1891), pp. 1-48;Nicolae Drãganu, Mihail Halici. Contribuþie la istoria culturalã româneascã din sec.al XVII-lea, «Dacoromania», IV (1924-1926), pp. 76-169.

8. László Musnai, Új adatok Halici Mihály életéhez és hagyatékához, «Nyelv- ésIrodalomtudományi Közlemények», nr. 1-2 (1960), pp. 69-83. Sulla biblioteca diHalici vide: Maria Ursuþiu, Din nou despre biblioteca Halici (1674), «Biblioteca ºi cer-cetare», XII (1988), pp. 268-289; Erdélyi könyvesházak 1563-1757, III, a cura di IstvánMonok, Noémi Németh, András Varga, Scriptum Szeged, 1994, pp. 194-216 (Adattára XVI-XVIII. századi szellemi mozgalmaink történetéhez 16/3). Sulla famiglia Halicivide: Doru Radosav, Culturã ºi umanism în Banat, secolul XVII, Ed. de Vest, Timiºoara,2003, pp. 145-235.

9. Király, Dictionarium, pp. 23-34. Il manoscritto del dizionario vide: Budapesti EgyetemiKönyvtár ms. H 3. L’opinione di Király e stato accettato anche da Doru Radosav:Radosav, Culturã ºi umanism, p. 231.

10. Relazione militare della Transilvania, BUB FM, ms. 54, fol. 619-639.11. Carlo Tagliavini, Luigi Ferdinando Marsigli e la scrittura runica dei Siculi di Transylvania,

«Bollettino tratto da Il Commune di Bologna», 1930. Vide ancora la monografiadi Klára Sándor, A bolognai rovásemlék, Magyar Õstörténeti Könyvtár, Szeged 1991(Magyar Õstörténeti Könyvtár 1.).

12. László Vékony, Egy olasz polihisztor a Kárpát-medencében, Újvidék, 1984, p. 17. Lalettera di Marsili a Brâncoveanu vide: Eudoxiu Hurmuzaki, Documnete privitoarela istoria românilor, vol. V/1, Bucureºti, 1886, p. 394.

13. Sulla attività di Marsili nella commossione imperilae della rettifica delle frontiere vide:Relazioni dei confini della Croazia e della Transilvania a sua Maestà Cesarea 1-2 (1699-1701), a cura di Raffaella GHERARDI, Mucchi, Modena 1986.

14. József Jankovics, Bethlen Miklós két levele Luigi Ferdinando Marsilihez, in R. VárkonyiÁgnes emlékkönyv, a cura di Péter Tusor, Balassi Kiadó, Budapest 1998, pp. 427-432.

15. Scritti inediti di Luigi Ferdinando Marsili, raccolti e pubblicati nel il centenario dellamorte, a cura del Comitato Marsiliano, Bologna 1930, p. 180.

16. Áron Szilády, Jelentés bolognai útjáról, Akadémiai Értesítø, Budapest, 1868, pp.128-142; Csaba Csapodi, Mikor pusztult el Mátyás király könyvtára, «MagyarKönyvszemle», 4 (1961), pp. 399-419; Levente Nagy, Confluenþe lexicografice româno-


maghiare din secolul al XVII-lea («Lexiconul Marsilian» ºi contele Miklós Bethlen),«Dacoromania», 3 (2002), pp. 43-62.

17. Zsigmond Jakó, Írás, könyv, értelmiség. Tanulmányok Erdély történelméhez, Kriterion,Bucarest, 1976, p. 336.

18. LexMars, p. 184. Vedi ancora: Zsuzsa Rozsnyói, Szótárkísérletek a XVII. Századból.Luigi Ferdinando Marsigli bolognai szótára és szójegyzék-töredékei, in Olasz nyelvitanulmányok, a cura di Luigi Tassoni, Ágota Fóris, Iskolakultúra, Pécs 2000, pp. 179-191.

19. László Gáldi, A Lexicon Marsilianum egyik forrása, «Magyar Nyelv», 1931, pp. 43-44.20. Ibid., p. 45.21. LexMars, p. 184.22. LexMars, p. 180.23. Autobiografia, p. 237.24. BUB, ms. Marsili, nr. 116.25. Tagliavini legge la traduzione ungherese della parola comunitas-in pre uczunye come

községh (villaggio) invece di közössegh che sarebbe communità. Un errore ancora piùgrave e’ che legge esurio-flomansesk con fizetzem (che in ungherese non ha nessun senso)ma il vocabolo ungherese è tutto regolare: meghehezem (divento affamato). Expaveo-mespar in Ungherese nella lettura di Tagliavini è eedes (che di nuovo è senza senso), secondoil testo però sarebbe ijedek (prendo paura). Il significato ungherese della parolaglaber-plesugh nella lettura di Tagliavini è kappász (privo di senso) mentre in realtà sitratta di koppátz (calvo). Nel caso dell’indecens-iletlen (Indecente) la parola rumena venneletta da Tagliavini come nye kuvina invece di nye kuvniat. Un altro errore di minorrilievo è il seguente: nonogenarius-de nosecs an in Ungherese nella lettura di Tagliavini:kilenczven esztendø (cioè novanta anni) mentre in realtà sarebbe kilenczven esztendøs (hanovanta anni). Vedi BUB, ms. Marsili, nr. 116, 7v, 15v, 16r, 22r, 26v, 37v.

26. LexMars, 205; BUB, ms. Marsili, nr. 116, 17r.27. Vedi: 7v, 9r, 10v, 11v, 17r, 2v, 23v, 28r-28v, 29v, 30r, 31r-31v, 32v, 33r-33v, 34r, 35r-

35v, 46r, 47r.28. Forum boarium – Piacz de boi – Ökör Vásár (mercato dei buoi)

Forum piscarium – Piacz de Pest – Hal Piacz (mercato di pesce)Forum Olitarium – Piacz Vergye – Zöld Piacz (mercato verde)Forum Suarium – Piacz de Porcs – Dezno Vásár (mercato dei porchi)Forum Vinarium – Piacz de Vin – Bor Vásár. (mercato d vino)Vedi BUB, ms. Marsili, nr. 116, 20v; LexMars, p. 108; Gáldi, Lexicon Marsilianum, p.45.

29. Renzo Reggiani, La riabilitazione militare = Memorie intorno a Luigi FerdinandoMarsili, Nicola Zanichelli, Bologna 1930, pp. 57-90.

30. Sulla vita e attività di Müller vide: Antal András DEÁK – Miljenko LAPAINE – IvkaKLJAJIÆ, Johann Christoph Müller (1673-1721), «Cartography and Geoinformation»,3 (2004), pp. 68-80.


AbstractThe Lexicon Marsilianum and Romanian Lexicography in the 17th Century

The study propounds and supports with arguments a new hypothesis concerning the paternity andthe dating of the Lexicon Marsilianum, a trilingual (Latin-Romanian-Hungarian) vocabulary ofnearly 2,500 words, discovered in the Marsili Collection in Bologna and published in 1930 byCarlo Tagliavini. We are dealing with one of the three Romanian-Latin or Latin-Romanian dic-tionaries of the 17th century (alongside the dictionary of Teodor Corbea and the anonymousglossary of the Anonymus Caransebesiensis, ascribed to Mihai Halici the Elder) which all remainedin manuscript form and were printed a few centuries later. The hypothesis in question claimsthat the lexicon is the copy of an original glossary compiled sometime in the 1650s under the super-vision of Pál Keresztúri and with the contribution of his Romanian (Mihai Halici) and Hungarian(Miklós Bethlen) students, and completed by an anonymous compiler—identified as being JohannChristoph Müller, cartographer to Luigi Ferdinando Marsili; the latter two were members of theimperial commission reviewing the borders of Transylvania, Wallachia, and Banat, in 1700–1701—with elements taken from the trilingual (Latin-Hungarian-German) dictionary of Albert MolnárSzenci, published in 1708.

Keywords lexicography, dictionaries, Luigi Ferdinando Marsili, Johann Christoph Müler


HOW THE emergence and evolution of medieval towns are reflected in chron-icles has not sparked too much interest in the research field so far. Given the treat-ment that this information has received in chronicles, their authors did notseem to take a direct interest in how towns formed, how they were organized,their vibrant urban life, and not even their inhabitants. This appearance can bedeceiving, however, since a closer look reveals that ancient texts are ripe with ref-erences to urban settlements.

D UE TO the vastness of this subject, we will undertake to examine the wayit was perceived in late medieval literature in Moldavia, focusing onthe 17th-18th centuries. We will stop on chronicles in this period, since

they contain the most substantial amount of information. Our point of referencewill be the ‘classics’: Grigore Ureche, Miron Costin, and Ion Neculce, withtheir known works. We did not include Dimitrie Cantemir here, since he dis-tinctly bridges the chronicler spirit, of noting the events of the time, specific tothe medieval world, and the encyclopaedic spirit, closer to modern thought. Thelatter foregoes the changes that historical literature and other fields undergo start-ing with the latter half of the 18th century and the next. Our research will seekto identify the most relevant testimonies of chroniclers on towns, as well ashistorical and literary insights into them.

T HE FIRST chronicler we will study will be Grigore Ureche. We do notintend to engage here in the large controversy on the paternity of thechronicle he is credited with, a controversy which has yet to be settled.

Historical Tradition, Legend and Towns

in the Moldavian Chronicles

LAURENÞIU RÃDVAN


Recently, N.A. Ursu has reopened the file on Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei, andhas come up with several arguments which attribute the work to Simion Dascãlul,so far considered only an interpolator; the interpolations of Misail Cãlugãrul werealso challenged. Regardless of whether the work was written by Simion or Ureche,we may say for sure that Ureche’s contributions make up a large part of the chron-icle which reached us today1. Our research sets to create a historical study ofthe chronicle text, to look at the validity of its claims on towns, rather than toattribute its information to one chronicler or the other.

The work that Ureche is usually credited with parts ways with the traditionof court chronicles in the previous century, in that it belongs to a layman, andnot to a clergyman, and it promotes a literary and political vision distinct fromthat of Ureche’s forerunners2. Letopiseþul is not dedicated to anyone in particu-lar, but originates in the author’s wish to leave for times to come his own ver-sion on the past history of Moldavia, thereby revealing a keen sense of historyon the part of the chronicler3. Moreover, it is the first Moldavian chronicle to bepreserved in Romanian and the first where an author ponders over the Latin rootsof Romanians. Here are the first statements on history as a ‘cultural asset’, whichmust not be lost. Recording and passing on traditions and noteworthy past eventswas meant to elevate a nation in the eyes of its neighbours:

[…] chroniclers […] are keepers of time and harbourers and contemplators ofgreat deeds, so they would not remain trivial, and their neighbours to say thatthey were indolent or ignorant or not steeped in history4.

History could also be a reason for national pride. Ever since the chronicleattributed to Ureche, we will notice that chroniclers begin to expand their his-torical horizon, which leads us to separate 17th-18th century chronicles from theearlier ones, which were more limited in scope and language.

A true breakthrough, the chronicle attributed to Ureche also includes somethoughts on Moldavian towns. Since it looks at the country’s history from itsearly stages and up to late 16th century, part of these explorations are also focusedon early urban life, that the author, as well as his interpolators, especially SimionDascãlul, subordinate to the descãlecat (which has the meaning of foundation).More notably, the latter is the first to approach the emergence of a town:

And it is also thus that the târg at Baia was said to be founded (descãlecat) bysome Saxons, who were potters; it also thus that Suceava was said to be found-ed by Hungarian furriers, called suci in their language, and Suceava is calledfurriery in their language. [Other towns are ascribed to the Genovese]: Alsoin this country were there strongholds that the Genovese built in times past:the stronghold at Suceava and the stronghold at Hotin and Cetatea Albã and


the stronghold of Chilia and Cetatea Neamþului and Cetatea Nouã at Roman,where the earth caved underneath and the stronghold fell to pieces5.

The foundation of towns is a recurring topic in the chronicle. Axinte Uricariulties the emergence of Roman to the ruler by that same name: And he [RomanI] built the târg of Roman after his name, as he testifies in his document, which is inthe Pobrata monastery6. Misail Cãlugãrul (or Simion Dascãlul, according to N.A.Ursu7) makes one of the most interesting claims, linking the emergence of townsto voivod Iuga, whose reign was very brief: [Iuga] had founded (descãlecat)towns throughout the country, in good places, and built for them ocoale around [...]8.Misail is also credited with the testimony on the emergence of Iaºi: Voivode ªtefanhad founded Iaºii and to praise the Lord began building the church of martyr Necolai9,while Panaitescu attributes to Ureche (Axinte Uricariul according to Velciu10) thenote on the foundation of another town, Hârlãu: it was in 6995 [1487] that voivodeªtefan had founded (a descãlecat) Hârlãul, wherein he built the stone church andthe princely enclosures, with their walls, which still stand today11.

Instead, the town of Suceava is mentioned when the Metropolitan Churchis founded and the relics of St John the New are brought in: And in the year 6923[1415] they had brought in with great expense the relics of Saint John the New fromCetatea Albã, from the heathens, and set them in town, in Suceava, at the MetropolitanChurch [...] to keep and uphold his seat12. Where other towns are concerned, thechronicle mentions them in relation to events, mostly negative, such as invasionsor forays by the Mongols, Poles, Wallachians or Turks. For instance, the townsof Cernãuþi and Botoºani only feature several times in such moments13. In thiscase, the source is easily identifiable: the Old Slavonian chronicles in the 15th-16th

centuries, events being quoted without any further additions14.

A MAJOR STEP ahead for historical accuracy, but also for where literature andstyle are concerned is made by Miron Costin, believed to be the mostlearned of Moldavian chroniclers15. He focuses on an age that was closer to

his day, and he was also involved in many of the events depicted. Costin’s his-torical comments provide more insight than those of his predecessor, who wastoo busy with the military and political side of history, without leaving roomfor opinions that would show any in-depth perception of it. Miron Costin is alsosuperior to Ureche in his status as the first historian to write a history of Romanians,his works (including De neamul moldovenilor, Cronica polonã and Poema polonã)pro-ving that the author had a historical scope that extended beyond the localhistory of Moldavia16. Some of his works are historical, but also diplomatic intheir intent, the chronicler wishing to promote his country by its culture infront of neighbouring powers17. It was not rare that his texts give considera-tion to the Romanians in other Romanian territories18. The chronicle attrib-


uted to Ureche had as well taken a step forward over its precursors, by indicat-ing an understanding of the Latin origin of Romanians (our origins are inRome), even though the author still had dif-ficulties explaining it: our languagedraws on many others, and our tongue is still mixed with that of our neighbours19.Instead, Miron Costin proves to have a much deeper knowledge of our Romanorigin, which is expressed in absolute terms: So no one is to doubt that [Romanians]have their roots in Rome20. Miron Costin is also among the first to promote anunbiased and critical practice in writing history, lashing against the so-called basne,the fabrications of Simion Dascãlul on the origin of the Moldavians21.

Miron Costin was familiar with towns, both in Moldavia, and in neighbouringlands, especially in Poland, where he lived 20 years22. He travelled for military ofdiplomatic purposes all around the Eastern and Central parts of Europe, from Walachiato Neuhäusel (nowadays in Slovakia) or Istanbul23. His works, especially De neamulmoldovenilor or Poema polonã, mention on several occasions various towns, but heprefers to stop over strongholds, possibly due to a sense of nostalgia for pasttimes, when Moldavia was as well a country with powerful fortresses24. Amongothers, Costin relays some interesting details to us. In the Focºani-Odo-beºti area,the ruins of Milcovia were still visible in his time (the rubble [...] on the Milcov,north of Focºeni), which Dimitrie Cantemir also refers to (he places them not far fromthe Mera monastery). By relying on Ureche, they both mistake if for anotherstronghold, Crãciuna25, which was in fact on the Siret river26. There was also astronghold near Soroca, and Costin ascribes its durability to voivode Petru (probablyPetru Rareº)27. The chronicler does not forget to draft several town lists, which heorganizes across districts28, and also inserts several legends where towns are mentioned.They also include the one on the emergence of Moldavia. A noteworthy detail isthat, when describing the battles fought by the Hungarians and the Mongols (Cumans,actually) in king Ladislas’ time, Miron Costin cites a theory on the origin of the nameof Siret, which is also mentioned by Simion Dascãlul (and integrates it in the texton the origin of Moldavians, compounded by the much railed-against legend of therobbers who colonized Maramureº)29. However, unlike the one considered to beUreche’s interpolator, who wrote immediately before Costin, the latter added anotherdetail, namely that the battle with the Mongols took place where the town of Romanwas later erected: the Mongols were attacked in Siret, and the battle was waged in Roman[...]. And, although the town of Roman did not stand there yet, it was built in memoryof the place where victory was gained30. Miron Costin was convinced that the townof Roman owes its emergence to Roman I: under his reign [Roman] was the townof Roman built, bearing his name31.

Further on, in the same work, which describes the actions of Dragoº, MironCostin credits him with bringing Saxon craftsmen in Wallachia, who weretransferred by him near the mountains, and wrote about towns that were mostlyfounded by Saxons, and it was them, along with the Hungarians, that also created


the vineyards. Suceava is given the same interpretation as the one by SimionDascãlul, who believed that town owed its emergence to some furriers comingfrom Hungary32. Manuscript C of Poema polonã also provides the only considerationsby Costin on the organization of towns: in towns, the voiti are called ºoltuzi,and they have the pârgari in their service, whose name is Hungarian33.

W RITTEN IN a style closer to personal memories, Ion Neculce’s chro-niclecontinues that of Miron Costin, taking the history of Moldavia up tothe first rulers called Phanariotes. Neculce proved to have a remarkable

sense of continuity, which led him to take over from where Costin stop-ped,who also continued Ureche’s chronicle. This understanding of his-tory writingshows that these scholar-boyars felt they were engaged in a common effort, andnot an individual one, the writing of their country’s history, which they tried torelate to the history of the world at large. Ne-culce compensates his lack of edu-cation in Polish schools possessed by his forerunners by the experience he hadgathered in a true cursus honorum of local offices, but also by the years spent inWalachia (where his uncle was stolnic Constantin Cantacuzino), as well as in Russiaand Poland. All this allowed him to expand his political scope and to better under-stand the place Moldavia had in the area. Also, this experience reinforced his beliefthat Russia was the only one that could rid the coun-try of Ottoman rule34.

Since we wrote only late, in the 18th century, and since he succeeded otherchroniclers who had dealt with early Moldavia, Neculce focused less on this topicand much less on the emergence of towns. His only note on this matter can befound in O samã de cuvinte, where Neculce records the information which ascribesthe foundation (descãlecat) of the town of Siret” to Dragoº, who had supposedlyestablished here his seat, and built a zamcã, an earthen stronghold, and therein prince-ly hou-ses and stone church, the church of the Holy Trinity. Dragoº’s consort wasallegedly Saxon and had possibly founded the Catholic church in town35. Itwas also in his compilation of stories that Neculce passes on an anecdote, lateand probably genuine36, regarding prince Gheorghe ªtefan. It was said that, whencrossing with troops from Transylvania into Moldavia, he had commanded theºoltuz in Roman to pay a winebarrel to a herdsman37. The towns are otherwisementioned in the same context as with the other chroniclers, as places where rulershave their seats or where various events occur, mostly unfortunate: battles,natural disas-ters, epidemics or boyars being beheaded, with even one of thechroni-clers sharing this fate: Miron Costin38.

W E SHOULD ask ourselves: how much historical ground do the chroni-clers’ writings have? How much of what they have written is justlegend, and how much historical tradition, be it popular or scholar-

ly, relayed for generations and generations? What was the source of their infor-


mation? Even the chroniclers confess to having sought inspiration in several places.On the one hand, they relied on external sources, useful to create a backgroundfor many of the events involving medieval Moldavia. Most are works writtenin the Polish or Hungarian lands, which the chroniclers were more familiar with,as they had been educated outside the coun-try, especially in the Polish envi-ronment. The main sources of chronicles also include the so-called letopiseþ unguresc(Hungarian Chronicle), chronicles in Walachia, the chronicle of Joachim Bielski,that of Martin Kromer, the Cosmography of Gerard Mercator, the Sarmatiae Europaedescriptio of Alexander Guagnini (translated into Polish by Martin Paszkow-ski), the chronicle of Poland by Paul Piasecki, that on the history of Transylvaniaby L. Toppeltin, and others39. For the internal history, they could rely on courtchronicles40, as well as on newer ones. Simion Dascãlul, Miron Costin and Neculcesuggest that a certain Eustratie logofãtul had already written a chronicle (calledLetopiseþul moldovenesc), in Romanian or Slavonic, but it did not reach moderntimes41. Historical tradition, transmitted orally, was a major source for chroni-clers when other sources were not too helpful. The preface of the chronicle attrib-uted to Ureche confirms this: the first writers did not find any written word […],but rather wrote from stories they heard one from the other. In the ad-dition thatSimion Dascãlul is credited with, he claims that he wished to complement Ureche’swork and took some of his sources from: [...] documents in our language42,meaning the internal texts he had access to. Neculce, in O samã de cuvinte,refers us directly to the source of his historical accounts: A collection of words heardfrom man to man, from men old and ancient, which are not written in the chronicle,but were written here […]43. The same Neculce mentions that not all the stories(especially the ones called basne) must be frowned upon as unsubstantiatedfabrications, when referring to certain accounts, such as those referring to thePoles who ploughed Dumbrava Roºie or to the origin of Movilã family name:this is why I do not believe it to be a fabrication44. For more recent events, chroniclersused the testimonies of the time, adopted from contemporaries; they were per-sonal witnesses to some45.

Those involved in elucidating the sources used by chroniclers were not tooconcerned with identifying or settling the authenticity of information on towns,and mainly focused on political matters. A recurring topic in the chroniclesmentioned is the descãlecat or the foundation of towns and the contribution offoreigners, both Saxon and Hungarian. Miron Costin took the most decisivestance in this matter, along with Ureche, who mentions several towns, such asBaia and Suceava. This topic comes to complement ideas expressed on theemergence of Moldavia, which features, by putting together information relayedby foreign chronicles and those in local tradition, as a new country, which appearedin a deserted, and then populated place46. Archaeological research revealed thatareas east of the Carpathians were indeed faced with a significant population


decrease during Mongol domination. This all changed from mid 14th century on,when this land came under Hungarian influence, and then became a distinctprincipality47. The deserted land of Moldavia must however be approached as thoseterra deserta in Transylvania or even Poland, mentioned as well in the contextof colonisations and already thoroughly discussed. Beyond the Carpathians,the Saxons answered the call of the Hungarian kings and settled in areas aroundthe future towns of Sibiu, Orãºtie, Sebeº, Sighiºoara, Mediaº, Braºov and Bistriþa.The southern parts of Transylvania are indicated as deserta in royal documents,and this was also why they had been granted to the newcomers. Romanianhistoriography challenged the notion of an unpopulated territory in southernTransylvania, especially since this was an area densely inhabited by Romanians,confirmed by findings and narrative sources. Various arguments as to the meaningof terra deserta were brought48, so we will not repeat what has already beensaid, but will present another argument that supports the existence of a Romanianpopulation here. The argument comes from one of the neighbours, Poland. Itwas here, in the borderlands of Greater Poland (in Naklo, Wiele? and in the Lubuszdiocese), that colonists were granted lands called deserta by documents. PiotrGórecki’s research has shown that by deserted land one did not refer to unpopulatedland, but to one with poor crops and no in-come for the Church (for men ofthe Church, income meant tithes)49. Transylvania was inhabited by Romanians,who were Orthodox and paid no tithes to the Catholic Church, so it is easy tounderstand why the area mentioned above was granted to colonists who, alongwith the benefits they brought for the king, were also Catholic. The royal authorityrelied on colonists since the land inhabited by the schismatic was considereddesertum, lacking any Western religious or even economic organization. Eventhough in the frontierland, left unpopulated to defend the kingdom’s borders(the system of indagines, gyep?), we may admit that the population had beenevacuated, it is hard to believe this happened in a very wide area50. If we crossinto Moldavia, we will notice that we are dealing with a territory inhabited byan Orthodox population, which is suggested by sources both before the descãlecat,and after it. Some-where south or east of the mountains (in the east, more likely),after the bishopric of Cumania was established (1227), 13th century documentsmention the valahi, who have their own pseudoepiscopis, and who had Grecorumritum51. The same Orthodox in the Moldavian area, this time after Moldaviawas founded and had emerged as a principality, would strive via their leadersto officially create religious establishments in their own country, a processwhich was set in motion under Petru I52. This is why Dragoº and his men,representatives of the Catholic king of Hungary, in whose name they came toseize this land, met a non-Catholic population here. The recreation of the ancientCatholic bishopric of Cumania, this time called the bishopric of Milcovia (1347)53,clearly reveals that this land needed to be organized on political, demographical,


but also on urban grounds. What had previously existed here, a world at the edgesof Europe, under the sway of Mongol heathens, did not meet Western stan-dards,which was much better organized in those times.

Back to the foundation of towns, which is an integral part of the foun-dation process for the entire country (descãlecatul), we may say that it capturesthe state of affairs in early Moldavia. Other sources have already told us whatthe chroniclers confirmed as well, that Baia, Siret or Suceava are among thefirst urban settlements in the country. As for Baia, Simion Dascãlul indicates thathe found his inspiration in a form of the so-called Letopiseþ unguresc, which didnot endure to this day54. The role of Saxons in the foundation of Baia is supportedby recent research55. Baia is one of the few medieval Moldavian towns whereample archaeological research was undertaken, which was not only aimed atchurches of times past, but also ancient dwellings and their inventory. Unfortuna-tely, their scope fell short of the entire surface of the old town. An analysis ofthe discovered dwellings led researchers to claim that we might argue for asystematic topographic outline of inhabited space. The parcellation of land isrigorous and resembles the Transylvanian one. Archaeologists had a hard timepinpointing a date when this parcellation occurred (before or after the Germancolonists moved in)56. What we know for a fact is that settlers took up residencehere after an older pre-urban settlement was set on fire, after this territorycame into the hands of the troops dispatched by the Hungarian king in mid14th century (Dragoº?)57. It was in Poland and Hungary as well that settlershad a new land to set themselves up, while the locator, the one bringing themhere, was charged with measuring and distributing the land58. In Baia, it is possiblehe had received land previously used by the locals and devastated after the conquest.Since the locals were not accustomed to a rigorous parcellation, the newcomerswere the ones that reshaped the plots. The fact that they did apply the new layoutis suggested by another detail specific to town outlines in the rest of Europe:the existence of a central marketplace59. On its sides, dwellings are more frequentthan on secondary streets, indicating that the new inhabitants sought to makethe most of what little space they had, since the trading venue was most proficienthere60. Baia is different than other towns in the Romanian-in-habited area, wheretraditional local markets were open and did not follow any specific outline. Alongwith the marketplace, there were traces of stone-paved roads and houses withtiled stoves, only specific at that time to princely residences or towns in CentralEurope or Transylvania61. Research confirms that settlers began arriving in Baiain mid 14th century, before the Principality of Moldavia finished emerging. TheHungarian king encouraged their settling east of the Carpathians for political rea-sons, to reinforce control over this area. We can rightfully credit him with grantingthe first privilege for the community here. Political reasons were compoundedby economic issues. Settlers could harness the resources of the place and direct


them towards markets in Transylvania. A proof to a shift in economic focus isprovided by the ceasing of trade exchanges with southern areas62. The newcomersalso had special legal rights. The leader of the community could preside over verysevere cases and pass capital punishments, a rare occurrence in Moldavian towns63.It was from this period that the town seal was kept, which was marked by thesymbol of a decapitated stag, whose head is looking onward and is bearing Christon a cross between the horns, St Hubert’s symbol. The legend is Latin: SIGILLUMCAPITALIS CIVITATIS MOLDAVIE TERR(A)E MOLDA-VIENSIS (The Sealof the capital city Moldavia in the Moldavian Country)64.

Chroniclers seem relatively determined in their belief that Roman was builtby the ruler with the same name. Some historians accept that a link existed betweenRoman I and this town, others deny it, but no one could express a coherent state-ment on how Roman could influence the town’s emergence. Under the nameof Roman’s târg, the settlement is also noted by the Kiev list65. Despite Roman’sshort reign, between 1391 and 1394, the years 1387 and 1396, when the listof Kiev was drafted, allow us to connect the list and the growth of Roman’s târg66.It was assumed that Roman, as Petru I’s brother, resided in the stronghold hebuilt here prior to his reign67. Ever since 1386, dominus Roman issued a docu-ment concerning some Polish merchants robbed in Moldavia68. The two broth-ers were probably on good terms, since Roman is mentioned in the documentwhereby Wladyslaw Jagiello, king of Poland, asks Petru for a loan totalling4000 silver roubles (1388). The king vows to return the loan and pledges thetown of Halych and its land as a guarantee for Roman and his [Petru’s] chil-dren69. Roman is noted before the children, since he was already considered afollower to the throne, as he was also ruling as associate. He was preferred as asuccessor to the throne, at the expense of Petru’s two sons70. There have beenattempts to connect the town of Roman with another Roman character, who hadsupposedly lived before Petru I71. This another Roman is not mentioned any-where. Romanian historical tradition noted one single Roman for this age, theprince from 1391-1394. The adoption of the ruler’s name involves foundationor relocation on new grounds. A similar case exists in Poland, that of the townof Kazimierz, founded by king Casimir III in 133572.

In many cases where no text documents the principles which underlie a town’screation, we must seek other signs in the outline of that settlement. A few Romanianresearchers (Eugenia Greceanu and Emil Ioan Emandi among them) have shownthat, to a certain extent, town outlines in Moldavia and Wallachia follow prin-ciples encountered in settlements created by German colonists throughout Europe73.Their theories were disregarded. The town outline for Roman has no less thanthree parallel streets stemming from the main marketplace which separated thesettlement and the stronghold74. The road entering town from south-west alsostopped in the marketplace and the area that these streets delimited is set apart


by a very dense parcellation75. The parallel outline of streets and the existenceof a regular marketplace in the centre contradict the wide-spread assumptionof Romanian historians, who believe that most towns grew spontaneously bythemselves. Towns without a deliberate outline grew over time, without any spe-cific order, along the roads that entered the settlement and converged into onecentral point, where both the marketplace and the seat of local authority exist-ed (the ruler’s residence). Instead, parallel streets developed as part of a plannedevolution, since this type of development only partly relied on the course of olderroads. These streets followed a straight line, indicating that they did not evolveby themselves, but following a precise indication of the plots that bordered them.The type of urban evolution based on two or more parallel streets, connectedby a marketplace at the end can also be found in other Moldavian towns (Suceava,Iaºi), in Walachia (Câmpulung, Piteºti) or Transylvania (Sibiu, Cluj, Braºov,Bistriþa)76. The town seal provides further arguments. It has a Latin legend, anobvious indication that it was created by and for a group of Catholic settlers:+ S(IGILLUM) CIVIUM DE FORO ROMANI + (+ The seal of townspeople inthe târg of Roman +)77. The legend reveals that when the community was grant-ed the right to self-representation by such an item, the settlement had not com-pletely graduated to town status.

We have already shown that Neculce tied the emergence of the town of Siretto Dragoº. This story is not present in any of the previous chronicles, neitherthat of Ureche, nor that of Miron Costin. Neculce did not rely on Nicolae Costin’sLetopiseþ either, even though he was his contemporary and was familiar withthis chronicle. He only mentions the building of the Volovãþ church by Dragoº,without mentioning other details78. It follows that this story was the result ofhis creative work, drawing on oral accounts that circulated in the Siret area79.Another oral account, recorded in modern times, considered Sas, son of Dragoº,to be the one who had erected the residence and the church80. In this case, recentresearches do not fully back up the information in the chronicle, but do notcompletely invalidate its claims. What is certain is that Catholic colonists playeda major part here as well, as they were responsible for urbanizing the settle-ment. We do not know whether Dragoº brought the settlers or not, but whenLaþcu ruled, they were here, since this ruler had negotiated the creation of abishopric in Siret in 1371. For the Catholics, but also for the Dominican monksarriving here, Margaret, mother to Petru I, built the church of St John the Baptist.The church’s location, in the middle of the marketplace, shows the important roleGerman settlers had in creating the town, its significance in the communitybeing proven by St John’s presence on the seal81. This is one of the few centralmarketplaces in Moldavia where a church stands in its middle. Only Suceava isanother instance of this, with the Armenian church of St Mary. In other towns,the church or the churches only bordered the marketplace. The German’s vast pres-


ence in Siret is proven by the town’s mention in documents as an influential Catholiccentre82, but also by the grey ceramic that is associated with them83. The settlersoccupied the central area of the settlement, where research indicated high habi-tation density. The dense dwellings, their line of work and the items uncoveredled archae-ologists to claim that in the latter half of the 14th century the settlementhad the features of an urban centre84.

In Suceava, archaeological excavations indicate a substantial growth of theinhabited space for the end of the 14th century, which is apparently owed tothe arrival of a group of foreigners. On a timeline, their arrival coincides withthis town becoming a capital for the country under Petru I, who also built twostrongholds near the town. We can easily identify the place where the Armeniancommunity dwelled, in the north-west quarter of the town. Since they were most-ly merchants, the Armenians had the marketplace as their landmark. However,we cannot accurately locate where Saxons and Hungarians settled, since no Catholicchurch of the time has survived to this day. The fine grey ceramic, which is at-tributed to Germans, was found all over town, and in the neighbouring strong-hold of ªcheia as well85. Previous researchers believed their presence here can onlybe related to the construction work on the ruler’s palace and two nearby strong-holds, but an expansion in the scope of items uncovered shows we are dealingwith simple tradesmen and artisans86. A approach to the Catholic communityin Suceava only becomes more intricate if we were to admit they built a Catholicchurch near the palace of the prince. A short distance from it, the church, rela-tively large, does give rise to certain dilemmas. The ruler would not have allowedany such construction to be built without setting up or allowing Catholics to set-tle in there, since the church catered to their spiritual needs and not to the Catholicentourage of the ruler, as it was claimed87. The palace also had within it (in thegarden), its own Catholic church, whose inception stage is not however known88.To further complicate things, it was recently asserted that the church discov-ered near the palace actually housed an Orthodox monastery, dated 139589.The identity of this building is still disputed, since it had a pair of towers by itsfacade, towers which are not a feature in Orthodox buildings. This church, whetherCatholic or not, vanished at the beginning of the 15th century. Further north, anew Catholic church emerged90.

Modern outlines confirm the existence of a central, trapezium-shaped mar-ketplace in Suceava, which was later broken down into two sub-markets. Urbanisticresearch by Emil Ioan Emandi showed that the initial outline and surface for thismarketplace were of around 20 hectares, while the town had around 100 hectaresin the Middle Ages91. The marketplace also relied on the Saxons and Hungarianssettling in at the end of the 14th century, on the north-east side, and of theArmenians, on the north-west. The relatively regulated features of the area, aswell as the two parallel streets that developed at its end indicate a certain par-


cellation of the land. Later outlines confirm a high density in plots, which wererectangular in shape. As with other towns, the narrow side of the plot, facing thestreet, had the houses aligned contiguously92. This judicious land use is backedup by archaeological research, which located the cellars beneath the medievalhouses93. To conclude, in Suceava, the grounds for this town’s emergence involvedtwo separate groups, the Catholics (Saxons/ Hungarians) and the Armenians,who could only settle in the mar-ketplace and near the ruler’s palace with his con-sent and support.

All this supports the significant role played by foreign settlers in urbanizingSuceava. The interpretation regarding the Hungarian name of Suceava is encoun-tered both in Miron Costin’s work, and in that of Simion Dascãlul, and eventhough the former was aware of the latter’s contributions94, it may stem in anexplanatory legend that circulated at the time, without being actually inventedby one of the chroniclers. The so-called Transylvanian origin of Simion Dascãlul95

was supposedly the cause of this information, even though linguistic researchon the Simion’s language in the chronicle does not support this theory96. InHungarian, szðcs indeed meant furrier and since a sizeable Catholic communi-ty, with its own church, had lived in Suceava up to mid-16th century, the leg-end probably connected it with previous historical facts.

It was still on the subject of Suceava that Grigore Ureche mentions thebuilding of the St Demetrius church by Stephen the Great in the târg, to cele-brate the victory in Codrul Cosminului (where he had called for St Demetrius’help)97. Even though archaeologists claimed this place of wor-ship actually belongedto Peter Rareº98, part of the historians also take into consideration the theoryof this church being first built by Stephen99.

T HE ENVIRONMENT of former colonists arriving into Moldavia also tiesin with other traditions, that chroniclers combined with accounts extract-ed from foreign chronicles. The legend of the Roman robbers, combined

with the battles against the Mongols waged by St Ladislas, inserted by SimionDascãlul, were supposedly based on the same Hungarian chronicle mentionedabove. Petre P. Panaitescu supports the theory that it existed100, while I.C. Chiþimia,Dumitru Velciu and others believe Simion Dascãlul had never laid eyes on anysuch work101. Along with possible sources in the Polish environment (for the storyof the robbers), we cannot rule out a possible influence from a version of theMoldavian Russian Chronicle102, that Simion may have had access to103. As forSt Ladislas’ battles against the Mongols, he may have added information fromother sour-ces in the Catholic Hungarian environment of Moldavia104. Townshere had, until mid-16th century, major Hungarian communities (especially in theLower Country), where St Ladislas was also worshipped, a widespread prac-tice in the Hungarian environment. A significant detail is that the seal from


the modern period of the Catholic community in Bârlad allegedly had theimage of St Ladislas kneeling and looking at Virgin Mary, seated on a cloud105.We are not aware of how old this seal was, but it is the presence of St Ladislasthat gives rise to a dilemma. We would have considered this seal to be of recentdate if Marco Bandini, when mentio-ning the earthen stronghold near Bârlad,would not have recorded another local account, which included Ladislas:

[…] two stadia away from the market town, there lay the ruins of a Mongolfortress, on the shore of the Bârlad [river], where the Mongols had defended whenking Ladislas pursued the Scythians victoriously around 1236.

This is one of the two occurrences when St Ladislas is mentioned in Bandini’sCodex106. Coincidentally, Simion Dascãlul’s fabrications, those connecting the col-onization of Maramureº by Roman robbers and the battles against the Mongolsto the same Ladislas were recorded at the same time as Bandini travels throughMoldavia107. St Ladislas’ worship had reached full flight in the 14th century, andhe was worshipped because he had battled the heathen, in a time when newbattles were waged, this time with other pagans, the Mongols; from Hungary,through settlers, this cult reached Moldavia108. It was no accident that I.C. Chiþimiasaw this legend, as well as that of Iaþco the beekeeper, as grounded in populartradition109. Previously, Petre P. Panaitescu, following Onciul’s line110, accepteda pos-sible scholarly origin from Hungary, without taking into account the factthat Hungarians crossing into Moldavia could have perpetuated the legend aspart of the cult of St Ladislas, writing into it information which had to dowith their own tradition and which regarded Hungarian campaigns against theMongols in mid-14th century. Even though it was placed against an inappropri-ate historical background and was adopted inadequately by chroniclers, this infor-mation can be a starting point towards the emergence of Hungarian commu-nities in Moldavia, an emergence which is also related to the emergence of towns.

Other details in chronicles regarding towns are probably founded on real fact,even though time left its traces, and some further additions distanced themfrom the original corpus of information. The extensive work undertaken byStephen the Great in Iaºi was misinterpreted later on by chroniclers, who attrib-uted to him the foundation (descãlecat) of the târg, even though the town hadalready existed for a century111. If this information were not be a fabrication, asthose ascribed to Simion Dascãlul or Misail Cãlugãrul, it could lead to a possi-ble confirmation by Stephen of the old town privilege, as he had done in Vasluiand Bârlad112. The statement which credits voivode Iuga with the foundationof towns, villages, and ocoale must have also had its grounds. The author of theinterpolation adopted the account which claimed that one of the first Moldavi-an rulers had played an important part in the development of the country at


one point. Since this ruler could not have been Iuga, who only ruled for approx-imately one year, it was another ruler who had partly been the drive behindthis process. Two rulers fit this profile: Peter I (chronicles do not provide toomuch information on him) and Alexander the Good. They both had longer reigns,and both were tactful in their internal and external policies; in their time, thecountry began to push forward and to develop. The fact that, when it describesAlexander the Good’s reign, Misail Cãlugãrul provides a lot of information onthe administrative and clerical organization of the country could hint at Alexandru.On the other hand, Peter I is the one who erected several strongholds, andalso contributed greatly in the development of Suceava and Siret113.

The presence of the Genovese in chronicles as the founders of strongholds canbe explained by the significant part they played in the 14th-15th centuries insome of Moldavia’s oldest towns, Cetatea Albã and Chilia. After 1261, the Mongolsallowed the Genovese to set up in their lands in Crimea (at Caffa and Sugdaia),then in Cetatea Albã. In the latter, the Genovese are first mentioned in 1290114.Cetatea Albã develops from mid 14th century on and the modification of the mainpath in the “Mongol route,” which already crossed Moldavia in c. 1380, con-tributed to the town’s emergence. After a final Mongol episode115, Cetatea Albãenters the dominion of Moldavian princes (c. 1377-1378) 116 which were main-ly interested in owning the fortress, but also the customs point, which broughtsignificant income117. On the mouth of the Danube, Kilia was at an even greateradvantage, thanks to the same Genovese merchants. A settlement with proba-ble Byzantine origins existed here at least since the 13th century, and was men-tioned in the 1241 invasion118. Recent research claims that two settlementsexisted by the Danube, at Kilia: a Byzantine stronghold, called Licostomo, on anisland where the Kilia branch flowed into the sea, and another, Kilia, further with-in, on the waterway. The precise location of the two is still debated119. Kiliaowes its ascent to the decline of its rival town, Vicina, whose commerce was dealta heavy blow after the Genovese-Byzantine war of 1351-1352. Afterwards, theByzantines lost their foothold on the Lower Danube, and Kilia entered Genovesecontrol120. Notary Antonio di Ponzò’s 1360-1361 records show the town to havehad a very active trade, with a wealthy and highly mobile Genovese colony121.In one single century, Kilia went through various reigns: Wallachia, Moldavia,and Hungary122. From 1465 until 1484, the town, and the stronghold itself, rebuilton the other bank of the Danube by ªtefan the Great (1479) belonged toMoldavia123. As was the case of Cetatea Albã, it is assumed that the townspeo-ple of Kilia enjoyed autonomy. Essentially, these harbours by the sea emergedon Byzantine foundations, with Genovese contributions and in a climate ensuredby Mongol domination. The impact that these towns had on other Moldavianurban centres was mostly economic, and it affected trade before anything else.The rulers had political and military interests here, namely special strategic


positions and bringing supplementary income in the treasury. The two townswere not long under Moldavian rule. Moldavian rulers held Cetatea Albã foraround one hundred years, while Kilia was in this situation for only three decades.

The Genovese were then a major factor in urbanizing towns by the Danubeand Dniester deltas, as well as in erecting fortresses here. Even so, chroniclersoverstated the importance of these sailing merchants, since they had a minor rolewithin the country, with economic, rather than military contributions. We mustnot, however, rule out completely the contribution of Italian builders in the con-struction of the fortresses at Hotin, Suceava or Neamþ, without it being docu-mented by sources. The construction type falls into a pattern used at that timein Poland124, and architects have identified some wall fragments which would sup-port the theory that specialists from the Polish-Baltic areas participated in theworks125.

Whereas relatively frequent mention is made to towns in chronicles, especiallyto large urban centres, where the main events unfolded, the townspeople donot enjoy the same popularity. With the exception of several anecdotic accounts(Neculce), the townspeople seem to weigh little in the affairs of Medieval Moldaviansociety. Other categories, such as the peasants, do not receive better treat-ment126. Even though the chronicles were limited in their perception of socialaspects, the townspeo-ple were indeed secondary in social, demographic oreconomic matters. They were few in number, and, even if some are wealthyand influential127, their power was no match to that of the boyars. The incon-sistent policies of the rulers, as well as the destructions they suffered (pillaging,fires, earthquakes) prevented towns from reaching the prominence that similarsettlements in Western Europe had.

The attitude that chroniclers had towards towns was influenced by theirorigin and background. They were all boyars, and some, like Ureche, was a descen-dant of the old boyars of Moldavia. Based on documents preserved, those con-ducting research on his family, especially ªtefan S. Gorovei and Dumitru Velciu,state that the oldest certain traces revealing the age of the Ureche male linereach Stephen the Great. Boyars named Ureche are also present in Alexanderthe Good’s council, but they could not be directly associated with the futureUreche family. Instead, a connection appeared on the female line, so the rootsof the family could even reach the first rulers of the country128. We cannot ruleout that some of the information adopted in the chronicle (initially by Urecheand then by Simion Dascãlul), which cannot be explained by written sources, hadtheir source in the oral accounts kept, in the scholar’s family, or in other boyarfamilies129. Their members displayed an awareness of their belonging to a spe-cial category of people, the elite of the country, so we may consider them astrue ‘repositories’ of historical information. This is why accounts preservedorally (but also in writing, indirectly, via property documents) in old boyar


families could play a major role in transmitting historically-significant informa-tion over time.

M ODERN RESEARCH confirmed a large part of the chroniclers’ statements,and even those of the interpolators, and this reinforces the historicalvalue of the information on the emergence of Moldavia and of its towns.

Some of these statements are certainly not derived from written sources usedby chroniclers, but from local historical tradition. We should also reconsiderthe role of interpolators, since not all their interferences with the text compro-mised the original chronicles, and not all introduced false information. Some evencame to complement the chronicle, even though they did not match the style andthe clarity of the original.

Of course, we can criticize the chronicles and their authors for the inaccura-cy of their information, especially when it comes to the early days of the coun-try. However, in our desire to make up for the lack of solid historical sources,we would be asking too much of them. Their authors did not intend to pro-vide us with a historical source, but with their own view on the history of theircountry, a view which could only be biased130. The fact that they turned into ahistorical source has to do with a later approach, when historical research maturedand, using the chronicles, proposed several historical theories regarding eventsof the past. Chroniclers were the historians of their time, and, despite theirserious limitations, must be judged as such.

�

Notes

1. N.A. Ursu, ‘Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei pânã la Aron Vodã. Opera lui SimionDascãlul’ [The Chronicle of the Land of Moldavia up to Voivode Aron: TheWork of Simion Dascãlul] (I-II), AIIAI, XXVI (1989), pp. 363-379; [AIIX] XVII(1990), pp. 73-101 (namely the conclusions: pp. 94-101).

2. Ureche seems to have had Eustratie logofãtul (chancellor) as his forerunner, whosework was, however, lost (Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei [The Chronicle of the Landof Moldavia] edited by P.P. Panaitescu (Bucharest, 1958), pp. 24-25, 39-40).Even though the existence of Eustratie was also challenged, the fact he is referencedso often by various chroniclers leads us to believe that the person and his work werereal.

3. Dumitru Velciu, Grigore Ureche (Bucharest, 1979), pp. 190-191.4. Ureche, Letopiseþul, p. 73 (see Panaitescu’s considerations at p. 29).5. Ibid., p. 71.6. Ibid., p. 73.


7. Ursu, ‘Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei’ (II), pp. 95-96.8. Ureche, Letopiseþul, p. 75.9. Ibid., p. 103.

10. Velciu, Grigore Ureche, p. 270.11. Ureche, Letopiseþul, p. 108.12. Ibid., p. 78.13. Ibid., pp. 116-117, 136, 140, 152.14. Cronicile slavo-române din sec. XV-XVI publicate de Ioan Bogdan [The Slavic-Romanian

Chronicles from the 15th-16th Centuries published by Ioan Bogdan], edited by P.P. Panaitescu (Bucharest, 1959), pp. 11-12, 20-21, 78, 91.

15. Nicolae Cartojan, Istoria literaturii române vechi [The History of the Old Ro-manian Literature,] editors Rodica Rotaru, Andrei Rusu (Bucharest, 1996), p. 286.

16. Miron Costin, De neamul Moldovenilor [On the <Origins of the> Moldavians],in Idem, Opere [Works], edited P. P. Panaitescu (Bucharest, 1958) p. 241. Thisedition also includes Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei [The Chronicle of Moldavia], Cronicapolonã [The Polish Chroncle], Poema polonã [The Polish <Epic> Poem].

17. According to Dan Zamfirescu (Contribuþii la istoria literaturii române vechi[Contributions to the History of the Old Romanian Literature] (Bucharest, 1981),p. 117), Miron Costin, by his Cronica polonã, opens the way to the diplomacy ofculture, conducted by the means of journals which would inform foreigners on the coun-try, the land, the history of the Romanians.

18. Costin, Letopiseþul, pp. 47-50; Idem, Cronica, pp. 202-209, 215, 217.19. Ureche, Letopiseþul, p. 67.20. Costin, Poema, p. 220.21. Costin, De neamul Moldovenilor, pp. 242-243, 247, 260. Neculce (Opere. Letopiseþul

Þãrii Moldovei ºi O samã de cuvinte [Works. The Chronicle of the Land of Moldaviaand A Sum of Words], edited by Gabriel ªtrempel (Bucharest, 1982), p. 158) alsotakes a similar stance in the preface to his chronicle.

22. He studied in Bar, Podolia (Costin, Opere, pp. 7-9).23. D. Velciu, Miron Costin. Interpretãri ºi comentarii [Miron Costin: Interpretations

and Comments] (Bucharest, 1973), pp. 58, 119-122.24. Costin, Cronica, pp. 205-206; Idem, Poema, pp. 222-223; Idem, De neamul moldove-

nilor, pp. 265-266.25. Dimitrie Cantemir, Descrierea stãrii de odinioarã ºi de astãzi a Moldovei [The Description

of the Ancient and of the Present State of Moldavia], II, edited by Dan Sluºanschi,Valentina Eºanu, Andrei Eºanu (Bucharest, 2007), p. 156; Costin, De neamulMoldovenilor, p. 266;

26. I. Bogdan, Documentele lui ªtefan cel Mare [The Documents of Stephen the Great],II (Bucharest, 1913), no. 139, p. 311. For the location of Crãciuna, see ConstantinCihodaru, ‘Cu privire la localizarea unor evenimente din istoria Moldovei: Hindãu,Direptate, Crãciuna ºi Roºcani‘ [On the Location of certain Events in the Historyof Moldavia: Hindãu, Direptate, Crãciuna and Roºcani], AIIAI, XXIX (1982), pp.629-631.

27. Costin, Cronica, p. 205.


28. Costin, Cronica, pp. 216-217; Idem, Poema (version C), pp. 390-391.29. Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 68-69.30. Costin, Poema, p. 228.31. Ibid., p. 235.32. Ibid., pp. 232-233; see also Adolf Armbruster, Dacoromano-Saxonica. Cronicari

români despre saºi. Români în cronica sãseascã [Romanian Chroniclers on the Saxons.The Romanian in Saxon Chronicles] (Bucharest, 1980), p. 162.

33. Costin, Poema (version C), p. 391.34. I. Neculce, Letopisetul Þãrii Moldovei ºi O samã de cuvinte The Chronicle of the

Land of Moldavia and A Sum of Words], edited by Iorgu. Iordan (Bucharest, 1956),pp. 12-13; D. Velciu, Ion Neculce (Bucharest, 1968), pp. 159-160.

35. This account is not included in the above-quoted edition Iordan. It was found inmss. 254, f. 177 and included in edition ªtrempel, pp. 161-162.

36. Constantin C. Giurescu, ‘Valoarea istoricã a tradiþiilor consemnate de Ion Neculce‘[The Historical Value of the Traditions recorded by Ion Neculce], in Studii de fol-clor ºi literaturã [Studies in Folklore and Literature], edited by H.H. Stahl et al.(Bucharest, 1967), p. 471.

37. Neculce, Opere, p. 183.38. Miron Costin was killed at Roman in 1691, by order of Constantin Cantemir (Velciu,

Miron Costin, pp. 117-119).39. P.P. Panaitescu, Influenþa polonã în opera ºi personalitatea cronicarilor Grigore Ureche ºi

Miron Costin [The Polish Influences on the Work and Characters of the ChroniclersGrigore Neculce and Miron Costin] (Bucharest, 1925), pp. 20-37, 83-106; Ureche,Letopiseþul, pp. 36-47; Costin, Opere, pp. 30-31; Velciu, Grigore Ureche, pp. 271-305.

40. Published in Cronicile slavo-române.41. Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 24-25, 39-40; Panaitescu, Influenþa polonã, pp. 53-57.

References in chronicles: Costin, Poema, p. 220; Idem, De neamul moldovenilor, pp.242-243, 260-261; Neculce, Opere, pp. 157-158. Velciu (Grigore Ureche, pp.237-242) disputes the existence of this chronicle too.

42. Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 64-65.43. Neculce, Opere, p. 161.44. Ibid., p. 158.45. Costin, Letopiseþul, p. 166; Velciu, Grigore Ureche, pp. 305-307.46. Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 66-71; Costin, Poema, pp. 229-233. See also Cronicile slavo-

române, p. 156, 160.47. Nicolae Zaharia, Mircea Petrescu-Dîmboviþa, Emanoil Zaharia, Aºezãri din Moldova

de la paleolitic pânã în secolul al XVIII-lea [Settlements in Moldavia from the Paleolithicto the 18th Century] (Bucharest, 1970), pp. 141-143, 148.

48. ªtefan Pascu, Voievodatul Transilvaniei [The Voivodate of Transylvania], I (Cluj,19722), pp. 126-128; Thomas Nägler, Aºezarea saºilor în Transilvania [The Settlementof the Saxons in Transylvania] (Bucharest, 1981), pp. 149-154.

49. Piotr Górecki, Economy, Society, and Lordship in Medieval Poland, 1100-1250 (NewYork-London, 1992), pp. 273-275.


50. Pál Engel, The Realm of St Stephen. A History of Medieval Hungary, 895-1526 (London,2001), pp. 73-74; Nägler, Aºezarea saºilor, p. 143;

51. Eudoxiu de Hurmuzaki, Documente privitoare la istoria românilor [Documents regard-ing the History of the Romanians], I-1, edited by Nicolae Densuºianu (Bucharest,1887), no. 83, p. 108 (Hurmuzaki); Documenta Romaniae Historica, D, Relaþii întreÞãrile Române [Relations between the Romanian Countries], I, edited by ªt. Pascuet al. (Bucharest, 1977), no. 9, p. 20 (DRH, D).

52. ªtefan S. Gorovei, Întemeierea Moldovei. Probleme controversate [The Foundationof Moldavia. Controversial Problems] (Iaºi, 1997), pp. 174-196.

53. DRH, D, I, no. 34, p. 63. The issue of reactivating the former bishopric of Cumaniawas debated ever since 1332 (ibid., no. 22, p. 45).

54. Cronici slavo-române, pp. 156, 160; Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 46, 71.55. Details in L. Rãdvan, At Europe’s Borders: Medieval Towns in the Romanian Principalities

(Leiden, 2010), pp. 458-465.56. Eugenia Neamþu, Vasile Neamþu, Stela Cheptea, Oraºul medieval Baia în secolele

XIV-XVII [The Medieval Town Baia in the 14th-17th Centuries], II (Iaºi, 1984), pp.40-42, 46-47.

57. Ibid., I (Iaºi, 1980), p. 22; II, p. 16.58. Heinz Quirin, ‘The Colonial Town as Seen in the Documents of East German

Settlement‘, in The Comparative History of Urban Origins in Non-Roman Europe:Ireland, Wales, Denmark, Germany, Poland and Russia from the Ninth to the ThirteenthCentury, II (=BAR, International Series, CCLV), edited by H.B. Clarke, AnngretSimms (Oxford, 1985), pp. 509-510.

59. AIR, I (1865), 2, no. 290, p. 2160. V. Neamþu, Istoria oraºului medieval Baia (Civitas Moldaviensis) [The History of

the Medieval Town Baia] (Iaºi, 1997), pp. 118-119, 153-154; Oraºul medieval Baia,I, p. 156; II, p. 42;

61. Oraºul medieval Baia, I, pp. 36-37; 128-139; II, pp. 45-46.62. Ibid., I, pp. 101-102; II, p. 245. 63. Teodor Bãlan, Documente bucovinene [Documents from the Bukovina], II (Cernãuþi,

1934), no. 87, pp. 163-164.64. Al. Lapedatu, ‘Antichitãþile de la Baia’ [Antiquities from Baia], BCMI, II (1909),

p. 64; Emil Vîrtosu, ‘Din sigilografia Moldovei ºi Þãrii Româneºti’ [From theSigillography of Moldavia and Walachia], in Documente privind istoria României,Introducere [Documents regarding the History of Romania. Introduction], II(Bucharest, 1956), pp. 461-465; ªt.S. Gorovei, ‘Am pus pecetea oraºului’ [Weput the Seal of the City], MI, XII (1978), 2, p. 36.

65. Novgorodskaia pervaia letopisi starºego i mladºego izvodov, edited by A.N. Nasonov,M.N. Tihomirov (Moscow, 1950), p. 475.

66. Alexandru Andronic, ‘Oraºe moldoveneºti în secolul al XIV-lea în lumina celor maivechi izvoare ruseºti’ [The Moldavian Towns in the 14th Century in the Light of theOldest Russian Sources], RSL, XI (1965), pp. 205-210; Tezaurul toponimic alRomâniei. Moldova [Romania’s Toponimic Thesaurus], I-4, edited Dragoº Moldovanu(Iaºi, 2005), pp. XXXIII-XXXV (‘Toponimia Moldovei în cartografia europeanã


veche (cca. 1395-1789)’ [Moldavia’s Toponomy in the Old European Cartography(c. 1395-1789)]).

67. Constantin Rezachevici, Cronologia criticã a domnilor din Þara Româneascã ºi Moldova.a. 1324-1881 [The Critic Chronology of the Rulers of Walachia and Moldavia (a.1324-1881)], I (Bucharest, 2001), pp. 456-457.

68. P.P. Panaitescu, Mircea cel Bãtrân [Mircea the Old], edited by Gheorghe Lazãr(Bucharest, 2000), pp. 284-285; ªt.S. Gorovei, Muºatinii [The Muºat Family](Bucharest, 1976), p. 31.

69. Mihai Costãchescu, Documentele moldoveneºti înainte de ªtefan cel Mare [MoldavianDocuments prior to Stephen the Great], II (Iaºi, 1932), no. 164, p. 605.

70. ªt.S. Gorovei, Dragoº ºi Bogdan, întemeietorii Moldovei [Dragoº and Bogdan, theFounders of Moldavia] (Bucharest, 1973), pp 154-156; Matei Cazacu, ‘LuciusApronianus = Roman Ier, prince de Moldavie? À propos de l’expedition polon-aise de 1359 en Moldavie et de son écho en Pologne au XVe siècle’, BBRF, VIII(1980-1981), pp. 257-272.

71. ªt.S. Gorovei, ‘Istoria în palimpsest: Moldova dinainte de Moldova’ [Hidden History:Moldavia before Moldavia], RI, NS, VI (1995), 1-2, p. 172; Idem, ÎntemeiereaMoldovei, pp. 43-44.

72. Paul W. Knoll, ‘The Urban Development of Medieval Poland, with ParticularReference to Kraków‘, in Urban Society of Eastern Europe, edited by Bariša Krekic(Berkeley, 1987), p. 104.

73. Eugenia Greceanu, ‘La structure urbaine médiévale de la ville de Roman‘, RRH,XV (1976), 1, pp. 39-56; Eadem, Ansamblul urban medieval Piteºti [The MedievalComplex Piteºti] (Bucharest, 1982); Emil Ioan Emandi, Habitatul urban ºi cul-tura spaþiului. Studiu de geografie istoricã. Suceava în secolele XIV-XX [Urban Habitatand the Culture of Space: Study of Historical Geography. Suceava in the 14th-20th

Centuries] (Iaºi, 1996), pp. 263-268, 294-301; Teodor Octavian Gheorghiu, ‘Suceavamedievalã – genezã ºi evoluþie pânã în prima parte a secolului al XVI-lea. Elementemorfo-structurale’ [Medieval Suceava: Genesis and Evolution until the Middle ofthe 16th Century: Morpho-Structural Elements], HU, XII (2004), 1-2, pp. 81-82.

74. Cãlãtori strãini despre Þãrile Române [Foreign Travellers on the Romanian Countries],II, edited by Maria Holban et. al (Bucharest, 1970), p. 139.

75. Greceanu, ‘La structure urbaine‘, pp. 41-53. 76. Paul Niedermaier, ‘Dezvoltarea urbanisticã ºi arhitectonicã a unor oraºe transilvãnene

din sec. al XII-lea pânã în sec. al XVI-lea’ [The Urban and Architectural Developmentof Certain Transylvanian Towns. 12th-16th Centuries], in Studii de istorie a naþion-alitãþii germane ºi a înfrãþirii ei cu naþiunea românã [Studies on the History of theGerman Nationality and on her Fraternisation with the Romanian Nationality],I, edited by Lajos Bányai (Bucharest, 1976), pp. 143-144.

77. Vîrtosu, ‘Din sigilografia‘, pp. 475-476.78. Nicolae Costin, Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei [The Chronicle of the Land of Moldavia]

edited by Constantin A. Stoide, Ioan Lãzãrescu (Iaºi, 1976), pp. 74-75.79. Giurescu, ‘Valoarea istoricã‘, p. 443, 476; Velciu, Ion Neculce, pp. 162-163, 167-169.


80. Simeon Reli, Oraºul Siret în vremuri de demult [The City of Siret in Ancient Times](Cernãuþi, 1927), pp. 20-23, 94.

81. DRH, A, Moldova [Moldavia], I, edited by C. Cihodaru et al (Bucharest, 1975),no. 1, p. 1; Vîrtosu, ‘Din sigilografia‘, pp. 476-477.

82. Hurmuzaki, I-2, edited by N. Densuºianu (Bucharest, 1890), no. 131, p. 168.83. Mircea D. Matei, ‘Câteva consideraþii pe marginea începuturilor oraºului Siret, în

lumina celor mai recente descoperiri arheologice’ [Some Considerations on theBeginnings of the City of Suceava in the Light of the Most Recent ArchaeologicalDiscoveries], RM, XVII (1986), 2, pp. 21-23.

84. Ibid., pp. 20-25.85. Paraschiva-Victoria Batariuc, ‘Din nou despre ceramica cenuºie de la Suceava’ [Again

on the Dark Ceramics from Suceava], AM, XXV (2002), pp. 220-232.86. Gheorghe Diaconu, Nicolae Constantinescu, Cetatea ªcheia. Monografie arheolog-

icã [The Fortress of ªcheia. Archaeological Monograph] (Bucharest, 1960), pp. 72-82; M.D. Matei, Contribuþii arheologice la istoria oraºului Suceava [ArchaeologicalContributions to the History of the City of Suceava] (Bucharest, 1963), pp. 48-57, 131-151; Batariuc, ‘Din nou despre ceramica‘, p. 232.

87. M.D. Matei, Civilizaþie urbanã medievalã româneascã. Contribuþii (Suceava pânãla mijlocul secolului al XVI-lea) [Romanian Medieval Urban Civilization: Contributions.Suceava until the Middle of the 18th Century] (Bucharest, 1989), pp. 59-60.

88. Cãlãtori strãini, V, edited by M. Holban et. al (Bucharest, 1973), pp. 25, 182.89. Hurmuzaki, XIV-1, edited by Nicolae Iorga (Bucharest, 1915), no. 41, p. 18; Petre

ª. Nãsturel, ‘D’un document byzantin de 1395 et de quelques monastères roumains’,TM, VIII (1981), pp. 345-351.

90. Cãlãtori strãini, V, pp. 181-182. Gh. Diaconu, ‘Contribuþii la cunoaºterea culturiimedievale de la Suceava în veacurile XV-XVI’ [Contributions to the Study of theMedieval Culture in Suceava. 15th-16th Centuries], MCA, 6 (1959), pp. 913-923.

91. Emandi, Habitatul urban, pp. 299-300.92. Atlas istoric al oraºelor din România/ Städtegeschichteatlas Rumäniens, A, Moldova/

Moldau, fasc. 1, Suceava, edited by M.D. Matei (Bucharest, 2005), maps V-VII;Emandi, Habitatul urban, pp. 263-268.

93. Gh. Diaconu, ‘Observaþii cu privire la urmele vechiului târg al Sucevei în vremeamarilor asedii otomane ºi polone din veacul al XV-lea’ [Observations on theTraces of the Old Market of Suceava during the Great Ottoman and Polish Siegesof the 15th Century], SMIM, I (1956), pp. 267-274; M.D. Matei, E.I. Emandi,Cetatea de scaun ºi curtea domneascã din Suceava [The Residence Fortress and thePrincely Court of Suceava] (Bucharest, 1988), pp. 158-162.

94. Costin, De neamul moldovenilor, p. 242-243.95. Cartojan, Istoria literaturii române vechi, p. 253.96. Velciu, Grigore Ureche, pp. 199-203.97. Ureche, Letopiseþul, p. 103, 115.98. M.D. Matei, Alexandru Rãdulescu, Al. Artimon, ‘Bisericile de piatrã de la Sf. Dumitru

din Suceava’ [The Stone Churches from St. Demetrius in Suceava], SCIV, XX (1969),4, pp. 547-548; Matei, Civilizaþie urbanã medievalã româneascã, pp. 154-156.


99. P.-V. Batariuc, ‘Biserici dispãrute la Suceava’ [Lost Churches from Suceava], HU,XV (2007), pp. 181-183.

100. Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 46-47.101. Ioan C. Chiþimia, Probleme de bazã ale literaturii române vechi [Fundamental Problems

of the Old Romanian Literature] (Bucharest, 1972), pp. 253-260; Velciu, GrigoreUreche, pp. 226-237.

102. Cronicile slavo-române, pp. 154-160.103. Gheorghe I. Brãtianu, Tradiþia istoricã despre întemeierea statelor româneºti [The

Historic Tradition on the Foundation of the Romanian States], edited by ValeriuRâpeanu (Bucharest, 1980), pp. 155-156; Panaitescu, Influenþa polonã, pp. 35-37;Brãtianu (Tradiþia istoricã, p. 166) sees in this king Laslãu (“craiul Laslãu) a syn-thesis of several historical figures: St. Ladislas, king of Hungary, voivode Ladislasof Transylvania and Ladislas IV the Cuman, king of Hungary.

104. See also Cartojan, Istoria literaturii române vechi, pp. 252-253.105. Iosif Gabor, Dicþionarul comunitãþilor catolice din Moldova [The Dictionary of the

Catholic Communities in Moldavia] (Bacãu, 1996), p. 44.106. Marco Bandini, Codex. Vizitarea generalã a tuturor bisericilor catolice de rit roman din

Provincia Moldova, 1646-1648 [Codex. The General Visitation of All Roman RiteCatholic Churches in the Province of Moldavia. 1646-1648], edited by TraianDiaconescu (Iaºi, 2006), pp. 104-106. Bandini also relates that pieces of St Ladislaus’srelics were embedded on a cross in the Catholic church of Hârlãu (Ibid., p. 232).

107. Ureche, Letopiseþul, pp. 68-69.108. Details in Gábor Klaniczay, Holy Rulers and Blessed Princesses: Dynastic Cults in

Medieval Central Europe (Cambridge, 2002), pp. 173-194, 361.109. Chiþimia, Probleme de bazã, pp. 257-260.110. Dimitrie Onciul, Originile principatelor române [The Origins of the Romanian

Principalities] (Bucharest, 1899), pp. 96-99; Panaitescu, Influenþa polonã, p. 36,note 1; see Klaniczay, Holy Rulers, p. 189, and the legend of St Ladislas’ divine inter-vention in favour of the Hungarians and the Szeklers who fought with the Mongolsaround 1345.

111. Ureche, Letopiseþul, p. 103.112. DRH, A, III, edited by Leon ªimanschi et al. (Bucharest, 1984), no. 96, p. 188;

no. 151, p. 279.113. Rãdvan, At Europe’s Borders, p. 531, 536.114. Gh. I. Brãtianu, Recherches sur Vicina et Cetatea Albã (Bucharest, 1935), p. 102;

no. 40, p. 176; Virgil Ciocîltan, Mongolii ºi Marea Neagrã în secolele XIII-XIV.Contribuþia Cinghizanizilor la transformarea bazinului pontic în placã turnantã a com-erþului euro-asiatic [The Mongols and the Black Sea in the13th-14th Centuries: TheContribution of Genghis Khan’s Heirs to the Transformation of the Pontic Basininto the Turntable of Euro-Asiatic Trade] (Bucharest, 1998), pp. 22-31, 129-144.

115. Gh.I. Brãtianu, ‘Demetrius Princeps Tartatorum (Ca. 1360-1380)‘, RER, IX-X(1965), pp. 42-46.

116. Gorovei, Întemeierea Moldovei, pp. 200-210. See also Victor Spinei, Moldova însecolele XI-XIV (Chiºinãu, 19942), pp. 382-385; ªerban Papacostea, Geneza statu-


lui în evul mediu românesc. Studii critice [The Genesis of the Sate in the RomanianMiddle Ages. Critic Studies] (Bucharest, 19992), p. 118

117. Documentele moldoveneºti, II, no. 176, p. 630.118. Aurel Decei, ‘L’invasion des tatars de 1241/1242 dans nos régions selon la Djami

ot-Tevarikh de Fäzl ol-Lah Räsid od-Din’, RRH, XII (1973), 1, pp. 120-121.119. Octavian Iliescu, ‘Localizarea vechiului Licostomo’ [The Location of the Ancient

Licostomo], Studii, XXV (1972), 3, pp. 452-453.120. ª. Papacostea, ‘De Vicina à Kilia. Byzantins et Génois aux bouches du Danube

au XIVe siècle’, RESEE, XVI (1978), 1, pp. 69-78.121. Published by Geo Pistarino in Notai Genovesi in Oltremare: atti rogati a Chilia da

Antonio di Ponzò (1360-1361) (Genoa, 1971).122. C.C. Giurescu, Târguri sau oraºe ºi cetãþi moldovene din secolul al X-lea pânã la mijlocul

secolului al XVI-lea [Towns or Cities and Fortresses. 10th Century-Mid 16th Century](Bucharest, 19972), p. 221; P.P. Panaitescu, ‘Legãturile moldo-polone în secolul XVºi problema Chiliei’ [Moldavian-Polish Relation in the 15th Century and the Problemof Chilia], RSL, III (1958), pp. 98-102; Idem, Mircea cel Bãtrân, pp. 361-362;ªtefan Andreescu, Din istoria Mãrii Negre (genovezi, români ºi tãtari în spaþiul pon-tic în secolele XIV-XVII) [From the History of the Black-Sea: Genovese, Romaniansand Tartars in the Pontic Space in the 14th-17th Centuries] (Bucharest, 2001), pp.39-42, 46-48.

123. Cronicile slavo-române, p. 34.124. Adrian Andrei Rusu, Castelarea carpaticã. Fortificaþii ºi cetãþi din Transilvania ºi

teritoriile învecinate (sec. XIII-XVI) [Fortresses and Castles from Transylvania andthe Neighboring Territories. 13th-16th Centuries] (Cluj-Napoca, 2005), pp. 469-472.

125. Mariana ªlapac, Cetãþi medievale din Moldova (mijlocul secolului al XIV-lea-mijloculsecolului al XVI-lea [Medieval Fortresses from Moldavia. Mid 1300s-Mid 1500s](Chiºinãu, 2004), p. 112, 114-118.

126. Velciu, Grigore Ureche, p. 332.127. N. Iorga, Relaþiile economice ale þãrilor noastre cu Lembergul [The Economic Relations

of our Countries with Lvov], I (Bucharest, 1900), pp. 30-31; Radu Manolescu,‘Cu privire la problema patriciatului în oraºele Þãrii Româneºti ºi Moldovei (sec.XV-prima jumãtate a sec. XVI)’ [On the Problem of the Patricians in the Citiesof Walachia and Moldavia (15th Century-First Half of 16th Century)], Cumidava,IV (1970), pp. 93-95; Matei, Civilizaþie urbanã medievalã româneascã, pp. 94-97. See also ªt.S. Gorovei, ‘Cu privire la patriciatul orãºenesc în Moldova medievalã.Câteva observaþii preliminare’ [On the Urban Patricians in Medieval Moldavia:Some Preliminary Observations], AIIAI, XXV1 (1988), pp. 253-265).

128. Details in Velciu, Grigore Ureche, pp. 7-29.129. Chiþimia, Probleme de bazã, pp. 322-325.130. See also discussion on Costin in Velciu’s, Miron Costin, pp. 148-150.


Abbrevations

AIIAI = Anuarul Institutului de Istorie ºi Arheologie A.D. Xenopol [Yearbook of theA.D. Xenopol Institute of History and Archaeology] (Iaºi)

AM = Arheologia Medievalã [Medieval Archaeology] (Reºiþa)BAR = British Archaeological ReportsBBRF = Buletinul Bibliotecii Româneºti din Freiburg [Bulletin of Romanian Library in

Freiburg<-in-Breisgau>]BCMI = Buletinul Comisiunii Monumentelor Istorice [Bulletin of the Commission for

Historical Monuments] (Bucharest)HU = Historia Urbana (Bucharest-Sibiu)MCA = Materiale ºi Cercetãri Arheologice [Archaeological Materials and Researches]

(Bucharest)MI = Magazin Istorica [Historical Magazine] (Bucharest)RER = Revue des Études Roumaines (Paris)RESEE = Revue des Études Sud-Est Européennes (Bucharest)RI = Revista Istoricã [Historical Review] (Bucharest)RM = Revista Muzeelor [Museums’ Review] (Bucharest)RRH = Revue Roumaine d’Histoire (Bucharest)RSL = Romanoslavica (Bucharest)SCIV = Studii ºi Cercetãri de Istorie Veche [Studies and Researches in Ancient History]

(Bucharest)SMIM = Studii ºi Materiale de Istorie Medie [Studies and Materials in Medieval History]

(Bucharest)TM = Travaux et Mémoires (Paris)

AbstractHistorical Tradition, Legend and Towns in the Moldavian Chronicles

How the emergence and evolution of medieval towns are reflected in chronicles has not sparkedtoo much interest in the research field so far. Given the treatment that this information has receivedin chronicles, their authors did not seem to take a direct interest in how towns formed, howthey were organized, their vibrant urban life, and not even their inhabitants. This appearancecan be deceiving, however, since a closer look reveals that ancient texts are ripe with referencesto urban settlements.

KeywordsMoldavia, chronicles, urban settlements, historiography, tradition


I . 2 . C H U RC H , S TAT E A N D P R O F I T

1. Considérations liminaires

L E DROIT canonique englobe aussi, dans un certain sens, le droit de l’his-toire et de l’évolution des institutions juridiques, spécialités qui sont auprésent réclamées par d’autres champs juridiques. Au cours de cet exposé,

nous allons faire incursion plus d’une fois dans l’histoire des dites institutions,ce qui fait que cette partie-là ne soit pas forcément très vaste, vu que l’on offreplusieurs explications historiques au cadre de l’analyse des divers aspects concer-nant les biens temporels de l’Église.

2. La première communauté

L E CHRISTIANISME est né en Judée, région dominée par les Romains etimmergée dans un Orient hellénisé. Ses premières années, dédiées à la pré-dication de l’Évangile, ne rentrent pas nécessairement dans le champ du

droit1. L’époque a bien vu la naissance des normes de vie2, l’organisation des com-munautés de prière, pourtant l’on ne peut parler de droit proprement dit, ni d’ins-titutions ou d’organes administratifs de gouvernement. Cette période d’émer-gence serait essentielle à l’avenir pour l’établissement de la doctrine de l’Égliseconcernant les biens temporels. Néanmoins, dans ces premiers temps, les rela-tions de fraternité du petit monde chrétien ne faisaient pas recours au droit, maisà l’autorité des Saints Apôtres.

Histoire du développement de la législation canonique et civile ayant pour objet

les biens temporels de l’Église

LIVIU-MARIUS HAROSA

Étude financée par le Projet UE, FSE, POSDRU, 89/1.5./S/61104 (2010-2013)

Les Saints Apôtres ont enseigné à chaque chrétien de faire la preuve de sonamour de l’autrui par la renonciation à soi-même et à ses propriétés, dans l’intérêtde la communauté et de l’Église entière3. Ceux qui étaient frères dans la croyan-ce ne sauraient refuser la solution des litiges en collectif et la renonciation auxrichesses dans le but de parachever la renonciation à soi-même4.

La communauté primitive considérait qu’il fallait éliminer la source principaled’inégalité entre les hommes5, à savoir la propriété privée, ce qui a conduit,dans l’Église de Jérusalem, à la pratique appelée koinonia (exprimer la propriétéen commun6) en tant que « forme supérieure de renonciation à soi-même, témoi-gnage de la victoire sur le pire ennemi de l’amour et du salut »7.

3. Les personnes juridiques à l’intérieur de l’Église

L ES PREMIÈRES réunions des fidèles chrétiens, plus particulièrement la célé-bration de la Très-Sainte Eucharistie, se sont probablement organiséesdans les habitations privées, discrètement ou en secret, ce qui leur a

permis d’échapper au contrôle de la loi romaine8. Au fur et à mesure que le nombredes chrétiens croissait, ils sentirent le besoin de détenir leurs propres lieux deculte9. La question que posent les historiens du droit canonique concerne letitre sous lequel ces communautés chrétiennes primitives de l’Empire Romainjouissaient de biens immobiliers. Avant de pouvoir répondre à cette question,il est nécessaire de synthétiser le statut juridique des dites communautés.

Il n’est pas question d’équivaloir les communautés chrétiennes primitives àdes simples juxtapositions de personnes. Les liens entre les fidèles qu’assurait leurfoi commune ou encore ceux plus visibles, créés par la participation à la vie duculte, établissaient les prémices d’une organisation cohérente. Dans un légendaireextrait de son œuvre Apologétique, Tertullien décrit cette communauté par le termecorpus10, mais ses explications sont équivoques. « Nous sommes un corps créépar la communauté de foi, la discipline unitaire, les liens de l’espoir »11, écrivaitl’apologète, tout en se contentant de citer les éléments des liens (les facteurs d’uni-fication). Ce qui Tertullien ne précise pas est la nature juridique de ce « cor-pus », si c’est un groupement de facto ou bien une société de jure. Il vaut bien sesouvenir à ce point que, selon la définition de Gaius, le terme corpus pouvait conte-nir une valeur juridique12. Pour démontrer aux païens ce que signifiait « corpuschristianorum », Tertullien cite les réunions de prière collective, le fait que le grou-pe était dirigé par « les vieux qui ont fait la preuve de leurs qualités », la caissecommune dans laquelle on puisait pour soutenir les pauvres13.

Toutefois, il ne faut pas oublier que l’apologète était juriste, donc tenu deconnaître la signification du terme « corpus » qu’il utilisait14. Est-ce que l’auteur


voulait inclure les communautés chrétiennes dans la société romaine et n’avaitpas trouvé un terme plus adéquat pour les décrire et à l’aide duquel démontrerqu’elles appartenaient à l’univers du droit romain ?15

En supposant que toutes les communautés chrétiennes étaient des « corpus »,leur capacité de détenir un patrimoine n’aurait quand même pas suffit pourêtre dotées de personnalité juridique. On sait bien16 que les seuls corpus dotésde personnalité juridique étaient ceux autorisés par l’Empereur ou le Sénat, ayantcaractère de groupements « licites ». Le reste étaient « illicites », parfois mêmeinterdits ou du moins clandestins, toujours susceptibles de se faire supprimer17.

C’est bien à cette situation que s’attaque Tertullien18 lorsqu’il admet : « L’ondit que cette coalition (contio) des chrétiens est illicite ». Pour réfuter les accu-sations, il rajoute : « ... parce que les chrétiens ne font rien de mal. Tout au contrai-re, ils se montrent charitables et bienfaisants vers l’autrui »19.

Par conséquent, bien que les communautés chrétiennes ne fussent pas « condam-nables » par la loi pénale impériale, il est évident qu’elles n’avaient pas l’autorisationnécessaire pour devenir des groupements « licites », reconnus par la loi et dotés dela capacité d’acquérir des biens, de jouir de droits et d’assumer des obligations. Lesfidèles d’une religion interdite ou bannie ne pouvaient pas obtenir de tels privilèges !20

Il paraît donc que, jusqu’à la reconnaissance officielle du christianisme parl’empereur Constantin, les communautés de chrétiens ne furent que groupementsde facto, tolérés ou persécutés selon les variations de la politique impériale etsurtout selon la situation locale21. Le pouvoir impérial et les gouverneurs des pro-vinces ne pouvaient pas les ignorer, d’autant plus qu’ils connaissaient leurs lieuxde culte et leurs cimetières. Leur existence fut souvent tolérée, parfois mêmeprotégée22, et leurs propriétés furent saisies23 pendant une période ou restituéespendant une autre, tel que mentionnent les textes de l’époque. De toute façon,pendant le IIIème siècle apr. J.-C., les communautés chrétiennes disposaientd’un patrimoine immobilier important qu’elles employaient pour la célébrationdu culte ou dans des buts de charité24.

Dès l’adoption du christianisme comme religion officielle par Constantin,les groupements chrétiens ont été reconnus ; c’est toujours à cette époque-làque naquit le concept de fondation en tant que patrimoine d’affectation dotéde personnalité juridique25. A partir de ce moment-là, l’Église bénéficie d’uneimportance centrale dans l’Empire et les associations religieuses se voient ampli-fier la capacité juridique ; elles peuvent recevoir des legs, prérogative qui avaitlongtemps été refusée aux personnes juridiques, excepté l’État. Pendant l’empe-reur Théodose II26 (408-450 apr. J.-C.), le Codex Theodosianus consacre, à côtédes groupements de personnes, les œuvres « piae causae » reliées à l’Église,grâce à leur caractère : elles étaient d’œuvres charitables, tout en restant auto-nomes et distinctes par rapport à l’Église.27


Le concept allait s’appliquer à l’Église, la personnalité de laquelle se dégage dela communauté des fidèles et qui devient propriétaire de tous les biens affectésaux besoins du culte28. Ultérieurement, la même règle allait s’étendre à d’autresorganismes subordonnés à l’Église, tels les lieux de culte, les hôpitaux, les asiles,les orphelinats et aussi à d’autres situations, notamment à celles où le testateur,sans créer aucun établissement matériel, affecte tout simplement un revenu annuelà un but pieux ou charitable, ce qui constitue en fait une fondation au sens res-treint du mot.29

4. Les moyens d’acquisition du patrimoine religieux

I. AVANT LA paix de Constantin, l’Église pouvait, dans un premier temps,élire tout à fait librement, dans le cadre des lois de l’époque, les moda-lités d’acquisition et de gestion de son patrimoine30. Après le début

des persécutions31, les chrétiens se virent interdire la religion et commencèrentà cacher leur existence corporative.

Pendant cette période-là, les moyens par lesquels la communauté chrétienneprocurait les biens nécessaires au culte furent le don et la collecte32.

Les fidèles étaient toujours prêts à faire de dons et les collectes s’organi-saient seulement si lesdits dons ne couvraient pas les besoins. L’évêque célé-brait la Très-Sainte Eucharistie avec du pain, du vin, de l’encens et de l’huileapportés par les fidèles. Exceptionnellement, il était permis (en vertu du 3ème canonapostolique) d’apporter à l’Église des épis de blé et du raisin pendant la récol-te33. Le surplus (ce qui restait après la messe) revenait à l’Église, en tant que réser-ve qui allait être ultérieurement répartie par les diacres aux malades et aux pauvresqui n’avaient pas été capables de se rendre à l’Église. Dans les époques sui-vantes, l’on introduit les collectes régulières (destinées à secourir les orphelins,les veuves, les pauvres, les malades, les prisonniers et les étrangers34) et les quê-tes extraordinaires35.

II.APRÈS L’ÉDIT de Milan, l’Église a appliqué les lois de l’État et sespropres lois pour se procurer les biens temporels nécessaires à sesactivités religieuses et charitables36. Les principaux moyens employés

étaient le don, l’acquisition, le legs testamentaire et l’héritage ab intestat.

á) Les dons et les acquisitions. Dans cette période-là, le don (donatio, δωρεά),était un moyen de procurer et d’agrandir le patrimoine religieux beaucoupplus important que tout autre moyen inter vivos de s’approprier des biens tem-porels tel le contrat d’achat-vente (emptio, άγορασία)37. Qu’il s’agisse d’une forme


physique et directe (don manuel) ou de la forme classique du contrat formelou de la donation de la part des empereurs, les dons en faveur de l’Église ontjoui de certains privilèges: Dig. XXIV, I, 23; I, 12, 1-3; Nomocanon II, I,Sint at. I, Cod Just. I, 2, 23.38 Une partie des donations se faisaient toujours versle clergé, mais l’édit de l’empereur Valentinien de 370 y a mis fin, en interdi-sant au clergé de recevoir des biens par donation ou testament de la part desveuves et des vierges39 ; à partir de ce moment-là, les prêtres ont été considéréssimples administrateurs des biens de l’Église, qui était, en revanche, le seul dona-taire légal40.

â) Le testament. La plus importante modalité d’acquisition de biens pour l’É-glise par des actes pour cause de mort fut l’héritage testamentaire (ex testamen-to, έν της διαθήκες)41.

Selon les règles du droit romain, la succession testamentaire prévalait sur lasuccession légale (ab intestat). Le testament devait régler intégralement la dévo-lution de l’hérédité du de cujus, étant frappé de nullité s’il n’instituait aucunhéritier. L’héritier testamentaire devenait continuateur de la personnalité du défunt,étant chargé de payer ses dettes et ses legs en faveur des tiers42.

L’Église a toujours recommandé les actes charitables à ses fidèles. Aux yeuxde l’Église primitive et médiévale, un des moyens par lesquels le fidèle pouvaitobtenir le salut et se sauver l’âme était le legs, par le biais duquel il laissait unepartie de ses biens à l’Église pour des œuvres pieuses ; l’on trouve de telles recom-mandations chez Salvian, auteur chrétien du Vème siècle apr. J.-C., dans sonécrit De gubernatione Dei (Le royaume de Dieu) Libri IV, adversus avaritiam43.Selon la pratique de l’époque, les conciles occidentaux des siècles V-VIII excom-muniaient les successeurs qui ne rendaient à l’Église les dons pour cause demort faits par les défunts en faveur de l’Église ou des œuvres charitables.

Comme les Allemands ne connaissaient pas cette institution, le testamentromain est disparu à partir des siècles VII et VIII, restant en vigueur seule-ment dans quelques régions du sud de la France. Néanmoins, le destin du droitétant enraciné dans la vie humaine en général, l’institution périmée s’est vutrouver des remplacements telle la donation post obitum ; par cet acte, le dona-teur transmettait une partie ou tous ses biens soit directement au donataire,soit à un intermédiaire qui s’obligeait à retransmettre la donation. La donationétait irrévocable, mais l’intermédiaire gardait le droit d’usage du bien pendanttoute sa vie (l’on pourrait dire qu’il s’agissait d’une donation avec réserve d’usu-fruit). Après la mort de l’intermédiaire, la donation était remise à la personnedésignée44.

Selon le droit romain, l’intermédiaire était fiduciaire, mais ce terme a été trans-cris mal par les copistes, devenant « fidéicommissaire » ; sous l’influence du terme


utilisé pour l’offrande, il a été aussi nommé eleemonsynarius. Généralement, ladonation se faisait le jour des funérailles du testateur et l’intermédiaire devaitretourner à l’Église, où, devant le cercueil, il témoignait d’avoir rempli sa res-ponsabilité45. Toutefois, certaines législations de l’époque regardaient l’intermé-diaire comme un mandataire du défunt. Un tel mandat post mortem serait unemonstruosité du point de vue du droit romain, mais il était une nécessité àcette époque-là. Les vieux documents affirment que le mort prêtait son corpset ses mains – désormais inertes – à son mandataire, qui devait agir tel qu’exigépar le défunt ; celui-ci pouvait donc prêter sa personnalité au mandataire dansle but de transmettre le bien légué. Quelques actes de l’époque parlent du dé-funt qui fait la donation par la voix de son mandataire ; le défunt s’exprimait,racontait sa mort et déclarait qu’il se servait du mandataire pour accomplir ladonation46.

Une autre modalité de transmettre un bien pour mortis causa était la destina-tio, par laquelle un malade, sentant qu’il approche la fin de ses jours, faisait savoirà sa famille ou à ses amis sa volonté de faire des dons pieuses. Cet acte n’était dotéde valeur juridique que si les héritiers le transformaient en don47.

Dans le droit byzantin, la législation gréco-romaine a donné aussi à l’Églisele droit de succession sur les biens des laïcs qui étaient morts sans laisser detestament. Habituellement, les héritiers s’acquittaient de l’obligation morale dedonner à l’Église une partie des biens du défunt. Cette pratique est devenue loiau IXème siècle apr. J.-C., lorsqu’il fut décidé qu’un tiers des propriétés des pri-sonniers morts serait laissé à l’Église, pour le salut de leurs âmes au cas où l’É-tat était leur successeur48. L’empereur Constantin Porphyrogénète a étenducette loi à tous ceux qui mouraient sans laisser de testament ou d’enfants légi-times49, et Andronic Paléologue le Vieux a modifié la norme au XIVème siècle, éta-blissant la dévolution des biens du de cujus ainsi : un tiers en faveur de l’épouxsurvivant, un tiers pour les parents et un tiers à l’Église.

Une autre modalité d’acquérir des biens pour l’Église étaient les testamentspour des buts pieux. L’objet des divers testaments mentionnés par les sourcesdu droit canonique était soit l’entretien d’une église pour le salut des âmes, soitles actes charitables (donner abri aux étrangers, aux pauvres, aux malades, auxorphelins et aux enfants abandonnés, etc.). Ces actes jouissaient de privilègesextraordinaires concédés par les Empereurs byzantins tels : l’exemption d’untestament pieux de la quarta Falcidia50; l’acquittement du testament pendant lessix mois après son ouverture, le calcul des intérêts et des profits portés par letestament à partir du jour de la mort du testateur ; au cas d’un procès, l’ac-quittement du double de la valeur du testament51 si celui-ci n’était pas reconnupar les héritiers ; le droit de l’évêque d’agir en exécuteur testamentaire si letestateur n’en avait pas désigné d’autre52.


Le XIIème siècle voit renaître la connaissance du droit romain et la définition deModestinus (Digeste, XXVIII, I, l.1) réapparaît : „Testamentum est volutatis nostraejusta sententia de eo quod quis post mortem suam fieri velit”. Le droit enseigne de nou-veau que la volonté du défunt produit des effets juridiques par elle-même, sansqu’il soit nécessaire que le don soit transmis au bénéficiaire par tradition (traditio)53.

Le Pape Alexandre III54, un homme juste, décida qu’il ne fallait pas respec-ter à la lettre toutes les dispositions du droit romain, dont le formalisme alour-dissait le circuit juridique55. La décision de simplifier les normes régissant letestament a eu pour cause le décalage législatif qui marquait l’Europe Occidentale :on utilisait le testament romain en Italie, au sud de la France, aux cours séculières,tandis que le testament canonique était reconnu comme le seul apte à produiredes effets juridiques par tous les juges canoniques et dans tous les pays coutu-miers56.

Chacune des deux formes de testament pouvait jouer un rôle civile et unrôle canonique. Le testateur pouvait inclure dans un testament canonique deslegs destinés à ses parents ou amis, à côté des dons pieux. De même, un testa-ment rédigé conformément au droit romain pouvait inclure plusieurs dons enfaveur des institutions religieuses. Formellement, les deux types de testamentcommençaient par invoquer la Sainte Trinité, le Père, le Fils et le Saint Esprit,au nom desquels le testateur exprimait ses derniers vœux pour sauver son âme57.Les formules romaines étant considérées trop compliquées, elles ne s’employaientque rarement. De toute façon, aucune forme particulière n’était obligatoire ; l’as-pect vraiment important était l’approbation du testament.

Dans les instructions qu’il adressa en 1167-1169 aux juges canoniques deVelletri58, le Pape Alexandre III leur interdit d’imposer comme condition formelleque le testament se fît en présence de sept ou cinq témoins, tel qu’exigé par ledroit romain, en limitant le nombre de témoins nécessaires à deux ou trois.Son argument provenait de la Sainte Écriture, Matthieu, XVIII, 16, in ore duo-rum vel trium testium stat omne verbum59.

Dans une autre décrétale (probablement pendant les années 1171-1172), lepape désavoua une coutume qui autorisait la rescision d’un testament par manquede souscription de cinq ou sept témoins, décidant qu’il suffisait de conclure le tes-tament devant un prêtre et deux ou trois témoins pour qu’il fût valable60. Lesditstextes furent complétés par une décision du Pape Grégoire IX, qui reconnais-sait la validité d’un testament nudis verbis.

Même si le droit canonique admettait un test verbal en présence de deux outrois témoins, il était convenu, pour des raisons de sûreté, que cet expressiondes derniers vœux fût enregistrée à l’écrit61. Le plus souvent, s’il était présent,le prêtre rédigeait un document où il inscrivait les déclarations du moribond, puisil appliquait son sceau ou celui du notaire, du seigneur ou d’un prélat ou bien


le sceau propre du testateur, si celui-ci appartenait à la noblesse62. Ultérieurement,il s’institua une procédure de protection des derniers vœux du défunt contre toutecontestation (probatio ou publicatio). Après la mort du testateur, les témoins étaientquestionnés par un juge de l’Église, leurs dépositions étant inscrites dans un procès-verbal63.

En 1279, le canon du Concile de Tours stipulait que, dans 10 jours du décèsdu testateur, un des successeurs ou le prêtre devait se présenter devant l’évêqueou l’archevêque ou bien devant un magistrat exerçant la juridiction épiscopaleet devait présenter le testament en vue de son approbation par le juge canonique,au cas où le testament avait été écrit. Au cas contraire, la volonté du testateur cer-tifiée par le serment des témoins était inscrite par le juge dans une forme publique64.

On peut constater que le testament pieux était un acte pro remedio animae qui,par son caractère, ne nécessitait pas la désignation d’un héritier, condition es-sentielle dans le droit romain, sous sanction de nullité du testament. Dans l’ab-sence d’un héritier, l’accomplissement des obligations testamentaires revenait auxsuccesseurs légaux65. Le corpus principal du testament était constitué par lesdispositions visant le salut de l’âme. Par les clauses suivantes, le testateur répa-rait les préjudices produits par sa faute et disposait l’acquittement de ses dettes.L’ordre d’acquittement des legs était le suivant : le règlement des dettes et desdommages, la remise des dons pieux à l’Église et, finalement, les successeurs66.

Pour ce qui est de la succession des membres du clergé, plusieurs textes pré-cisaient que les évêques et les prêtres étaient libres de disposer de leur biens,sous condition de respecter le patrimoine de l’Église67. Les biens acquis avant l’or-dination, par succession ou bien intuitu personae pouvaient faire l’objet d’untestament ordinaire68. En revanche, les membres du clergé ne pouvait pas disposerdes biens mobiliers acquis par l’exercice de leurs fonctions ; il leur était permisseulement de faire de petites donations aux pauvres ou à leurs serviteurs. Parcontre, il était rigoureusement interdit aux moines de laisser le moindre donou legs, comme conséquence de leur vou de pauvreté69.

ã) La pauvreté du clergé. Si les membres du clergé pouvaient détenir des bienspersonnels, quelle était la distinction réelle par rapport à res ecclesiasticae?70 Dansson décret, l’empereur Gratien mit en évidence un dilemme inévitable : l’on exi-geait que le prêtre ne détînt des biens à lui, qu’il ne prît pour soi rien des biensde l’Église, qui appartenaient à toute la communauté religieuse. Mais si les biensecclésiaux appartenaient à toute la communauté, le prêtre n’avait-il pas droit à unepartie de ceux-là, même s’il avait renoncé à ses biens personnels ?71

Le texte de la glose par laquelle on interdisait aux membres du clergé dedétenir des biens est difficile à commenter72, surtout que le problème avait étéposé dans un contexte processuel (des religieux revendiquant des biens de tiers


et de l’Église), où l’on se demandait sur la légitimité d’une telle action enversl’Église. La réponse donnée ultérieurement fut négative, d’autant plus qu’ellese fondait sur les canons du Synode de Carthage de 397, qui – sous l’influencede Saint Augustin – traitait de « criminels » les prêtres ou les moines qui, aprèsêtre entrés dans l’ordre religieux pauvres, étaient devenus des propriétaires fon-ciers73. Par conséquent, il était interdit aux membres du clergé de détenir des pro-priétés, la soumission des prêtres au droit commun, où ils étaient sujets de inpatria potestate, étant pratiquement supprimée en 472 apr. J.-C.74

Néanmoins, les canons apostoliques 38, 39 et 40 reconnaissaient le droit del’évêque de prélever sur les biens de la diocèse si ses biens ne lui étaient passuffisants comme gagne-pain. L’évêque avait le droit de désigner un héritier pourses biens personnels ou acquis75.

Selon l’article C.XII des Décrétales76, les biens ecclésiaux ne sont pas la pro-priété du clergé qui les gère, ils lui sont seulement confiés ; il n’y a pas decontradiction ici : le prêtre dispose de ces biens en tant que mandataire ou –plus correctement dit – en tant que fidéicommissaire qui joue un rôle de domi-nus par rapport aux biens légués à lui pour les retransmettre à ses successeurs77.

5. La gestion des biens de l’Église

A U SEIN de l’Église primitive, l’évêque recevait tous les revenus et les redis-tribuait ultérieurement aux autres. A partir du IIIème siècle apr. J.-C.,des normes furent rédigées pour instruire les évêques comment gérer

le patrimoine de l’Église attentivement et honorablement78. Il était stipulé dansles canons des synodes œcuméniques et locaux que ni les évêques, ni les prêtresou les diacres n’avait le droit de prélever sur les revenus de l’Église plus que laquantité nécessaire pour la vie79.

Les revenus excédentaires (ce qui restait après avoir assuré le fonctionne-ment de l’Église et du culte et l’entretien du clergé) étaient destinés aux pauvres ;la gestion des biens et le degré d’utilisation des revenus tenaient à la sagesse del’évêque, qui disposait aussi des conseils de quelques économistes80. Au début,« les revenus de l’épitrachile » ne furent pas permis par l’Église, tout paiement desservices ecclésiaux étant considéré une simonie (can.29 ap; Nov. 19 Just) ; tou-tefois, lorsque les donations commencèrent à être insuffisantes par rapport auxbesoins ecclésiaux, l’État byzantin a concédé plusieurs facilités à l’Église, à côtédu casuel, que l’Église d’aujourd’hui considère tout à fait licite81.

Les lois des empereurs gréco-romains, les décisions des synodes médiévaux etles actes papaux interdisaient de conclure tout contrat qui pût affecter le patri-moine de l’Église et qui s’éloignât des buts de celle-ci82.


6. L’aliénation des biens ecclésiaux

L E BUT des biens temporels de l’Église a imposé la consécration du prin-cipe de l’inaliénabilité. Les canons de l’Église83 contiennent des disposi-tions élaborées dans le but de conserver la destination des biens ecclésiaux

et d’empêcher leur aliénation84. Le canon apostolique 38 interdit à l’évêque dese les approprier ou d’en vendre, ni même pour aider les pauvres de sa famil-le85. Le canon 15 du synode d’Ancyre établit le droit de l’Église de revendiquerles biens aliénés par les prêtres86, alors que le canon 24 d’Antioche stipule la conser-vation assidue des biens de l’Église pour l’Église87, particulièrement de ceux aliénéspendant les vacances du siège épiscopal. De même, le canon 24 du IVème syno-de œcuménique décide que les biens des monastères, une fois reçus et consa-crés, resteront toujours la propriété du monastère88. Les interdictions les plus tran-chantes se trouvent dans les canons 2689 et 3390 du Synode local de Carthage etdans le canon 12 du VIIème synode œcuménique91, qui stipule que les évêquesne peuvent pas aliéner les biens ecclésiaux en faveur des autorités publiques oude tout autre tierce personne, sous sanction de nullité ; même si le bien ecclé-sial produit des pertes, il ne peut être vendu qu’au clergé ou aux agriculteurs92.

Les lois byzantines ont établi elles aussi l’inaliénabilité du patrimoine ecclé-sial. La première mesure à cet effet a été prise en 470 par les empereurs Léonet Anthémius, qui ont interdit au Patriarcat de Constantinople tout aliénation desbiens93 (Cod. Just. I, 2, 14). L’empereur Anastase (491-518) a étendu l’inter-diction à toutes les églises et les institutions pieuses de Constantinople (Cod.Just.I,2, 17)94, alors que Justinien a complété la mesure établie par ses prédéces-seurs avec une série de novelles (Nov. 46, 67, 12) qui généralisaient l’interdictiond’aliéner les biens temporels à toutes les églises de l’empire. Cette mesure avaitpour raison la pauvreté dans laquelle se retrouvaient beaucoup d’églises qui avaientvendu leurs biens.

Il était donc interdit par principe de vendre, d’offrir en don ou de consti-tuer de charges réelles sur les biens ecclésiaux immobiliers (bâtiments, terrainsagricoles, jardins), quel que fût leur état (can. 12 Sin. VII Ec; Nov. 7, I, 3, 2),tandis que sur les biens mobiliers: vases, vêtements, livres sacrés. Par voie d’ex-ception, il était stipulé que les biens ecclésiaux pouvaient être aliénés uniquementpour poursuivre les buts essentiels de l’Église95. Les situations d’inaliénabilitéétaient signalées dans les législations canoniques et laïques de l’époque.

Ainsi, il était permis de vendre certains biens dans des situations telles lessuivantes : pour procurer des vases sacrés indispensables à la célébration duculte (Cod.Just, I, 2, 17); pour acquitter les dettes de l’Église et ses impôts (Nov.46, I; Cod.Just. I, 2,21; Nov. 120, VI, 7, 10); pour construire de nouveauximmeubles ou pour réparer et entretenir ceux existants et endommagés (Cod.Just.


I, 2,7; Nov. 120, VI, 2); pour éviter les pertes qu’aurait souffert l’Église si ellegardait les immeubles qui ne rapportaient pas de revenus, mais engendraientdes coûts d’entretien ; pour les immeubles difficile ou impossible à gérer àcause des distances96; pour payer la rançon nécessaire à la délivrance des captifs– dans ce but, il était même permis de vendre des objets sacrés (Cod.Just. I,2,21;Instit. II, 1,8; Nov. 65, préface; Nov. 7, VIII; Nov. 120, IX, ºi X)97; pour aiderles pauvres et les églises qui se confrontaient à des graves pénuries (Nov. 65, I,5) ; pour porter assistance à l’État, si celui-ci se trouvait en grave difficulté98.

Pour les situations où il était permis de vendre les biens ecclésiaux, autre-ment inaliénables, il y avait un ordre préférentiel de vente : on commençait parles biens les moins nécessaires et on plaçait les biens mobiliers avant les immo-biliers (Nov. 120, VI, 2; Nomocanon, titre II, II; Sint At. I, p.109)99 ; dans lamesure du possible, on cherchait que l’acheteur fût une autre institution ecclé-siale (Basilic. V, 2, 12). Il était interdit d’aliéner les biens ecclésiaux à des éco-nomistes ou administrateurs d’institutions religieuses, à leurs parents et alliésou à des dirigeants politiques100.

Toute aliénation devait respecter les conditions préalables suivantes : l’évêqueétudiait de manière détaillée la situation pour se satisfaire du fait que l’Églisene serait pas défavorisée, il déclarait sous serment que l’Église n’allait souffriraucune perte par la suite (Nov. 120, VI, 7) ; l’évêque devait aussi donner sonconsentement pour les biens des églises de son éparchie ; il fallait aussi obtenirl’avis du synode pour l’aliénation par l’évêque des biens appartenant à son épar-chie101, ces dernières conditions étant ad validitatem.

Toute autre aliénation des biens ecclésiaux qui ne pouvait être justifiée parla cause juste ou qui ne se retrouvait parmi les situations présentées ci-dessus étaitconsidérée absolument nulle102.

7.

DANS LA Rome antique, le droit de la période républicaine reconnaissaitde divers groupements ou corporations sans individualité juridique propre,mentionnés par la Loi des Douze Tables103. Il y avait de nombreux collèges

(corporae) de prêtres, à caractère funéraire ou d’artistes qui n’avaient pas encorereçu la personnalité juridique. « Dans le droit classique, le seul sujet des droitset des obligations était l’homme libre. Le Digeste reprends la règle formuléepar Hermogène: omne ius hominium causa constitutum est. »104

Dans un premier temps (après une longue évolution graduelle), la person-nalité juridique put être concédée uniquement à l’État, qui disposait d’un Trésorpublic (aerarium), d’organes (les magistrats) et même d’esclaves. Ultérieurement,


la personnalité de l’État a été étendue et reconnue aussi pour d’autres groupe-ments de droit public, apparus grâce au développement de l’Empire Romain,notamment à l’apparition des villes, des municipalités, des colonies.105

« Il paraît que les juristes romains ne se posassent pas de problèmes théoriquesconcernant la reconnaissance de la personnalité de l’État, le considérant, dès sanaissance, apte de détenir des biens, des créances et des débits et capable d’en-treprendre, par l’intermédiaire de ses magistrats, tous les actes de la vie juridique,même ceux qu’il était difficile de permettre aux personnes juridiques (l’accepta-tion d’une succession, par exemple), sans être tenu de respecter les formes quigéraient l’existence juridique d’autres personnes physiques et morales »106.

Pour ce qui est des associations romaines, il paraît qu’elles pussent se consti-tuer librement, sans nécessiter d’autorisation de l’État. La seule condition qu’ellesdevaient remplir était d’avoir un statut.107

En 54 av. J.-C., pendant le consulat de Cicéron et les agitations de Catilina,un sénatus-consulte a supprimé toutes les petites associations populaires, déjànombreuses et considérées des possibles foyers d’émeute. A peine rétabliesdans quelques années, elles furent de nouveau supprimées par César, pour que,finalement, leur régime juridique fût réglementé par la lex Iulia de colegiis donnéepar Octave Auguste.108

La loi d’Auguste a créé un régime qui allait subsister jusqu’à la période moder-ne du droit ; aucune société ou association ne pouvait se constituer sans l’auto-risation du Sénat109. Par contre, une fois cette autorisation concédée, si l’associa-tion était licite, elle recevait la personnalité juridique110. La personnalité civile nefaisait pas l’objet d’une concession directe de pouvoir, elle n’était pas une faveurque l’État pouvait choisir de concéder ou non. Aucun collège ne pouvait se consti-tuer hors la loi, mais, si cette condition était remplie, tout collège était doté decapacité juridique (il jouissait de droits, il pouvait recevoir des créances et s’as-sumer des obligations, sans que ses droits se confondissent avec ceux de ses membres).

Certainement, les juristes romains ne regardaient pas la personnalité juridiquecomme réalité en soi, mais plutôt comme émanation, prolongation de l’État111.Gaïus112 précisa que l’institution des collèges prenait comme exemple de consti-tution l’État (« ad exemplum reispublicae ») : tout comme l’État, un collège possé-dait des biens communs, une caisse commune et il était géré par un syndic. Parconséquent, la personnalité juridique n’est pas une imitation anthropomorphique,mais une prolongation de la personnalité de l’État113.

A partir de ce moment, un autre concept est né, à savoir celui d’universitas(appelé plus souvent corpora), duquel allait se développer la personnalité juri-dique, surtout pendant la période impériale et l’Empire tardif. Universitas étaitl’expression d’une conception organique unitaire qui voyait dans le groupe-ment collectif une émanation des membres réunis dans cette collectivité114, pourenglober aussi, ultérieurement, l’idée d’unité patrimoniale.


L’universitas apparaît donc pendant l’époque romaine sous la forme d’un sujetde droit à personnalité distincte des personnes qui la constituent115. Le mêmeillustre auteur considère qu’« universitas est tout groupe organisé et unifié, considéréunité patrimoniale du point de vue du droit et administré dans l’intérêt de lacollectivité »116.

Selon Saleilles, « la théorie romaine de la personne juridique est une construc-tion peu cohérente d’un point de vue abstrait, mais capable de fournir toutesles solutions exigées par les nécessités pratiques. »117

Pour ce qui est des fondations ou des universitates bonorum du droit canoniqueclassique, on les retrouve jusqu’à la période impériale tardive seulement sous formede libéralités concédées aux collèges ou aux municipalités dans un but déterminé,sans qu’elles fussent considérées des personnes juridiques distinctes, sujettes àdroits et obligations.118

Au Moyen Âge, avec le développement soutenu des institutions ecclésialeset du droit canonique119, au fur et à mesure que la propriété de l’Église se construi-sait, les glossateurs redécouvrent le concept d’universitas.

Les glossateurs médiévaux font la distinction entre universitas personarum(groupes de personnes) et univesitas rerum (groupes de biens), divisant ces der-niers en universalités de droit et universalités de fait.120 Les canonistes ont dégagédans l’existence de ces universitas une caractéristique commune qui ne dépen-dait pas de leur contenu, créant un nouveau concept qui exprimait l’idée d’en-semble et l’appliquant aux multiples hypothèses particulières du droit romain(héritages, troupeaux, etc.). La dissociation de l’ensemble par rapport au conte-nu a été qualifiée de manière plus avancée dans les universalités de biens dedroit par la notion de subrogation réelle.121

De plus, l’apparition et le développement en Allemagne des communautésagraires Genossenschaft, terme qui désignait un groupement de personnes liées pardes rapports de confraternité et de solidarité, ont contribué – par la forme spé-ciale d’indivision de ces associations, « la propriété en main commune », Mitei-gentum zur gesamten Hand122, à la découverte moderne des théories sur la per-sonnalité juridique.

Sous l’influence toujours plus forte du nominalisme dans la scolastique,grâce à la pensée de Saint Thomas d’Aquin (sa philosophie reconnaissait à lavolonté le pouvoir de représenter le réel par de signes extérieurs), les cano-nistes, surtout Bartole, ont été les premiers à créer la notion de persona ficta(personne fictive) pour désigner certaines universitates (notamment les monastères,les fondations charitables, etc.)123

Ce fut ainsi que naquit la notion de personne morale, qui n’a pas eu de suc-cès dans la pratique de l’ancien droit français et, après être ignorée par le CodeCivile napoléonien, a été analysée correctement seulement au XIXème siècle,dans le droit positif.124 Il est important de souligner que, pendant la naissance


du concept de personne juridique, il s’appliquait à tous les corpus, désignantnon seulement la corporation proprement dite, mais aussi la fondation (qui avaitoriginairement été traitée comme institution juridique distincte, mais qui fut ulté-rieurement comprise dans la conception romaine de corporatio ou universitas).125

Il faut aussi préciser que, dans le droit français, à cause de l’importance tou-jours plus grande que gagnaient les associations et les corporations religieuses,qui avaient le droit d’acquérir des biens et de détenir un patrimoine, l’État a essayéde les soumettre à son autorité, de les réglementer et d’empêcher l’augmenta-tion démesurée de leur richesse126, car elles « ouvrent toujours la main pour acqué-rir, mais la ferment pour ne pas aliéner ».127

C’est ainsi que, pendant la Révolution française, la doctrine juridique a vutriompher le principe selon lequel les corporations étaient soumises à l’autoritéde l’État, leur existence étant liée à l’autorisation concédée par le pouvoir laïque.Il faut tout de même remarquer que, à l’instar du droit romain antique, cetacte ne concédait pas de personnalité juridique, se limitant à rendre l’existence dugroupement licite128.

Dans le droit roumain ancien, la notion de personne morale ne fut pas théo-risée, mais dans la vie réelle il y avait de « personnes juridiques », comme l’ondirait aujourd’hui129. Bien que les textes de loi écrits, fondés sur les principesdu droit romain reçus par le biais des nomocanons byzantins [particulièrement« l’Hexabible » de Constantin Harménopoulos130, « Cartea Româneascã de Învãþã-turã de la Pravilele Împãrãteºti – Pravila lui Vasile Lupu » (1646) et « Îndrepta-rea Legii cu Dumnezeu. Pravila Mare sau Pravila lui Matei Basarab » (1652)], neconsacrèrent pas les personnes morales, elles ont été reconnues par la coutume,de sorte que ces « entités juridiques » étaient créées par la simple volonté des fon-dateurs, qu’il s’agît de monastères ou d’églises (faisant objet du droit d’édifica-tion), d’écoles, d’hôpitaux ou de corporations d’artisans131. La personnalitéjuridique existait dès le moment de la fondation, l’autorisation du voïvodeayant un simple rôle de confirmation et de publication du droit de propriété.132

�

Notes

1. Voir: J. Gaudemet, Storia del Diritto Canonico. Ecclesia et Civitas, Ed. San Paolo,Milan, 1998, traduction du français, p.17.

2. Fr.Terré, Introduction générale au droit, 5e éd., Dalloz, Paris, 2000, p.10-11; Voiraussi pour les détails A.Sabeta, Ritorno del sacro e nuovo bisognio de esperienza reli-giosa : un fenomeno contemporaneo tra segno di speranza e ambiguità dans Collana diPastorale Universitaria, Per un nuovo umanesimo in Europa – atti del simposio euro-


peo « Università e Chiesa », a cura di L.Leuzzi e G.P.Milano, Vicariato di Roma,Pastorale Universitaria, ed. Cantagalli, Vatican, 2005, pp.14-21.

3. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, Drept Bisericesc, vol. I, édition imprimée sous la bénédiction deSa Très Haute Sainteté dr. Laurenþiu Streza, Archevêque de Sibiu et Métropolite deTransylvanie, Sibiu, 2006, p.199.

4. V.de Paolis, I beni temporali della Chiesa, Edizioni Dehoniane Bologna, secondaed, 2001, p.246-248 ; I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.199.

5. Il s’agit ici des hommes libres, car à l’époque l’Église ne se prononçait pas ouver-tement contre l’esclavage, V. J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p.26 ; F.Ciardi, Koinonia. Itinerarioteologico-spirituale della comunità religiosa, ed. Citta Nuova, Roma, 1990. p.48.

6. Pour des développements concernant koinonia, voir : L.-M.Harosa, Bunurile tem-porale ale Bisericii, tezã, nr.35, Excurs ; F.Ciardi, op. cit., p.41-56 ; Y.Congar, Les bienstemporels de l’Eglise d’après sa tradition théologique et canonique, dans Eglise et pauvreté,(Unam Sanctam 57), 1965, p.247 et suiv.

7. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.200.8. V. J. Gaudemet, op. cit., p.124 et suiv.9. La confusion entre chrétiens et juifs, qui permettaient aux premiers de jouir des

droits des derniers pour constituer des « associations autorisées » a été trop brèvepour offrir une solution. Pour des développements, voir G.Longo, Comunità cris-tiane primitive e „res religiosae”, dans BIDR 18-19 /1956, p. 45-89.

10. Tertullien, Apologetica, apud. I.G. Savin, Apologetica, (Collection : « LuminãtoriiLumii »), Ed. Anastasia, Bucarest, 2000; 39,1: „Noi suntem un corp unit prin aceeaºicredinþã...”,

11. Tertullien, op. cit., 39,1.12. « Ceux qui ont reçu l’autorisation de former un corpus peuvent détenir des biens

communs, [de l’argent gardé dans une] caisse commune, un syndic agissant pourleur compte, dans leur intérêt commun ». Gaius, „Comentarii la Edictul provin-cial”, L.III, de Digeste 3,4,1,1 apud. de P.Fr. Girard, Textes de droit roman publiéset annotés, Librairie Nouvelle de Droit et Jurisprudence, Paris, 1923, p.443.

13. Par exemple, au milieu du IIème siècle apr. J.-C., Marcion a offert en don la sommede 100.000 sesterces à une église de Rome (voir Tertullien, De praesc.heret. 30) apud.J. Gaudemet, op. cit., p. 125.

14. Idem, p.125.15. Ibidem.16. V. infra, nr.7.17. Ibid.18. Tertullien, Apologetica, 39,20.19. Ibidem.20. J. Gaudemet, op. cit., p. 126, nota 52. Certains historiens du droit romain (De Rossi,

Mommsen, Loening, Allard etc., apud. J. Gaudemet) ont pensé qu’ils pouvaientécarter cette difficulté en supposant que la majorité des communautés chrétiennesétaient du fait assimilées aux associations populaires, les collegia tenuiorum et, toutcomme celles-là, jouissaient de reconnaissance légale. (Pour des détails sur ces


associations, voir Fr.de Robertis Causa funeris, Causa religionis. Le communità cris-tiane tra normativa statale e messagio evangelico, SDHI, nr. 52/1988, p. 239-249.)Cette hypothèse, qui n’était fondée sur aucune preuve textuelle, a été rejetée parR.Saleilles, De la personnalité juridique, Histoire et théories, 2e ed. Paris, LibrairieArthur Rousseau, 1922. p. 62-69. Dans le même sens, Fr. de Robertis, Causafuneris, Causa religionis. Le communità cristiane tra normativa statale e messagioevangelico, dans SDHI, nr. 52/1988, p. 24,1, qui montre que les chrétiens ne fu-rent pas admis dans les collegia tenuiorum.

21. Pour les persécutions contre les chrétiens, voir J. Gaudemet, op. cit. p. 26-35.22. Dans Historia Augusta (Vita Alexandri, 49) il y a mention sur une décision attri-

buée à Sévère Alexandre, qui a restitué aux chrétiens un temple (espace public) qu’ilsse disputaient avec une corporation des propriétaires de tavernes. „Si non e vero...”V. J. Gaudemet, op. cit., p.126.

23. Ou, du moins, la clôture ou l’interdiction d’utiliser les cimetières, conformémentaux édits de Valérien de 257 apr. J.-C. (abrogés par son fils Gallien) ou de Dioclétiende 303 apr. J.-C. J.Gaudemet, op. cit.,p. 126, note 56.

24. Ibidem.25. Pour des détails concernant le développement des communautés chrétiennes à l’é-

poque de l’Empire Romain et leur persécution, voir I.N. Floca, op. cit., p. 172-176.26. V. Wolfgang Schuller, Der Kaisers aus Rome, C.H. Beck´sche Verlagsbuchhandlung

(Oscar Beck), München, 1997, p.450-457.27. V.: H, L et J. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, Leçons de droit civil, tome I vol 2, Les per-

sonnes, 8e ed.par Fl. Laroche-Gisserot, Montchrestien, Paris 1997, op. cit., p.320.28. H. Capitant, Introduction a l´étude du droit civil, 4e ed. A. Pedone, Paris, 1923, p.

199. Comme expression de la jurisprudence canonique actuelle et de l’interpréta-tion officielle de CIC 1983, le canon 204 alin. 2, „Haec Ecclesia, in hoc mundo utsocietas constituta et ordinata, subsistit in Ecclesia catholica, a succesore Petri et episcopisin eius communione guvernata” (Cette Église, constituée et ordonnée dans ce mondecomme société, subsiste dans l’Église Catholique, gouvernée par le successeur SaintPierre et par les évêques en communion avec lui.) V. Congregatio Pro Doctrina Fidei,Literrae Communionis notio, Ad Catholicae Ecclesiae Episcopos de aliquibus aspec-tibus Ecclesiae prout est communio, 28 mai 1992, dans AAS 85 (1993) p. 838-850. Aussi, La Constitution Apostolique Dogmatique Lumen Gentium, 21 nov.1964, AAS 57 (1965) p. 8, 9, 14, 22, 38.

29. V.: H. Capitant, op. cit., p. 199; F.K.von Savigny, Histoire du Droit Romain au MoyenAge, Ed. Chez Charles Hingray, Paris, 1839, vol.I et II, dans vol.II, p. 39. Pourles discussions sur la fondation canonique non autonome, regardée comme acte juri-dique distinct de la personne juridique-fondation, V. L-M.Harosa, Aspecte privindreglementarea fundaþiilor pioase în codurile de drept canonic (codex juris canonici ºi codexcanonum ecclesiarum orientalium) ale bisericii catolice dans Culegere de studii In ho-norem C. Bîrsan, L. Pop, ed. Rosetti, Bucarest, 2006, no.131 et suiv.

30. V., pour des détails; I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.202-203 ; J.Gaudemet, op.cit., p.20-26.


31. V., pour des détails: J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p.26-35. E.Dumea, op. cit., p. 37-44, quimontre que le plus ancien exemple de persécution organisée par l’autorité romai-ne date de l’année 64, lorsque Néron (54-68) a incendié Rome. Pour connaîtreles préliminaires de cet incident, il est nécessaire de lire le texte de Tacite des Annales(Tacite, Annales, XV, 44), qui affirme que l’empereur même se fit coupable del’incendie de 16 juillet qui a détruit plusieurs quartiers de la cité. Pour s’en discul-per, Néron, selon le témoignage de Suétone (Suétone, De Vita Caesarum, Claudius,XXIX, 1), « a condamné les chrétiens à la torture, [car ils étaient] une peupladequi avait embrassé une superstition nouvelle et coupable ». Tacite (Annales, XV, 44)est plus franc : « Pour faire disparaître les murmures concernant la destruction deRome, Néron a accusé certains individus ignobles à cause de leurs infamies. Ils sontappelés chrétiens par le peuple et ce nom provient de Chrestos, qui, sous Tibère,avait été condamné au supplice par le Procurateur Ponce Pilate. Réprimée pourquelque temps, l’ignoble superstition s’étendait de nouveau, non seulement en Judée,le berceau de ce fléau, mais aussi à Rome, où pénètre de tous côtés tout ce quipeut être de plus atroce et infâme. D’abord, l’on arrêta ceux qui professaient leurfoi... puis une grande population (ingens multitudo), sous l’accusation non pas tel-lement d’avoir mis feu à la ville, mais surtout à cause de leur haine envers le genrehumain (odium humani generis)... ». Cette dernière expression traduit le termegrec misanthropia. Une communauté qui menait une vie différente (à savoir chré-tienne) paraissait suspecte. Et le passage de la différence d’habitudes vers les habi-tudes inhumaines était très rapide, d’autant plus que la civilisation gréco-romaineétait considérée le modèle suprême de philanthropia (umanisme). Ibidem. Les persé-cutions ont continué, plus rares ou plus fréquentes, sous Domitien, Trajan, Hadrien,Septime Sévère, Dèce, Valérien, Gallien et Dioclétien.

32. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.202 ; V. de Paolis, op. cit., p.61-62 ; J.Gaudemet, op.cit., p. 124-128.

33. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, ibidem.34. Ibidem. St. Justin, Apol. I, 67 ; 35. Tertullien, Apologetica, 39, 20 ; Actes 11, 27-30.36. N.Milaº, Dreptul Bisericesc Oriental, traduction selon la deuxième édition alleman-

de par D.I.Cornilescu et S.V.Radu, révisée par I.Mihãlcescu, Tip. Gutenberg, Bucarest,1915, p.428 ; J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p.128-132 ; V. de Paolis, op. cit., p.61 ; I.N.Floca,S.Joantã, op. cit., p.203 et suiv.

37. N.Milaº, op. cit., p.431.38. Idem, p.203.39. Ibidem.40. V. V. de Paolis, op. cit., p.62.41, V.: N.Milaº, op. cit., p. 428; J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p. 572-573.42. V.: A.Dumas, dans R.Naz, C. De Clerq, C. Lefebvre, F. Claeys Bouuaert, E.Jombart,

A.Dumas, A.Molien - Traité de Droit Canonique. Tome 7, Prescription, La propriétéecclesiastique, Succesions, 2 ed. Ed.Letouzey et Ané, Paris, 1965, p.1900.

43. V.: A. Dumas, dans R.Naz et alii, op. cit., p. 1199-1200.


44. Ibidem.45. Ibid.46. Idem, p.1191.47. Ibidem.48. La novelle de l’empereur Léon le Philosophe dans Zahariae, Jus greco-romano-

rum III, 128, apud. N. Milaº, op. cit., p. 429.49. La novelle de Constantin Porphyrogénète dans Zahariae, op. cit., III, 276, apud. N.

Milaº, ibidem.50. Novelle 131, canon 12, Basilic. V, 3,13. En vertu de la Lex Falcidia et du droit romain

tardif (Digeste XXXV, 2,1), un testament était valable uniquement au cas où les héri-tiers légaux reçoivent un quart du total des biens ; si le testateur a laissé d’autresdispositions, l’héritier a le droit de déduire de chaque testament ce qui est nécessairepour atteindre le quart (quarta Falcidia). V. N. Milaº, op. cit., p. 430.

51. Instit. Justin. VI, 6 § 19; 52. NoV. 131, can. 11 (Basilic. V, 3,12). 53. V. A. Dumas, op. cit., p.1191-1192.54. V. Administration Pontificale de la Basilique Patriarcale Saint-Paul, Les papes. Vingt

siècles d’histoire, Librairie Editrice Vaticane, Vatican, 2004, p.81.55. Les collections de décrétales De testamentis et ultimis voluntatibus (Les décrétales

de Grégoire IX, livre III, tit.XXVI, Le Sexte, livre III, tit.XI, Les clémentines:livre III, tit.VI).

56. V. A.Dumas, op. cit., p.1192.57. Idem.58. (Col.Jaffe-Watenbach, cat.11480) apud. A.Dumas, ibidem.59. Ibidem.60. Ibidem.61. Idem, p.1193.62. V. J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p. 562.63. V.: A.Dumas, op. cit., p.1193-1194; J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p.562.64. V. A.Dumas, op. cit., p.1194.65. Idem, p.1195.66. Ibidem.67. Decr.Gratian, causa XII, q.V.c.1,c 2, c.4, c.5; Les décrétales de Grégoire IX, livre

III, tit.XXVI, c.1, c.7, c.9.68. V. A.Dumas, op. cit.,p. 1195.69. Ibid.70. V. C. Twagirayezu – L’activité patrimoniale illicite pour les clercs selon le Code De

Droit Canonique (c.286). Evolution historico-juridique et nouvelles perspectives - Tezã- Pontificia Universita’ Lateranense, Institutum Utrumque Juris, Roma 1992, p.13.

71. V. C.Twagirayezu, op. cit., p.13-14.72. „Si ergo res ecclesiae non quasi propriae, sed quasi communes habendae sunt, cum de com-

muni nullius dicat, hoc meum est, nec de rebus ecclesiae, hec mea est, potest aliquis dice-re, ne videatur non imitari caritatem illorum, in qua nulli aliquid erat proprium, sederant illis communis omnia. His ita respondetur: Sicut perfectione caritatis manente secun-


dum discretionem ecclesiasticarum facultatum distributio fit dum aliis possessiones huiusecclesiae ad dispensandum commitunntur, ex quibus, licet res ecclesiae omnibus debeantesse communes, primum tamen sibi et suae ecclesiae deseruientibus necessaria subminis-tret… nec tunc rebus ecclesiae ut propriis, sed ut communibus utilitatibus deseruiturus…”apud. C.Twagirayezu, op. cit.,p. 14.

73. Saint Augustin prêchait contre les mercenaires qui dans l’Église cherchaient non pasDieu, mais une modalité d’éviter les difficultés du monde et d’y échapper. V.C.Twagirayezu, op. cit., p.15-16.

74. V. J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p.174.75. V. C.Twagirayezu, op. cit., p.17.76. Idem,.p. 18.77. C.XII,1,3, ad possidebat… Ergo aliquis potest possidere rem, cuius non potest habere

proprietatem, sicut serus dicitur possidere. 78. V. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.209.79. V. I.N.Floca, Canoanele Bisericii Ortodoxe, lucr.cit., passim.80. Sf.Augustin, De oficiis, II, c.21, apud. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.210. V.: V.ªesan,

op. cit., p.249-250 ; N.Milaº, op. cit., p.433-435.81. V.: I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.210 ; N.Milaº, op. cit., p.437-438.82. V. N.Milaº, ibidem.83. Le canon 38 apostolique; le canon 24 du IVème synode œcuménique; le canon 15

d’Ancyre ; le canon 24 d’Antioche; les canons 26 et 33 de Carthage; le canon 2de Cyrille d’Alexandrie.

84. V. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.210.85. V. I.N.Floca, Canoanele...ouvr. cit., p.28.86. Idem, p.179: « Quant aux biens de l’Église vendus par des membres du clergé autres

que les évêques, que l’Église en réclame la restitution. Il revient à l’évêque dedécider de récupérer le prix ou non, car très souvent le revenu apporté par lesbiens vendus dépasse le prix .»

87. Idem, p.202 : « Il vaut bien garder les biens de l’Église pour l’Église, avec toute assi-duité, en bonne conscience et avec foi de Dieu le tout-voyant et le juge. Ces biensdoivent être gérés par le jugement et mis sous la charge de l’évêque, auquel l’on aconfié le peuple entier et les âmes de ceux qui se rassemblent dans l’Église. Les prêtreset les diacres entourant l’évêque doivent être informés quels biens appartiennent àl’Église, de sorte que rien ne soit caché et que, s’il arrive que l’évêque rende l’âme,les biens de l’Église ne soient pas perdus ou absents et les biens personnels de l’évêquene soient pas confondus avec ceux de l’Église... »

88. Idem, p.86.89. Idem, p. 237 ; Le canon stipule que seul le synode puisse décider sur l’aliénation des

biens ecclésiaux.90. Idem, p.240 : « Il fut décidé aussi qu’un religieux ne vende aucun bien de l’Église dans

laquelle il a été ordonné sans en prévenir l’évêque et que les évêques ne vendent desterrains de l’Église sans en prévenir le synode ou les autres membres du clergé... »

91. Idem, p. 162.92. Pour des développements sur ce canon, V. N.Milaº, op. cit., p.438.


93. V. I.N.Floca, S.Joantã, op. cit., p.211.94. Idem, p.211.95. Ibidem.96. Ibidem.97. Ibid.98. Ibid.99. Idem, p.212.

100. Ibidem.101. Ibid.102. V. N.Milaº, op. cit., p.438.103. V.: Coord.Y.Eminescu, Subiectele colective de drept în România, Ed.Academiei R.S.R.,

Bucarest, p.7, H, L et J. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, Mazeaud H et L., Mazeaud, J.,Fr.Chabas - Leçons de Droit Civil. Les personnes. La personnalité. Les incapables. par Fl.Laroche-Gisserot, Tome 1, vol.II, 8 ed., Montchrestien, Paris, 1997 p. 313, 320.;H. Capitant, Introduction a l’étude du Droit Civil, 4 ed, Ed. A.Pedone, 1923, p. 196;E. Lupan, D.A. Popescu, A. Marga, Drept Civil. Persoana juridicã, Ed.LuminaLex, Bucarest, 1994, p. 8.

104. Y. Eminescu, op. cit., idem, avec les auteurs cités dans les notes 1 et 2.105. H., L., et J. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, op. cit. p. 320; H. Capitant, op. cit. p. 196-

197; R. Saleilles, De la personnalité juridique, Histoire et théories, 2e, ed. Paris, LibrairieArthur Rousseau, 1922, p. 25.

106. P.Fr. Girard, Manuel de Droit Roman, 6e ed., p.241, apud. H.Capitant , op. cit. p.196, note 2. Pour les mêmes conclusions, M.D. Bocºan, Observaþii privind concep-tul de persoanã juridicã, Juridica, 3/2001, feuillet 125, ainsi que les auteurs citéspar le même auteur à la note 4. V. et: A. Lefebvre-Teillard, De quelques fondementcanoniques du droit des personnes et de la famille dans le droit civil français dans L´Egliseet le droit, Aix-En-Provence, IDHC, 1998 p. 80, F. Ferrara, Teoria delle personegiuridiche, UTET ed. Milan-Turin, 1923, p.100, M. Vauthier, op. cit. p.43.

107. V.: H. Capitant, op. cit. p. 197, Y. Eminescu, op. cit. p.8, H.,L., J. Mazeaud, Fr.Chabas, op. cit. p. 320, N. Ferrara, ibidem. R. Saleilles, op. cit. p. 57

108. R. Saleilles, Ibidem.109. V.: H.L. et J. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, op. cit., ibidem., H. Capitant, op. cit., p.197-

198. Il est facile de retrouver ici l’adage par lequel les juristes de l’ancien droit françaisconsidéraient la personnalité une émanation du pouvoir; « L´on ne se peut assemblerpour faire corps de communauté sans congé et lettres du Roy », Loysel, apud. H., L.,J. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, op. cit. p.321.

110. V.: H. Capitant, op. cit. p.198, M. Vauthier, op. cit. p. 44 et suiv. Pour l’opinioncontraire selon laquelle les associations licites auraient besoin d’une autorisation spé-ciale pour obtenir la personnalité, V. M. Vauthier, op. cit. p. 290.

111. V. F.K. von Savigny, op. cit., vol.I, p. 274 et suiv.112. D.3,4,1, cité par P.Fr. Girard, Textes de droit roman. Publiés et annotés p.443., F.K

von Savigny, op. cit. p. 275.113. H.J. et L. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, op. cit., p. 320, R. Saleilles, op. cit. p. 80.114. R. Saleilles, op. cit. p.77.


115. Idem, p. 78., F.K. von Savigny, op. cit. p. 276.116. Ibidem. Selon la formule d’Ulpian, si quid universitati debetur, singulis non debetur, nec

quod debet universitatis singuli debent, citée par Y. Eminescu, op. cit., p. 9.117. Ibidem, p. 114-115.118. Idem, p. 150, H. Capitant, op. cit. p. 198, H.L.J. Mazeaud, Fr. Chabas, op. cit. p.

320, Y. Eminescu, op. cit. p. 9-10.119. Pour le développement du droit byzantin orthodoxe, V. I.N. Floca, op. cit., p. 90-

1106, et pour le catholique, G. Le Bras, C. Lefèvre, J.Rambaud, L’âge classique...,p. 103-127, J.Gaudemet, op. cit., p. 13-15.

120. V.: A. Lefevbre-Teillard, op. cit., p.66, Fr. Zenati, Mise en perspective et perspectivesde la théorie du patrimoine, RTDCiv 2/2003, p. 668, ainsi que les auteurs cités à lanote 5.

121. Fr. Zenati, op. cit., idem.122. V.: M. Vauthier, op. cit., p .91; Y. Eminescu, op. cit., p. 11; R. Saleilles, op. cit.,

p. 224-225. L’auteur offre quelques explications très intéressantes sur l’indivisionen main commune (zum gesammte Hand) pendant le Moyen Âge. Ce genre depropriété commune était différente de la simple copropriété, par ce que l’indivisairene pouvait pas disposer de sa partie sans le consentement des autres et n’avait qu’undroit éventuel dans le partage des biens indivis. Cette forme de propriété indiviseen main commune se situait au milieu de la distance entre l’indivision ordinaire d’unepart et le patrimoine commun dû à la personnalité juridique d’autre part. L’institutiona survécu uniquement dans le droit allemand et celui suisse, étant disparue dudroit français.

123. V.: A. Lefebvre-Teillard, op. cit., p. 67 et suiv., M. Michoud, La théorie de la person-nalité morale. Son application au droit français, par L.Trotabas, Tome 1 et 2, L.G.D.J.,2 ed, Paris, 1924 p. 302-303, R. Saleilles, op. cit., idem, Fr. Zenati, op. cit., p. 671.

124. Fr. Zenati, idem.125. Y. Eminescu, op. cit., p. 11.126. H. Capitant, op. cit., p.200-201. Par l’édit de 16 novembre 1629, el était interdit

d’édifier de monastère dans le Royaume de France sans la permission expresse duroi. Par l’édit de 7 juin 1659, aucune communauté religieuse, séminaire ou confré-rie ne pouvait se constituer sans que l’on reconnût son utilité évidente et sans l’agré-ment du roi ; un autre édit encore, celui de 1749, a introduit la règle selon laquel-le les communautés ne pouvaient recevoir aucun legs, ni à titre gratuit, ni onéreux,sans que le don se fît pour une cause juste et nécessaire (en plus, avant de faire ledon, l’acte devait recevoir l’autorisation royale). De même, les communautés étaientconsidérées incapables d’acquérir par libéralité testamentaire des biens immobiliers.(H.Capitant, ibidem.) V., et aussi: R.Saleilles, op. cit., p.240; G.Le Bras, C.Lefèvre,J.Rambaud, ouvr.cit., p. 131 et suiv.; M.Vauthier, op. cit., p.220; H., L., et J.Mazeaud,Fr.Chabas, op. cit., p.321-322.

127. Selon la formule célèbre de Pothier, apud. H.Capitant, op. cit., idem, note 2.128. H.Capitant, op. cit., p.202.129. Pour le développement du sujet, voir M.D.Bocºan, op. cit., p. 125 avec les auteurs

cités, ainsi que la remarquable monographie du même auteur, Testamentul. Evoluþia


succesiunii testamentare în dreptul roman, Ed.Lumina Lex, Bucarest, 2000, p.129-131.

130. Le nom Hexabible (collection de six livres) désigne un abrégé de tous les codesbyzantins, ouvrage dans lequel l’auteur, Constantin Harménopoulos, a repris en1345 les divisions de la matière des Basilicales (collection monumentale de loisromaines-byzantines, divisée en 60 livres et compilée sur ordre des empereurs BasileIer le Macédonien et de son fils Léon VIème le Philosophe en 910-911, période oùelle a été aussi publiée, devenant le code officiel et le plus compréhensif de l’EmpireByzantin). Ce code a été appliqué de manière officielle dans les Principautés rou-maines jusqu’à l’apparition du Code Civile et il a encore survécu longtemps aprèsce moment. En même temps, il a servi de Code Officiel de l’État grec jusqu’à laseconde moitié du XXème siècle. Pour des détails, voir: I.N.Floca op. cit., p.104; L.Stan op. cit., p.24 et suiv.; M.Bîrlãdeanu, Obiceiul juridic în pravilele româneºtitipãrite, dans Studii Teologice, nr.1-2/1962, p.45 et suiv.

131. V. M.D. Bocºan, op. cit., idem.132. Ibidem.

AbstractAn Historical Outline of the Development of Canon and Civil Law

Legislation regarding the Temporal Estates of the Church

Starting with its inception in Judea, in a province of the Roman Empire, integrated into a HellenicOrient, Christendom needed specific tools to foster its institutional structuring in view of reachingits social development in the early Middle Ages, especially in terms of temporal goods. Therefore,this study addresses the development of the Church and Canon law by profiling its specific norms rela-ted to the property issue. During the early stage, brotherly relationships that characterized the smallChristian world did not have recourse to a structured law system, instead they relied on the authori-ty of the Holy Apostles. A key role was played by the formation of legal entities deriving from theChurch, consisting however, until the Constantinian peace, of actual groups, tolerated or hunted accor-ding to the whims of imperial policy and especially according to local circumstances. Anyway, in the3rd century A.D. Christian communities owned a significant number of real estate properties employedfor religious or charitable purposes. Starting however with the adoption of Christianity as state reli-gion by Constantine, Christian associations were recognized and religious associations extendedtheir legal capacity; they may receive bequests, a privilege that had been denied for a long time tolegal entities, except the State. Under the emperor Theodosius II the Codex Theodosianus includes,besides groups of people, charitable acts „piae causae”, connected to the Church, because they pursuedthe same charitable purpose, remaining however distinct from the Church in terms of autonomyand distinct personality. After the Edict of Milan, the Church used State law and, subsequently, its ownrules to acquire temporal goods necessary for the conduct of its religious and charitable activity. Themain means used were donations, purchases, testamentary and “ab intestat” successions.

KeywordsCanon law, historic, community, legal entities, donation and pious causes, testaments.


ROMANIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY has not yet convincingly and explicitly devel-oped a research direction on the history of the elites, or, in any case, it has nei-ther raised investigations in this domain to the conceptual and methodologicallevel of western historiographies, nor has it systematically exhausted the researchfield and problematics that might be subsumed under this name. At the same time,it is undeniable that there have, indeed, been meritorious attempts in this direc-tion, in the older or more recent historiography,1 just like it is also true that a seriesof distinct historical research domains concerning the Transylvanian and, ingeneral, Romanian realities of the eighteenth-twentieth centuries may contribute,through the results accomplished so far, to defining the history of the elites. Thus,somewhat more visible domains of Romanian historiography, such as the histo-ry of the political and national emancipation movement of the Romanians fromthe Austrian, and later on, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the history of educa-tion and culture, and ecclesiastical history, comprise a series of reconstitutions thatare perfectly subsumable to the history of the elites or that may be recuperatedfrom that particular perspective. In our older or more recent historiography, theusage of the term “elite”/”elites” has been rather inconsistent and erratic, havingonly been more assertively deployed in the historiographic productions of the pastcouple of decades. The denomination of the elite categories in the Romanian soci-ety has prevalently been made through the following expressions: “intellectu-als,” “leaders,” “headmen,” “intelligentsia,” which have been primarily used inresearch concerning the political and national emancipation history of the eigh-

Confessional Identity – National Identity.

The Elites of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church and the Catholic Autonomy from Hungary during the Period of Dualism (1867-1918)

ION CÂRJA

Study financed through EU, ESF, POSDRU, 89/1.5./S/61104 (2010-2013) Project.

teenth-twentieth centuries. What also deserves mention is the fact that the Romanianhistoriography of the period between 1948 and 1989 did not foster the usageof such expressions as historiographic concepts of reference, given the official ide-ologising vision the regime had imposed, according to which it was not the(“exploitative”) “elites” but the “large popular masses” that had had a decisive anddetermining contribution to the evolution of history; hence, the role of the lat-ter ought to be emphasised in historical writing.2

Highly diversified theoretical approaches to the concept of “elite” have beenproduced in international literature, from various angles and perspectives (his-torical, sociological, anthropological, literary, etc.); however, it is not the inten-tion of this study to overview them in the limited space here.3 What we wishto highlight are the most important coordinates of this concept that render itoperational also insofar as the two Romanian confessions in Transylvania are con-cerned, during the period we are focusing on here, namely the latter half of thenineteenth century. An elite would therefore represent a restricted number of per-sons in possession of resources and decisional power, placed at the top of thesocial pyramid and generally situated above the average of the society (com-munity) they represent on a cultural level. The content of this social categoryis obviously historically determined and dependent upon the specific peculiari-ties of each and every people. As regards the Romanians, who had become, bythe end of the seventeenth century, component parts of the Habsburg Empire,with a historical experience that had relegated them to the position of “tolerat-ed” or “marginal” subjects in accordance with the medieval legislation inTransylvania, the reforms carried out by the Austrian State led, in the longterm, to national emancipation and created favourable conditions for the for-mation of an intellectual elite. It suffices to mention the union of a part of theRomanians from Transylvania with the Church of Rome, as a result of the reli-gious policies promoted by the Habsburgs in Transylvania, which provided theseRomanians with the opportunity to have access to studies in Rome and in edu-cation institutions from Central Europe, and the consequent creation of anelite tier, of prevalently ecclesiastical extraction, for a long period of time.4

In this specific historical context in which the Romanians from Transylvaniafound themselves at the beginning of modern times, we may also encounter thefactors that fostered the emergence and determined the structure of the Romanianelite tier. Thus, taking into account the lack of the urban bourgeoisie or of numer-ically significant lay intellectuals prior to the nineteenth century, as well as the impor-tant part played by both the parochial clergy in the life of local communities andthe bishops at the level of the entire Romanian nation (see, in this sense, thepetitionarism initiated by the Greek-Catholic Bishop Inocenþiu Micu Klein, fol-lowed by the Supplex Movement of 1792), it must be admitted that the ecclesi-


astical elites would play the role of Romanian national elites until late into thesecond half of the nineteenth century.5 The ecclesiastical elites represented an impor-tant benchmark for the Romanians who were included within the political, statestructures of the Habsburgs also because of the contribution made by the RomanianGreek-Catholic Church to the cultural development of the nation, both throughthe schools it opened in Blaj, initially, in mid-eighteenth century and through thepossibility to connect itself to the higher education institutions from Central Europeand Italy. Thus, along these rather general lines, we should also add the fact thatthe Romanian ecclesiastical elites’ assumption of an important position on thenational level was also due to the major role confession played in defining the nation-al identity of the Romanians within the Habsburg Empire (The Dual Monarchyafter 1867). Despite the general European process of the secularisation of valuesand of society, which would visibly, though belatedly, affect the Romanian socie-ty too, confession continued to represent, up until WWI, a factor of ethnic-national identification and delineation for the Romanians from the DanubianMonarchy. This ensured that the clergy would continue to be a reference pointfor the community, both at the local and at the national levels, even after the1848 revolution, when the impact of the secular elite upon the Romanians’ polit-ical and cultural life was becoming more and more evident.

The nineteenth century was, in all probability, one of the most interesting peri-ods for the history of the Romanian elites in the Austrian/Austro-HungarianEmpire. First of all, because this was the period when a numerically significantgroup of intellectuals emerged within the Romanian nation, when, in other words,as Cornel Sigmirean’s research has relevantly shown, a secular elite became moreand more visible both in the life of the Romanian nation and outside it. Romaniansincreasingly penetrated the higher education networks of central and westernEurope, exhibiting an interest in a wide range of studies and professions: besidestheology, they also took up studying law, economics and technology.6 Consequently,at the level of the Romanian elite tier, the progressively greater number of lawyers,journalists, or practitioners of the liberal professions gradually diminished themonopoly that the clergy had exerted up to that point in the Romanian nation-al life. The result of the emergence and increasingly visible affirmation of lay intel-lectuals in the life of the Romanian nation was the reversal of power relations infavour of the secular elites. This was, of course, a gradual process, but the revo-lution of 1848-1849 was a landmark in the history of the nineteenth century, whichemphasised, at all levels, the existence of a numerically substantial layer of lay intel-lectuals, who were politically active and who were extremely willing to take chargeof the power mechanisms in the national political sphere – a most sensitive area,where the evolution of the relations between the ecclesiastical and the secular com-ponents of the Romanian elite tier was most accurately recorded.


The second half of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twenti-eth evinced all the more potently a tendency that could already be detected in theevents related to the 1848 revolution: lay intellectuals became more and morevocal as leaders of the general Romanian emancipation movement, especiallyas concerns political action. One may speak of a competition for power at thelevel of the Romanian political action within the Austrian/ Austro-HungarianEmpire, which, in the latter half of the nineteenth century was settled throughthe poignant affirmation of the lay intellectuals and through the ever moreobvious exclusion of the Episcopate from the decisional level of the Romaniancommunity in the Empire. This also occurred against the more general back-ground of the modernisation process, which entailed, amongst others, the“professionalisation” of the elites in the Romanian political movement, throughthe establishment of party structures in 1869 and 1881.7 This diminution ofthe scope of the church elite in the political life of the Romanian nation didnot mean at all that it had become a negligible force; it only meant a reversalof the roles in favour of the lay intellectuals. As mentioned above, given therole of an identity mark that confession continued to play for the Romaniansuntil the end of dualism, the clergy maintained its impact upon the life of theRomanian community, both at a central (the episcopate, the prelates) and at alocal level (the parochial clergy).

While at the overall level of the Romanian nation within the Habsburg Empire,modernisation enabled the emergence of lay intellectuals, multiplying anddiversifying the content and substance of the elite tier, a similar modernisationprocess also redounded to the ecclesiastical elite from the two Romanian Churches:in the latter half of the nineteenth century, these underwent a massive processof institutional organisation. The establishment, in 1853 and 1864, of the twoMetropolitan Sees represented for the Romanians a concurrently ecclesiasticaland national objective, whose materialisation marked the beginning of both aperiod of internal organisation on the constitutional level and ecclesiastical dis-cipline, educationally and culturally. In fact, in 1853 the Greek-Catholic Churchsecured its elevation to the rank of a Metropolitan See, its removal from depend-ence upon the Roman-Catholic Archepiscopate of Esztergom and its full canon-ical autonomy, as well as the setting up of two new bishoprics, at Gherla andLugoj. The complex period of organisation on multiple levels, constitutional anddisciplinary in particular, that followed witnessed the three provincial synods,held in 1872, 1882 and 1900.8 Equally, for the Romanians’ Orthodox Church, hier-archical separation from the Serbs and its elevation in 1864 to the status of aMetropolitan See, under the conditions of full ecclesiastical autonomy, broughtabout, especially at the level of constitutional organisation, substantial reforms,which were enacted in the well-known Organic Statute issued by MetropolitanAndrei ªaguna.9 This period of institutional renewal and or unprecedented reforms


meant, for both Romanian churches, a stricter delineation of their modes ofinstitutional functioning, and a clearer assignation of tasks and responsibilities tothe ecclesiastical personnel from the central and the local levels; in other words,we witness a more precise definition of the responsibilities (and, ultimately, of thecareer coordinates) of the ecclesiastical elite, both Orthodox and Greek-Catholic.The reorganisation of the education structures under the patronage of the twoChurches and broader access to the universities from central and western Europeled both to a qualitative increase in the ecclesiastical elites’ level of intellectual train-ing and, as mentioned before, to the creation of a widening layer of Romanian sec-ular intellectuals. It is also true, however, that despite all cultural and educationalprogress, the Romanian ecclesiastical elites maintained their poly-stratified diver-sity as regards intellectual training until much later. Thus, for instance, at thelocal, parochial level of the Romanian communities, there was still clerical personnelwith rather scant training, whose duration did not exceed several months; such wasthe case of the so-called “moralist” priests from the Greek-Catholic Church.10

These were the most important characteristics of the Romanian elites, bothsecular and ecclesiastical, at around the time the dualist partnership between Pestand Vienna was inaugurated in 1867. The onset of the new regime coincidedwith the launching of a somewhat unprecedented political-ecclesiastical projectinsofar as Catholicism in central Europe was concerned: “Catholic Autonomy,”an idea with a rather polemical trajectory throughout the entire period of theAustro-Hungarian dualism. The political and church elites, and, in particular, theCatholic Episcopate from Hungary, were responsible for the initiation and achieve-ment of this project in Hungary’s public life; responses on the Romanian sidewere also assumed and elaborated on by the elites of the Greek-Catholic Church,including its bishops, prelates, members of the teaching staff from the schoolsfrom Blaj, Beiuº, Gherla, etc. that were under the patronage of the Church,and other members of the clergy. The history of the relations between the RomanianGreek-Catholic Church and the Catholic Autonomy from Hungary is, therefore,considerably, a history of the positions adopted by the elites of Romanian Greek-Catholicism towards a project of ecclesiastical policy that was perceived as a threatto its own ecclesiastical identity.

Less studied so far in the historiography from Romania,11 the problem ofthe relations between the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church and the HungarianCatholic Autonomy represents a prolific theme that may highlight the interfacebetween the ecclesiastical and the national dimensions of the Romanian-Hungarianrelations from the latter half of the nineteenth century and the beginning ofthe twentieth. Launched in the period of the 1848 revolution, the political-eccle-siastical project of the Hungarian “Catholic Autonomy” was explicitly pro-posed through the letter addressed in 1867 by baron Jozsef Eötvös to theArchbishop Primate János Simor,12 witnessed the first attempts of systematic and


coherent elaboration in the beginning years of dualism, and saw its last “launch-ing” to the forefront of public and political life in Hungary towards the end ofthe Dual Monarchy. Catholic Autonomy was conceived as a structure meant tomanage and administer the church funds and foundations, religious educationand its institutions, to ensure the democratisation of the decisional factor inthe Hungarian Catholic Church, by co-opting lay people besides the clerics indecision making, to have a role in the appointment of bishops, and to achievethus a sort of amiable separation between the Church and State, with its evermore offensive policies levelled at the ecclesiastical institution. Catholic Autonomywas therefore a dominant topic in the political-ecclesiastical debates acrossTransleithania, for instance, between 1868-1871 or 1897-1902, but there werealso years of setbacks, when it its importance and acuity subsided.

According to the perspective envisaged by those who had conceived it, CatholicAutonomy was to comprise both the Latin and the eastern rites of the CatholicChurch from Hungary. This was perceived by the Romanian Greek-Catholicsas an infringement of, if not a downright attack against the full autonomy andcanonical independence of their own Church; these had been guaranteed fromthe moment of their entering in dogmatic union with the Church of Romeand recognised, thereafter, through a series of decrees issued by the Holy See andthrough civil legislation. Even though the attitude of the Romanian Greek-CatholicChurch was not entirely unitary and unequivocal, it constantly aimed to disavowthe projected Catholic Autonomy from Hungary, developing, as a counterreply, a defensive discourse targeted at the necessity to maintain and assert its ownecclesiastical autonomy.

The first years of the dualist regime, more exactly, the period 1868-1871saw the attempt to implement Catholic Autonomy in Hungary. The Episcopateelaborated an autonomy project, which was then sent even to the Emperor-King,without managing to satisfy any of the parties involved. After several other debates,the Hungarian national congress met in October 1870 to discuss the autono-my problem; a further session of the same congress took place in the followingyear, 1871. Regulations entitled The Organisation of the Autonomy of the Latin Riteand Greek Rite Catholic Church from Hungary were drafted and submitted there-after to the Emperor for approval, in accordance with established procedures.Denominated in the epoch with the term regulations, this document was a veri-table constitution of Catholic Autonomy and presents one of the most interest-ing formulas of organising Church-State relations in the second half of the nine-teenth century; it also attests the insertion of a democratic spirit in the elaborationof ecclesiastical policies by the Hungarian Catholic Church. The fundamental prin-ciple of autonomy organisation was the cooperation between the clergy and thelaity on all matters concerning the assignation of functions and responsibilities, pub-lic instruction and education, the administration of church properties, schools, foun-


dations, funds, etc. The sphere of rights and competences pertaining to autono-my extended therefore, according to the regulations cited above, “to all the affairsof the Catholic Church that bear on temporal things and matters.” The right of theking’s supreme patronage would remain intact, with the mention that the emper-or king would represent certain interests of the Catholic Church from Hungaryat the Holy See in cooperation with autonomy’s mandated bodies. All the mov-ables and immovables, the foundations administered by men of the Church, thereligious and study funds, as well as other Catholic funds were to be declared theproperty of the Hungarian Catholic Church. The state-administered religious fundswould be handed over to the bodies of autonomy so that the latter might admin-ister them. The bodies of autonomy would represent the Church in all the mat-ters concerning goods, education and instruction that interfered with the state’ssphere of activity. Eventually, autonomy was rejected, as a consequence of the HolySee’s opposition and the laity’s excessive influence.13

At the congresses and meetings on Autonomy from the period 1869-1871,the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church generally had an inconsistent behaviour,in the sense that the bishops from the so-called “Hungarian” dioceses participat-ed in the congresses summoned by the Archbishop Primate of Hungary, while inthe Metropolitan Diocese of Blaj the reservations expressed by MetropolitanIoan Vancea were reinforced by the attitude of the laity and of the lay elite from thenational movement. The debates on participation in the Congresses of CatholicAutonomy from Hungary revealed aspects of the complex identity of the RomanianChurch: the dioceses from the Western Parts proved to be willing, in principle,to become integrated in the body of “Catholic Autonomy” from Hungary, where-as the Archdiocese of Blaj, which was closer to the national trend in the Church,went, in the attitudes it expressed, from calculated reservations to overt opposition.The conduct adopted by the Romanian Greek-Catholic hierarchy towards the “firstwave” of the congresses occasioned by the question of Catholic Autonomy (1869-1871) was largely maintained unchanged. What was important, above all, wasthe bishop’s political-ecclesiastical position; however, the Metropolitan Diocese wasessentially the one that promoted, more strongly than any other, a discourseaimed at maintaining and asserting its own autonomy, from the period 1869-1871to WWI, as a counterpoint to the projected Catholic Autonomy from Hungary.

The problem of “Catholic Autonomy” remained unsolved for a long time, anddebates on it subsided, becoming of secondary importance in the religious andpolitical life from Hungary. It nonetheless registered a powerful comeback atthe beginning of the 1890s. A conference took place in Budapest on 11 December1890, another on 18 February 1891, rallying the participation of 100 Catholicpersonalities, who raised again the autonomy problem. A great Catholic gath-ering also too place in Budapest on 20 February 1891. Confronted with renewedinitiatives of organising Autonomy, the members of the Provincial Synod held


on 16 April 1893 to elect Ioan Vancea’s successor to the Metropolitan See adopt-ed a “manifesto” against Hungarian Catholic Autonomy and against any attemptto impose limits upon the autonomy of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church.14

The launching of preparations for the congress on autonomy, through the let-ter of 29 May 1897, which decided on the organisation of elections for the prepara-tory congress on Catholic Autonomy in Hungary, triggered a second series ofsystematic debates; throughout the duration of these, the translation into prac-tice of the project for Hungarian Catholic Autonomy was attempted. The epis-copal elite of the Romanian Church reacted just like it had done at the beginningof the dualist period. The Romanian Greek-Catholic Episcopate, represented,at that time, by Mihail Pavel (Oradea), Ioan Szabó (Gherla) and Demetriu Radu(Lugoj), met, on 23 June 1897, in a conference in Blaj, which had been con-voked by Metropolitan Mihályi. Important personalities of the Greek-CatholicChurch also attended the conference: Ioan Micu Moldovan, Augustin Bunea,Vasile Hossu and Victor Szmigelski, representing the Archdiocese, Corneliu Bulcufrom Oradea, Vasile Pordea from Gherla and Ioan Boroº from the Bishopric ofLugoj. The conference decided that bishops should not conscribe voters in theMetropolitan Province, as the Cardinal Primate’s invitation had requested, shouldnot authorise the election of deputies and should not participate themselves inthe congress. It was also decided that the Metropolitan should send two memo-rials to the primates of Hungary and the Emperor, in which they should voiceout the protest of the entire Episcopate against the inclusion of the RomanianChurch in the structures of autonomy envisaged for the Church of Latin rite.At the end of the nineteenth century, the tripartite memorial addressed to thePrimate, on 23 June 1897, was, together with one addressed to the Emperor, thefirst document of protest elaborated by the episcopal elite of the Greek-CatholicChurch against the project of organising Catholic Autonomy in Hungary. It incen-tivised the conference meeting of the Episcopate in Blaj on the grounds of thepublic feeling that had been generated amongst the Romanians by the ArchbishopPrimate’s invitation to conscribe the electors from the dioceses. The premiseon which the expository structure of the memorial was based and which wasimportant for its overall argumentation was that the agitation and concern arousedamongst in Romanians by the re-launching of the congress on autonomy werelikely to jeopardize both the foundations of Catholicism and, most of all, thesolidity of the Romanians’ union with the Church of Rome. As had been the caseeach and every time in the Greek-Catholic petitionary movement on the themeof autonomy, this memorial also presented the entire historical and judicialargumentation on which the canonical independence of the Transylvanian Greek-Catholic Church was founded, with all the familiar references to the conditionsof the union with Rome, the acts attesting the establishment of the Greek-CatholicProvince of Alba Iulia and Fãgãraº and of its suffragan bishoprics, the benchmarks


of state legislation that acknowledged its full autonomy and the decisions ofthe provincial synods. Reminiscent of the efforts undertaken by MetropolitanVancea for convoking the congress on the autonomy of the Greek-Catholic Church,the memorial reinforced this desideratum, asserting that only thus could theRomanian priests and believers be persuaded of the fact that the MetropolitanProvince was totally independent of the Church of Latin rite. The fundamen-tal desiderata of the memorial were adherence to the autonomy of the Greek-Catholic Church and the convocation of a congress for organising the latter.15

The period 1897-1902, during which there was a second series of congress-es and debates for the elaboration of the Catholic Autonomy statute, was as impor-tant and challenging for the elites of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church as theyears that would follow until the outbreak of WWI, when the project for HungarianCatholic Autonomy was superseded by the force of other events. All theseyears had witnessed unprecedented political dynamism at the level of the Episcopate,as well as amongst other members of the superior clergy; the Romanian partydeveloped a defensive, intensely polemical position as regards the general proj-ect of organising the Catholic Autonomy in Hungary. The last decade of the nine-teenth century was also one of utmost political dynamism and activism for theRomanians in Austro-Hungary, in the sense that it was the decade when theMemorandum was submitted to the Emperor (1892), followed by the trial fromCluj (1894) and the conviction of the movement leaders. Only three yearsafter the trial of the Memorandum signers, another strenuous period startedfor the Romanians, at an ecclesiastical level, this time, given the re-launchingof Catholic Autonomy. Beginning in 1897, the elites of the Greek-Catholic Churchorganised conferences, elaborated and sent memorials to the Archbishop Primateof Hungary, to the Apostolic Nunciature in Vienna and to Rome, participatedin the general congresses on Catholic Autonomy, and initiated press campaignsfor promoting their own visions and perspectives, ultimately for promoting theirown church and national autonomy.

The Romanian actions undertaken during this period amounted to a vast sequenceof events that we do not wish to insist upon here, since we have made an exten-sive presentation of it elsewhere.16 We shall briefly overview the most importantmoments of the Romanian elites’ actions on the autonomy issue from the end ofthe nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth. Thus, shortly afterthe conference of the Episcopate on 23 June, a mixed conference, gathering numer-ous participants, was held in Cluj; its final document expressed its solidarity withthe position espoused by the bishops and was also sent to the Holy See. In approx-imately the same period, Lugoj hosted another conference, with mixed clerical andlay audiences, which also adopted similar resolutions.17

The conferences of the Catholic Episcopate from Hungary held in the autumnof 1897 provided Metropolitan Victor Mihalyi with further opportunities to assert


the Romanian position. The memorial drafted by the Romanian bishops at the23 June conference was presented by Mihalyi at the conference from 27 September,then at the episcopal conference from 7 November, as well as in the letter he sentto the Archbishop Primate Vaszary on 14 December 1897. On the matter of CatholicAutonomy, a veritable “petitionary movement” of the Romanian Greek-Catholicelites gained shape throughout these years, expressing the desideratum of their ownecclesiastical autonomy. Thus, having secured the consent of his suffragan bish-ops, Metropolitan Mihalyi sent another letter on 4 May 1889, when the autono-my project had been finalised by the sub-commission comprising 9 membersfrom the 27-member commission of the congress.18 Like Mihail Pavel, the Greek-Catholic Bishop of Oradea, Mihalyi also intervened at the conference of the HungarianCatholic Episcopate from 15 September 1899 in order to present the position ofthe Romanian Episcopate on the autonomy project that had been finalised bythe 27-member commission of the congress on Catholic Autonomy. This auton-omy project sharpened debates on the Romanian-Hungarian ecclesiastical relations,triggering, both in the press and in the correspondence with the pontifical author-ities, an ample support campaign for the autonomy of the Romanian Church. Fromamongst the materials that came out in the press, what deserves mention is anarticle that is significant for this debate: Augustin Bunea’s “Autonomia ºi comisi-unea de 27,” which was published in the Unirea issue of 5 August 1899.19

The series of the Greek-Catholic protests against the project of Latin CatholicAutonomy continued with one of the most important moments in the Romanianautonomy-related factology, namely the Archdiocesan Synod held in Blaj on22 November 1899. Anticipating and preparing, at the same time, the jubilarProvincial Synod of the following year, 1900, this first synodal reunion convokedat the archdiocesan level by Mihalyi, after his taking over the MetropolitanSee, paid homage through its first decree to the act of union with Rome, whileits third decree solemnly protested against the project of Hungarian CatholicAutonomy. The first point of this decree summed up all the judicial referencesthat upheld the autonomy of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church, and itssecond point expressed the hope that the Emperor would not allow the bodyof autonomy to disregard the rights of the Romanian ecclesiastical province.20

The synod also elaborated a protest against the forced integration of the RomanianChurch in the Hungarian Catholic Autonomy, on the basis of a report draftedbeforehand by Augustin Bunea. This was one of the most elaborate and theamplest petitionary documents of the Greek-Catholic Church at the end of thenineteenth century on the topic of its position on the Catholic Autonomy inHungary.21 This protest memorial was sent to the Archbishop Primate, to theViennese Nunciature and to the Ministry of the Cults and Public Instruction;besides other remarkable previously drafted documents, it would represent,


throughout the following period, one of the fundamental programmatic docu-ments attesting the Romanian outlook on autonomy. It was sent by Mihalyi inan annex appended to his letter addressed to Nuncio Taliani on 26 January 1900.22

It was with great delay, only in the meeting of 10 March 1902, that the ArchbishopPrimate submitted this act, together with the memorial from 23 June 1897, tothe attention of the congress, which treated the matter of the autonomy of theRomanian Church in an evasive and expeditious manner.23

The final years of the first world conflagration were coeval with the re-launch-ing of the debates on the topic of organising the structures of Catholic Autonomyin Hungary and with the intensification of the interventions, contacts and cor-respondence between the factors involved, the culminating point being reachedon 21 December 1917, when the Minister of the Cults from Budapest, AlbertApponyi, presented a bill regarding Catholic Autonomy to the Deputy Chamberof the Hungarian Parliament. The year 1917 was rich in initiatives and reac-tions regarding the issue of autonomy, including those belonging to the RomanianGreek-Catholic Episcopate, which also continued during the following year. Thedissolution of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy was to postpone sine die thedenouement: the actual and effective organisation of the structures of CatholicAutonomy, which had consistently been planned and resumed throughout theprevious half century.24

The Romanian discourse on the theme of the Catholic Autonomy from Hungaryand of its possible repercussions on the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church wasextremely widely disseminated from its inception, during the first years of dual-ism, until towards the end of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy. The first morevisible aspect of the Romanian discourse on autonomy is its dynamic and polem-ical dimension. This is because the “autonomy of our own Church” – a formularesumed like a leit-motif in the Greek-Catholic interventions – was consistentlybuilt in opposition with the ideology of the Catholic Autonomy from Hungary.This identity (the Romanian identity) always defined itself in relation to the“other,” to a confessional otherness (the Hungarian Catholicism of Latin rite).Here is the source of the entire debate around the Hungarian Catholic Autonomy;ultimately, the Romanian Greek-Catholic discourse on the theme of Autonomywas simultaneously a discourse that promoted its own confessional and nation-al identity. We should like to emphasise that the Romanian discourse on auton-omy, which was concurrently a discourse reacting against the Hungarian proj-ect and asserting its own autonomy, was, in its entirety, the result of the activityof the Romanian Greek-Catholic elites and, above all, of the bishops’ vision.

Why did the elites of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church refuse integrationwithin the envisaged body of “Catholic Autonomy” from Hungary? At the levelof ecclesiastical jurisdiction, this would have led immediately to the transfer of


certain important decisional competences onto the Autonomy Committee, whichhad been projected at the scale of the entire Hungary, and this would have entailedundesired repercussions for the policies deployed by the Romanian Greek-CatholicChurch insofar as confessional education was concerned. Romanians feared thattheir integration within the “Autonomy” of their coreligionaries of Latin rite wouldmean their becoming exposed to Magyarisation through the Church. First of all,their absorption within the Hungarian “Catholic Autonomy” would have meantfor the Romanians the diminution, if not the complete loss, of their own auton-omy. This was the logic whereby, in broad lines, the Romanian discourse on CatholicAutonomy was built. The arguments invoked in favour of supporting their ownecclesiastical autonomy included the most diverse elements ranging from the EcclesiamChristi papal bull issued by Pius IX to Leo XIII’s Preclarae gratulationes, fromthe resolutions of the provincial synods to the four Florentine points of theUnion with Rome, or from other pontifical documents that had consecrated orreinforced the autonomy of the province of Alba Iulia and Fãgãraº to certainlaws passed in dualist Hungary that had “enacted” it (officially recognised it).25

The major idea of the discourse promoted by the Romanian Greek-Catholicelites on the issue of the Hungarian “Catholic Autonomy” was that the inter-ests of the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church demanded altogether different devel-opments than integration within the autonomous status projected by the LatinCatholics from Hungary. From amongst the arguments invoked in favour of main-taining their own autonomy intact and consolidating it, the Greek-CatholicRomanians claimed that their Church had a special missionary role in the area:that of making all the Romanians in Transylvania become united with Rome,of extending the religious Union to the level of the entire Romanian nation; more-over, after the fulfilment of that desideratum, having entered into communionwith the Apostolic See, the Romanian space would serve as an “operationbasis” for bringing the entire European South-East and the Near Orient intoUnion with Rome. The sine qua non condition for the Romanian Greek-CatholicChurch being able to serve such superior “Catholic” interests was that it shouldmaintain its own autonomy intact.

The Romanian Greek-Catholic discourse that opposed the advancement ofthe Hungarian Catholic Autonomy by positing the idea of its own autonomyalso had a national significance, which was at least as important as the ones men-tioned so far. The logic was that to the extent that it was and it would contin-ue to be a fully autonomous Church, it would also be a “national,” RomanianChurch. Hence, the planned autonomous organisation of the Catholic Churchfrom Hungary was more than a mere attack against the autonomous characterof the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church; it actually also undermined its nation-al Romanian character. For the Romanian Greek-Catholic Church, the provo-


cation occasioned by the Hungarian Catholic Autonomy meant an opportuni-ty, after all, to consolidate the outlines of its own identity. The invitations theattend the preparatory conferences, as well as its projected integration within thestructures of the general Catholic Autonomy, determined the reaction of theGreek-Catholic elites and of the intellectual laity, which elaborated one of theamplest and most complex discourses on their own ecclesiastical autonomyand identity in the entire historical existence of this Church. The Romanians elab-orated a veritable ideology of, rather than a mere discourse on, autonomy, whichwas the correspondent in the ecclesiastical sphere of the political-national ide-ology of the emancipation movement. The stage of the constitutional organi-sation reforms that were launched by the Greek-Catholic Church after the found-ing of the Metropolitan Province coincided, therefore, after dualism, with thecontext of the difficult relations with the Latin Church from Hungary. Undersuch circumstances, the Romanian side developed a complex argumentation,based on historical, judicial and ecclesial elements, meant to support and assertits own identity. The “impossible” dialogue between the Romanian Greek-CatholicChurch and the Catholic Autonomy from Hungary was unquestionably also dueto the fact that both the Latin and the Greek-Catholic autonomy projects cor-responded to different national paradigms; this was the nineteenth century, a peri-od when the “national” dimension represented, for the political culture and thecollective mentality from Central and South Eastern Europe, a value of highersymbolical force and prestige than that of confessional identity.26

Both the Hungarian project of Catholic Autonomy and the Romanian “count-er-project” underwent a historical evolution that benefited from the support of boththe ecclesiastical and the political elites of the two nations. Our study has aimedto highlight several aspects regarding the model of ecclesiastical organisation thatCatholic Autonomy intended to enforce in Hungary; it would have been impos-sible to exhaust such extensive and intricate problematics within such a restrictedspace. What we have emphasised is that the Catholic ecclesiastical elites from Hungary– both the Hungarian Roman-Catholic and the Romanian Greek-Catholic elites– concurrently promoted two, mutually competitive projects of autonomy, theRomanian project representing a response and a reaction to the Hungarian one.Given the manner whereby they disavowed the general project of autonomy, advo-cating, instead, the necessity of asserting their own ecclesiastical autonomy, theRomanian bishops realised the importance of the national dimension that the proj-ect of Catholic Autonomy from Hungary ultimately entailed.

�Translated in english by CARMEN BORBÉLY


Notes

1. Lucian, Nastasã, Generaþie ºi schimbare în istoriografia românã (sfârºitul secoluluiXIX ºi începutul secolului XX), Cluj-Napoca, Cluj University Press, 1999; Idem,Intelectualii ºi promovarea socialã (pentru o morfologie a câmpului universitar): sec.XIX-XX, Cluj-Napoca, Limes, 2004; Idem, Itinerarii spre lumea savantã. Tineridin spaþiul românesc la studii în strãinãtate (1864-1944), Cluj-Napoca, Limes, 2006;Idem, „Suveranii” universitãþilor româneºti: mecanisme de selecþie ºi promovare a eliteiintelectuale, vol. I. Profesorii Facultãþilor de Filosofie ºi Litere (1864-1948), Cluj-Napoca,Limes, 2007; Idem, Intimitatea amfiteatrelor. Ipostaze din viaþa privatã a universi-tarilor „literari” (1864-1948), Cluj-Napoca, Limes, 2010.

2. See analyses of Romanian historiography undertaken during the communist peri-od in: Vlad Georgescu, Politicã ºi istorie. Cazul comuniºtilor români 1944-1977, Bucharest,Humanitas, 1991; Florin Müller, Politicã ºi istoriografie în România 1948-1964,Cluj-Napoca, Nereamia Napocae, 2003; Gabriel Moisa, Istoria Transilvaniei în isto-riografia românescã: 1965-1989, Cluj-Napoca, Cluj University Press, 2003.

3. Guy Chaussinand-Nogaret (ed.), Une histoire des élites 1700-1848: recueil de textes, Paris,La Haye, 1970; Ezra N. Suleiman, Henri Mendras (ed.), Le recrutement des élites enEurope, Paris, Édition de la Découverte, 1995; Natalie Petiteau, Élites et mobilité: lanoblesse d’Empire au XIX-e siècle, 1808-1914, Paris, Boutique d’historie éd., 1997; CharleChristophe, Les élites de le République: 1880-1900, Paris, Fayard, 2006.

4. On the effects of the reformist policies of the Habsburgs in Transylvania, see: MathisBernath, Habsburgii ºi începuturile formãrii naþiunii române, Cluj-Napoca, Dacia,1994. Referring to the union with Rome and its effects on the Romanians, see:Ovidiu, Ghitta, Naºterea unei biserici: biserica greco-catolicã din Sãtmar în primul ei secolde existenþã (1667-1781), Cluj-Napoca, Cluj University Press, 2001; Greta MonicaMiron, Biserica greco-catolicã din Transilvania. Cler ºi enoriaºi (1697-1782), Cluj-Napoca,Cluj University Press, 2002.

5. David Prodan, Supplex Libellus Valachorum: din istoria formãrii naþiunii române,Bucharest, Enciclopedica Publishing, 1998.

6. Cornel Sigmirean, Istoria formãrii intelectualitãþii româneºti din Transilvania ºi Banatîn epoca modernã, Cluj-Napoca, Cluj University Press, 2000.

7. For information on the setting up of parties in the national movement of the Romaniansfrom Austro-Hungary, see Liviu Maior, Memorandul-filosofia politico-istoricã a petiþion-alismului românesc, Bucharest, Romanian Cultural Foundation, 1992, pp. 65-122;Teodor Pavel, Partidul Naþional Român ºi acþiunea memorandistã, Cluj-Napoca, Daco-Press, 1994, pp. 26-30 sq.

8. See: Ioan Micu Moldovan, Acte sinodali ale basericei române de Alba Julia ºi Fãgãrasiu, tomI-II, Blaj, S. Filtisch (W. Kraft) Printing House, 1869-1872; Decretele Conciliului primºi al doilea ale Provinciei bisericeºti greco-catolice de Alba Iulia ºi Fãgãraº, Blaj, 1927; Conciliulprovincial al Treilea al Provinciei Bisericeºti Greco-Catolice Alba Iulia ºi Fãgãraº, Blaj, 1906.

9. Statutul organic al Bisericei Greco-Orientale Române din Ungaria ºi Transilvania.Suplement, second edition official and authentical, Sibiu, Archdiocesan Printing House,1900; see also: Johann Schneider, Ecleziologia organicã a mitropolitului Andrei ªaguna


ºi fundamentele ei biblice, canonice ºi moderne, translated into Romanian by deaconIoan Icã Jr., Sibiu, Deisis, 2008.

10. Simion Retegan, “Clerul rural românesc din Transilvania la mijlocul secolului al XIX-lea: modalitãþi de instituire,” in Anuarul Institutului de Istorie Cluj-Napoca, XXXI,1992, pp. 103-120.

11. From the Romanian bibliography on this subject, see the following (selective) titles:Mircea Pãcurariu, Politica statului ungar faþã de biserica româneascã din Transilvaniaîn perioada dualismului (1867-1918), Sibiu, Biblical and Missionary Institute of theRomanian Orthodox Church, 1986, pp. 101-106; Nicolae Bocºan, “Imaginea bis-ericii romano-catolice la românii greco-catolici (Congresul autonomiei bisericii cato-lice din Ungaria),” in Studia Universitatis Babeº-Bolyai. Historia, 41, 1996, no. 1-2,pp. 49-68; Nicolae Bocºan, Ion Cârja, “Il metropolita Victor Mihályi de Apºa e irapporti tra la Chiesa Greco-Cattolica romena di Transilvania e l’”Autonomia Cattolica”ungherese,” in vol. Ion Cârja (ed.), I Romeni e la Santa Sede. Miscellanea di studi distoria ecclesiastica, Bucarest-Roma, Scriptorium, 2004, pp. 162-188; Ion Cârja, “Ilvescovato greco-catolico romeno e l’autonomia cattolica d’Ungheria alla fine del XIXsecolo. Contributi documentari,” in Ephemeris Dacoromana. Annuario dell’Accademiadi Romania, serie nuova, XII, 2004, fascicolo II, pp. 95-119; Ion Cârja, Bisericã ºisocietate în Transilvania în perioada pãstoririi mitropolitului Ioan Vancea (1869-1892),Cluj-Napoca, Cluj University Press, 2007, pp. 171-222.

12. Gabriel Adriányi, Lo stato ungherese ed il Vaticano (1848-1918), in Pál Cséfalvay, MariaAntonietta de Angelis (eds.), Mille anni di cristianesimo in Ungheria, Budapest,Hungarian Bishops’ Conference, 2 001, p. 114.

13. The text of these regulations in Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Arch. Nunz. Vienna, Card.Vanutelli. Vol. XXIV, busta no. 579 (Posizioni speciali. Cose di Ungheria), ff. 261 r-268v; see also: M. Pãcurariu, op. cit., pp. 101-102; G. Adriányi, op. cit.; I. Cârja, Bisericãºi societate în Transilvania în perioada pãstoririi mitropolitului Ioan Vancea, pp. 173-182.

14. M. Pãcurariu, op. cit., pp. 102-103; see the text of the manifest in Augustin Bunea,Discursuri. Autonomia bisericeascã. Diverse, Blaj, Archdiocesan Seminary Publishing,1903, pp. 420-423.

15. A. Bunea, op. cit., pp. 426-435; see also I. Cârja, Bisericã ºi societate în Transilvaniaîn perioada pãstoririi mitropolitului Ioan Vancea, pp. 212-213.

16. I. Cârja, Bisericã ºi societate în Transilvania în perioada pãstoririi mitropolitului IoanVancea, pp. 211-218.

17. A. Bunea, op. cit., pp. 435-438, 443. 18. Ibidem. p. 439.19. Unirea, IX, 1899, no. 31, 5 August, pp. 249-250.20. Charles de Clerq, Histoire des conciles d’après les documents originaux, volume XI. Conciles

des orientaux catholiques, deuxième partie de 1850 a 1949, Paris, 1952, p. 855.21. The text of the memorial in A. Bunea, op. cit., pp. 447-454.22. The letter and the memorial of the Archdiocesan Synod in Nicolae Bocºan, Ion Cârja,

“Il metropolita Victor Mihályi de Apºa e i rapporti tra la Chiesa Greco-CattolicaRomena di Transilvania e l’‘Autonomia Cattolica’ ungherese,” in vol. Ion Cârja (ed.),I Romeni e la Santa Sede..., pp. 162-188.


23. A. Bunea, op. cit., pp. 455-460.24. Ion Cârja, “Episcopatul român unit ºi autonomia catolicã maghiarã la sfârºitul Primului

Rãzboi Mondial,” in Nicolae Edroiu (ed.), Studii istorice privind relaþiile româno-maghiare, Cluj-Napoca, Mega, 2010, pp. 254-262.

25. N. Bocºan, I. Cârja, “Il metropolita Victor Mihályi de Apºa e i rapporti tra laChiesa Greco-Cattolica Romena di Transilvania e l’‘Autonomia Cattolica’ ungherese,”in vol. Ion Cârja (ed.), I Romeni e la Santa Sede..., pp. 162-188.

26. For a more ample treatment of this aspect, see Simon Peterman, “Eglises, senti-ment national et nationalisme,” in , II, 1993, no. 2, pp. 3-10.

AbstractConfessional Identity – National Identity. The Elites of the Romanian Greek-Catholic

Church and the Catholic Autonomy from Hungary during the Period of Dualism(1867-1918)

Romanian historiography has not yet convincingly and explicitly developed a research direction onthe history of the elites, or, in any case, it has neither raised investigations in this domain to theconceptual and methodological level of western historiographies, nor has it systematically exhaust-ed the research field and problematics that might be subsumed under this name. At the sametime, it is undeniable that there have, indeed, been meritorious attempts in this direction, in theolder or more recent historiography, just like it is also true that a series of distinct historical researchdomains concerning the Transylvanian and, in general, Romanian realities of the eighteenth-twentieth centuries may contribute, through the results accomplished so far, to defining the his-tory of the elites. Thus, somewhat more visible domains of Romanian historiography, such asthe history of the political and national emancipation movement of the Romanians from the Austrian,and later on, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the history of education and culture, and ecclesias-tical history, comprise a series of reconstitutions that are perfectly subsumable to the history ofthe elites or that may be recuperated from that particular perspective. In our older or morerecent historiography, the usage of the term “elite”/”elites” has been rather inconsistent anderratic, having only been more assertively deployed in the historiographic productions of thepast couple of decades.

KeywordsElite, Romanian Greek-Catholic Church, Dualism, Austria-Hungary


ELEMÉR GYÁRFÁS fut l’une des personnalités politiques de l’entre-deux-guerresqui a marqué de manière décisive la vie politique, économique et ecclésiastiquede la minorité hongroise de Transylvanie. Ce politicien, juriste et spécialiste del’économie témoigne, autant par son oeuvre que par ses discours prononcés dansle Parlement, d’une conception historique, économique et politique supérieure.

Bénéficiant d’une culture politique formée dans le cadre de la monarchie consti-tutionnelle1, Gyárfás pensait que l’implication dans des questions publiques etadministratives n’était pas une affaire strictement politique, puisque « les partiscontinueraient à naître et disparaître, les gouvernements à changer, alors que l’ad-ministration, qui garantissait le fonctionnement de la vie publique, resterait fonc-tionnelle ».2

Président du Conseil local et de l’Association hongroise de Târnãveni, ensui-te membre du Conseil présidentiel du Parti National Hongrois, Gyárfás devinten 1926 sénateur du département de Harghita dans le Parlement de la Roumanie.A partir de 1931, il remplit aussi la fonction de président laïc de l’Évêché romain-catholique, chargé de la gestion économique du système scolaire.

Les relations que Elemér Gyárfás a entretenues avec l’Église et l’élite de lamonarchie dualiste ont marqué sa conception du fonctionnement de la vie éco-nomique. Adepte du capitalisme fondé sur le commerce libre, la production etla libre circulation des marchandises, Gyárfás resta tributaire aux mécanismes éco-nomiques du XIXe siècle. Il souligne souvent dans ses écrits l’efficacité desunités économiques individuelles en dépit de la volonté de l’État de s’impli-quer dans leur activité. L’économiste hongroise se montre également intéressépar le coopératisme, notamment en ce qui concerne l’appui à la petite indus-trie. L’organisation économique devait, à son avis, entraîner la responsabilité indi-viduelle et des initiatives économiques fermes. Étant donné son expérience entant que président de la section économique et du syndicat bancaire transyl-

Aspects modernisateurs dans lesdiscours politiques de Elemér Gyárfás

ANDRÁS MÁTÉ

vain, qui a patronné toutes les institutions monétaires hongroises de Transylvanie,il était convaincu que l’implication de l’État et l’exacerbation des points de vuenationaux ne pouvaient que nuire à la vie économique, renforcer la bureaucra-tie et ouvrir la voie aux abus et aux illégalités.3

Dans l’entre-deux-guerres, l’économie de la Roumanie n’a pas constitué unentier unitaire et indépendant, sa nature segmentée créant de gros problèmesau nouvel État. D’une part, les autorités de Bucarest durent intégrer dans l’Étatdes territoires différents du point de vue de leur développement, de l’autre, l’É-tat intervint par des subsides et des taxes, provoquant une croissance économiquedans des secteurs qui n’étaient pas en concordance avec la demande des mar-chés européens.4

Après la Grande Union, la problématique de la modernisation de la Roumaniefut intensément discutée dans les milieux des politiciens, économistes, historiens,écrivains, des intellectuels en général, qu’ils fussent on non enrégimentés.5 Lalutte politique destinée à imposer certaines directions et moyens dans le pro-cessus de modernisation, fondée sur des ouvrages et des études théoriques, prou-ve que ces idées existaient dès la première moitié du XIXe siècle, étant valo-risées et enrichies dans le nouveau contexte historique. La préoccupation pourl’implication de l’État dans la vie économique et la définition du rapport entrela société roumaine et le monde européen ont été les deux grandes constantesde ces débats, avec une intensité différente d’une gouvernance à l’autre.6

Gyárfás a identifié deux conceptions économico-politiques en ce qui concer-ne la reconstruction et l’évolution du nouvel État. Le milieu le plus influent dela bourgeoisie roumaine, principalement les groupements créés autour de la BanqueNationale de la Roumanie et de la Banque Roumaine, voulait gagner les positionsdu capital étranger en sa faveur, en fonction de ses intérêts financiers. Ces insti-tutions bancaires avaient derrière elles les libéraux, dont le rôle avait été décisifdans la formation de la Grande Roumanie. Les libéraux pensaient que cettepolitique économique devait stimuler la croissance de l’économie nationale àtravers l’industrialisation et les taxes de douane perfectionnistes. L’épigraphe « parnous-mêmes » avait en vue, selon Gyárfás, d’éliminer la concurrence et obtenirla majorité des concessions de l’État, afin de remplacer, dans certaines sociétés,le capital étranger par celui autochtone. Le capital étranger devait, d’autre part,couvrir le manque de capital, afin de maintenir la prépondérance du capital autoch-tone dans différentes compagnies. Gyárfás appréciait cette caractéristique de l’é-conomie roumaine. La question qu’il posait était si ce rôle secondaire envisagé parles libéraux était accepté également par les investisseurs du capital étranger.7

Le courant opposé avait pour épigraphe « les portes ouvertes ». Cette straté-gie politico-économique fut adoptée par une partie de la bourgeoise groupéeautour des intérêts du capital français, Marmorosch Blank et Co. et la Banque


roumaine de crédit. Elle était intéressée par des investissements massifs de capi-tal étranger, en vue de revigorer la vie économique du pays, qui manquait géné-ralement de capital. Si sur le plan économique ce courant était embrassé par ceuxqui s’occupaient de l’agriculture ou appartenaient à des compagnies issues d’in-vestissements étrangers, sur le plan politique il était assumé par le Parti Nationalde Transylvanie, le Parti Conservateur et le Parti Paysan.

L’alternance au pouvoir du Parti Libéral et du Parti Paysan convainquit cepen-dant les Hongrois de Transylvanie que les deux directions politiques attri-buaient le même rôle à l’État national et que leur politique économique était misesous l’impératif de la nationalisation.8

A l’avis de Gyárfás, du moment où les décisions étaient prises par les libéraux,en vertu du clientélisme du système bancaire et de l’administration, les repré-sentants des Hongrois devaient élaborer une stratégie de défense dans la mêmedirection. Ses arguments étaient fondés sur le fait qu’après la guerre, les libé-raux avaient commencé à acquérir des positions économiques importantes dansles nouveaux territoires. La nationalisation y a principalement visé les sociétésétrangères, autrichiennes et hongroises en particulier. Etant donné la prépondé-rance du capital étranger, la valeur nominale des actions fut diminuée, les asso-ciations des actionnaires furent obligées d’établir leurs sièges en Roumanie etla moitié des membres de leur conseil d’administration devaient être roumaine.Par la nouvelle loi des mines émise en 1925, les libéraux avaient en vue d’éli-miner le droit de possession des étrangères sur les ressources naturelles autoch-tones. Conformément à cette loi, la concession des mines ne concernait que lescompagnies roumaines. Les éventuelles participations des actionnaires avec ducapital étranger ne pouvaient pas dépasser 40%. Le processus de centralisationfut démarré dans plusieurs domaines de l’économie (mines et autres sourcesd’énergie), continué par une expansion monétaire, l’État entrant en possessionde certaines banques et compagnies.9

Les lois qui réglementaient les importations entrèrent en vigueur dès 1919.Les autorités réussirent, jusqu’en 1924, à éliminer les produits étrangers quiconcurrençaient les produits autochtones. A partir de 1924, les taxes de doua-ne sur la valeur ajoutée atteignirent 30%, en faveur des produits autochtones,pour parvenir à 40% en 1927.

L’intolérance de la politique économique roumaine détermina Elemér Gyárfásà critiquer les approches des économistes et des politiciens roumains en lamatière. Les mesures qu’ils avaient prises étaient à ses yeux autant d’actes de néga-tion du système moderne des valeurs européens. Dans la Transylvanie et le Banat,affirmait-il, il y avait la tendance d’homogénéiser à la fois la vie économique, l’ad-ministration, la justice et la vie politique. La période de transition devait êtreabrégée, or ce fait était, aux yeux de Gyárfás, susceptible de détruire les résul-


tats positifs d’une évolution économique solide. L’approche correcte de la moder-nisation, l’intégration dans les structures économiques développées détermine-ront les bases économiques déjà existantes et fonctionnelles à poursuivre leur évo-lution, s’adaptant à celles qui venaient d’être créées, préservant le système devaleurs et ayant une influence bénéfique sur la société.10

Elémer Gyárfás a admiré l’esprit d’initiative des élites économiques roumainesainsi que la capacité d’adaptation dont elles avaient fait preuve à plusieurs reprises.Il n’hésita toutefois pas à signaler que, dans le cas où elles souhaitaient une moder-nisation profonde des structures existantes, l’homogénéité totale du Vieux Royaumedevenait irréalisable dans les nouveaux territoires, qui se trouvaient dans des étapesdifférentes de développement. Il a soutenu que les démarches qui voulaient accélé-rer le processus naturel de l’évolution économique auraient des réactions néga-tives, générant isolationnisme et protectionnisme en économie. Au lieu d’uneévolution commune de la vie économique, les énergies devaient se consommerdans des rivalités entre les acteurs économiques régionaux.11 La politique de natio-nalisation en soi a un effet négatif sur la production, elle bloque l’évolutionnormale de l’industrie et engendre un haut degré de méfiance à l’égard de l’é-tranger. Les compagnies industrielles fondées et entretenues par le capital étran-ger rapportent un revenu considérable à l’État, alors que celui-ci dispose, à sontour, d’une administration adéquate, d’une politique de charges et taxes de douanesdestinée à limiter leur rôle. Dans le cas où ces industries devraient subir descontrôles absolus, le capital étranger ne sera pas capable d’une production etune adaptation propre. Le capital intérieur, d’origine étrangère (celui des indus-triels hongrois, juifs) perdra du terrain, puisqu’il ne pourra pas produire dans unesphère où il ne courra que des risques et ne jouira de nulle influence.

Comme le Ministère de l’Industrie et des Affaires avait établi qu’au moins 50%du capital industriel et la moitié de la direction devait être roumaine, les asso-ciations d’actionnaires furent soumises à des contrôles rigoureux. Les argu-ments de Gyárfás étaient que ces compagnies minoritaires avaient toujours effec-tué un travail constructif et que leur composition devait être gardée telle qu’elleétait.12

Les réformes agraires mises en oeuvre entre 1918 et 1921 furent différentesd’une province à l’autre, reflétant la spécificité de leurs conditions économiqueset sociales. La réforme agraire de 1921 ne fut pas fondée sur une norme juridiqueunitaire pour toutes les provinces, mais sur des lois conçues et appliquées demanière différente, tant en ce qui concerne les objectifs que les détails. EnTransylvanie, par exemple, la réforme a connu une forme beaucoup plus radi-cale que dans le Vieux Royaume, en raison de la structure pluriethnique decette province et des rapports de propriété spécifiques. Bien que, théoriquement,la loi agraire eût bien établi les modalités des expropriations et des mises en


possession, pratiquement la loi fut appliquée de manière discrétionnaire, donnantlieu à un grand nombre d’abus. Elemér Gyárfás a présenté dans le Sénat lespremières conclusions sur la réforme agraire de 1921 qui, à son avis, a dépasséde beaucoup les objectifs sociaux proposés. L’économiste hongrois considéraitque la réforme agraire restait indépendante des règles de la politique économique,n’ayant que des buts national-politiques. Il critiqua les mesures du gouvernement,soutenant que les facilités accordées par le projet de conversion13 avaient vêtula forme de privilèges visibles, octroyés à quelques-uns, refusés à d’autres.14

La même situation était signalée dans la question liée à l’annulation des dettesagricoles, qui ne visait que les agriculteurs endettés à l’État. Cette loi aurait, àl’avis de Gyárfás, concerné aussi les industriels, les commerçants et même les intel-lectuels, qui se heurtaient à des problèmes similaires.15

La réforme agraire a causé de grands désordres dans les activités des institu-tions monétaires. Avant la mise en oeuvre de la réforme agraire, la branche essen-tielle des affaires des institutions monétaires était le crédit agraire. La situationd’insécurité créée par les lois agraires éloigna les propriétaires agricoles des inves-tissements, alors que les institutions monétaires commencèrent à refuser d’ac-corder des crédits, étant donné que l’appartenance des propriétés, restée sans solu-tion, ne signifiait pas une garantie en ce sens. En ce qui concerne le projet deloi sur les dettes agricoles, Gyárfás considérait que cette opération financière étaitinéquitable, devant être supportée par seulement une partie de la population. Ils’agit du milieu des déposants, des personnes qui avaient confiance dans lesinstitutions de crédit, étant persuadés que certains contrats bilatéraux ne pou-vaient pas changer de manière unilatérale. Ce processus ne respectait pas lesréalités économiques et juridiques de Transylvanie, ruinant l’organisation decrédit et le système des livres fonciers.16

Une autre question concernait les forêts. Elemér Gyárfás a démontré queles forêts de l’État constituaient une bonne partie des richesses naturelles, maisque les revenus forestiers n’arrondissaient pas trop le budget du pays.17 Par sesdiscours parlementaires, Gyárfás a accéléré l’exploitation des forêts principale-ment par l’État, mettant fin à l’exploitation réalisée par les propriétaires, qui ven-daient les forêts. Il soutenait que l’État devait prendre totalement en chargecette question, alors que l’usinage du bois, le transport et la commercialisationrestaient à la charge des compagnies privées.18 Gyárfás signalait aussi les risquescourus par la déforestation, notamment les inondations, qui menaçaient sur-tout les zones basses du pays.19

Étant donné l’évolution de la vie publique et ses nouvelles charges, Gyárfásproposa une réforme agraire qui permît à l’État de définir ses objectifs, ses ins-titutions et les coûts fondamentaux. Ceux qui ne représentaient pas d’intérêts pri-mordiaux auraient dû être confiés à des organismes indépendants ou même à


la sphère privée. Gyárfás soutenait que le rôle de l’État et son implication enéconomie devaient être bien précisés, pour éviter sa transformation en un Étatsocialiste.20 A l’avis de l’économiste hongrois, les biens de l’État n’étaient pas biengérés, les nécessité budgétaires devaient être couvertes non seulement par les reve-nus obtenus des taxes et des impôts payés par les contribuables, mais principa-lement par les biens de l’État et des régies autonomes.21

La question du gaz méthane et sa gestion correcte a créé de grandes ten-sions dans le Sénat. Gyárfás plaida en faveur du monopole d’État sur le gaz,évitant un intermédiaire qui s’occupe de sa gestion. L’État ne respectait pas lesnormes légales, élevant le prix du gaz sous différents prétextes fiscaux. Gyárfásrappela que, conformément à un article des Lois des Mines, le prix du gaz métha-ne ne pouvait pas être supérieur à celui du combustible le moins cher.22

La réforme agraire de 1921, la politique des taxes de douane et les polémiquesentre les partis politiques ont eu des conséquences néfastes sur l’évolution de laproduction, alors que la Grande Crise mondiale de 1929-1933 a poussé lesproducteurs agricoles au bord du précipice. Cette situation dramatique était, auxyeux de Gyárfás due aux prix extrêmement bas des céréales et de tous les produitsagricoles.23 La seule issue pour l’agriculture était d’encourager les exportationset protéger l’usinage des produits agricoles.24

En ce qui concerne les institutions bancaires et les systèmes de crédit desHongrois de Transylvanie, Gyárfás remarquait que les intérêts financiers roumainsmettaient en danger leur évolution. Ceux qui détenaient le capital dans les ins-titutions bancaires provenaient surtout des milieux hongrois, qui, à leur tour, opé-raient avec des partenaires hongrois. En tant que président du Syndicat bancai-re transylvain, Gyárfás saisit les tendances d’affirmation des banques centralesde Bucarest au détriment de celles transylvaines. L’économiste hongrois pen-sait que les instituions monétaires hongroises avaient perpétué certaines pratiqueset méthodes de l’ancien empire, qui auraient pu organiser la vie économiqueen Transylvanie, ces instituions étant marquées par le processus de modernisa-tion et les changements social-politiques radicaux mis en place au niveau local.Le pouvoir absolutiste autrichien avait imposé en Transylvanie un système detaxes développé, une justice impartiale, une administration pédante, des financeset des gendarmes, des livres fonciers, des lois de crédit modernes, des lois dansl’industrie minière et les forêts, il avait réorganisé la poste, le réseau routier, letélégraphe, les chemins de fer.25

Gyárfás était d’avis que les réglementations dans la politique d’impôts et detaxes de douane ainsi que dans la circulation monétaire n’étaient pas conçues àlong terme. Pendant la guerre et même après, la Roumanie a connu, à côté d’autrespays, une inflation galopante. La Banque Nationale n’a pas émis de nouvellesbillets de banque pour couvrir le déficit budgétaire, alors qu’en 1925 l’État et


la Banque Nationale convinrent à ce que le premier s’engage à retirer du mar-ché pendant les 15 ans à venir une quantité de billets de banque équivalente àses dettes auprès de la Banque Nationale. L’émission de billets de banque serapportait au fonds d’or. La revalorisation de la monnaie était, aux yeux de Gyárfás,irréalisable. Il recommandait l’achat de devises fortes et l’émission de billets debanque, puisque l’émission avec couverture commerciale parfaite ne risquaitpas de dévaloriser la monnaie, par contre, elle contribuerait au bien-être de lapopulation par l’amélioration des conditions de production. Le manque catas-trophique d’argent en Roumanie était, à son avis, le résultat d’un manque dedisponibilités monétaires qui pussent couvrir les besoins économiques. La BanqueNationale aurait dû assurer les crédits nécessaires aux activités économiquesbien précisées, soit-il par une nouvelle émission de billets de banque.26

Gyárfás soutenait que la politique douanière, la politique fiscale et toute lapolitique économique des gouvernements qui se sont succédés pendant les 10dernières années ont représenté un véritable crime contre l’agriculture. Lestaxes d’exportation ont été supprimées, mais une nouvelle taxe fut introduite, surl’agriculture. Les taxes communales ne furent pas supprimées, continuant à peserlourd sur les communes. La solution serait, à son avis, de retrouver et occuperles marchés perdus suite à la politique douanière inefficace, fondée sur des taxesd’exportation.27 Une réévaluation critique de la réforme agraire s’avérait, dansce contexte, absolument nécessaire. Ceux qui avaient reçu des terres devaientles payer, alors que les terres restées incultes devaient être rendues à leurs pro-priétaires. Le droit de propriété sur la terre devait, à son avis, être garanti.28

Dans ses discours prononcés dans le Sénat, Gyárfás attirait l’attention sur l’ap-parition de nouveaux impôts et taxes, qui non seulement empêchaient la pro-duction profitable, mais mettaient en danger l’industrie autochtone, qui nepouvait plus faire face à la concurrence étrangère.29 Les taxes et les impôts nerespectaient pas le principe de l’égalité, certaines régions30 devant supporter descharges publiques excessives.31

Toutes ces interventions sont la preuve que Gyárfás Elemér a été un fin obser-vateur des phénomènes économiques, qui a pris position dans la plupart des ques-tions économiques d’intérêt public ou ayant des implications majeures sur lesacteurs économiques hongrois. Par ses écrits, il a essayé de résoudre les ten-sions causées par la réforme agraire et d’offrir des solutions à la complexité desaffaires industrielles, militant également contre l’insécurité de la politique decrédit et le manque de capital. Ses analyses économiques ont marqué la littéra-ture économique de la Transylvanie du temps.

�


Notes

1. Elemér Gyárfás est né en 1884 à Bârza (dans la région de Târnava Micã). Après avoirfait le gymnase à Sibiu, il suivit des cours de droit, économie et sciences politiquesà l’Université de Cluj, devenant plus tard licencié en droit à Budapest et Paris (à laSorbonne). Il revint en 1909 en Transylvanie, où il travailla comme avocat dans lecomitat de Târnava Micã.

2. Csucsuja István, Gyárfás Elemér korának gazdaságáról [Sur la vie économique del’époque de Gyárfás Elemér], in: Az erdélyi magyar gazdasági gondolkodás múltjából[ De l’histoire de la pensée économique hongroise de Transylvanie], vol.II., Societédes Economistes Hongrois de Roumanie, Cluj-Napoca 2004, p. 126.

3. Ibidem, p. 129.4. Voir Mary Ellen Fisher, “Politics, Nationalism and Development in Romania”, in:

Gerasimos Augustinos (ed.), Diverse Path to Modernity in Southeastern Europe: Essaysin National Development, Greenwood Press 1991, p.135-146, p. 144; Keith Hitchins,România 1866-1947, Humanitas, Bucarest 1996, p. 385.

5. Gheorghe Iacob, “Modernizarea României, Rolul elitei politice “, in: Xenopoliana,VI, 1998, 1-2, p. 189-199.

6. I. Saizu, “Modele de modernizare în România interbelicã”, in: Xenopoliana , VI,1998, 1-2, p. 108-113.

7. Gyárfás Elemér, Románia hitelszervezetei és az erdélyi magyar pénzintézetek [ Les orga-nisations de crédit de Roumanie et les institutions monétaires hongroises deTransylvanie], Lugoj 1924, p.9.

8. Independenþa economicã, 1920., no. 20., oct-déc., in: Istoria românilor , vol.VII.,“România întregitã” 1918-1940, Bucarest 2003, p. 44.

9. Csucsuja István, op. cit., p. 133.10. Gyárfás Elemér, op. cit., p. 37.11. Ibidem, p. 41.12. Le discours de Gyárfás Elemér dans le Sénat, le 2 décembre 1926, contre l’ordon-

nance visant le contrôle accentué des sociétés par actions minoritaires, in : MagyarKisebbség [La Minorité hongroise], pp. 110-111.

13. La conversion visait le changement des conditions d’un emprunt, dans ce cas la trans-formations des petits crédits à court échéance et intérêt élevé en des crédits à longterme et intérêt bas.

14. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat , 25. IV. 1932, no. 52, p. 1802. Le 5 avril Gyárfásparticipe aux discussions sur le projet de loi relative aux dettes agricoles.

15. Le discours de Gyárfás dans le Sénat, le 5 avril 1932, sur la Loi pour l’annulation desdettes agricoles, in : Magyar Kisebbség [La Minorité hongroise], pp. 305-306.

16. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 25. IV. 1932 , p. 1802.17. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 13, IV,1930, no. 17, p. 465.18. Magyar Kisebbség [La Minorité hongroise], pp. 219-220.19. Monitorul Oficial, p. 465.20. Magyar Kisebbség [La Minorité hongroise], p. 233.


21. Ibidem, p. 235.22. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 12, I,1932, no. 21, p. 415.23. Monitorul Oficial , Débats du Sénat, 19, VII,1930, no. 23, p. 720.24. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 19, VII,1930, no. 23, p. 720.25. Gyárfás Elemér, op.cit. p. 89.26. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 8,VIII, 1928, no. 1, p. 11.27. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 11, III, 1931, no. 39, p. 1058.28. Ibidem, p. 1058.29. Monitorul Oficial, Débats du Sénat, 25, IV, 1929, no. 23, p. 790.30. Dans certaines localités de Târnava Micã, telles Bãlãuºeri, Chendu Mic, Chendu, le

taux des impôts était de 99%-100%, par rapport à d’autres localités du même dis-trict où ce taux était de 4%-5%, bien que la situation économique de la popula-tion fût similaire.

31. [La Minorité hongroise], p. 736.

Abstract


Introduction

U NJUST ENRICHMENT is known in the European law systems under namesthat not only suggest the non – unitary “juridical translation” but alsoa different interpretation, this being the reason for pursuing a com-

parative method in our research we will later on return to. Whether it’s „Ungerechtfertigte Bereicherung”, „Unjustified Enrichment”,

„Corrective justice”, „Restitution”, „Enrichissment ROMANIAN AND EURO-PEAN sans cause”, „Indebito arrichemento”, „Arrichimento senza causa”,„Enriquecimento ilicito”, or „unjustified enrichment”, „enrichment based onunjust basis” or „unjust enrichment”; the historical evolution of unjust enrich-ment and particularly the lack of certain specific regulations in the European CivilCodes emerged into challenges faced by doctrine and jurisprudence, within theRomanian space,

This paper took notice on the fact that in the British law system, commonlaw, the regulation stresses on the jurisprudential tradition and the juridical prece-dent, with different construal from the one on the continent, based on “Germansystematization”, “the Italian norm”, the French creativity, innovation and con-troversy1. The latter has generated the great theories in debate in the Europeanlegal space, taken over and commented on in numerous states, and amongthem Romania.

The paper broadly presents the influence of the French pattern on Romanianjurisprudence and doctrine2. Still, from the very beginning, we have to specify,that if we talk – and we do – about the beginning of a practical and theoreticalconstruction specific to the Romanian space, during the interwar period, our spe-

Contribution of Romanian andEuropean Legal Elte to the Definition

of the Unjust Enrichment Concept

CIPRIAN PÃUN


cialists equally became familiar and incorporated sources and regulations per-taining to German law and concerning the employment of the concept unjustenrichment.3

Both doctrinaire systems, and especially the French one, strongly influencedthe Romanian doctrine and jurisprudence. These influences were also possibleon both sides due to the fact that they are completely distinct as they claim thephilosophical – theoretical bases of sanctioning unjust enrichment from the Greekphilosopher’s work, Aristotle – The Nicomachean Ethics.

„[...] So the just is the proportional one, and on the other hand the unjust rep-resents what goes against proportionality. As the one who commits injustice,acquires too much of the good, and the one who suffers injustice receives too lit-tle of the same. This is therefore one kind of the just. The remaining kind isthe amending one that applies to contracts, to voluntary and involuntary ones4(...).So if the law speaks generally but in concreto, we have to deal with the case thatis not comprised in the general provision, then being deemed that the legisla-tor neglected this case, and generally speaking committed an error, the right thingis done when what was neglected is therefore amended, as the legislator him-self, had he had the case before him would have done and had he known the casehe would have decided the righteous things according to law. That is why theequitable is even a better right than some certain right, but not better than theabsolute right, but than the one that due to not knowing any distinction, isdeficient. And this is the nature of the equitable: it is a correction of law, whenlaw is deficient due to its general constitution.5”

1. The Condictiones

T HE CONCEPT of “unjust enrichment” became clear during the late “RomanRepublic” period, and it was established by the legal advisors Sabinus,Celsus, Ulpian, Pomponius and Marcian. Nevertheless its origins may be

identified in the works of the Ancient Greek philosophers, especially in Aristotle’sThe Nicomachean Ethics. According to Aristotle, legal art is comprised in thejustice, commutative concept.

Specific justice is divided into two alternatives, considering the pursued objec-tive and circumstance: it either seeks geometrical equality in the distribution ofgoods, and we then talk about justice, distributive, or it aims to correct thearithmetical order and / or balance, disrupted by commutations, and in thiscase we are dealing with justice, commutative6 (Aristotle, τό εν τοις σουναλλάγµασιδιορθωτικόν). On one side of the contemporary doctrine’s interpretation, unjustenrichment claims this second significance of Aristotle’s theories.7 Aristotle


supports the idea that “enrichment at the expense of another is forbidden becausethere must be balance between commutations. In all wilful operations result-ing in unjustified proceeds for one party, these proceeds must be in exchangeindemnified for by an equal proportional value with the one the impoverishedparty was deprived of. The same must be done should there exist an involun-tary commutation. The prior situation must be amended in order not to existunjust proceeds for any of the involved parties.8”.

In the two hypotheses, the voluntary and involuntary commutation, as wellas the resettlement of the disrupted balance belongs to the judge who used asan instrument at that time the justice, commutative in its various forms.9

One part of the doctrine claims that Aristotle’s theory of justice influenced theinstitution of legal systems for ancient people. It is our opinion on the other handthat the need for justice, equity and law is a common feature to every socialand rational form of organization, and thus legal structures that ban enrich-ment at the expense of “the weaker” may be traced within every ancient peo-ple’s mentality.

In archaic Roman law, the concept of unjust enrichment used to be employedin a procedure called per sacramentum that comprised, among others provi-sions the one according to which „a person can claim unlawful enrichment”. Thisprocedure involved two types of actions, based on litigation features: legis actiosacramento in rem and legis actio sacramento in personam10.

By the end of the Roman Republic, some Roman legal advisors put into the-ory the principle of unjust enrichment, granting it at the same time an extendedapplication. Pomponius thinks that: Iure naturae aequum est neminem cum alteriusdetrimento et iniuria fieri locupletiorem (According to natural law, it is not equi-table that a person gets rich at the expense of another person and by unjust man-ner)11. Unjust enrichment was sanctioned with “repetition” actions by whichrestitution of the value the defendant had been enriched by was claimed. These pro-cedures, called condictiones, were established by two laws: lex Silia and lex Calpurnia.According to the formulae condictio certae creditae, pecuniae and condictio certaerei, the magistrate allowed restitution of amounts of money on one hand, and onthe other of various valued and determined assets. A third one was added tothese two during the same late Republic period: condictio incerti. It concerns thehypothesise where an unjustified transfer of the real right, other than property, couldhave resulted into unjust benefit, for the one it was performed for12.

Later on, the Christian scholar, Saint Augustine of Canterbury (339-430) pro-fessed that “a sin may only be forgiven once what was unjustly taken is returned”,assertion considered by certain authors as the moral norm with special influenceson the evolution of unjust enrichment13, as well as a first class source for theclerical jurists in the Middle Ages.


All the actions (condictiones) born form unjust enrichment were classified, andnamed by a legal term on the occasion of the Roman law encoding proceduresmade by Justinian,: condictiones sine causa, that comprises: condictio indebiti,condictio causa data causa non secuta, condictio ob turpem causam, condictio obinjustam causam and condictio sine causa with strict meaning.

Condictio indebiti (the action of undue payment) represents the contemporarybasis for the undue payment. Condictio causa data causa non secuta (action for anon – accomplished future cause) was granted to enrichment cases resulted froma service provisioned for a future lawful cause that would fail to be accomplished.Condictio ob turpem causa (action for disgraceful cause) was granted when serv-ice was made in order to determine the accipiens to do a deed or forbearance bear-ing immoral character. Codictio ob injustam causam (action for unjust cause) inter-vened when the enriched person, obtained profit from the poor against thelaw, for instance in case of a loan the request would surpass the admissible fig-ure. Condictio sine causa in restricted meaning (action of unjustified service) wasan action for granting limited meaning, applicable to the restitution of serviceswithout legal base or for a cause that ceased to exist.14 This last action decisive-ly influenced German doctrine and led to the development of the theory ofprestation - fundamental concept of legal conditions for the performance ofthe action concerning unjust enrichment15.

2. Actio de in rem verso – the Roman Version

T HE ROMAN action o in rem verso will be broadly described in the chapterdedicated to general aspects. Jure naturae aequum est, used to say theRoman legal advisors to support the existence of the principle they pro-

claimed. Pursuant to them it was said that the principle: “no person is allowedto get rich at the expense of another person”, is a principle of perpetual equity.In fact, considered under its extended meaning, this principle is the expressionof the duty that compels us cuique suum tribuere and regulates the morals legis-lator needs to provide in order to maintain proper social relationships.

In Justinian’s legislation (482-565), ban of unjust enrichment used to bethe general rule having its roots in Roman ancient times.16 The rule was passedon by texts in Digeste, precisely under the last title, de diversis regulis iuris antiqui.These texts emphasize a statement derived from the writings of the classic juristPomponius (IInd century) that claims, that according to nature’s law, no per-son should get rich at the expense of another person or by wronging another per-son.17 D.50.17.206. Pomponius libro nono ex variis lectionibus. Iure naturae aequ-um est neminem cum alterius detrimento et iniuria fieri locupletiorem.


3. Ethical and Legal Aspects Concerning Equity and Unjust Enrichment During the Middle Ages

A CCORDING TO the Middle Ages doctrines not all advantages are rightfullyearned in life. Some proceeds are “unnatural” or they are “the result ofbreaching natural order”. The unjust enrichment is banned by the

Commandment “You shall not steal”: furtum non facies18, a rule extensivelyinterpreted as to include more than stealing or unjust use of the property of anoth-er. This Holy Book Commandment comprises an absolutely compelling ruleof ius divinum, that cannot be argued with by any human law. Divine law requiresthat the advantage obtained by breaching natural order be cancelled and natu-ral order be reinstated, said several Middle Ages clerical jurists.

A special situation arises when enrichment took place, at another person’sexpense, and the legitimate question is whether the latter should be indemni-fied for his loss. Gratian’s decree states for the above mentioned situation, incausa XIV, the distinction between the cases where enrichment is obtained sole-ly by ex turpi causa or it comes from theft, robbery or interest. In the firstcase enrichment must be cancelled by various compensations that include almsgift to the poor or gift offerings to church. In case of theft or robbery, whenthe impoverished person is not at fault, expense of the income resulted fromenrichment is banned to charity, and solely the duty to make amends withthe victim subsists.

Forgiveness of sins solely happens when natural law is reinstated and the stolengoods returned. This is why the concept of restitution is related to the mysteryof forgiveness and redemption. Saint Augustine had already preached that sinscould not be forgiven until restitution of what was stolen had been achieved.19

This assertion may be found in the medieval compilations of Canon Law.20

In cases where enrichment is unjust and must be cancelled by restitution tothe damaged party, the Middle Ages clerical jurists grouped under the name“Decretists” created a similar complaint in order to require such a commuta-tion named the Canon Law doctrine of restitution. Generally described, it wasbroadly accepted at the time21. Laic jurists, interpreting at their turn the sourcesof Roman law also supported the necessity of such an action; yet, they criti-cized at the same time the approach of different cases where restitution wasclaimed. The laic had a dogmatic approach derived from Roman law. For instance,reimbursement to the creditor of lent money was stated in the Roman law ofliabilities and it was deemed that in such cases the Canon failed to apply. TheClerics nevertheless, had a starting point in the theory according to which anyearning obtained from a loan would pass as unjust enrichment.


The distinct points of view origin in Roman law – a dogma for the laic, whichdid not admit a general indemnification for the unjust enrichment unless therewere specific cases, where the impoverished person had the right to call uponactions that would have insured the loss reimbursement.

Ius commune22 secures restitution by different condictiones23, actio negotiorum,actio redhibitoria, actio de in rem verso, the rule on a correct price (iustum pretium),law rules related to rei, crimes and special privileges, as well as in integrumrestitutio. The specified Roman indemnities are applicable solely if certain con-ditions are met. Condictio indebiti was insured when negotium (transaction,trading, legal cooperation) took place between parties.; actio negotium gestorumbecame valid when the plaintiff acted with the intent of indebting the main debtorto himself; actio de in rem verso was incurred when the enrichment was achievedthrough a son or a slave, as mediators; a warranty (right to retention) may beperformed as long as the land is still not deserted.

There will always be deficiencies as a result restrictive use of Roman actionssystem. Thus, the ban of unjust enrichment is expressed in general terms, and,a duly general valid compensation that deserves to cover all possibilities andfulfil all the requirements of the restitution principle in Canon law lacks from theRoman sources. The clerical jurists considered that beyond any doubt, ius div-inum had to prevail even where Roman sources did not rule on the protectionof the impoverished person or even denied such protection. When the Romanlaw approach fails to satisfyingly settle the case, the Canon law is of service to thejudge (officium iudicis) as a last resort to impose divine law. (It is still not use-ful and law serving to constantly adopt such emergency measures, that involve“loss of credibility” for Roman law, as most of the doctrine thinks nowadays).

Some medieval authors supported the possibility of establishing a general obli-gation, claimed by divine law, solely based on Roman texts, building up a moregeneral liability for the unjust enrichment within the Roman system itself andbasing this perspective on arguments derived solely from Corpus iuris civilis24.According to this theory, the aforementioned Roman indemnities are not viewedas independent. The fact that positive law warrants compensations in thesespecific cases may be explained by reference to the general ban of enrichment,as basic rule of natural law. This is an opinion supported up to the 40’s of theXXth century, by a series of important authors who contributed to the theory ofunjust enrichment.25

Jurists, such as Bulgarus de Bulgarinis (d. 1166), Johanes Bassianus (d. 1197),Azo Porcius (cca. 1150-1220) and Accursius (cca. 1182-1263), who are partof the so called “Main” trend continued to observe very closely the Corpus Juristext. They aimed not to alter the Roman internal and logical consistency ofJustinian legislation, accepting in the case of unjust enrichment a general obli-gation of making restitutions.


Another opposition group Martinus Gosia (cca. 1120-1160) and other juristsbelonged to, accepted the general enrichment ban in a more generous way and offeredthe possibility to call upon the action whenever it would contradict the primarymeaning of the sources. They went as far as to sacrifice their significance and theinternal consistency of compilation for the actions related to social relationships andthe enforcement of divine law. Through interpretation, they were trying to buildup a general restitution obligation within the entire Roman law system26.

The dispute between glossers was also taken over by legal contemporary debate.We talk about a theory initiated in the Spanish legal space and supported bythe Dutch and German doctrine that argues that the unjust enrichment is actu-ally an internal principle of the civil codes that claims itself from equity.27

The issue of business management under the situation of explicit ban of themanaged party was raised since Roman times. The text C.2.18.24 comprisesan enactment by Justinian concerning business administration against the expressvolition of the managed party. There was even an argument between classic juristsconcerning this structure. Justinian agrees with Salvius Iulianus’ opinion (sec. al-II lea) according to which anyone who interferes in someone else’s business aftersuch interference had been deemed unwanted, loses the right to any kind of indem-nification. In this case the managed party’s will is clear. There were several noticesto this provision. The will of the managed party may result from an implicit state-ment. Certain authors claimed that, for instance, a mandate to purchase a certainobject that would not exceed a pre – established amount, implied the fact thatthe managed party did not want his agent to be the one managing his affairsby purchasing to a greater price than the set – up one.

Nevertheless, in both cases, ban of explicit and implicit management may stillbe present, should it prove useful (utiliter) to the managed party. In this case, themanaging party or the agent is the one impoverished and the question is whetheror not he / she enjoys available action to recover expenses against the enrichedmanaged party. Provision C.2.18.24 suggests this issue be rejected once andfor all: There will be no action against the managed party. Nonetheless, this isnot an incontestable fact to glossers, some even claiming that not businessmanagement shall be applied, but the general institution of unjust enrichment.The debate about the issue was catalogued as dissensiones dominorum, and inthe XXth century French doctrine it was put in theory under the name “theoryof imperfect business management28”

In parallel with the glossers’ interpretation and conceptualization works ofRoman texts, unjust enrichment became famous in the European space bycomprising the principle in the time’s legal displays.

Jaques d’Ableiges drafted in 1389 (not certified date), a “legal book” fromolder writings dedicated to his four grandchildren. It is a collection of Paris courtsresolutions. The author develops condictio indebiti through a test case where a per-


son made undue payment and concludes that “the restitution of the amount isnot based solely on legal arguments, but also on moral ones, from good – faithprinciples29”. At that time, undue payment was viewed as specific application,included in the unjust enrichment definition area.

Later on, towards the end of the XIVth century, Jean Boutillier, a judgefrom nearby Tournai, published the work Somme rural, and he aimed to put forthto the ones with no academic training the law principles. In book I, headlineXXVIII, Boutillier deals with condictio indebiti ºi condictio sine causa and clearlysets out the following rule: Locupletari non debet quis ex alterius iactura. Cette regledict que nul ne se doit enrichir du domage d’autruy30.

Hugo Grotius (1583-1645) is thought as having a final influence of the “unjustenrichment” institution in German law. He wrote two fundamental papers:one on natural law, De iure belli ac pacis, and the other on Roman – Dutch law,Inleidinge tot de Hollandsche rechtsgeleerdheid (Introduction to Dutch Jurisprudence).

Inleidinge is divided into three parts, and the author analyses people’s rights,real rights and liabilities’ rights. The contents generally correspond to Justinian’sorder of Institutions, but we draw attention on the fact that distribution of sub-jects dealt with in books II and III – real rights and liabilities – are based on ahierarchy of subjective rights. Grotius uses the term [recht van] toebehoren (trans-lated as “the ownership right”) for what the subjective right is in modern legalterminology. He differentiates two main categories of recht van toebehoren: beheer-ing (jus in rem) and inschuld (jus in personam sive creditum), in modern termi-nology, the real right and the debt (claim) right. The definition of the second –“an ownership right a person has upon another person in order to obtain fromhim / her a certain thing or deed” – is repeated at the beginning of the IIIrd bookentitled Van inschuld (On Personal Right).

The first section of this book, ‘On liabilities in general, their origin and type’must be taken into account for our purpose. What is interesting is the Grotiusdoes not constantly use the same terminology: at a given time he uses for theactive part of the liability the term creditor, inschuld, and also creditum, and some-where else he uses one of the words for the liability’s passive part; what wouldseem most appropriate would be schuld or uitschuld (debitum) – contrasting withinschuld – yet he more often uses verbintenisse, that would translate as obligatio.In fact, he specifies that the second term is a word for schuld (liability) in restric-tive sense; both words are related to inschuld (personal right or debt right) and theycannot exist without it.

In Inleidinge 3,1,9, he deals with what we name the liabilities’ sources. „Naturallaw, in itself, emphasizes two sources of personal right, namely the promiseand inequality”. We won’t deal here with the promise (he uses the Dutch word forthe Latin promissio). The concept of promise used by Grotius originates in Thomas


Aquinas and his exegetes, but, he relates it to Roman law categories, buildinga rather blurry system of “promises”

„Inequality” is another concept taken over from Thomas Aquinas and the oneswho formed the School of Natural Law. Inleidinge 3,1,14 provides a first sub-division of inequality as a source of liabilities.

„Concerning inequality, not every type of inequality is debated upon, aspeople cannot be equally rich, the debate goes to the inequality through whichsome take advantage of others or would like to do so should something be secured;or caused by another person31”.

The category – „that is caused by another person” – does not directly con-cern our thesis. In Inleidinge 3,1,16, it is divided into “caused by the will ofthe affected person” and “caused against the will”. The latter leads to the liabil-ity emerged from the fault of the other in the largest possible sense.

What mostly interests us is “the inequality some take advantage of or wouldlike to do so, should there be something to secure”. According to Inleidinge 3,1,15,this „compels the person who obtained proceeds to make indemnifications,with no relation to the way he came to hold the proceeds, and this is not sole-ly related to the in specie things, but also to the in genere things (...)”. There aretwo examples concerning the obligation to indemnify, yet only one is markedin the contemporary edition of Inleidinge, namely „if someone is fed with thefood of another”. This example was probably taken from one of the theologi-cal sources Grotius used, as it may also be found in Cajetan’s comment (Thomasde Vio Cajetanus, a Dominican Italian,) on Thomas Aquinas’ Summa Theologiae.

The second example of this liability, specified in Inleidinge 3,1,15 was addedby Grotius – some 20 years later in a marginal note of his own work copy:„This principle reveals that an owner, even in ill faith, could incur expenses andimprovements in exchange for the property”. He could have been inspired byone of Martinius’ opinions specified in the gloss Actionem in D.3,5,5,5.

In De iure belli ac pacis, Grotius refers to this text of the (Digeste) with theimplication that the action allowed to someone who does not care for my busi-ness at my advantage, but at his own advantage, is not an actio negotiorumgestorum, but an enrichment action based on natural laws.

The two examples of the principles concretized in Inleidinge 3,1,15 go waybeyond the solutions provided in the texts Corpus iuris civilis. This weighs heav-ily on the interpretation of the special section (3,30) where Grotius sets outthe principle. The named section is entitled Van verbintenisse mit baet-trecking.In the specialty literature, it is translated as „Out of the Obligation for Enrichment”,still, we would rather translate it as „Out of the Obligation for Derived Profit”, inorder to emphasize the direct link with Inleidinge 3,1,15 („the profiteer per-son” is liable of „paying indemnifications”).


In Inleidinge 3,30, Grotius created his own terminology. The first paragraphshows the principle 3,1,15 in the following manner: „Liability of derived prof-it is raised when, without legal basis, somebody makes or could make profit fromanother person’s property32”. Following some general observations on the char-acter of this duty, Grotius provides us with four examples, mostly taken fromthe Roman condictiones; at the end of the section (3,30,18) he deals with the fourthas it follows: „The fourth case means the repetition of something that in any way,besides gift, payment or promise became the property of a person outside anylegal cause; for instance, someone thought to have received money from athird person and in fact it was my money that was paid. We are not dealinghere with a loan agreement, consequently error is ruled out; equally it is rea-sonable that a person who took advantage of my property should offer indem-nifications.33”.

In Prolegomena from De jure belli ac pacis, at § 8, Grotius notes the first outof the four principles of natural law „alieni abstinentia, et ºi quid alieni habea-mus aut lucri inde fecerimus restitutio”.

The principle is extended in the second book of the Treatise. In order to under-stand the systematic order in the Treatise, we shall first make reference to the wellknown part where it is asserted that „the origins of wars are as numerous asthe origins of law suits (actiones forenses), and when legal agreements fail, warstake their place”. Subsequently enlisting different actions, he underlines that theyconsisted: „either of yet to be committed felonies, or of already committedfelonies”. The last type of action supports restitution (ut reparetur) or punish-ment (ut puniatur). Restitution refers either to what used to be ours, giving birthto vindicationes or to certain condcitiones or to what is owed to us sive ex pactione,sive ex maleficio, sive ex lege. It is obvious that the author had in mind the first prin-ciple where he refered to “the restitution that generates vindicationes and cer-tain condictiones”. This subject is elaborated in chapter 10 of the second book,entitled De obligatione quae ex dominio oritur. Terminology seems confusing toa modern civil law specialist, who does not find it easy to deal with vindicatioas founded on a liability resulted from dominium. Grotius on the other hand, usesthe concepts of Scholastics, that did not employ the Roman distinction betweenactiones in rem and actiones in personam. The fact that in chapter 10 he is underthe influence of Scholastic authors, also comes out from the subdivision per-formed on a obligatio ex dominio that may determine either e rebus extantibus(out of the still existing things) or e rebus non extantibus (out of the things nolonger in existence). This subdivision seems to be inspired from Cajetan’s work.

We did not aim at extending the explanation of the restitution of “the stillexisting things34”. We would like to draw attention on the restitution obliga-tion concept that in this case is based on the natural law doctrine according to


which there initially existed joint property, the private property being establishedby an explicit or silent agreement between men. That is why liability “compelsall people, as a universal agreement” (tamquam ex contractuuniversali).

The main interest to our theme is Grotius’ assertion on the restitution “ofthings no longer in existence”. The debate starts in 2,10,2,1 with the follow-ing statement: De rebus non extantibus hoc humano generi placuit, ut ºi tu ex re meafactus es locupletior, me rem non habente, in tantum tenearis, in quantum es factu locu-pletior. This rule of natural law is equal to the one in Inleidinge 3,1,15. It is thesame here; it is founded on inequality that in Inleidinge is one of the main sourcesof liabilities, resulted either from promise, or from inequality.

Quia quatenus ex meo lucratus es, plus habes, cum ego minus habeam introductaautem sunt dominia ad servandam aequalitatem in eo scilicet, ut quisque suum haberet.

Grotius notes the situations of interest for the issue in question, namely:1. Ulpian’s statement concerning funeral expenditures made against the heir’s

will (D.11,7,14,13): money may be claimed by actio funeraria because “a right-eous judge should not follow actio negotiorum gestorum and should look for anequitable settlement among more liberal tendencies, considering that nature grantsthis type of liberty35.

2. An assertion of the same jurist related to the position of a person who man-aged my affairs, but not in my own interest, but in his / her own interest(D.3,5,5,5): according to Grotius, probably following the opinion of the gloss-er Martinus, he makes use of an action, but not for his own expenses, but formy enrichment.

3We talk about the rule stating that owners of goods thrown overboard toease the ship should recover some of their values from the ones whose proper-ty was saved from being thrown out. (D. 14,2,1). The chapter on obligatio exdominio ends with the debate on the 10 “queries”. (At first sight is seems that thetext leans on Nufer’s interpretation on restitution without surpassing by muchthe Spanish Scholastics).

The importance of Hugo Grotius’ theories to the Dutch legal world is noticedin the definition of unjust enrichment within legislation and courts’ jurisprudence.A resolution of the Dutch Supreme Court, in the XVIIIth century specifies36:

„Person X wished to purchase a house in Hague. X made a deal with the owner,Y, in order to pay up the house’s value in a two month time period. In themeantime, X hired a worker, Z, to wallpaper his house. After a month X becamebankrupt and unable to pay the price for the house, consequently Y was rein-stated as owner. Z sued Y claiming payment for his work. The Court ruledthat the works made by Z were useful and necessary, consequently Y had topay for them based on the unjust enrichment principle.”


4. Definition of Unjust Enrichment in Comparative Modern Law

I. German Law

I N PRE-MODERN German law, the period between the XVIth and the XVIIIthcentury is called Usus modernus pandectarum37”. It is characterized by the tak-ing over of Roman law principles and adapting them to the modern soci-

ety evolution. Detailed analysis of Roman law by certified authors such as Leyser,Berger, Böhmer, Höpfner in the XVIIIth century resulted into the develop-ment of the theory of the good faith enriched person protection, who mustnot suffer the negative consequences of an action in restitution.

Following lively debates of the XIXth century and criticism on the two Projectsand Reports put forward by German experts, the general norm of § 812 BGBrepresents the impressive proof of their endeavour to obtain concentration andaccuracy of ideas:

„Any person who, by service provided by another person or by any othermeans, obtains an advantage outside legal cause, at another person’s expense,is obliged to restitution towards that person. This liability equally exists whenlegal cause subsequently disappears, or when the outcome pursued throughthe conveyance of a service as it is accomplished from the contents of the legalinstrument, fails to be accomplished.”

The core extraction effort is remarkable in Siebenhaar’s project for the SaxonCivil Code with 52 paragraphs. (Nowadays German law solely comprises 11).Two focus tendencies may be drawn out: on the one hand the classical conditionsof service are brought together in one paragraph, except condictio ob turpem veliniustam causam (§ 817 S. 1 BGB) that became almost unimportant pursuantto felonies’ reform (condictio indebiti, condictio sine causa specialis, § 812 Abs. 1 S.1 Alt. 1 BGB, condictio ob causam finitam, § 812 Abs. 1 S. 2 Alt. 1 BGB, and con-dictio causa data causa non secuta, § 812 Abs. 1 S. 2 Alt. 2 BGB). On the other hand,we have the regulations of lack of service and those of service condition in §812 BGB. Johow placed in his pre – project the conditions of use and interventionas application of unjust enrichment, even if they were concentrated in the chap-ter dedicated to real rights.

In § 812 Abs. 1 S. 1 BGB the tendency of the Civil Code that von Wysshad anticipated in his comments on the Swiss law of liabilities is pointed out.The first book and general theory of liabilities are legislative constructions sim-ilar to Swiss law where the definition of institutions is concerned. The right tounjust enrichment, in German law, has as doctrine asserts, a general part, name-ly § 812 Abs. 1 S. 1 BGB and § 818 BGB. The starting point of these regula-


tions supposes that everything that was acquired at the expense of another per-son and to his / her damage and without legal foundation must be restored.The part on legal consequences of actio de in rem verso fences down the enrich-ment claim presented in § 818 Abs. 3 BGB.

The preparatory works for the drawing up of the paragraphs in BGB wereinfluenced by B. Windscheid who managed to find the solution of encodingthe principle, by cumulating Pmponius’ principle and the practical applicationstaken over from the German universe legal tradition.

The report between § 812 Abs. 1 and § 814 BGB was to become a secondreason for debate to the following generations of jurists.

§ 812 Abs. 1 S. 1 Alt. 1 BGB turned into the unitary contradiction for all serv-ice cases. The Norm unifies the fundamental case of service condiction, condic-tio indebiti, with other service cases that up to that moment were defined oncondictio sine causa specialis, for instance the condiction to contract purpose diver-gence. The division of § 812 Abs. 1 S. 1 Alt. 1 BGB into condictio indebiti andcondictio sine causa din dare ob causam, 1070 made no longer sense, as the legis-lator had already expressly dissolved by § 814 BGB the old condictio indebitiand had introduced a new over group, the sero6vice condiction38.

In the “prestation (service)” analysis, the doctrine failed to express a clear pointof view because the analysis of the error to condictio indebiti came first.

Von Savigny had included in his Pandectar lecture the error in causa andhad stressed on the purpose set up, but most of the doctrine in the second halfof the XIXth century did not follow him. This continence was felt in legislativerulings. If the norm: “The one who by wrongful service or in any other way […]”had been drawn up up in § 812 Abs. 1 S. 1 BGB, the state of fact would havebeen more accurately expressed. The Commission resolved differently underthe urge of the majority doctrine, thus opening the door to speculations con-cerning the “righteous” positioning of purpose set up.

The text § 812 Abs. 1 S. 1 BGB is, in accordance with the evolutionary –historical interpretation, accessible both to the unit theory and to that of divi-sion. The first may construe in its favour both the legislator’s endeavour toreach a legal text simplification, and the fact that, unlike the Hessa and Bavariaprojects, and unlike the proposal of the Reich’s Office of Justice and the Swissliabilities’ right, besides the general provision, there is no additional norm dis-tinctly provisioned for condictio indebiti. The followers of the division theory mayat their turn argue that there is a background of common law, especially Windscheid’stheory and the reservations to Pomponius’ theory of equity.

Civil Code’s drawing up history viewed through prior codifications, as throughtheory, is much too complex to be obviously used in favour of one conception orthe other. Despite its ambivalent and broad drafting on January 1, 1900 § 812


Abs. 1 BGB was not a completely blank paper where opinions could be wilful-ly expressed. The norm is rather more similar to a form printed in majusculeswith pandectic traditions mixed with legislative innovations, leaving enoughliberty in the blank spaces to develop law further on.

The Civil Code’s parents gathered into a norm B. Windscheid‘s spirit, theygot inspired by Swiss law as well, by very old cases of unjust enrichment at theexpense of the other and by Savigny’s legal writings. Nevertheless, they didnot establish the way to fuse different ways of enrichment, the solutions beingleft in charge of science and of the new century’s practice.

Considering that a monumental work had been accomplished through theCivil Code, they suggested there was nothing more to be added to the words:„The claim derived from unjust enrichment in the detriment of another personhides a great idea, impossible to be put to practice to good end, as the idea of jus-tice should have been more clearly expressed than it was possible within the incom-plete social and economic reality. Nonetheless, - or maybe due to the abovefact – the idea of justice is good and great39”.

II. French Law

W E OWE to Jean Domat and Robert-Joseph Pothier the interpretationthat validated the modern formula of unjust enrichment in French law.Jean Domat (1625-1696) used to be a royal attorney – at – law in

his town, Clermont-Ferrand. He dedicated a complex work to civil law, publishedposthumously. This work opened new methodological horizons. The practitionerDomat started from the assumption that Roman law bore special importance toFrench law, but it was very little known in detail.40 That is why he aimed to achievea presentation of Roman law in French and at the same time a planning of thesame in its natural order41. Domat is an authentic researcher who synthesises unjustenrichment in an abstract form starting from the bases of Roman law.

„Celui qui se trouve avoir la chose d’un autre sans quelque juste cause, oú áqui une chose était donne pour une chose qui cesse, ou sous une condition quin’arrive point, n’ayant plus de cause pour le retenir doit la restituer. Ainsi, celuiqui avoit reçu une dot pour marriage qui ne s’accomplit point, oú est annulé doitrender ce qui n’était donne qu’à ce titre. Ainsi, à plus forte raison, ceux qui ontreçu de l’argent, ou autre chose, pour une cause injuste, sont tenus de le rendre42”.

(The one who finds himself in the situation of possessing another person’sgood without just cause or the one who was given a good for a cause thatceased to have purpose, and not having any reason for its retention, mustrestore it. The same goes for the one who received a marriage gift, should themarriage fail to have happened or should it have been cancelled, he must restore


solely what he was given by this title. Furthermore, the ones who received moneyor other things for unjust cause must restore that money or things.)

With these assertions, J. Domat explains the utility of cause in conventions.Narrowing the application field to extra- contractual relationships, he establish-es the restitutions that come out from the “annihilation” of contract due to absenceof cause on the nullity mechanisms themselves. As it was specified by an emi-nent Romanian jurist43 „cause was the usurper of condictiones”. Integrating thecause into the contract’s constitutive elements, the Roman condictiones disappearedas sanction of the restitution of values provided for the execution of annulled con-ventions, their area being cut out to simple extra contractual situations44.

Robert-Joseph Pothier (1699-1772) set the bases of French civil law. Hewas a judge, and since 1749 a law teacher at the University of Orléans. In hiswork, Pandactae Justinianae in novum ordinem digesta,(1748), he re divided CorpusJuri,s following new didactics and methodology thus fundamentally contribut-ing to the development of modern European civil law. Due to the special influ-ence on the codifiers of French civil law, Pothier is also referred to as „theanonymous editor of the Civil Code45”. In the great French legal advisor’swork, the unjust enrichment is dealt with in direct relationship with actio utilenegotiorum gestorum and with actio condictio indebiti. As natural equity is the basisfor the two actions, he updates Pomponius’ formula Iure naturae aequum est nem-inem cum alterius detrimento et injuria fieri locupletiorem. This systematization rep-resented the favourite source for the legislators of modern European states46.

Pothier’s legal vision on unjust enrichment and business administration domi-nated the French doctrine and jurisprudence between 1809 and 1890. In their greatmajority, jurists supported his thesis by even developing a theory of imperfect businessadministration, that based on the principle of unjust enrichment became inciden-tal every time the conditions for invoking business administration were not met47.

In this dynamic process of modernizing accumulations of the XIXth centu-ry the resolution Boudier contre Patureau influenced at its turn the developmentand redefinition of the role played by “unjust enrichment” in the French sys-tem of liabilities and not only that48.

During a time when imperfect business administration seemed to impose itselfin jurisprudence, the Cassation Court stated the following: „Taking under consid-eration that actio de in rem verso comes out from the principle of equity that bans aperson from becoming enriched in the detriment of another person, its exercise doesnot submit to any condition; it is enough for the plaintiff to claim and prove exis-tence of an advantage gained for the other party by personal act or sacrifice49”.

This is how an important way was opened to validating unjust enrichmentas the distinct source of obligations. The sole legal condition to promote action


was „the existence of an advantage gained for the person against which actionwas claimed, through personal deed or sacrifice50”.

In fact, a person by the name of Patureau let a piece of land to a peasant, namedGarnier – Godard in March 5th 1886. The contract was terminated on December22nd 1888 because the lessee owed the owner the amount of Fr 15 000 as let-ting fee and use of equipment. The harvest was transferred to Patureau in exchangefor one part of the debt and the pending amount was of FF 5,376. Subsequentlythe Boudier family, father and son, traders of fertilizers, presented Patureauwith a 324 Fr bill, for the fertilizer delivered to Garnier – Godard prior to ter-mination. He refused to pay it. The courts ruled in favour of the Boudier fam-ily considering that “since the plaintiff proved that the fertilizer had been deliv-ered on the date pointed out in the sentence and it had been used to fertilizethe defendant’s land that resulted in the crop the plaintiff enjoyed, he became acase of unjust enrichment51”.

Labbé, in a comment to the test case, drew up the following observations:“if the courts asserted that when the fertilizer was delivered to the farmer peas-ant and used to improve the land quality, the holder of the land was obliged topay up, the principle of the relativity of legal instruments had been thereby ignoredas included in the quote res inter alios acta aliis neque noces neque prodest.”

The fertilizer sale and purchase agreement created a right to the seller and adebt to the lessee peasant. Whether the fertilizer was used or not bears no rele-vance to the case. But the fact it had been used and the land fertility was increasedalso increased the land value resulting in proceeds to the owner with no expens-es on his side. A new obligation was created, in favour of the fertilizer providerand against the owner. The object of this obligation was not an amount fixedin advance, that was to be established, lower or higher compared to the priceof the agreement. There are two debts analysed within the test case, that of thelessee and that of the owner. Once one of the debts paid, the other disappears.

The test case’s commenter enlists the arguments for which unjust enrich-ment cannot be assimilated with business management and especially stressesupon the lack of intention to manage.

The Boudier’s attorney claimed that the action de in rem verso represented apenalty for failure to comply with the rule of equity, according to which nobodyshould become rich at the expense of another person at any time the patrimo-ny of one person is increased without just cause in another person’s detriment.

In conclusion, the French Cassation admitted the action on equity grounds.But it left to doctrine and jurisprudence the role to establish admissibility con-cerning conditions of action de in rem verso.

The subsidiary character of the action de in rem verso was also validated by aFrench resolution from the jurisprudence point of view. Thus, in the case Villede Bagnères- de-Bigorre contre Briauhant, the Court of Cassation stated on March


2nd 1915 that: “The action de in rem verso must not be admitted except for thecase when one person’s patrimony is enriched without legal basis to the detri-ment of another person who does not benefit of any other action born fromthe contract, quasi – contract, felony or quasi - felony52”

We traced a hint favourable to the distinction between institutions in an impor-tant resolution from 1919 that admits the selfless intent as a necessary elementof genuine business management53 and states the role it plays in the differentia-tion reported to unjust enrichment. Even though pursuant to this resolutionthe perspective became clearer, the confusion between the two mechanismspersisted in the European legal space54.

III. Romanian Law

T HE ROMANIAN Civil Code did not expressly validate provisions con-cerning the unjust enrichment. Still, some of them applied the princi-ple and set out the restitution obligation whenever increase of a per-

son’s patrimony in detriment of another person’s patrimony was acknowledged.One may see such applications in articles 484, 493, 494, 997, 1618, 1691, 1522,766, 1164 of the Civil Code and equally in articles 33 and 99 of Law no. 18/1991concerning the Land Fund.

The reformation of the Civil Code was attempted several times, and there wereexpress validation formulae of a general principle suggested for unjust enrichment.

In the first version of the Carol the IInd Civil Code, unjust enrichment wasexpressly provisioned as a principle in article 1200 under the following enunci-ation: „The person who, without a just cause became rich to the detriment ofanother person, is held responsible, within the limits of his enrichment, toreimburse the wronged party with an amount equal to that which the person wasdeprived of. The claim cannot be admitted should the one filing it enjoy the rightto another action in order to acquire what he was deprived of 55”.

Carol the IInd Civil Code’s editors explained the reason for introducing theexpression “what he was impoverished by”. “This necessarily involves the ideathat that the impoverishment came as a result of the enriched person’s deed,fact that narrows down the area of the regulation enforcement compared tothe actual status of jurisprudence. The action of in rem verso is ruled out when thevalue the impoverished person was deprived of entered into the patrimony of theenriched person through a third party – the indirect enrichment. On the otherhand repetition is ruled out as well, should enrichment be the result of a natu-ral deed and not of a human deed.”56

Recently, due to the new Romanian Civil Code’s project, in debate in theRomanian Parliament, its promoters constituted, by article 1093, the follow-ing enunciation concerning unjust enrichment: „ (1) The person who, withouta just cause became rich to the detriment of another person, is held responsi-


ble, within the limits of his enrichment, to reimburse the wronged party withan amount equal to that which the person was deprived of. (2) The claim can-not be admitted should the one filing it enjoy the right to another action in orderto acquire what he was deprived of”.

From the point of view of the legal conditions for restitution action, article1094 provisions a limitative list of the grounds justifying enrichment: „Enrichmentis justly founded when it comes as a result of: a valid obligation execution;failure to exercise the right the one who got deprived had against the enrichedperson; a deed fulfilled by impoverished person in his own and sole interest, athis own risk, by case, with constant liberal intent57”.

Art. 1094 put forward an innovative regulation for the European space, as itis the result of doctrine and jurisprudence synthesis of the last 100 Romanian years.

Once Romanian law took over the principle, the conditions of action per-formance were announced within the doctrine: existence of value transfer, lackof cause, the rightful link between parties. Further on, the author unified the threeconditions into two: the actual damage of one party should correspond to theactual enrichment of the other, for this enrichment to be deemed unjust, mean-ing to lack cause58.

Since the beginning of the XXth century, Romanian doctrine aimed to assim-ilate the French interpretations of the period.

The Romanian legal practice debut in the field is initiated by the 1902 reso-lution59, even though it had been ignored by the Interwar period doctrine dueto the fact it applied, in an out of date manner, the unjust enrichment princi-ple. “An inconstant business manager”, lacking good faith won the trial againstthe owner for expenditures’ reimbursement, as it was thought that “there wasenough satisfying report that generated obligations for the owner, applying byanalogy the principle of unjust profit”60”. The Court applied to the test casethe French jurisprudence interpretations concerning abnormal business man-agement that were prior to the case Boudier versus Patureau. (We shall extensivelyanalyse this issue in subchapter 3.3.1).

Unjust enrichment, was for the first time analysed by the Supreme Court in1922, from structural and systematic perspective, on the occasion of settlingthe litigation in the “”war damages test case61”.

Actually, during the war (1917 ) Russian Armies cut and picked up from the for-est owned by Mrs. Alice N. Nanu a certain quantity of wood, using part of it forreinforcement of defence positions in case of enemy attack: the Romanian state sub-sequently used these works. The owner made a claim of damage – interests againstthe Romanian state, for the inflicted damage. The Court ruled against the actionand stated that the issue referred to war damages that had to be settled in compli-ance with a decree law of 1919. The Court of Appeal62 differently construed the case,


ruling the issue referred plainly to damage – interests and not to war damages.Nevertheless, The Court of Cassation, used the then contemporary French jurispru-dence arguments, specifying that „Law constantly states that the restitution obli-gation generated by unjust enrichment as well as the action de in rem verso for thevaluing of that obligation derive from an irrefutable equity and natural law princi-ple that although not formally regulated can pass as legal grounds for an action incourt without being submitted to special rules and restrictions related to the issueof quasi – contracts, felonies or quasi - felonies63” We notice that the principle ofaction subsidiary was not specified and examined within the case.

One of the main aspects that Romanian judicial practice reveals up to con-temporary times is that according to which law courts constantly promotecompliance with legal conditions, in the meaning provided by doctrine.64

IV. Other European Law Systems

A RTICLE 2041 of the Italian Civil Code of 1942 stipulates that: “Theperson who, without a just cause (in the original giusta causa) becamerich to the detriment of another person, is held responsible, within the

limits of his enrichment, to reimburse the wronged party with an amount equalto that which the person was deprived of”. Art 2042 specifies that: “the enrich-ment action cannot be received when the impoverished person can use of alter-native ways to recover the deprived amount.65”.

The judicial terms for taking legal actions in restitution are: the lack of ajust cause, and the lack of an alternative action for recovering the deprived amount.The text of article 2041 generated lively discussions in Italian doctrine becauseit uses the phrase “recovery of deprived amount”. This implies a larger area ofaction, even though in article 2041 it is clearly stated that “the enriched is respon-sible within the limits of his enrichment.66”

In Swiss civil law, in the Swiss obligations Code, § 62 stipulates: „The per-son who became rich to someone else’s detriment without just cause, is respon-sible for restitution.67”.

The new Dutch civil code of 1992 regulates in article 204 enrichment with-out just cause. „1. The person who became rich unjustly, to someone else’sdetriment must, inasmuch as it is acceptable, repair the prejudice brought tothe wronged party so as to lead to the latter’s enrichment. 2. A diminution ofenrichment cannot be taken into account if the diminution comes from a seriesof events unattributable to the enriched. 3. A diminution of enrichment dur-ing the time when the enriched couldn’t consider the restitution obligation is notattributable to the enriched. When examining the diminution of enrichment, theamounts which the enriched wouldn’t have been spent had he not becomerich, will be taken into account.68”.


It is interesting to analyze the perspective of good faith in the context of aware-ness or lack of awareness regarding enrichment without just cause.

Conclusions

I N SYSTEMS of law, as well as in the area of current knowledge, it is theGreek and Roman civilizations that offer the ethical and moral fundamen-tals, as well as the legislative and institutional framework for modernity.

It was easy to start with Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics where the authorlaid the basis of the principles of democracy, the philosophical and ethical sys-tems, which were later confirmed and enriched by European historical evolution.Justice is at the core of this system, which features two main characteristics:distributive and commutative, the latter concerning relationships between peoplebased on fundamental respect for each other’s rights.

Ulpian69 went further: Iustitia est constans et perpetua voluntas ius suum cuiquetribuendi, thus formulating more than a definition, and enhancing the possibil-ity that a person can own, enjoy, ask for, and receive what is rightfully his or hers.Among others, speaking broadly, he argues that the people’s status quo shouldbe protected, thus linking it to one of the basic principles of natural law: (I.)UT ne quis alterum laedat, utque (II.) ºi quod damnum alteri dederit, id reparet70.This is considered to be the moral ground of felony law. The above text is clear,and does not leave room for interpretation. That is, judicial thinking never tol-erated the enrichment of one person to the detriment of another: Nam hocnatura aequum est neminem cum alterius detrimento fieri locupletiorem71.

Felony law as well as the laws regarding unjust enrichment are two optionsmeant to implement the suum cuique tribuere precept. The first refers to the lossbrought forth by the plaintiff (regardless of the gain of the accused); the secondto the gain of the accused (regardless of the simultaneous loss of the plaintiff).

At ideal parameters, the legal system provides the remedy for unjust enrich-ment when one person gains a profit that rightfully belongs to another. This ideal,however theoretically desirable, is difficult to implement in judicial practice asthe terms „unjust”, „on unjust grounds”, or „without just cause” are relative, andcannot determine in what circumstances a person can keep a certain profit.

The semantic option used in Romanian law for the terms „unjust enrichment”is broader than the terms „without just cause.” (A „cause” is more open tointerpretation, and thus can generate confusion).

„On unjust grounds” doesn’t give enough information about the plaintiff.That is why our thesis analysis, as well as the published studies, made us choosethe terms „to someone else’s detriment” or „at someone else’s expense”, whichare frequently used in German Law.


Going further, we encountered repeatedly in the studied literature the incor-rect notion that enrichment is connected to a loss. The corrections we want toimplement concern the way in which the „unjust” or „unjust cause” enrich-ment took place that is either through a transfer, or an alternative method72.The German system leads the way in this area also, including in comparison withother legal systems.

The subdivision with the concept of transfer in the middle is not arbitrary. Anobligation, to use Justinian’s words is a vinculum iuris, quo necessitate adstringimuralicuius solvendae rei.

The necessity to enterprise a certain activity will be achieved using the effectof the law or through a contract.

According to Roman law, transfer was possible in order to obtain an exchangeaction or effect (ob rem), to fulfil a contractual obligation (obligandi causa), orcould be given as a gift (donandi causa). Roman legislators put together a systemto remedy enrichment (the condictiones), which complemented the contractualsystem. Except in cases of condictio ex causa furtiva, one party tried to recover thatwhich it lost to another. Donandi and obligandi causa transfers did not need theuse of specific remedies, unlike datio ob rem. This was the area where condic-tiones causa data causa non secuta ºi ob turpem vel iniustam causam was applied.Condictio indebiti was the most important form of action based on unjust enrich-ment, as it would cover the paradigmatic situation of indebitum solutum.

Same as in antiquity, people today still transfer goods, money, and services.Much more frequently, these transfers are made solvendi causa – to fulfil an obli-gation. For this purpose, modern judicial systems switched the ex nudo pactonon oritur actio principle, and developed beyond the sphere of the fragmented con-tractual system of Roman law. They also expanded the applicability of condictioindebiti, giving it as main purpose the fulfilment of contract law, and applying itin situations in which a transfer does not reach its destined purpose (the fulfilmentof obligations by the person who makes the transfer to the one to which it is made).

The keeping of the profit by the receiver is not justified if the one whomakes the transfer was not obligated to do so, that is if the transfer was made„without just grounds” or „without just cause”.

The reference to the notion of transfer has three advantages: firstly, it syn-chronizes the right of the contract with the right of the unjust enrichment. Secondly,it determines to whom the restitution should be made. Thirdly, it provides arelatively simple test to determine whether enrichment is „without just cause73”.

Reference to the „legal grounds” makes another feature of complaining aboutmodern unjust enrichment through transfer. It is irrelevant whether the trans-fer had legal grounds or not, as the contract on which it was made may havenot existed; may have been void for a variety of reasons; may have had anoth-er objective; or may have been related to another creditor. All these situations


will be determined by the contract’s right. (Restitution right is not concernedwith these issues).

For the writing of a new system regarding unjust enrichment in Romanianlaw, items already part of contemporary law systems should be taken into account.Thus, indirect enrichment, and enrichment by means of expenditure savings can-not be any longer ignored by Romanian jurisprudence and doctrine. At the sametime, a useful tool for evaluating enrichment is that of „obtained advantage”. Thiscovers material enrichment, as well as non-pecuniary enrichment. Identifying theimpoverished party in three-way relationships or complex judicial situationscan be easily achieved by means of answering the question „on whose expensewas the enrichment made?”

The judicial instruments proposed in this paper are meant to replace theclassical system for evaluating enrichment. The classical traditional methoddoes not provide the real picture of the obligation rapport through the inter-posing of third parties between enriched and impoverished.

�

Notes

1. See J.W. Neyers’, Unjust Enrichment: An introduction, in J.W. Neyers, M. McInnes, S.Pitel, Understanding Unjust Enrichment, Hart Publishing, 2004, p. 5 and subsequentand P. Birks, Foundations of Unjust Enrichment, Victoria University Press, 2002, p. 82.

2. See I, resolution no. 1344 of December 12, 1922, Romanian jurisprudence, year X,no. 1-2, 1922, p. 227-228.

3. See C.C. Stoicesco, De l’enrichissment sans cause, Paris, Librarie Marescqainé, 1904,doctoral thesis presented at the Law Faculty of Paris, C.N. Toneanu, Unjust Enrichment,in Law no. 5, 14, 16/1905; D. Gerotas thesis, La theorie de l’enrichissement sanscause dans le code civil allemand, Paris, 1925, and others. Between 1899 and1947, 80doctoral thesis were written in France dealing with themes in the field „unjust enrich-ment”

4. Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, Translation by T. Brãileanu, Ed. Antet XX Press,Bucureºti, 2001, p. 101.

5. Idem, p. 115.6. See theory support by D. Leite de Campos, Les presupposes externes de l’action de in

rem verso, Thèse, Paris II, 1978, p. 369, 378 ºi 382.7. Ch.P. Filios is one of the most important supporters within French doctrine,

L’enrichissement sans cause en droit privé français. Analyse interne et vues comparatives,Ed. Ant.N. Sakkoulas/Bruylant, Atena/Bruxelles, 1999, p. 127-128.Most of theAmerican doctrine in the filed of unjust enrichment theory deems the commuta-tive justice as the historical basis for unjust enrichment.

8. Artistotle, cited works, p. 106-107. The Romanian translation uses the term „com-mutative justice”.


9. See Ch.P. Filios, cited works, p. 13 and following; B. Küpisch, Ungerechtfertigte Bereicherung:geschichtiliche Entwicklungen, Ed. Gulde-Druck, Tübingen, 1994, p. 1-4.

10. A.P. Leyval, De la notion d’enrichissement injuste en droit romain classique (Une appli-cation du Bonum et Aequum), Doctoral thesis, Baconnier Frères, Alger, 1935, p. 135;Apud Ch.P. Filios, cited works., p. 15.

11. Digeste (50.17.20), C. Hamangiu, I. Rosetti-Bãlãnescu, Al. Bãicoianu, Tratat de dreptcivil român, (new edition), Ed. All Beck, Bucureºti, 1998, p. 479; Vl. Hanga,Drept privat roman, Ed. Didacticã ºi Pedagogicã, Bucureºti, 1977, p. 409.

12. Ch.P. Filios, cited works., p. 17; B. Küpisch, cited works., p. 7.13. J. Hallebeeck, Developments in Medieval Roman Law, vol. Eltjo J.H. Schrage, Unjust

Enrichment: The comparative legal history of the law of restitution, Drucker und HumboldVerlag, Berlin, 1995, p. 59.

14. D. Gherasim, cited works., p. 44-45; Vl. Hanga, cited works., p. 410.15. H.G. Koppensteiner, E.A. Krammer, Ungerechtfertigte Bereicherung, Ed. Walter de

Gruyter & Co., Berlin-New York, 1988, p. 19-24.16. See H. Coing, Zur Lehre von der ungerechtfertigten Bereicherung bei Accursius, ZSS

Rom. Abt. 80 (1963), p. 398-399; R. Feenstra, Die ungerechtfertigte Bereicherung indogmengeschichtlicher Sicht, Ankara Universitesi Hukuk Facultesi Dergisi 29 (1972),p. 289-305; J.J. Hallebeek/E.J.H. Schrage, Ongerechtvaardigde verrijking, Grapen iutde geschiedenis van de algemene verrijkingsactie van het NBW, Amsterdam 1989, p.27-55; D.H. van Zyl, Die saakwaarnemingsaksie as verrykingsaksie in die Suid-Afrikaansereg, Leyden, 1970, p. 34-50.

17. A similar enunciation could be found in other Corpus iuris texts. In D.12.6.4., therule is classified as equitable, according to nature. In D.2.15.8.22. it is describedas equitable. See also, D.14.3.17.4. ºi D.23.3.6.2. and D.23.3.16. The dictum wasadopted as regula locupletari in De regulis iuris of Liber Sextus (1298).

18. Exodus 20:15 Apud B. Küpisch, cited works., p. 34.19. Epistle 153 ad maced. 20 (Migne, PL 33, par. 662)., Apud B. Küpisch, p. 34-35.20. Cf. C.14 q.6 c.1; VI de regulis iuris, regula peccatum; K.Weinzierl, Ruckgabepflicht

nach kanonischem Recht. Rechtshistorische, rechtsdogmatischem Darstellung, Freiburg,1932, p. 34.

21. Propoziþiile lui Peter Lombard (d. 1164): Lib. IV dist. 15 cap. 7 nr. 9; Toma d’Acquino,Summa Theologiae, II-II, q. 62, Apud K. Weinzierl, Die Restitutionslehre derFruhscholastik, Munchen 1936.

22. Roman law, as it is expressed in different parts of Justinian’s legislation, Corpusiuris civilis, may be viewed as the final outcome of long and continuous developmentsduring Ancient times. This study’s purpose restricts to simplex interpretatio. Thetext itself, as we have known it from Roman Ancient Times, is the starting pointfor XIIth century Bologna medieval legal studies to present. Jurists assign nospecial value to the text’s historical genesis, although it contains older materialsthat suggest elements of previous regulations and illustrate the historical genesisof Justinian law. They do not interpret it as a historical source, but – at least outsideconstitutional and criminal law – as a solid code of the law in force.

23. As are condictio indebiti (C. 4.5; D. 12.6), condictio causa data causa non secuta (C.4.6; D. 12.4) ºi condictio ob turpem vel iniustam causam (C. 4.7 and 9; D. 12.5).


24. See „salvarea credibilitãþii dreptului roman” („to the rescue of Roman law credibility”):G. Dolezalek, Teologii morali, doctrina restituirii ºi jurisdificarea ei în secolul al XVI-lea ºi al XVII-lea în: Acta Juridica, 1992, p. 105.

25. H.J. Wieling, Bereicherungsrecht, Springerverlag, 2006, p. 25.26. J. Hallebeek, cited works., cited phrases27. Idem, The Concept of Unjust Enrichment in Late Scholasticism, 1996, p. 43.28. J. Halebeek, cited works, p. 60.29. See W. Lang, Der Allgemeine Bereicherungsanspruch im französischen Recht vor und

nach dem Code Civil, Doctoral Thesis, Johann Wolfgang Goethe University, Frankfurtam Main, 1975, p. 38 and Ch.P. Filios, cited works., p. 41.

30. W. Lang, cited works., p. 39; B. Küpisch, cited works., p. 33.31. R. Feenstra, cited works., p. 211-215.32. Idem, p. 216.33. Idem, p. 217.34. This explanation is found in Djhap 2,10,1,2 (ed. a V-a, p. 319-321); strating with

E rebus exantibus obligatio haec nascitur, qua tenetur is qui rem nostram habet in potes-tate, efficere quantum in se est, ut in nostram potestatem veniat.

35. For the Latin text, see, J. Hallebeek, A catalonian custom and a forbiden negotiorumgestorum, Journal of Legal History 12, 1991, p. 117-131, and E.J.H. Schrage, Deopgedrongen verrijking: over de actio funeraria de actio negotiorum gestorum en dekosten van de begrafenis, Acta juridica, 1992 (Essays in honour of Wauter de Vos).

36. Note 303 of C. van Bijnerkershoek, W. Pauw, Observationes tumultuariae, Apud E.J.H.Schrage, cited works, p. 228 (Observationes tumultuariae groups Dutch Supreme Courtjurisprudence, Hooge Raad in the XVIIIth century).

37. B. Küpisch, Ungerechtfertigte Bereicherung, Usus modernus pandectarum in Deutschlandunter Berücksichtigung des preußischen Allgemeinen Landsrechts (ALR) und des öster-reichischen Allgemeinen bürgerlichen Gesetzbuchs (ABGB), în E.J.H. Schrage, citedworks, p. 238 and following.

38. D. König, Ungerechtfertigte Bereicherung. Tatbestände und Ordnungsprobleme in rechtsver-gleichender Sicht, Heidelberg, Winter, 1985, p. 20.

39. W. Lang, cited works, p. 16.40. H. Capitant, De la cause des obligations, 2 ème éd., Paris, 1924, p. 164, Apud W. Lang,

cited works, p. 48.41. The formula was „Les loix civiles dans leur ordre naturel”.42. See Oeuvres completes. Les lois civiles, nouvelle edition par J. Rémy, T.I. Gobelet,

Paris, 1835, p. 466, Apud Ch.P. Filios, cited works, p. 42.43. M. Moºoiu, De l’enrichissement injuste. Étude de droit compare. Doctoral thesis.

Paris, LJAM, Paris, 1932, p. 7 and following44. Ch.P. Filios, cited works p. 42, W. Lang, cited works, p. 47.45. See also H. Mitteis, Deutsche Rechtsgeschichte, edition revised by H. Lieberich,

C.H. Beck Verlag, München, 1981, p. 207 and the following, for Pothier’s influenceon European civil law

46. H. Schlosser, Grundzüge der Neuen Privatrechtsgeschichte, ed. a 7-a, C.H. Beck, Verlag,München, 1993, p. 60 and the following


47. M. Merlin, Recueil alphabetique des questions de droit, 4eme éd., t.II, Garnery, Paris, 1825,Apud. Ch.P. Filios, cited works, p. 48.

48. See the cause in H. Capitant, Les grands arrest de la jurisprudence civile, 10-eme edition,edition revisée de F. Terré ºi Y. Lequette, Ed. Dalloz, Paris, 1994, p. 631 and following

49. Ibidem.50. At the time of principle synthesizing in the Romanian doctrine, it was thought

that the three conditions for action performance were: existence of value transfer,lack of cause, rightful link unifying the parties, and they further on became two: actu-al damage had to correspond to the actual enrichment of the other party in order forthis enrichment to be deemed unjust, meaning to lack cause.

51. H. Capitant, cited works, p. 631-632.52. Case Ville de Bagnères- de-Bigorre was reproduced by H. Capitant, cited works, p. 638.53. Ch.P. Filios, cited works, p. 86-91.54. Idem, p. 88.55. Ministry of Justice, Codul civil Carol al II-lea, Official Edition, Imprimeria Centralã,

Bucureºti, 1940. (Subsequently the text in art. 1200 became art. 1072).56. Idem, p. 799.57. Parlamentul României, Proiectul Noului Cod civil Român: www.just.ro/bin/proiec-

te_de _lege/proiecte/codul_civil.html58. C.N. Toneanu, op. cit., p. 38.59. A se vedea subcapitolul 1.3.60. Trib. Vlaºca, sentinþa din 22 noiembrie 1902, în Curierul Judiciar, 1903, p. 30.61. A se vedea Cas. I, deciziunea nr. 1344 din 12 decembrie 1922, în Jurisprudenþa Românã,

anul X, 1923, nr. 1-2, p. 227-228.62. „(...) Still, because the wood extracted from the forest was used by Russian Armies

for reinforcements and country defence and then passed on to Romanian Armies,and the state unjustly enriched itself to the detriment of the plaintiff, it is liable incompliance with article 998 of the Civil Code, because liability from unjust enrich-ment to the detriment of another person is nothing else than a liability in an illicitcase ”. C. Ap. Iaºi, section I, 31, April 6th, 1922 in C. Hamangiu, Codul civil Adnotat,Ed. Librãriei Universala, Alcalay &Co, 1927, p. 493.

63. Ibidem.64. See V. Ursa, Aspecte ale evoluþiei practicii judiciare privitoare la îmbogãþirea fãrã temei

legitim, in Studia Universitatis Babeº-Bolyai. Iurisprudentia nr. 1/1977, p. 55-62.65. F. Galagano, Diritto Privato, decimal edizione, Casa Editrice Dott Antonio, Milan,

1999, p. 393 and the following.; E.J.H. Schrage, cited works., p. 271.66. F. Galegano, cited works., p. 394.67. E.J.H. Schrage, cited works., p. 272 and D. Gherasim, cited works., p. 64. (The lat-

ter identified wrongly the paragraph quoted at § 62.)68. E.J.H. Schrage, cited works., p. 272.69. D 1, 1, 10 pr; see also Inst I, 1, pr; regarding Ulpian’ definition see W. Waldstein,

Zu Ulpians Definition der Gerechtigkeit (D 1, 1, 10 pr), C.H. Beck in Festschrift fürWerner Flume München, vol. 1, 1978, p. 213.


70. R. Zimmermann, The law of Obligations. Roman Foundations of the Civilian Tradition,in Restitution Law Review, 1992, p. 1032, E. Picker, Vertragliche und deliktischeSchadenschaftung în Juristenzeitung, 1987, p. 1041 and the following.

71. Ch. Wollschläger, Das stoische Bereicherungsverbot in der römischen Rechtswissenschaft’,in Römisches Recht in der europäischen Tradition, Symposion für Franz Wieacker, 1985,p.. 41 and the following.

72. Enrichment „through an alternative method” here refers to the enrichment whichwas „not achieved through transfer”. For a detailed analysis of problems and situa-tions discussed here see infra 10-14.

73. The enrichment of a third party is more difficult to analyze. In that case, German spe-cialists believe that Leistung cannot be mechanically applied to find the right solu-tion in each case. On the other hand, the Leistung concept constitutes the hub aroundwhich certain case categories (Fallgruppen) were constituted in German law. The implic-it evaluations were explained by Claus-Wilhelm Canaris in his famous articleBereicherungsausgleich im Dreipersonenverhaltnis in vol Ch. Beck, cited works., p. 799.

AbstractThe Contribution of Romanian and European Legal Elite

to the Definition of the Unjust Enrichment Concept

Unjust enrichment is known in the European law systems under names that not only suggest thenon – unitary “juridical translation” but also a different inter-pretation, this being the reason forpursuing a comparative method in our research. The judicial instruments proposed in this paperare meant to replace the classical system for evaluating enrichment. The classical traditional methoddoes not provide the real picture of the obligation rapport through the interposing of third par-ties be-tween enriched and impoverished.

Keywordslegal elites, unjust enrichment, law systems, legal grounds, EU


I I . R OA D S T O M O D E R N I T Y –R E T U R N S T O T H E PA S T

I I . 1 M O D E R N F O R M S O F M E D I E VA L L E G A C I E S

1. Argument

B OTH THE subject of our research and the periodical classification wepropose are tightly related to Moldavia’s politico-juridical relationshipswith the Ottoman Empire, which have direct implications in the domes-

tic political structure and financial organization, in the criminal code practices.In the 17th century, the subordination to the Ottoman Empire increased. Afterward,the Phanariote regime introduced in 1714 implied the administration of the twocountries like quasi-provinces of the Empire, with the help of Princes of Greekorigin, directly appointed by the Sultan, with no consultation of the indige-nous political class. These foreign Princes’ particular situation led to a politicalconduct that was their specific one, thus unavoidably determining a significantmodification of the Romanian traditional world structures. In our investiga-tion, this will be underlined by analysing the documents that mention criminalpenalties that attest the execution of punishments, out of which the most fre-quent one was the redemption of the offence by paying a sum of money. We mustsay that the number of such papers is a limited one among the written docu-ments, most of them being acts issued in the aftermath of civil trials and mak-ing no distinction between civil and criminal issues as far as the procedure is con-cerned. These situations are to be explained by the absence of the written motivation

Between the Memory of the Customaryand the Code of Law

Crimes, Penalties and Social Identitiesin Pre-Modern Moldavia

(17th Century – First Half of the 18th Century)Components of the Project and

the Current Stage of the Research

CÃTÃLINA-ELENA CHELCU


for the court order in jurisdictional procedure. Such procedure, consisting inthe quoting, in the order, the juridical norm that the judges were referring towhen making the decision, became compulsory after Constantin Mavrocordat’srequest. This is one further reason to establish temporary limits to cover the17th century and the first half of the 18th one1.

Our project therefore makes a classification of the social identities, as theyappear in the context of the confrontation between the memory of the cus-tomary norms and the discovery of the written/read juridical texts. Briefly, thisis a symbolic dispute between power and authority. The customary was the author-ity of ancientness and of the uninterrupted practice of customs, somehowanonymised by the passage of time. The code of law became a gesture of thepower, emerged from the desire of the one endowed with the necessary meansof coercion to impose a unification/bureaucratization of the law practices.

2. Stage of the research

O UR PROJECT regarding the social implications of the criminal law prac-tices, based upon the two law sources existing in the Romanian medievaland pre-modern period – that is, the customary and the Byzantine

code of law – has the privilege of benefiting by solid investigations made in theare of: the origin of criminal law and procedure in the medieval and pre-mod-ern period; the definition and content of the notions of criminal offence and penal-ty; the limits of private law and of the collective criminal responsibility2. At thesame time, the contribution of linguistics, historical sociology and ethnology isnot to be ignored in such an approach3. The historians’ perspective on the phe-nomenon of penalty in the medieval and pre-modern period is little visible inthis field literature. As it is known, a form of resistance of the Romanian histo-riography facing the necessity to comply with the communist ideology – thatstressed the materialist interpretations in the detriment of the empirical research– was erudition, which found in the political and cultural history of the 18th

century a wide range of possibilities. These preoccupations were accompaniedby the publication of the critical editions of documents, chronicles and codes oflaws. Given the context, the issues related to the criminal law did not find aplace among the historians’ preoccupations, as this was a prohibited theme, tobe approached only by the judicial history specialists. We only have a few starts,substantiated in several papers referring to the main fines in 15th-18th centuryMoldavia, to cases of capital punishment in the 16th century, to medieval justicein general4. The latest approach concerning the topic we are interested in, fromboth a strictly juridical and a historical perspective, was that of Valentin Al. Georgescu


and P. Strihan, Judecata domneascã în Þara Româneascã ºi Moldova 1611-1831[‘Princely Judgment in Walachia and Moldavia, 1611-1831’], Part I. Organizareajudecãtoreascã [‘Judicial Organization’], vol. I (1611-1740), Bucureºti, 1979and Part II, Procedura de judecatã [‘Law Procedure’] (1611-1831), Bucureºti, 1982.After 1989, the cultural and intellectual opening towards the fertile approaches ofhistory in the occidental cultural area, which came with new directions of research,did not entail, in the case of Moldavia, a shift in the angle of analysis of thecriminal phenomenon. Better represented from this standpoint (delinquency and/orcriminality) is the Walachian historiography5 and the Transylvanian one6.

3. Types of sources and working hypotheses

O UR RESEARCH’S objective is the description and analysis of the crimi-nal law practices (offences and penalties) present in the 17th centuryRomanian society. For a better organization, we will not elude the prem-

ises of the 16th century and we will stop towards the middle of the Phanariotecentury. The higher limit will be the years 1741-1742, when ConstantinMavrocordat, prince for the second time in Moldavia, issued an unusual juridi-cal document, functioning as fundamental law: Condica de porunci, corespon-denþe, judecãþi ºi cheltuieli a lui Constantin Mavrocordat ca domn al Moldovei, (1741-1742) [‘The Book of decrees, correspondences, judgments and expenses ofConstantin Mavrocordat as Prince of Moldavia’], after it had been decreed inWalachia as well in 1740, by the same Prince. The document was accompaniedby a series of charters, decrees and assembly decisions – decisions of several coun-cils assembled – that go up until 1749, as part of what was wanted to repre-sent a reform of the Romanian law system. We are in a period when the eco-nomic, political and ideological influences of Western Europe were sensibly diluted,on the background of a rise of the Ottoman domination in this part of thecontinent.

Besides these general features, the temporal limits of our investigations arealso justified by the way in which two sources of formal law are applied, that isthe customary, called in documents “the law” or the “country’s law” and the writ-ten law codes, coming from the Byzantium by means of Slavonic translations;these are the famous “pravile” or nomocanons. These latter included both ele-ments of ecclesiastic law and elements of civil and criminal law.

Furthermore, special attention must be paid to the context in which thecode of laws in Romanian appears, elaborated under Vasile Lupu. The stronglypenal character forces us to a self-contained research project. The issue represents,firs of all, a pretext to examine the social situation of the epoch, during which the


attitude of the lawgiver – as enforcer of the juridical norms existing in the State– towards the different denominational, social or ethnical categories representsthe means by which our investigations might lead to satisfactory results.

As mentioned above, in the period we analyse, the court order did not needto be motivated by the invocation of the law system on the basis of which thedecision was made. Generally, until the middle of the 17th century, referencesare made to the “divine law”, “God’s law” and less to the law code (the codi-fied, canonical one, the “Church pravila”, and the imperial one, the “imperialpravila”). Starting with the first half of the 18th century, the references to the“imperial pravila” and to the “holy pravila” grow more numerous. We intendto establish to what extent this phenomenon can be spotted in the criminal lawpractices, more precisely in the orders given by courts.

4. Methodology

I NVENTORYING, EXAMINING and classifying the orders enforced by courtson the individuals accused of criminal offences, we will approach, more eas-ily, the objectives of the project. This departure will prepare the path for

the illustration of the existing hierarchies in the social structure of those times,of the differences between the groups forming the society. The topic impliesthe approaching of the anthropological method applicable in the dynamic areaof social interactions. We should state that we approach penalty on the groundsof a modern definition.

We will follow to what extent the denominational, social or ethnic differences,the differences between the older and the recent inhabitants of Moldavia, rep-resented grounds for a different treatment in criminal matters. In both thecontent of Vasile Lupu’s Pravila, and that of the other documentary and narra-tive sources we can see signs of a different juridical treatment of the defendant,according to his belonging to one group or another. That is why we intend toconfront the text of the code of laws with that of the documents of criminal nature,to establish to what extent the written law was applicable. We mention thatthe opinions of those who dwelt upon this subject are different. They declaredthemselves either against the use of the Pravila stipulations in the juridical pro-cedures, or in favour of a limited applicability, based upon the fact that fragmentsof law were found in the penalty decisions referring to certain offences. We believeour approach is necessary for the clarification of this issue, a necessary andcompulsory condition being to make an attentive reading of both the pub-lished and the unpublished documents, written in Slavonic or in Romanianwith Cyrillic alphabet, from different archives. Another objective of the projectis the way in which the criminal fine levied by the Prince or his tax farmers becomes


both a modality to punish and a source of incomes. Continuing this idea, weintend to motivate the levying, by some monasteries, of the quantum of pun-ishment for murder (duºegubina), usually meant to the princely court7.

5. Phases of the project

5.1 Looking for hierarchies

W E ARE here in a period that precedes modernity, a period when theprinciple of equality to law had not yet been stated, justice being madeaccording to the position that the defendants held in society. When we

talk about categories of population and the manner in which criminal law jus-tice was enforced in their case, we should, first of all, identify the criteria accord-ing to which certain groups forming the social structure are places in hierarchiesand separated from each other. In our opinion, the denominational, social and eth-nic criteria are determinant for the definition of the structure of a population,and their listing in this order corresponds to the importance they have in the groups’hierarchy we have mentioned. Consequently, we intend to establish the way inwhich hierarchies are constructed in Moldavia in the proposed period, examin-ing the time sources. By their subjectivity or objectivity, they create the generalimage of the society where they live: manuscript juridical writings8 and pub-lished ones9, chancellery documents10, literary chronicles11, encomiastic literature12,popular books13, notes on manuscripts and books from the epoch14.

5.2. Denominational, social, ethnic. A Law for everybody?

F OR THE area we have in view, justice was, first of all, a Christian and anOrthodox one, and it mainly addressed the ones who shared this denom-ination. Moreover, in Romanian language, in both the documents and

written works of the 17th century we will see that the “law” designated, invari-ably, the religious affiliation. Starting from this criterion, in the investigated peri-od we meet, near an Orthodox Christian majority, two other Christian minori-ties, the Catholic and the Armenian one. Here too, in the same period, nearthe Christians we find the Muslims and the Jews. Then, the most significantethnic minority, if we take into consideration the number and the influencethey had in the Romanian society of that time, are the Greeks. At a closer look,we will discover that behind this group that we might be tempted to call anethnic one, we find not only the Greeks, but also the people speaking Greekand coming from the Balkans and settled down in Moldavia, who could havebeen Albanians or Aromanians. In an hierarchical society, ordered according tothe mentioned criteria, we try, following the sources, to establish how muchthe denominational, social and ethnic belonging of he individuals weighed in the


judgment of the incriminated facts. The sources we will work upon are: chan-cellery documents published in the two national collections of sources15, in pri-vate collections16, as well as unpublished documents, lying at the State Archivesof Iaºi17, the National Archives of Bucharest18 and the Library of the RomanianAcademy19, Carte româneascã de învãþãturã [Romanian Book of Teachings],Iaºi, 1646, the way the phenomenon of criminality was regarded by the for-eign travellers20, the Greek chronicles21, the religious painting of the 16th centu-ry22, where one can find different aspects of the social life, transposed in thegravures of published books of the following century (the gravure of Carteromâneascã de învãþãturã [Romanian Book of Teachings], 1643, for instance)23.

5.3. Justice and taxation: between the headsman, the prison and the Treasury

THE OTTOMAN Empire in Moldavia, installed in the middle of the 16th cen-tury, also influenced the quantum of the domestic taxes, following theobligations to the Porte. We think about the multiplication of the tax obli-

gations in Moldavia, especially in the 17th century, and reaching their climax in the18th century24. Then, we refer to conversion of the old taxes into monetary royal-ties and, last but not least, to the elimination of fiscal immunities starting with thesecond half of the 16th century, which were returned to later, under different forms.In this context, changes occur in the punishment execution as well, by tolerating theredemption of punishments with money. Even the most serious ones, like rob-bery, could be redeemed or even pardoned by the Prince, a supreme judge of thecountry, under certain conditions. Generally, the corporal punishments and impris-onment eventually took more and more often the pecuniary form of execution.Consequently, our objective is, on the one hand, the analysis of the way in whichthis practice becomes a component of the general plan of collection of the cashthat the princely court needed, to meet the Ottoman requests, and, on the otherhand, the way it was applied at the level of the social structures, inside the majori-ty Orthodox group and inside the minority groups, from an ethnic and denomi-national perspective. Moreover, we will focus on the law regulations regarding thefiscal offences that the 17th century princes and especially the princes of the next cen-tury try to fight (like, for instance, eluding the payment of the duºegubina).

A particular problem are the fiscal immunities acquired by some of the Moldavianmonasteries. Among these privileges, there is the levying, by these monasteries,of the fines (“gloabe”) for serious offences (“big deed”) like murder. By right,the investigation of the offences was the responsibility of the Prince, who was alsolevying the fine, established according to the gravity of the crime. Consequently,we insist upon this aspect pertaining to the relation between two institutions,the Principality and the Church, in the period we have in view, from the perspectiveof some juridical and fiscal privileges that the monasteries were entitled to25.


6. Relevance of the project

T HE CUSTOMARY was preserving the memory of litigious situations, as wellas the inventory of the decisions to those situations. The written codes oflaws were codifying part of those long run experiences, the political cir-

cumstance conserving or “forgetting”, according to the interests, a series ofstipulations and immemorial customs. From our point of view, the social iden-tities of the moment did not come out from the written provisions, but fromthe distances that always appeared between the letter of the law and its enforce-ment. These social identities emerge from the otherwise inherent conflict betweenan extremely complex reality and the articles of law that did not manage tocomprehend it in some brief phrases. The competition between the customaryand the law leads to the modification of the way in which the idea of guilt wasregarded, many of the gestures that once seemed to be self-explanatory becom-ing, over night, offences. This is the so-called “process of civilization”, whichNorbert Elias or Louis Marin talked about, each in his own style. Thus, somelaws that seemed to serve, apparently, the individual’s interest, were actually estab-lishing a tacit control, of a different nature. In our case, the modernizing effortoriginated in an increase of the central power as well, but not like in the caseof France; this was an increase emerged from the despair to comply with theOttomans’ bigger and bigger requests. The simplification of taxes under thePhanariotes was therefore updating the competition between the Prince andthe land owner. Here starts, in our opinion, the long history of the sharecrop-per’s transformation into the tax-payer citizen.

�

Notes

1. For the content, meaning and consequences of Constantin Mavrocordat’s reform,see Valentin Al. Georgescu’s pertinent analysis, Reforma judecãtoreascã a lui ConstantinMavrocordat ºi urmãrile ei [Constantin Mavrocordat’s legal reform and its consequences],in Judecata domneascã în þara Româneascã ºi Moldova 1611-1831 [Princely Trials inWalachia and Moldavia], vol. II (1740-1831) in Part I. Organizarea judecãtoreascã[Legal Organization], Bucureºti, 1981, p. 5-16, with bibliographical references.

2. It is important to mention the fact that most of the studies on penality in the RomanianPrincipalities come from the legal sciences area: S. G. Longinescu, Istoria dreptuluiromânesc din vremile cele mai vechi ºi pânã azi [History of Romanian Law from AncientTimes to Today], Bucureºti, 1908; idem, Pravila lui Vasile Lupu ºi Prosper Farinaccius,romanistul Italian [The Code of Law of Vasile Lupu and Prosper Farinaccius, the ItalianRomanist], Bucureºti, 1909; idem, Fragmente din istoria dreptului penal roman [Fragmentsfrom the History of the Romanian Criminal Law], „Curierul judiciar” [“The Legal


Express”], no. 41, 28 November 1946; no. 1, 1 January 1927; no. 5, 6 February 1927;no. 10, 13 March 1927; no. 15, 17 April 1927; no. 30, 18 September 1927; C. V.Obedeanu, Originile dreptului penal roman în dreptul nescris [Origins of the RomanianCriminal Law in the Customary Law], in „Revista penalã” [“Criminal Magazine”], yr.V,nos. 1-3, 1926, pp. 64-71; ªtefan Berechet, Judecata la români pânã în sec. XVIII[Romanians’ Trials until the 18th Cnetury], Chiºinãu, 1926; idem, Schiþã de istorie alegilor vechi româneºti [Sketch of Old Romanian Law History], Chiºinãu, 1928; I.Tanoviceanu, Tratat de drept ºi procedurã penalã [Treaty of Criminal Law and Procedure],2nd ed., Bucureºti, 1928 I. C. Filitti and D. I. Suchianu, Contribuþii la istoria dreptu-lui penal roman [Contributions in the History of the Romanian Criminal Law], Bucureºti,1927; idem, Contribuþii la istoria justiþiei penale [Contributions in the History of CriminalLaw], Bucureºti, 1928; I. C. Filitti, Despre vechiul drept penal roman [About the OldRomanian Criminal Law], Bucureºti, 1928; idem, Vechiul drept penal roman (schiþã).Întregiri privitoare la vechea organizare judecãtoreascã [The Old Romanian Criminal Law(A Sketch). Further Information Regarding the Old Legal Organization], Bucureºti, 1934(excerpt); Petre Ionescu-Muscel, Istoria dretului penal roman. Spre o nouã justiþie penalã.Studiu comparat. Istorie – Filosofie – Drept [History of the Romanian Criminal Law. Towardsa New Criminal Justice. Compared Study. History – Philosophy – Law], Bucureºti, 1931(excerpt); Ion Peretz, Precis de istoria dreptului român [Handbook of Romanian LawHistory], Bucureºti, 1931; Ioan D. Condurachi, Trãsãturile caracteristice ale vechiu-lui drept penal românesc [Characteristic Features of the Old Romanian Criminal Law],Bucureºti, 1934; P. P. Panaitescu, Obºtea þãrãneascã în Þara Româneascã ºi Moldova.Orânduirea feudalã [Peasant Community in Walachia and Moldavia. The Feudal System],Bucureºti, 1964, chap. Statutul juridic al obºtii [“Juridical status of the communi-ty”], pp. 200-234; Andrei Rãdulescu, Pagini din istoria dreptului românesc [Pages ofRomanian Law History], comments, notes and introduction by Irina Rãdulescu-Valasoglu (ed.), Bucureºti, 1970; George Fotino, Pagini din istoria dreptului româ-nesc [Pages of Romanian Law History], an anthology, introduction, notes and bibli-ography by Gheorghe Cronþ and Stanca Fotino, Bucureºti, 1972; Al. Constantinescu,Jurãmântul judiciar în vechiul drept bisericesc [Legal Oath in the Old Church Law], in“Biserica ortodoxã românã” [“The Romanian Orthodox Church”], yr. XCII, nos.9-10, 1974, pp. 1261-1265; Valentin Al. Georgescu, Bizanþul ºi instituþiile româneºtipânã la mijlocul secolului al XVIII-lea [Byzantium and Romanian Institutions untilmid-18th Century], Bucureºti, 1980; Istoria dreptului românesc [The history of RomanianLaw], vol. I, Vladimir Hanga (ed.), Bucureºti, 1980; Valentin Al. Georgescu and P.Strihan, Judecata domneascã în Þara Româneascã ºi Moldova 1611-1831 [PrincelyJudgement in Walachia and Moldavia 1611-1831], Part I. Organizarea judecãtoreascã[Legal Organization], vol. I (1611-1740), Bucureºti, 1979 and vol. II (1740-1831),Bucureºti, 1981; Part II. Procedura de judecatã (1611-1831) [Trial Procedure], Bucureºti,1982; Radu Constantinescu, Vechiul drept românesc scris. Repertoriul izvoarelor 1340-1640 [The Old Romanian Written Law. Catalogue of Sources], Bucureºti, 1984; VladimirHanga, Les institutions du droit coutumier roumain [Institutions of Romanian CustomaryLaw], Bucureºti, 1988; Ovid Sachelarie and Nicolae Stoicescu (eds.), Instituþii feu-dale din Þãrile Române [Feudal Institutions in Romanian Principalities], Bucureºti, 1988;Ioan N. Floca, Din istoria dreptului românesc [Pages of Romanian Law History], I. Dreptul


nescris [Unwritten Law], II. Carte româneascã de învãþãturã de la pravilele împãrãteºtiºi de la alte gudeþe, Iaºi, 1646 [Romanian Book of Teachings from the Princely Codes of Lawand from Other Trials, Iasi, 1646], Sibiu, 1993; Emil Cernea, Emil Molcuþ, Istoria stat-ului ºi dreptului românesc [The History of Romanian State and Law], revised andupdated edition, Bucureºti, Editura Universul Juridic, 2004.

3. B. P. Hasdeu, ªugubeþ ºi ºugubinã. Un rest din influenþa juridicã a slavilor asupralimbii române [ªugubeþ and ªugubinã. A rest of Legal Influence of the Slaves on theRomanian Language], in “Columna lui Traian” [“Trajan’s Column”], yr. III, no. 1,1882, pp. 612-619; Henri H. Stahl, Contribuþii la studiul satelor devãlmaºe româneºti[Contributions in Studying Romanian Joint Property Villages], vol. I, Bucureºti, 1958,vol. II, Bucureºti, 1959, vol. III, 1965; idem Ethnologie de l’Europe du Sud-Est.Une anthologie [South-Eastern Europe Ethnology. An Anthology], Paris, 1974; RomulusVulcãnescu, Etnologie juridicã [Legal Ethnology], Bucureºti, 1970.

4. Gh. Ungureanu, Pedepsele în Moldova la sfârºitul secolului al XVIII-lea ºi începutul sec-olului al XIX-lea [Punishments in Late 18th Century and Early 19th Century Moldavia],Iaºi, 1931 (excerpt); A. Cazacu, Justiþia feudalã [Feudal Justice], in Viaþa feudalã în ÞaraRomâneascã ºi Moldova (sec. XIV-XVII) [Feudal Life in Walachia and Moldavia (15th –17th Centuries)], Bucureºti, Editura ºtiinþificã, 1957, pp. 465-499; N. Grigoraº,Principalele amenzi din Moldova în timpul orânduirii feudale (secolele al XV-lea – al XVIII-lea) [The Main Fines in Moldavia Under the Feudal System (15th – 18th Centuries)], in“Anuarul Institutului de Istorie ºi Arheologie «A.D.Xenopol»” [“The Annual of the‘A.D. Xenopol’ Institute of History and Archaeology”] – Iaºi, 1969, 6, pp. 159-176.

5. „Ceea ce Dumnezeu a unit, omul sã nu despartã. Studiu asupra divorþului în ÞaraRomâneascã îm perioada 1780-1850 [“What God has joined together, let no man put asun-der”. A Study on Divorce in Walachia in the Period 1780-1850], in “Revista istoricã”[“Historical Magazine”], nos. 11-12, 1992, p. 1143-1155; Ligia Livadã-Cadeschi,De la milã la filantropie. Instituþii de asistare a sãracilor din þara Româneascã ºi Moldovaîn secolul al XVIII-leai [From Mercy to Philanthropy. Institutions of Poverty Assistancein 18th Century Walachia and Moldavia], Bucureºti, Editura Nemira, 2001; LigiaLivadã-Cadeschi, Laurenþiu Vlad, Departamentul de cremenalion [The CriminalDepartment], Bucureºti, Editura Nemira, 2002; Cristina Codarcea, Société et pou-voir en Valachie (1601-1654). Entre la coutume et la loi [Society and Power in Walachia(1601-1654). Between Custom and Law], Bucureºti, Editura Enciclopedicã, 2002;Constanþa Ghiþulescu, În ºalvari ºi cu iºlic. Bisericã, sexualitate, cãsãtorie ºi divorþ înÞara Româneascã a secolului al XVIII-lea [Sharovary and Ishlik. Church, Sexuality,Marriage and Divorce in 18th Century Walachia], Bucureºti, Editura Humanitas,2004; idem, Focul amorului. Despre dragoste ºi sexualitate în societatea româneascã (1750-1830) [The Fire of Love. About Love and Sexuality in the Romanian Society (1750-1830)],Bucureºti, Editura Humanitas, 2006; Dan Horia Mazilu, O istorie a blestemului [AHistory of Curse], Iaºi, Editura Polirom, 2001; idem, Lege ºi fãrãdelege în lumearomâneascã veche [Legal and Illegal in the Old Romanian World], Iaºi, Editura Polirom,2006; Violeta Barbu, „Furtiºagul” din visteria þãrii: de la justiþia sumarã la proces (ÞaraRomâneascã, secolul al XVII-lea) (I) [The “Pilferage” from the Country’s Treasury: FromSummary Justice to Trial (17th Century Walachia)], in “Revista istoricã” [“HistoricalMagazine”], t. XV, nos. 3–4, 2004, pp. 83–100 (I); t. XVI, nos. 1–2, 2005, pp.


143–152 (II); Oana Rizescu, Avant l’«État-juge»: Pratique juridique et constructionpolitique en Valachie au XVIIº siècle [Before the “Judge-State”: Legal Practice and PoliticalConstruction in 17th Century Walachia], Bucureºti, Editura Notarom, 2008.

6. Toader Nicoarã, Transilvania la începuturile timpurilor moderne (1680-1800). Societatearuralã ºi mentalitãþile collective [Transylvania in Early Modern Times (1680-1800). RuralSociety and Collective Mentalities], Cluj-Napoca, Editura Dacia, 2001.

7. Very useful to our approach proved to be the methodological perspectives proposedby H. Levy-Bruhl, Aspects sociologiques du droit [Sociological Aspects of Law], Paris, 1955;Geoff Eley, A Crooked line. From Cultural History to the History of Society, The Universityof Michigan Press, 2005; Carmelo Trasselli, Maurice Aymard, Monique Aymard, Dufait divers à l’histoire sociale. Criminalité et moralité en Sicile au début de l’époque mod-erne [From the News Items to the Social History. Criminality and Morality in Sicily at theBeginning of the Modern Period], in: “Annales. Économies, Sociétés, Civilisations”[“Annals. Economies, Societies, Civilisations”], yr. 28, N. 1, 1973. pp. 226-246; ThierryGodefroy, Bernard Laffargue, Crise économique et criminalité. Criminologie de la misèreou misère de la criminologie? [Economical Crisis and Criminality. Criminology of Destitutionor Destitution of Criminology?], in: Déviance et société. [Deviance and Society] 1984- Vol. 8 - N°1. pp. 73-100; Arlette Farge, Le goût de l’archive [The Taste of the Archives],1989; eadem, Dire et mal dire. L’opinion publique au XVIIIe siècle [Mouthing andBadmouthing. Public Opinion in the 18th Century], 1992; eadem, Des lieux pour l’histoire[Places for History], Éditions du Seuil, 1997; eadem, Le bracelet de parchemin. L’écrit sursoi au XVIIIe siècle [The Parchment Bracelet. Writing on oneself in the 18th Century], Paris,2003; Carlo Ginzburg, Brânza ºi viermii. Universul unui morar din secolul al XVI-lea[The Cheese and the Worms. The Cosmos of a 16th Century Miller], Rom. transl. by ClaudiaDumitriu, Bucureºti, Editura Nemira, 1996; Robert Darnton, Marele masacru al pisiciiºi alte episoade din istoria culturalã a Franþei [The Great Cat Massacre and Other Episodesin French Cultural History], Rom. transl. by Raluca Ciocoiu, Iaºi, Editura Polirom,2000; Natalie Zemon Davis, Ficþiunea în documentele de arhivã. Istorisirile din cererile degraþiere ºi povestitorii lor în Franþa secolului al XVI-lea [Fiction in the Archives. Pardon Talesand Their Tellers in 16th Century France], Rom. transl. by Diana Cotrãu, Bucureºti,Editura Nemira, 2003; all contributions in the volume L’enquête judiciaire en Europeau XIXe siècle. Acteurs, Imaginaires, Pratiques [Criminal Investigation in 19th CenturyEurope. Actors Imaginaries, Practices], Paris, 2007.

8. Eustratie Logofãtul, Pravila aleasã, 1632 (manuscris) [The Rare Code of Law, 1632(manuscript)].

9. ªapte taine [Seven Secrets], Iaºi, 1644 (see Moses Gaster, Crestomaþie Românã. Textetipãrite ºi manuscrise secolele XVI–XIX dialectale ºi populare cu o introducere, gramat-icã ºi un glosar româno-francez [Romanian Chrestomathy. Printed Texts and Manuscriptsin the Dialectal and Popular 16th – 19th Centuries, vol. I, Leipzig, 1891, p. 114-117);Carte româneascã de învãþãturã [Romanian Book of Teachings], critical ed., AndreiRãdulescu (ed.), Bucureºti, 1961.

10. See in the following. 11. Ureche, Grigore, Letopiseþul Þãrâi Moldovei [Chronicle of the Country of Moldavia], intro-

duction, index and glossary by P. P. Panaitescu (ed.), Bucureºti, 1955; Miron Costin,Opere [Works], introduction, notes, comments, variants, index and glossary by P. P.


Panaitescu (ed.), Bucureºti, 1958; Ion Neculce, Opere. Letopiseþul Þãrii Moldovei ºi Osamã de Cuvinte [Works. The Chronicle of the Country of Moldavia and Some Teachings],critical edition and introduction by Gabriel ªtrempel, Bucureºti, Editura Minerva, 1982;Dimitrie Cantemir, Descrierea Moldovei [Moldavia’s Description], translation accord-ing to the original in Latin by Gh. Guþu. Introduction by Maria Holban. Historicalcomment by N. Stoicescu. Cartographic study by Vintilã Mihãilescu. Index by IoanaConstantinescu. With an introductory note by D. M. Pippidi, Bucureºti, 1973.

12. Homage verses from Metropolitan Varlaam’s Homiliary, Iaºi, 1643; Cuvântul duhovnicesc[Homily] uttered by metropolitan Petru Movilã in 1645 (see P. P. Panaitescu, PetruMovilã. Studii [Studies], afterword, notes and comments by ªtefan S. Gorovei andMaria Magdalena Székely (eds.), Bucureºti, Editura Enciclopedicã, 1996, pp. 89-96).

13. N. Cartojan, Cãrþile populare în literatura româneascã [Popular Books in RomanianLiterature], vols. I-II, Alexandru Chiriacescu (ed.), introduction by Dan Zamfirescu,afterword by Mihai Moraru, Bucureºti, Editura Enciclopedicã Românã, 1974(Alexandria, Floarea darurilor, Sindipa [Alexandria, The Flower of Gifts, Sindipa).

14. The investigation of the selected material will be done by using the method of lin-guistic archaeology, proposed by Lucien Fèbvre in Civilisation, le mot, l’idée (PremièreSemaine Internationale de synthèse) [Civilisation, the Word, the Idea (First InternationalWeek of Synthesis)], Paris, Renaissance du livre, 1930, as well as by Michel Foucault,Cuvintele ºi lucrurile. O arheologie a ºtiinþelor umane [The Order of Things], Rom. transl.by Bogdan Ghiu and Mircea Vasilescu, Bucureºti, Editura Univers, 1996, and idem,A supraveghea ºi a pedepsi. Naºterea închisorii [Discipline and Punish. The Birth of thePrison], Rom. transl. and notes by Bogdan Ghiu, Bucureºti, Editura Humanitas, 1997.

15. Documente privind istoria României [Documents on Romania’s History], A, Moldova,Veacul XVI [16th century], vol. I (1501-1550); vol. II (1551-1570); vol. III (1571-1590); vol. IV (1591-1600), Bucureºti, 1951; Veacul XVII [17th century], vol. I(1601-1605); II (1606-1610); vol. III (1611-1615); vol. IV (1616-1620); vol.V (1621-1625), Bucureºti, Editura Academiei, 1952–1957; Documenta RomaniaeHistorica, A., Moldova, vol. XVIII (1623–1625), edited by I. Caproºu and ValentinConstantinov, Bucureºti, Editura Academiei, 2006; vol. XIX (1626-1628), editedby Haralambie Chircã, Bucureºti, Editura Academiei, 1969; vol. XXI (1632-1633),edited by C. Cihodaru, I. Caproºu and L. ªimanschi, Bucureºti, Editura Academiei,1971; vol. XXII (1634), edited by C. Cihodaru, I. Caproºu and L. ªimanschi,Bucureºti, Editura Academiei, 1974; vol. XXIII (1635-1636), edited by L. ªiman-schi, Nistor Ciocan, Georgeta Ignat and Dumitru Agache, Bucureºti, EdituraAcademiei, 1996; vol. XXIV (1637-1638), edited by C. Cihodaru and I. Caproºu,Bucureºti, Editura Academiei, 1998; vol. XXV (1639-1640), edited by Nistor Ciocan,Dumitru Agache, Georgeta Ignat and Marius Chelcu, Bucureºti, Editura Academiei,2003; vol. XXVI (1641–1642), edited by Ioan Caproºu, Bucureºti, Editura Academiei,2003; vol. XXVII (1643–1644), edited by Petronel Zahariuc, Cãtãlina Chelcu, MariusChelcu, Silviu Vãcaru, Nistor Ciocan and Dumitru Ciurea, Bucureºti, EdituraAcademiei, 2005; vol. XXVIII (1645–1646), edited by Petronel Zahariuc, MariusChelcu, Silviu Vacaru and Cãtãlina Chelcu, Bucureºti, Editura Academiei, 2006.

16. Eudoxiu de Hurmuzaki, Documente privitoare la istoria românilor [Documents on theRomanians’ History]; vol. I, supplement 1, Bucureºti, 1886 (edited by Gr. G. Tocilescu


and A. I. Odobescu); IV/1, Bucureºti, 1880 (edited by I. Slavici); IV/2, Bucureºti,1884 (edited by I. Slavici); V/1, Bucureºti, 1885 (edited by I. Slavici); V/2, Bucureºti,1886 (edited by I. Slavici); VIII, Bucureºti, 1894 (edited by I. Slavici); IX/1, Bucureºti,1897 (edited by I. Slavici); X, Bucureºti, 1897 (edited by N. Iorga); XI, Bucureºti,1900 (edited by N. Iorga); XII, Bucureºti, 1904 (edited by N. Iorga); supplementII, vol. 3, Bucureºti, 1900 (edited by Ioan Bogdan and Ioan Skupiewski); XIV/1,Bucureºti, 1915 (edited by N. Iorga); XV/2, Bucureºti, 1913 (edited by N. Iorga);N. Iorga, Anciens documents de droit roumain, avec une preface contenant l’histoire dudroit coutumier roumain [Old Documents of Romanian Law, with a Preface Including theHistory of the Romanian Customary Law], I-II, Paris-Bucarest, 1903; idem, Studii ºidocumente cu privire la istoria românilor [Studies and Documents Regarding the Romanians’History], I–XXV, Bucureºti, 1902–1913; Mihai Costãchescu, Ioan Bogdan, Gh.Ghibãnescu, Surete ºi izvoade [Copies and Manuscripts], I–XXV, Iaºi, 1906–1933; idem,Ispisoace ºi zapise (documente slavo-române) publicate de … [Old Slavic-Romanian Documentsand ActsPublished by …] I1-2 – VI1-2, 12 vol. 1906-1933; Iacov Antonovici, Documentebârlãdene [Documents from Barlad], I–V, Bârlad-Huºi, 1911–1926; Teodor Balan,Documente bucovinene [Documents from Bukovina], I–IV, Cernãuþi, 1933–1937; VII,Iaºi, 2005; VIII-IX, Iaºi, 2006; Constantin Solomon, C. A. Stoide, Documentetecucene[Documents from Tecuci], vol. I–II, Bârlad, 1938–1939; Aurel V. Sava, Documenteprivitoare la târgul ºi þinutul Lãpuºnei [Documents Regarding the Town and the Landof Lãpuºna], Bucureºti, <1937>; idem, Documente privitoare la târgul ºi þinutul Orheiului[Documents Regarding the Town and the Land of Orhei], Bucureºti, 1944; Ioan Caproºuand Petronel Zahariuc, Documente privitoare la istoria oraºului Iaºi [Documents Regardingthe History of the City of Iasi], I, Acte interne (1408-1660) [Internal Acts], Iaºi, 1999;Ioan Caproºu, Documente privitoare la istoria oraºului Iaºi [Documents Regarding theHistory of the City of Iasi], II, Acte interne (1661–1690) [Internal Acts], Iaºi, 2000;III, Acte interne (1691–1725) [Internal Acts], Iaºi, 2000; IV, Acte interne (1726–1740)[Internal Acts], Iaºi, 2001; V, Acte interne (1741-1755) [Internal Acts], Iaºi, 2001; VI,Acte interne (1756-1770) [Internal Acts], Iaºi, 2004; Florin Marinescu, Roumanikaeggrafa tou Agiou oruz. Arheio Ieraz moniz Eiropotamou, Tomoz protoz, A?ina. (Marinescu,Florin, Documente româneºti de la Sfântul Munte. Arhiva Sfintei Mãnãstiri Xeropotamu[Romanian Documents from Mount Athos. Archives of the Holy XeropotamouMonastery], Tom. I, Athens, 1997; idem, Roumanika eggrafa tou Agiou oruz. Ar?eioIeraz moniz Prwtatou, A?ina?(Marinescu, Florin, Documente româneºti de la SfîntulMunte. Arhiva Sfintei Mãnãstiri Protatu [Romanian Documents from Mount Athos. TheArchives of the Holy Protatou Monastery], Athens, 2001.

17. The archive collections Documente, Vistieria Moldovei ºi Spiridonie [Documents, Moldavia’sTreasury and Spiridonie].

18. The archive collection Documente istorice [Historical Documents].19. The collection Manuscrise [Manuscripts].20. Cãlãtori strãini despre Þãrile Române [Foreign Travellers about the Romanian Principalities],

II, Maria Holban, M. M. Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru and Paul Cernovodeanu (eds.),Bucureºti, 1970; III, Maria Holban, M. M. Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru and PaulCernovodeanu (eds.), Bucureºti, 1971; IV, Maria Holban, M. M. Alexandrescu-DerscaBulgaru and Paul Cernovodeanu (eds.), Bucureºti, 1972; V, Maria Holban, M. M.


Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru and Paul Cernovodeanu (eds.), Bucureºti, 1973; VI, M.M. Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru and Mustafa Ali Mehmet (eds.), Bucureºti, 1976;VII, Maria Holban, M. M. Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru and Paul Cernovodeanu (eds.),Bucureºti, 1980; VIII, Maria Holban, M. M. Alexandrescu-Dersca Bulgaru and PaulCernovodeanu (eds.), Bucureºti, 1983; Elisabetta Borromeo, Voyageurs occidentaux dansl’Empire ottoman (1600-1644) [Western Travellers in the Ottoman Empire], volumes I-II,Maisonneuve & Larose, Paris, 2007; Marco Bandini, Codex. Vizitarea generalã a tutur-or Bisericilor Catolice de rit roman din Provincia Moldova 1646–1648 [Codex. General Visitof All Roman-Catholic Churches in the Province of Moldavia], bilingual ed., introduction,established Latin text, translation and glossary by Traian Diaconescu, Iaºi, 2006.

21. Cronicul lui Chesarie Daponte de la 1648-1704 [Chesarie Daponte’s Chronicle from 1648-1704], in Constantin Erbiceanu, Cronicarii greci care au scris despre români în epocafanariotã [Greek Chroniclers who Wrote about Romanians in the Phanariotes’ Period],Bucureºti, Editura Cronicar, 2003, p. 5-63; Catalogul istoric a omenilor însemnaþidin seculul XVIII, dintre carii marea majoritate au trãit în þãrile Române Valahia ºiMoldova [The Historical catalogue of the18th century important people, most of whomlived in the Romanian Principalities of Walachia and Moldavia] by Chesarie Daponte,in vol. cit., p. 88-227; Cronicul lui Neculai Chiparissa [Neculai Chiparissa’s Chronicle],in vol. cit., p. 65-86.

22. I. D. ªtefãnescu, Iconografia artei bizantine ºi a picturii feudale româneºti [Iconographyof the Byzantine Art and of the Romanian Feudal Painting], Bucureºti, Editura Meridiane,1973; Ion Solcanu, Artã ºi societate româneascã: sec. XIV-XVIII [Romanian Art andSociety. 14th – 18th Centuries], Bucureºti, Editura Enciclopedicã, 2002.

23. Very useful were the methodological orientations of: François Billacois, Pour uneenquête sur la criminalité dans la France d’ancien regime [For an Investigation of Criminalityin the Old Regime France], In: “Annales. Économies, Sociétés, Civilisations” [“Annals.Economies. Societies. Civilisations”], yr. 22, N. 2, 1967, pp. 340-349. Peter Burke,Istorie ºi teorie socialã [Social History and Theory], transl. by Cosana Nicolae, Bucureºti,Humanitas, 1999; Alexandru Florin Platon, Societate ºi mentalitãþi în Europa medievalã.O introducere în antropologia istoricã [Society and Mentalities in Medieval Europe. AnIntroduction in Historical Anthropology], Iaºi, Editura Universitãþii “Al. I. Cuza”, 2000and idem, Imagologie, identitate ºi alteritate: repere istoriografice [Imagology, Identityand Alterity: Historiographic Landmarks], in vol. Etnie ºi confesiune în Moldova medievalã[Ethnical and Denominational Belonging in Medieval Moldavia], edited by Ion Toderaºcu,Iaºi, Editura Universitãþii “Alexandru Ioan Cuza”, 2006, pp. 13-25.

24. Alexandru Constantinescu, Dãrile în Þara Româneascã ºi Moldova (sec. XIV-XV) [Taxesin Walachia and Moldavia (14th – 15th Centuries)], in “Studii ºi articole de istorie”[“History Studies and Papers”], 1975, 23, pp. 110-118; N. Stoicescu, Regimul fis-cal al preoþilor din Þara Româneascã ºi Moldova pânã la Regulamentul organic (sec. XV-XIX) [Tax Regime of Priests in Walachia and Moldavia until the Organic Ruling(15th – 19th Century)], in BOR, 1971, 23, nos. 5-6, pp. 370-381; Matei D. Vlad,Le regime fiscal et administratif dans les villages de colonisation de Valachie et de Moldavieau XVIII siecle [Tax and Administrative Regime in the Villages of Colonisation of Walachiaand Moldavia in the 18th Century], in “Revue Roumaine d’Histoire” [“RomainaMagazine of History”], 1971, 10, no. 6, 1013-1026; I. Caproºu, O istorie a Moldovei


prin relaþiile de credit (pânã la mijlocul secolului al XVIII-lea) [A History of Moldaviafrom the Perspective of the Credit Relations (until the mid-18th Century)], Iaºi, 1989.

25. ªtefan Berechet, Dreptul vechilor noºtri ierarhi la judecarea mirenilor [The Right of OurOld Hierarchs to the Laics’ Judgement], Bucureºti, 1938; Gheorghe Cronþ, Clericiiîn serviciul justiþiei [Clergymen in the Service of Justice], Bucureºti, 1938; idem, Justiþiabisericeascã din Moldova ºi Þara Româneascã în secolele XIV-XVIII [Church Justice inthe 14th – 18th Centuries Moldavia and Walachia], in “Mitropolia Moldovei ºi Sucevei”[Moldavia and Suceava’s Metropolitan Church], 1975, 51, nos. 3-4, pp. 258-274;1976, 52, nos. 5-6, pp. 338-359

AbstractBetween the Memory of the Customary and the Code of Law. Crimes, Penalties and

Social Identities in Pre-Modern Moldavia (17th Century – First Half of the 18th

Century). Components of the Project and the Current Stage of the Research

Our research’s objective is the description and analysis of the criminal law practices (offencesand penalties) present in the 17th century – First Half of the 18th century Romanian society. Weare here in a period that precedes modernity, a period when the principle of equality to law had notyet been stated, justice being made according to the position that the defendants held in society.When we talk about categories of population and the manner in which criminal law justice wasenforced in their case, we should, first of all, identify the criteria according to which certain groupsforming the social structure are places in hierarchies and separated from each other. In our opin-ion, the denominational, social and ethnic criteria are determinant for the definition of the struc-ture of a population, and their listing in this order corresponds to the importance they have inthe groups’ hierarchy we have mentioned. Consequently, we intend to establish the way in whichhierarchies are constructed in Moldavia in the proposed period, examining the time sources. The historians’ perspective on the phenomenon of penalty in the medieval and pre-modern peri-od is little visible in this field literature. As it is known, a form of resistance of the Romanianhistoriography facing the necessity to comply with the communist ideology – that stressed thematerialist interpretations in the detriment of the empirical research – was erudition, whichfound in the political and cultural history of the 18th century a wide range of possibilities. Thesepreoccupations were accompanied by the publication of the critical editions of documents,chronicles and codes of laws. Given the context, the issues related to the criminal law did notfind a place among the historians’ preoccupations, as this was a prohibited theme, to be approachedonly by the judicial history specialists. We only have a few starts, substantiated in several papersreferring to the main fines in 15th-18th century Moldavia, to cases of capital punishment in the16th century, to medieval justice in general. After 1989, the cultural and intellectual opening towardsthe fertile approaches of history in the occidental cultural area, which came with new directionsof research, did not entail, in the case of Moldavia, a shift in the angle of analysis of the criminalphenomenon. Better represented from this standpoint (delinquency and/or criminality) is theWalachian historiography and the Transylvanian one.

Keywordsoffences, penalties, social identities, customary norms, code of law


THE YEAR 1883 can be considered as a model for several reasons that weare going to explain in the current article. The alliance treaty signed with theCentral Powers, the start of the coagulation of the united opposition, whichled eventually to the downfall of the I.C Bratianu government but also theinternational incident occurred by the unveiling in Iasi of the statue of Stephenthe Great, these examples emphasis the authenticity of the first statement. Weintend to analyze in the following rows the way in which a power, at the begin-ning of a long political and mediated siege, will succeed to organize the inau-guration of a statue, long awaited due to its symbolic background of the char-acter that it represents. To understand how was possible that an event preconceivedas a moment of solidarity transformed into a reason for new disputes on thepower-opposition front, we considered necessary a short glimpse on the inter-nal political atmosphere of the months that preceded the event.

Knowing that the state has in general the tendency to fabric celebrationsand to utilize certain symbols to justify its existence, the unveiling of the statueof Stephen the Great can be considered as an example for the way in which a soci-ety participates in public events, political in nature because it has a certain degreeof reoccurrence, and the authorities are always present. The mobilization fromthis year leads us to think at the fact that the government representatives in theregion, but also the ones from the center, believed that for a large segment ofthe population, the primary reason for the celebration was turning into anuninteresting one mainly because of the growing dispute between the liberals andthe conservative party (to this group latter on will join a fraction from the NationalLiberal Party). There is also at the same time an attempt coming from those whohad the power, as through the organization of these manifestations to build a

Reinventing Middle Age: the inauguration of the statue

of Stephen the Great (Iaºi, 1883)

LIVIU BRÃTESCU


new legitimacy to the electorate and to attract the sympathy indirectly of the his-torical personage, like Stephen the Great.

Appeared as a result of a proposition formulated by a former student of Gh.Asachi of the Royal Academy, during an graduation exam, in the form of triumpharc marking the celebration of Stephen1 victories, the statue of the Moldavian rulerknew in time an interesting evolution. The intention to mark in a grand waythe importance of Stephen the Great rule in Moldavia occurred in 1956. An oppo-nent of the Union and a supporter of the political movement, who had as its objec-tive the preservation of the Moldavian identity, Theodor Bals considered prolificthe reiteration of Stephen the Great’s memory in those times. Furthermore theMoldavian political leader believed that the former ruler deserved a public recog-nition for its battles fought for the survival of Moldavia’s autonomy2. Even iffor Bals, Stephen has constructed alone an edifice through his actions and deeds,the erection of a monument meant to glorify them, was seen as a debt of honorfor all of the Moldavian descendents, obliged to preserve his memory3.

The figure of Stephen the Great was stirring up new disputes in the years1870-1871. The reoccurrence of the idea of a statue in the honor of the for-mer Moldavian ruler was a delicate problem brought again in the public’s atten-tion. The most important aspect was the fact that the building of the monument,thought as a symbolic urn, which had to reunite all the areas occupied byRomanians, involved a considerable financial effort that needed a national pub-lic agreement4.

A new phase was starting with the year 1875, when the problem of a prop-er organization of such an event was put into question. In the situation inwhich the suzerain never hesitated to make references at Stephen’s place in the“national heroes” gallery (in 1878 was also the 12th anniversary of the rule ofStephen5 since its inception) it was becoming surprising the lack of a consis-tent financial support from the liberals, now in power, and also the appeal ofnational public economic gathering. Postponed because of the war, the com-mission’s activity, which requested to the townhouse of Iasi on the 19 September1877 a placement space for the statue, was again reformulated in the spring of1879, through a letter signed by Iacob Negruzzi, Stamatopulos and Nicu Gane.Gradually, the implication of the authorities was more and more serious, and fromthese the activities of the Municipal Committee of Iasi, the ministry of publicaffairs but also the Academy or the University. The first task of the newly formedcommission, in the summer of 1882, was to find a place in which the statuehad to be placed because the city hall of Iasi announced that the monumentwas already finished6.

A coordinated effort like the type that the liberal government had in mind andpublically stated was the rebirth of the memory of Stephen the Great. To whatextent was the mobilization was directed as a contribution to the growth of


the popularity of the liberal government and also the inclusion of the idea thatalthough contested, the liberals had the sympathy of the population confirmedby the overall activities planned for the days of 4, 5, and 6 June 1883.

For two weeks Iasi was symbolically, the capital of Romania at least if we havein mind the names and the number of personalities that were supposed to attendthe event. The presence of the local authorities at the inauguration of the stat-ue will have different bearings. First of all continuing a practice of the previousyears, in which the University’s teachers from Iasi (considered probably todayas image vectors) were called to different religious ceremony’s organized forthe anniversary of the suzerains, the representatives in the region of the gov-ernment send on the 5th of June, personal invitations to the didactic personal fromall the faculties to participate at the unveiling of the statue of Stephen. Despitethe fact that the invitations come repeatedly not only from the prefect’s office andform the mayor’s office, the rector being an intermediary of the official messages,the teachers were reclusive or even indifferent. Even so, the mayor asks for alist with all the teachers that were attending the commemoration, in order to givethem tickets7.

Despite all the reported difficulties, the academic sphere from Iasi desig-nates some representatives in order to give speeches, in which the accent was sup-posed to emphasis the place and the role of Stephen in the history of the coun-try. There were even stronger pressures on the people working in administrativearea and in the justice department: first they had to confirm the participationat the inauguration and then to acquire tickets to the “play” that was set forthe 5th of June. Furthermore they were required to specify if they are marriedor single, and if the response was positive an extra ticket for the spouse wassuggested. Among those who insisted on the acquisition of tickets was notonly the mayor8 or the prefect9 but also the president of the Iasi’s High Courtdeeply involved in the mobilization of the locals10. Mindful at all the aspectsconcerning the event the opposition’s newspapers were stressing out the contrastbetween the grand unveiling of the statue of Stephen and very difficult economicstate of the country. Newspapers like “the Social Pact” were pointing out the pos-sibility that the liberal objective was to be undermined by the comparisoninvoluntary between the dire economic situation of the country and the mem-orable past of “the greatest Rumanian that ever lived in Moldavia.” It becomesclear that the “hero which Europe called Christianity’s shield” was invoked todefine new political dimensions. With ease the journalists close to the conser-vative party move the image from the heroic Moldavia of Stefan to the liberalgovernment responsible for the loss of the south Bessarabia and the acceptanceof the 7th article of the Constitution, the ransoming of the iron road and for allthe problems related to the ascension of Austria in the Danube area. All ofthem were presented as evidence of the liberal incapacity to run the country


and their lack of patriotism11. In opposition’s newspaper strategy were present-ed discourses from the former co-workers of I.C Bratianu. The new adversaryof the government, Dimitrie Bratianu, was quoted in “Pact Social” from 4th

June 1883, for the comparison between the political and economic situation ofthe country during Stephen and the numerous contemporary difficulties to whomRomania had to answer.

Beyond the techniques used by the political adversaries to win the sympa-thy of the electorate, the opposition was right at least in some points and oneof them the implication of the central authorities in the planning of an event thatcould have been as well handled by the local administration. In the conditionsthat the problem with the allocation of certain founds was very delicate, main-ly caused by the low financial support from the government and the interfer-ence of Bucharest was irritating. The method in which this problem could havebeen resolved was that of a national collect12 backed in a truth and by foundsapproved by the government13 and the House of Deputies14 but also by thelocal authorities. Newspapers fond of the executive weren’t treating such sub-jects, covering the event with a strong propaganda in the form of many articlesdedicated to Stephen and also presenting the program of the event. First approvedby the government and then in its final form by Carol, this was a general descrip-tion on what was supposed to happen at Iasi from 4 to 6th of June. Duplicatedin hundreds of copies in order to be sent all of the country15, the scenario wasspread on the streets of Iasi and published in the newspapers close to the liber-als, where they appeared as publicity bought by the authorities thanks to the directintervention of the prefect16.

Arrived in Iasi, as planned with two days before the event, Carol bringswith him an impressive number of politicians and officers of the Rumanian army17.These men in front with the mayor receive him according to protocol at the plat-form of railway station in Iasi. Incriminated by the opposition the presence ofchildren18 from middle, general, commercial, technical school was a key com-ponent in the management of the moment. This being the first visit of Carol Ias king, the town’s elite, the magistrates, the teachers19 and the merchants, accom-panied by lawyers and civil and military personal present their greetings to thehead of state at the Royal Palace20.

In the second day, 4th of June, was kept not only the triumphal welcomingof the delegates from the country but also a historical conference held in thehall of the University by Al. Vizanti, while Nicolae Ionescu was appointed to talkin front of the statue, since the 22 of September 188221. For a festive momentas was wished for the invocation of Stephen’s memory it surprised the pres-ence of the local police22, justified only by the large number of people that weresupposed to attend and also by the diversity of the audience composed by stu-


dents and representatives from other regions. Wanting to provide a atmos-phere of popular celebration, in the evening are organized in the public gar-den, in city hall, but also in other places many concerts performed by the mili-tary fanfare23.

“The big day” started in a traditional fashion due to the prospects of a religioussociety with a service held at the Metropolitan church. Also natural was the par-ticipation of the local civil authorities at religious manifestations. The prefect triedin the past to organize various actions in which local teachers and the other citi-zens to show their appreciation to the dynasty. Almost not a single event in thelife of the royal family was ignored “14 march, 8 April (Carol birthday), 24th April(day of the queen), 10 may were occasions in which the teachers assisted at spe-cial religious ceremonies24. Not knowing how many teachers were attending tothese events we can’t jump to any conclusions. We only know that the rector ofthe University sent in their name letters of congratulations in such occasions25.The action from 10th of may was in a way announcing the one from the 5th of June.

Carefully planned, the scene in front of the statue was also o reason for dis-pute simply by its placement because representatives of the Parliaments, of theHigh Court of Cassation and of Accounts, of the regional councils as well ofthe army, Academy or University from Bucharest and Iasi was considered asign of value from the sovereign for one or the other. Without entering into muchdetail a brief description we believe to welcomed. In front of the statue was aroyal tent, with canopy of red velvet and with blue atlas curtains. Under the tent,the throne of Stephen, found at Vanatori, gave Carol the possibility to have a big-ger picture of what was happening in front of his eyes. At the right of the tent,in front of the tent was the tribune of the speakers. Around the monumentthere were strides a little lifted above the ground: first for the ladies, then forthe courts and tribunals, the academic circle, the students of the University, forthe communal and regional representatives, and the stride of the local councilof Iasi. In the back of the royal tent was placed the stride of the Parliament,and in front, in the back of the statue the one of the High Court of Cassation.The local personalities had reserved seats, between these strides and in theright and left of the statue, in front of the palace there were erected two largetribunes for the public26. Meant to glorify the deeds of the great Lord, the sculp-ture rise in front of the administrative palace, the former royal court of Moldavia,near the Sf. Neculai Domnesc church, build by Stephen the Great.

The same generous press presents us Iasi as a city filled with enthusiasm at theprospect of meeting the suzerain. “In Iasi a real rain of buckets of flowers andother decorations flowing at every window and balcony in the royal chariot. Inthe evening the town was illuminated”; “we salute the first visit of Carol asking of Romania, in the old capital of Moldavia” and as not to forget the Moldavians


contribution to the Union, directly it was remember to Carol the fact that Iasiwas “the cradle of the Union and of the great national ideas27”. Stipulated inthe official program the interventions were uttered, in order, by the king, NicuGane (the delegate of the statue’s commission), Leon Negruzzi (mayor of thetown), C.A Rosetti (Parliament), D.A Sturdza (Academy), Nicolae Ionescu (IasiUniversity) and B.P Hasdeu (the teacher’s delegate from Oltenia). Their com-mon points were the glorifications of Carol and Stephen and the emphasis of thehistorical realizations from both their times28.

After the military parade, the discourses that were held honor also the impor-tance of the action. The first one to address the crowd had to be obviously thesuzerain. We could also notice with this occasion at the Romanian monarch itsfull admiration for Stephen, but also remembering the deeds of Mihai Viteazul.Another constant in Carol’s interventions was the mentioning with every chancethe army’s contribution at the accomplishments of the former officials not onlyin festive moments. Full aware since its first days as suzerain about the Moldavian’sconcerns about the possibility of continuing the Cuza administrative model, theking tries through all of its actions and words to convince the locals that their townhas for him an equal symbolic value the same as Bucharest. The enforcement of thephrase “Iasi the second capital of the country” in the Romanian public discourseis due to Carol and the invocation of the natives from Iasi contributions to theUnion to serve its purpose to a tighter bond with the host town29.

Speaking in the name of the Committee that had as a burden the erectionof the statue, Nicolae Gane considered important to remind the vast numberof victories obtained by Stephen and also his great number churches built inMoldavia. As for the other speaker, it appears at Gane a parallel between theMoldavian Lord which contributed in his opinion in the creation of the Romanianstate and King Carol who succeeded in winning the independence that put thekeystone of the same state30. It was now reiterated a common practice the cor-respondence between Carol and Stephen or of the starting mission of Stephenand carried out by the fresh king31. Many local politicians reminded with everychance they got their contribution to the Union, Leon Negruzzi spoke in thename of the town, didn’t lose the opportunity to make a remark in that direc-tion. Showing with subtlety his discontent to the fact that Iasi was not thecapital of the kingdom, he expressed his hope that at least symbolic the town wasthe “cradle of union of Romanians in feelings, heart and fact.”

An important man of the moment, C.A Rosetti, was met at the railway sta-tion with much enthusiasm32, came to Iasi, in his quality as president of the Houseof Deputies. Thanks to its dignity, his speech in which he remarked the resonanceof Stephen’s name and Carol’s for the Romanian people, indifferent of the ter-ritory in which they lived, could have launch controversies or protests especial-


ly coming from Austria. The euphoric moment was created by the allusionsthat there were Romanians territories outside the borders from that momentof the kingdom was received without any special attention33. The volcanic pasop-tist could not forget in such a glorifying occasion of the past, the Latin originof the Romanians and their mission granted by Europe at the north of the Danube.

Without trying to stress a conclusion on these discourses we can observe acommon note is the symbolic affiliation between Stephen and Carol, but also thefact that in many cases of them, the attention is focused more on the suzerain34.“The academic corpus from Oltenia sent me here to show the intimate bondbetween Oltenia and Stephen… in 1457, after the death of Bogdan, Stephen ranin Muntenia, he was Moldavian on his father side and oltean by his mother-the performance of King Carol started to complete the one of the great Stephen”.After the end of the speeches, it began the march of the schools and the depo-sition of flower garlands in the sound of military music. And then it followed therepresentatives of the regions and communal with their flags, civic guards andother military regiments.

We can say that from this moment there were two spectacles. One organ-ized for the citizens of the town and the other for the high ranking guests. Thefirst acknowledged that their city was well illuminated, music played in thepublic gardens and in Copou, where it was installed an electric sun, the fireworkscould be seen from the plateau across the round from Copou. Eager to be inthe center of the population, Carol went the second day after the big manifes-tation on the plateau above mentioned where he delivered presents for targetshootings and where he received the army parade35. For the same public onthe night of the 7th of June, the dramatic society from Iasi participates also on thecelebrations that were taking place by organizing a big show during whichthere were read many poems dedicated to Stephen the Great36. The festivities con-tinued on the night of 5th of June, in a restricted circle, we could say, if we takeinto account the fact that there were many representatives local and from the ter-ritory. The meeting toke place in the hall of the National Theater where gavethe opportunity to different political leaders to give new speeches even more fiery.

The one that opened the meetings was also the king. His toast, shorter thansome expected, tried to stabilize first the importance of the whole manifesta-tion through the fact that it represented a new modality to emphasis the nation-al solidarity. Making abstraction to the unwillingness of the opposition to par-ticipate, the presence of different social classes from all the corners of the countrywas seen as a success for Carol and the mentioning of the phrase “my second cap-ital” was well received by an audience of 400 persons by some statistics37.

In the unexplained and unjustified absence of I.C Bratianu the one appoint-ed to represent the government was Gh. Chitu, the minister of Internal Affairs.


Different in his approach but also in that of Nicolae Voinov, the vice-presidentof the Chamber of Deputies was the fact that beside the transformation of Stephenin a saint “father of independence and of the Romanian greatness” the oneglorified more and more was Carol I and less Stephen the Great. We find withlittle effort, enough elements that will entitle us to say that they contributewith or without their wish, to the beginning of the personality cult of the kingCarol. “… The whole Romania understood your highness knowledge and throughthe elite and its leaders responded with enthusiasm to your suzerains appeal.Proud and happy of seeing the whereabouts of its beloved king, bringing hom-age of gratitude and admiration, to its biggest hero, to its most beloved Lordin times of glory and national independence38.” Beyond any other connota-tions of such interventions, the most popular moment was the speech of PetreGradisteanu, on which we will insist on the right moment, as well concerning itscontent and of its consequences.

From the picture of the festivities, it was present also the poems read in cer-tain occasions and widely published in newspapers close to the central power:“At the statue of Stephen”, “The reel of Stephen”, “Singing at the statue ofStephen” (anthem written by Vasile Alecsandri) are some of them. Surprisinglyis for us not the pathetic-emotional character of these poems but the fact thatdespite the existence of this festive moment, some of the authors try throughtheir descriptive methods of the adversaries of Stephen in such a way that the for-mer lord yet again prevails as the winner. “When the hoards of the semilune,the Hungarian haughty,/ lesi, Tatars and other gents across the country pillaged/,hurrying form Suceava and in its uncanny wrath,/ stormed over their gather-ings and beating them they dissipated”. Some of them represent actually thediscontent towards the contemporary politics considered as simple echoes ofthe interest coming from foreign powers. Along time ago, it is underlined, in acategorical manner that in the period when “Stephen ruled – the Romanians did-n’t bowed their heads to foreigners to venetics.”39 Some themes are reflectionsof the political speeches, and many of them the ones where is mentioned the wellknown and invoked contribution of Stephen in the protection of Christianityof the Western world were not forgotten40. Related in this perspective is the poem“At the statue of Stephen” signed by Ar. Densusianu41. The upheaval to superla-tive of the current events and their transformation in national epopees were madenot because of the political game but also to give the population the sensationthat something important was happening and that “something” was the suc-cess of the current power. The growing number of natural celebrations is usedby the political leaders in order to provide more opportunities to stand outand interpret more popular roles.

The satisfaction in participating to such a celebration was not the feeling dom-inating all the locals. The unsatisfied ones by what was happening in their


town originated obviously from the opposition. The reasons were many and theypassed from the lack of confidence in those who were in power, to the capacityof the government representatives to keep the legacy from the former lord42 tothe excessive implication of the central authorities in an action considered local.The high presence of law enforcement officers at the inauguration of the statuebut also the rumors that tried to discredit the opposition43 created the impressionthat solemnity didn’t serve the stability of I.C Bratianu44 power. Trying to com-pose a reaction to these accusations, the newspaper “The Liberal” from Iasi showedat 10th of June that all who didn’t want to participate showed its anger on thesymbol of Stephen the Great, even they foreseen a negative response of thepublic opinion to them45.

Concerned with details, I.C Bratianu government didn’t consider that afterthe unveiling of the statue the action was over. Declaring that the purpose ofthe event was the development of the national feeling and the memory of Stephen,the executive from Bucharest disposed the realization of an impressive numberof paintings with the image of Stephen and the whole ceremonial inaugura-tion, which were supposed to be sent through city halls at schools from everyregions of the country. In some cases the city halls request the government orfrom Iasi paintings like the ones described46. The number of paintings sent bythe Internal minister Chitu distributed at grade I schools was of 483, with thespecific note to be used also in other national celebrations47. Even if many ofthe accusations coming from the conservative party was respecting the normaltone of the anger towards the central power, an evidence of the hardship in whichIasi was in during this period comes from I.C Bratianu. At the end of the activ-ities organized in Iasi, he thanks for its involvement the prefect of Iasi, DimitriePruncu, to whom sends the sum of 5.000 lei, destined accordingly to King Caroldisposition to be handed out to the poor48. The discussions between the town-house and the prefect’s office from Iasi treated the allocation of different expen-sive generated by the organization of the event, also being evidence of the exis-tent economic difficulties at that time49. If the event in question had a certainhistorical attention, this was not only due to the fact that it was about the inau-guration of a statue of the greatest Lord of Moldavia but mainly because ofthe intervention on the night of the 5th of June of Senator Petre Gradisteanu.On some of the particularities of his speech held in the hall of the National Theaterfrom Iasi we shall refer on the next rows. In the already specified atmospherethe discourse of the senator was to become, in short time, a new subject of thepower-opposition battle. While those close to PNL tried to diminish his refer-ences to Romanian territories in the composition of other states, the adver-saries of the government insisted on the international complications that wereabout to occur as a result of the words of Gradisteanu. Member of PNL since thecoalition from Mazar Pasa, he proved to be during his entire political career, a


temperamental leader which as other political leaders went from political groupsto others and so on50. He held a speech at a banquet organized by the townhall of Iasi, in National Theater’s hall, in front of 420 quests from around thecountry, which provoked many controversies. The words of the liberal senator,pronounced in a assembly outside the program, carried out a lot a weight andbecause of its important position in the Romanian Senate, a little time ago.

In the specified note of also the other interventions, Gradisteanu noted on thebeginning of its speech, a real laudation to the suzerain. The liberal Parliamentseem to consider grand that in the “glorious city of Stephen” came citizensfrom all the corners of the country and the explanation came from the power-ful bond between the Romanians and its monarch51. The distinction from itsante speakers, Petre Gradisteanu reminds in its related notification on the greatabsences from Iasi, the queen and the prime minister, which symbolically dedi-cated a glass of wine. What caused the dissatisfaction of the Austrian diplo-mats and provide political weapons to the opposition was the suggestive refer-ence to Banat, Bucovina, and Transylvania or to Bessarabia. His statement tokea serious political weight when he at the end addressed the king and tried to shakehis hand in front of such a large audience. From that moment there were manyinterpretations and denying certain facts. Meanwhile the liberal senator triedthrough a letter addressed to “Romania libera” to clarify the text which appearedin many newspapers52, the government insisting on its presence at the banquetas an unofficial member of the state, fact enforced by not publishing the state-ment in “Monitorul official”. But the deed could not be undone the text was pub-lished in “L’Independence Roumaine” where the author specified also the namesof the three provinces adding also Bessarabia53. The first effect of this unpleas-ant situation was the expulsion of the owner of the newspaper Emile Gali.

Through Gradisteanu speech the celebration from Iasi caught the eye of theforeign press. Mindful at the events taking place in Romania, the western news-papers describe with many details the political atmosphere from the countryand the speeches that are held at the inauguration of Stephen statue and alsothe relations between Carol and the Romanian political class54. The frequentremembering of the former battles won by Stephen against Hungary, Poland andthe Turks wasn’t left unnoticed indifferent to whom it belonged55. Withoutrenouncing the defense of its interests the Romanian government searched fornew methods of showing their future allies on the lack of connection between itsforeign political intentions and some individual political actions like the onesof the liberal senator mentioned above. This direction was enforced by notpublishing in the “Official Monitor” of the intervention of the senator andafter pressures from the Austrian government through an official denial publishedon the 19th in the Monitor56.


We can say without reaching any conclusions that what happened in 1883 atIasi doesn’t represent an isolated case, but it respects a certain pattern. The eventsfrom year that we mentioned in the rows above can be understood if we takeinto consideration some aspects. First of all the Romanian society found in a fullprocess of modernization which had in permanence the tendency to look in thepast. If those who had the power invoked mythical characters like Stephen, to obtaina circumstance victory, the other’s invocation on the same hero or the sake of anantitheses with the contemporary political leaders. As a component of the politi-cal strategy, the reference to a golden past was frequently used in different ways.If the national-liberals (as the followers of Bratianu were called) remind the glo-rious times of Stephen to show their bearings in the political field and for theiractions, the opposition was preoccupied by invoking the same period to showthe decadence of the contemporary époque of whom the liberals were responsi-ble. The year 1883 came after two important actions in which the liberals partic-ipated as the political governmental group (the winning of the independenceand the proclamation of the kingdom) and that was their primary cards in theirpolitical battles. The unexpressed dissatisfaction of the conservative party was deter-mined by the fact that they weren’t invited to participate in the decision makingprocess concerning the ceremony of Stephen’s statue inauguration. The oppositionknew very well that in the context of a strong contestation, the group that hadthe power made all the rules of the game in such a manner that all the material prof-its and of image belonged to them, accomplishing thus a new legitimacy57. Stronglyattacked beginning with 1883, even by former liberal co-workers as D. Bratianu,liberals around I.C Bratianu sensed that the maintenance at power can be madeonly by organizing and winning elections. To obtain credibility it was needed adiversification of the forms and legitimacy mechanisms58. Beside the speechesthey were asked notable accomplishments just like those from 1866, 1877 or 1881.The inauguration of the statue, long waited by the natives from Iasi and notonly, was an effective occasion to use in their own advantage an ancient symbolin a new ceremonial frame. For the liberals but also for Carol the inauguration ofthe statue was the perfect method to express their leader status. This was madeby evoking a common hero important to a group (Moldavians) and even for anentire society, stirring sentiments of cohesion and popular support for those organ-izing the event. The measure in which this strategy gave the results preconceivedby the liberals had to be seen in the next years. If we take into consideration therapid growth of contestations to believe that the “plan” didn’t work.

We could not finish without making a few considerations on the other polit-ical factor involved in the action unfolded at Iasi, in 5th of June 1883, Carol I.The same as the governmental staff, he knew that in a society in which theinformation circulation was not quite as good through the intermediation of


the press, the safety feeling of the population could have been enhanced in theconditions of putting into place some grand historic and political symbols asStephen the Great59.

The monarch knew from the beginning of its mandate that in order to befollowed by the people, he needed to have direct link with them, to create at leastthe impression that they could obtain what they wanted. Furthermore placinghimself as a continuity of Stephen, not only his, he had the possibility to gen-erate strong emotional reactions in the population60, which the presses madeus understand that happened. Carol I had to face now its political opponents thatdidn’t believe in the liberal capacity to efficiently run the country, but withleaders that he understood to represent perfectly the external political image ofRomania. To block the flow of accusations brought to I.C Bratianu, the monarchcould not lose the opportunity to present himself as a good leader capable of han-dling any economic difficulties, thanks to a well placed strategy. In the conditionsrelated to the control of Austria of the Danube river, Carol’s speech in the hallof the National Theater, where he evoked the personality of Stephen and itsbattles, contributing thus to a identification with him, and also assuming acommitment for the future.

Beyond the objectives of every actor involved, the inaugurations from 5thof June 1883 lead us to think to a type-situation, in which the political poweruses a moment to build a common memory61. Through Stephen’s statue, erect-ed in a delicate moment, tradition could demonstrate its constructive force andthe revived past appeared as a mixture which we found nostalgia, frustrationand satisfaction62.

�

Notes

1. Nicolae Grigoraº, Statuia lui Stefan cel Mare de la Iasi, in „Cercetari istorice“,1972, new series (III), p. 282.

2. Ibidem, p. 283. 3. Ibidem.4. Virgiliu Z. Teodorescu, Simboluri de for public dedicate cinstirii lui ªtefan cel Mare,

în „Revista arhivelor“, iulie, august, septembrie, nr. 3, 1993, p. 282.5. Carol I, Cuvântãri ºi scrisori, tom II, p. 210; apud Vasile Docea, Carol I ºi monarhia

constituþionalã. Interpretãri istorice, Timiºoara, Editura Presa Universitarã Românã,2001, p. 118.

6. Nicolae Grigoraº, op. cit., p. 290.7. Arhivele Naþionale Iaºi (ANI), fond „Rectorat“, 1883, 22 mai, fila 21, 24 mai, fila

22, 25 mai, fila 23.Idem, fila 25.


8. ANI, fond „Prefecturã“, dosar nr. 96, 1883, 30 mai, fila 6.9. He sent more letters with this porpoise towards the President of the Court of Appeal,

to the general prosecutor and to the first prosecutor in ANI, idem, 30 mai, file 5.10. Idem, fila 42.11. Pactul social, 4th of June 1883, p. 1.12. The sum of 135.000 lei, the cost of the statue, obtained through a national collec-

tion. At 20 may 1883, Municipal Committee of Iaºi announced the day of 5thJune for the grand unveiling of the statue of Stephen the Great as part of a nation-al ceremony (Nicolae Grigoraº, op. cit., p. 301).

13. At 3th June the Municipal Council approved unanimously a fond of 27.038 lei forexpenses of the inauguration.

But because it was decided the national character of the ceremony, the MunicipalCouncil asked the minister of Interne to request to the Deputies Assembly for theapproval of a special found and to give back to the City Hall the sum (the govern-ment approves only the sum of ll10.000 lei, the same sum was at the disposal ofthe City Hall of Iasi). See ibidem, p. 302.

14. ANI, fond „Prefectura“, dosar nr. 96, 1883, 28 aprilie, fila 8.15. The internal minister talks about 600 copies (Idem, 1 June, file 33).16. The prefect asks the functionaries under him to send to the editor chief of the “Liberal”

the ad (page1) with the program of the manifestation. Also him claims to be informedabout the cost of putting into place his dispositions. in idem, file 10.

17. „Românul“, 3 June, 1883, p. 491.18. In circular of the government it is recommended the participation of all the pupils

from schools (ANI, fond „Prefectura“, dosar 96, 1883, 8 may, files 19, 20).19. On the 2 of June 1883, the rector asks the teachers of the University from Iasi to

go with him to salute the head of state. See ANI, fond „Rectorat“, dosar 483, 1882-1883, files 3, 4.

20. Idem, file 1.21. The minister of Cults and Public Instructions asked the rector, a long time before,

to see will participate at the ceremony, and to appoint those who were to held speech-es at the inauguration of the statue, and also at the University (Idem, 28 mai, fila26). Despite the organized effort made by the rector, his colleagues don’t respondto his appeal proposed on the 4th of June only in a small amount the papers beingsigned only by 20 of 42 teachers (Idem, 4 June, file 30).

22. The government asked the prefect of Iasi to assure the presence of four police sergeants’at the conference that was supposed to be held at the University. (Idem, file 32).

23. Idem, 2 June, file 2. 24. Idem, 12 March, file 11, 6 April, file 12, 22 April, file 15. 25. Idem, 24 April, file 16. 26. „Curierul“, 5 June, 1883, year XI, nr. 62, p. 2; ANI, fond „Rectorat“, dosar 483,

1882-1883, 5 June, fila 4.27. „Curierul“, 5 iunie 1883, anul XI, nr. 62, p. 1.28. Ibidem.29. „Curierul“, 9 June, 1883, p. 2.


30. N. A. Bogdan, Regele Carol I ºi a doua sa capitalã, f.l. f.a., p. 287.31. „It cannot be but for us the Rumanians a more beautiful day like this, in which we

can see our past interconnecting with the future and which lifts up our faith thatunder the rule of His Majesty the king of Romania will go on further and furtheron the path of prosperity that is now opened“, in Ibidem.

32. „Curierul“, 9 June, 1883, p. 2.33. N. A. Bogdan, op. cit., p. 290-291.34. „Curierul“, 12 June, 1883, year XI, nr. 65, p. 2.35. N. A. Bogdan, op. cit., p. 309.36. „Curierul“, year XI, nr. 61, 4 June, 1883, p. 2.37. Idem, year XI, nr. 63, 9 June, 1883, p. 2. 38. The toast of N. Voinov, vice-president of the Chamber of Deputies, „people and king

toke their vows, sacred vow that today all of the sacrifices made for country and onlyfor country, the glory obtained on the battlefield of Bulgaria under the leadershipof his Majesty made us to look straight at the statue of Stephen the Great and seethe glorious past“ (Ibidem).

39. „Curierul“, 5 June, 1883, p. 2.40. An example in this direction is „Ode at the statue of Stephen the Great“, by Vasile

Alecsandri, in „Curierul“, 9 June, 1883, year XI, nr. 63, p. 1.41. „But your pure heart (Moldova) of burning longings \ A long time ago was stolen

by a young beautiful lad\ and a lad with eyes to search the sun \ But not in his grand-ness but in his shinny face („Curierul“, 5 June, 1883, year XI, nr. 62 , p. 2).

42. „Pactul social“, 8 June, 1883, p. 2.43. Idem, 5 June, 1883, p. 4.44. Idem, 8 June, 1883, p. 245. Nicolae Bogdan, op. cit., p. 311.46. ANI, fond „Prefectura“, dosar nr. 96, 1883, 23 iulie, fila 54.. The prefect of the region

of Prahova announces his counterpart from Iasi of the receiving of the painting withthe scene of Stephen’s statue (Ibidem, 5 august, file 58).

47. Ibidem, file 39.48. “Curierul“, year XI, nr. 65, 12 June, 1883, p. 2.49. Idem, 9 June, p. 3.50. Petre Grãdiºteanu was one of the most active members of the liberal group in the peri-

od of 1877-1890, participating at the forming of the coalition of Mazar Paºa, pres-ent in numerous political arrangements of the time (Apostol Stan, Putere politica ºidemocraþie în România 1859-1918, Bucureºti, Editura Albatros, 1995, p. 165).

51. „Curierul“, 9 June, 1883, p. 3.52. „Sire, many are missing from this table and who wanted to be here, they love you

sire and so do all of us, for they see in Your Majesty not the king of Romania butthe king of the Romanians. And with their help your Majesty will conquer, theprecious stones that miss form the crown of Stephen the Great“, in C. Bacalbaºa,Bucureºtii de altãdatã, vol. I, Bucureºti, Editura Eminescu, 1987, vol. I, p. 162.

53. This testimonial appears in the same newspaper from the correspondent who describedthe event, in the number of 28th of June of the magazine („Curierul“, nr. 1730, p. 1).


54. The German gazette „Nordeutsche Allgemeine Zeitung“ publishes, at 27th ofJune, a description of the action from Iasi. The Germans foresaw in the actionfrom 5th of June a manifestation of adulation to the suzerain and to the dynasty(„Românul“, 22 June, 1883, p. 553).

55. Ibidem.56. These words, in part exaggerated, in other incorrectly reproduced, were pronounced

by surprise by a person that didn’t have a official role at the ceremony. The gov-ernment could only disagree in a dynamic way and the official path this kind of man-ifestations and tendencies from wherever they might come“ („Monitorul Oficial“,19 June, 1883, p. 1247).

57. C. Sãlãvãstru, Discursul puterii, Iaºi, Institutul European, 1999, p. 39.58. Ibidem, p. 43.59. Murray Edelman, Politica ºi utilizarea simbolurilor, Iaºi, Polirom, 1999, p. 43.60. Ibidem, p. 75. 61. Ibidem, p. 184.62. Ibidem, p. 186.

AbstractReinventing the Middle Age:

the Inauguration of the Statue of Stephen the Great (Iaºi 1883)

The year 1883 can be considered as a model for several reasons that we are going to explain inthe current article. The alliance treaty signed with the Central Powers, the start of the coagula-tion of the united opposition, which led eventually to the downfall of the I.C Bratianu governmentbut also the international incident occurred by the unveiling in Iasi of the statue of Stephen theGreat, these examples emphasis the authenticity of the first statement.We intend to analyze in the following rows the way in which a power, at the beginning of along political and mediated siege, will succeed to organize the inauguration of a statue, long await-ed due to its symbolic background of the character that it represents. To understand how waspossible that an event preconceived as a moment of solidarity transformed into a reason for newdisputes on the power-opposition front, we considered necessary a short glimpse on the internalpolitical atmosphere of the months that preceded the event.Beyond the objectives of every actor involved, the inaugurations from 5th of June 1883 lead usto think to a type-situation, in which the political power uses a moment to build a commonmemory. Through Stephen’s statue, erected in a delicate moment, tradition could demonstrateits constructive force and the revived past appeared as a mixture which we found nostalgia, frus-tration and satisfaction.

Keywordsinauguration, statue, controversies, ceremony, collective memory


„The cult of the great, defunct people is an expression of periods

lacking great personalities” (C. Banu)1.

1. Death of an all-powerful political leader and the funeral „discourses”2

I N NOVEMBER 1927, the swift death of Ion I. Brãtianu, leader of NationalLiberal Party and head of government, brought about a new „era” in theRomanian political evolution, as suggested by Nicolae Iorga3. This perception

was not at all isolated in the period, many other political leaders of the time,detractors, neutral observers or adulators of the great deceasead leader notingthat the „revolution” that defined that moment, including the raw connotationof the term, the pararellism with a natural, cosmical phenomenon prevailingsometimes over the political or social change of perception4. Most of the politicalactors soon realized that everything was going to change after the demise ofthe „invincible man”, as Ionel Brãtianu appeared to his contemporaries5. Thesense of breach was emphasized not only by the unexpected death but also becauseit appeared in a period when the liberal power over the state appeared to beeverlasting.

1.1. The opposition’s discourse and the mythical status bestowed upon IonI. C. Brãtianu. In the dramatic context of the death of their adversary, the attitudesexhibited by the opposition politicians were constrained within the minimal

The Cult of Brãtianus Between the Two World Wars in Romania

Actors, characters, means and forms of expression

OVIDIU BURUIANÃ


politeness, with terms used such as „misfortune for the country”, „terribleblow for Romania”. Absorbed by the new situation and breaking with the recentpast, no prominent opposition leader joined the funeral procession6. The deathof Ionel Brãtianu offered a necessary simplification of the political scene, atleast in their vision. The dissapereance of an indubitable figure of authority7 clearedthe future of the power. One step towards conferring a mythical status to thedefunct leader is to be noted in the representations of the opposition, anotherone is easily visible in the liberal discourse of the time. An avalache of depreciatoryelements followed (“The Vizier”, “Wallachian Sultan”, „The Master”, “Ioan vodãthe Terrible”, “the feared uncrowned ruler of the country, obssesed with apagan will to rule”, „representing a „godly dynasty”8), but the heroic character,even in its negative version, exceeded the man. In the contrasting space of interactionbetween the real character with the political imaginary of the opposition, the wayin which the power is configurated and the personality of Ion I. C. Brãtianuacquired gigantic proportions, explaining both the weakness of the oppositionas well as the weakness of those in power.

1.2. The liberal approach to “canonization”. Another space of reflection onIon I. C. Brãtianu’s posterity, is underlined by the liberal discourse. „The officialcountry is roaring and break its hands”, observed Gala Galaction9. The term„official country” is not only a figure of speech. Despite the worries, despitethe homages to a „grandly political work”10, a feeling of restraint was unanimousin the society towards the death of a politician unapproachable to the othersbecause of his public actions and whose political gestures often triggered populardiscontent (holding Romania’s neutrality for two years during the First WorldWar, the authoritarian style of ruling Romania, the lack of a real dialogue orfor charismatic gestures towards the masses). The pain inflicted by his death indifferent strata of the society was merely rational and not sentimental. Respected,but never loved, seems to be the conclusion drawn by I. G. Duca11.

In contrast with the public indifference, the liberal’s solidarity was exemplary.The most coherent discoursive form of presenting the personality of the defunctleader, along with the liberal media, was a special („festive”) issue of the circleof liberal studies, Democraþia, dedicated entirely to the emblematic figure of IonelBrãtianu12. The Center’s message was then distributed to a multitude of liberalpublications, as a form of diffusion in different social and intellectual strata13. Forthe liberals who were deeply affected by his death, the statuary figure of IonelBrãtianu collected a huge amount of superlatives: „the greatest and the bestRomanian”, „the foremost citizen of the reunited state”, „a giant of our publiclife”, „the most beloved son of the country”, „the brilliant political man andthe greatest patriot”, „the personification of Romania’s political genius”, „our


Wise and Great Ruler”, etc. His life began to illustrate a period of grace: “everythingthat was good and firm on our soil was made during his time”14, and his deathcame to symbolize an essential loss of the whole nation. Despite a multitude ofopinions, the symbolical relations around his figure can be detected on two mainlevels. Firstly, the one that identifies Brãtianu with national interests, Romaniabeing „shaken from its foundation”, as a liberal journalist from Iaºi wrote inthe tension of the moment, taking into account that the „hope of the nation reliedin his energy, abilities, in his unquestioned authority both in the country aswell as abroad”15. The second, broader, discoursive scale, implied the superpositionof the former leader with the image of the party, the conjunction of these tworepresentations being implicit.

From a broader perspective, without any regard to contingency or hiscontemporaries perception and judged from the historical point of view, IonelBrãtianu’s carefully constructed image by the liberals engulfed numerous symbollicalinstitutions for the Romanians mental colective, especially the monarchy. The„great kings and the great advisers”, a tetrarchy including Carol the First and IonC. Brãtianu, together with Ferdinand and Ionel Brãtianu, were a substitute formodern Romania, the analogy representing also an exclusion device of the othersfrom this historical effort. „The Maker of yesterday’s Romania” (Ion C. Brãtianu)was approached to the founding hero of „today’s Romania”. Another subtlechange was operated regarding the relation of the symbol of power in the Romanianhistory (reign), initially on the defensive of the european civilization, Ion I. C.Brãtianu being seen as „a dam of national resistance, the strong point of Europe’ssafety”16. Subsequently, in the light of later Legion’s texts, Ionel Brãtianu wasrepresented as Ioan Brãtianu (my note, O.B), „the one that can do whateverhe wants: the one who could lead you either to death or to victory”17. Ioan ismuch more than a simple mutation / linguistical error, respectively the funeraldiscourse that offers a different vision on the symbolic position held in theRomanian society by the great defunct leader. The providential man representsa religious reading of Ion I. C. Brãtianu’s personality, as a figure of voivode adaptedto the modern times.

The symbolic construct of Ionel Brãtianu was an expression of a secularreligiosity, with its own system of sacred words and gestures, in which the individualfinds its identity and simultaneously, through ritual, was participating to thepower. This was an unprecedented measure, experienced in the Romanian publicspace by the liberals in November 1927, because of its scope and multitude ofthe forms of expression (periodical publicists and rumors, conferences, ritualicmanifestations, commemorative foundations, such as Aºezãmintele culturale IonC. Brãtianu, respectively Ion I. C. Brãtianu, Biblioteca Ion I. C. Brãtianu, recordingof memorable words of Ionel Brãtianu on gramophone discs, filming and


presentations of the funeral in the news), and was the result of a competitionof the discourses and images that centers on the great defunct, in which thedetractors and apologists took part, the stake being political and cultural in thesame time. In the same time, it underlines the sources of power inside theparty, as well as the political culture of the Romanian liberals. An „icon of thewhole nation”, the former leader underlined the positioning towards the past,viewed as a primordial source of the liberal legitimacy in the present and revelationfor the future generations.

2. Methodological options. Sources for the present approach

D ESCRIBING THE way in which the liberals reacted to their leader’s demiseand the political and cultural significance attributed to this event is whatI’m interested in as a structure of analyzing the reality from beyond

the discourse. The use of words is never innocent and engages, in this case, atleast, a long discussion on the dominant policies of the Romanian liberals. Basedon the analysis of the official literature of the party (mainly the newspaper Viitoruland the theoretical magazine of the liberal studies circles, Democraþia), and thememoirs of the main public actors of the time, such as Nicolae Iorga, ConstantinArgetoianu, Pamfil ªeicaru, Stelian Popescu, Gala Galaction, etc. or on archivedocuments from Central National Historical Archives, this text proposes anapproach on the forms of expression that have as central focus Ion I. C. Brãtianu,but also a discussion of the multiple means used or the stakes that the liberaldiscourse holds in the period connected with the Brãtianus cult; it is not ananthropological study, in the sense that I will not referr to the rite, rituals anddiscourses that maintain the „litany” of the evocation; I will signal, from a politicalsociological point of view, the mechanisms of Brãtianus cult, its actors, its majorthemes and try to understand their positioning within the liberal decisions andconvictions18.

The assertion that the existence of a personality cult around the liberal leadermust be fitted into the general tendency of the time – the leader was a properanswer to the democratical anarchy after 1918. A vocation for adulation is a realitywith european characteristics, although the names are not equivalent with theposition – the cult surrounding Istvan Bethlen and Miklos Horthy in Hungary,Thomas Masaryk in Czechoslovakia, kings Alexander of Yugoslavia or Boris ofBulgaria. D. Gusti set the stage, under the patronage of Social Romanian Institute,for the fundamental debate, between the two world wars, on the evolution of thepolitical ideas, published afterwards as The doctrines of political parties, stating that


there is an unstoppable need of the individual to be ruled, „to fanatically believein someone”. The comfortableness of human spirit, the fear of responsability,inertia, the „volunteer servitude, meekly submission” explain, in Gusti’s opinion,the privilege of the leaders to be surrounded by „the atmosphere of an enthusiasticquasiamorous submission”, to become the „object of a lyrical pathos”19. Thelegionar cult of the Captain, the royal one made official during the reign of CarolII or the myth of the Commander from the totalitarian regimes, of Ion Antonescuand later Nicolae Ceauºescu, have embodied, in the Romanian space, the theoriesof providential men, rulers and social saviors.

3. Brãtianus cult. Forms and strategies of legitimacy

3.1. Ionel Brãtianu’s cult. Beyond the funeral aspect, connected to thedissapearence of the leader that refounded the National Liberal Party, there is adimmension of the discourse that presents a certain continuity caused by thecentral place already held by Ionel Brãtianu’s image in the liberal propaganda.The official actions after 1918, regarding the power aspirations and promotingthe inextricable bond between the historical national development and that ofthe National Liberal Party, were doubled by the obvious role held by Ion I. C.Brãtianu in the process of bringing to life the United Romania. Eventually thetwo dimensions melted into one – the image of the leader, symbol of the partyand country. President of the Chamber in 1927-1928, the liberal leader N. N.Sãveanu stated that „Brãtianu is still an overwhelming personality, his name linkedto so many important events lived by our country, that, without waiting thejudgement of history, we have to recognize, even from now on, the enormousservices brought by him for the country”20.

Ion I. C. Brãtianu’s cult was also appropiated by the liberals from the newareas of the Reunited Romania as an image to guarantee their legitimacy andsocial recognition. The image of the providential man, „the greatest man ofthe state”, „the genius of the nation that was always on the look-out for thenew nation, the soul ruler of the country”, obvius from the party press or thebrochures or even from the songs (light poems) dedicated to him21 took, sometimes,religious and popular aspects. Through a commomn process to all heroes, theleader stepped down from the dais and became a common, ordinary man, the„brother” of simple people: he would pay his train ticket like any other person,wore a peasant bag woven by his beloved mother; he was a hard-working manat Florica, getting up at 4, making friendly small talk with his servants, attendingthe cattle he knew by name, feeding the birds..., then, at his working desk preparing


the plans for his country’s happiness. Transylvania had always been close to hisheart – the small church of Horia from Albac that was moved to Florica playinga central role in this symbollic construct22.

Ionel Brãtianu’s excellency myth was carefully constructed even when hewas still alive; the myth was made official from political reasons when he died,because of a turbulent period in which political legitimacy was difficult to obtainsince the party was in opposition and also as a result of the awareness towardshis role in the structuring of the party as an organization, as a way to exist inthe public space.

In the following years two main discourses were structurally promoted whenvis-a-vis the image of Ionel Brãtianu, to emphasize its symbollic value for thecountry.

a. a more central one, illustrated by the actions made by the party leadersand his family and in the actions promoted by the Aºezãmintele Ion I. C. Brãtianu,the focal role in this evocation opus being played by I. G. Duca. As the liberalor pro-liberal press (especially Universul) and the magazine for liberal studiesproposed special issues to commemorate his memory with its different facets (hisactivity during the war, at the Peace Conferences, his visits in Transylvania,etc.) in November every year after his death conferences, studies23, brochures24,were published along with memorial services; it was a clever orchestrated partyprogram aimed at underlining the role he held in the liberal public imaginary butalso in development of liberal identity and solidarity25; it is a clear indication thatthis form of apologetical approach was practiced not only towards the exterior,towards the masses, but also towards the interior, in order to define a liberalself image. A social group is brought together by a common denominator, bya certain number of values and affinities, by a certain social experience, by anidentity criterion. According to David Kertzer, ritual is invaluable in obtainingpolitical solidarity, even in the absence of a consensus; it is an important mediumof influencing ideas that people have about political events, political strategies,political systems and political leaders; through ritual, people have an idea aboutwhat they consider an adequate political institution, about what the ideal qualitiesa political leader should possess, etc.

Understanding the political medium is mediated by symbolls and the ritual,as strong form of symbollic representation, it is an important mean in constructinga political reality26.

Honouring the memory of the former leader is attached to a logical powerplay inside the party. The commemorative conference held by I.G. Duca aboutIonel Brãtianu, in January 1931, at the opening of „Ion I. C. Brãtianu” Library,within Brãtianu Foundation, reflected the personal experience of one who wasa close collaborator of the Brãtianius (Ion I. C. Brãtianu and Vintilã Brãtianu),suggesting a feeling of continuity and legitimacy of the power27.


b. there was another way of honouring him, a private cult that was publicallyshared by the party’s members. For the local party members, the memory of IonelBrãtianu represented, among other things, a competition for recognition, whichled, in time, to a kind of fetish aorund his name and made impossible any attemptof objectivity28.

A volume paying homage to the memory of Ionel Brãtianu never materialized,despite several attempts made after his death; also, no projects for erecting a statue(unlike the case of his father, with monuments in many cities of the Old Kingdom)that could visually share the greatness of the political leader are known29.Nonetheless, the broad canvas of publications, articles, manifestations aboutmutliplied the figure of the great leader in different parts of Romania and thediverse political and cultural attitudes suggested a sacred presence. Finally, throughsecular ritual Ion I. C. Brãtianu as a”founder of the country” was omnipresent.

The existence of a cult of Ionel Brãtianu can be seen as justified if one takesinto account the greatness of the above mentioned leader, the liberal partyitself and the context of political life after the First World War and also thepersonalization of political elements. Through augmentation of the liberalmetonymical discourse, after Ionel Brãtianu’s death, I would like to propose somequestions regarding the reality beyond the language, on what the people say„within” the discourse. Some obviuos responses offered by the discourses after1927 point to the conclusion that there was, inside the liberal party, a weak senseof legitimacy towards the use of power. The image of the defunct leader onlyoffered strong cohesion elements along with a sense of political precariousness.After Ion I. C. Brãtianu’s death, National Liberal Party lost, as Pamfil ªeicarustates, „that interior safety that gave it the courage to not paiy attention to thepublic opinion”30.

Ionel Brãtianu’s unexpected death led to a loss of power inside the party:this is the crucial thing that the liberals understood after November 1927 andmade them rally around the legitimacy „giver” that was their leader. This is anotherelement that explains the evolution and growing of the cult – a contorted relationbetween the memory of the leader and the nostalgia for the lost power. If inthe aftermath of the death, the halo effect was present (the great presence ofthe defunct in everybody’s memory), in the following years, oppositon years (thethirties), the memory tramsformed into a different power practice. The liberalswere the „memory guardians”, reacting strongly to any kind of lesser appreciationof his role in building the Great Romania and they opposed fiercely to discussany historical approach towards the leader which was not seen as sacred31.

After June 1930 Restauration, the cult of Ionel Brãtianu became more away to reconfigure liberal solidarity and meeting place for the party – it actedas an instrument to measure the unity and the popularity of the liberal party,decreased in the first part of the fourth decade. The situation changed since


the end of 1933, when there was an affluence of new members, called maliciouslyby general Radu Rosetti, a close friend of the family, „hunters of situation andseats”32. Remembering Ionel Brãtianu remained, beyond the fascination towardsone of the greatest political figures in Romanian era, a way of keeping a clearidentity in the context of Carol II monarchy.

3.2. Brãtianu’s family cult. Brãtianism as political system. Ion Petrovici, Ministerof Public Affairs, delegate of the Averescu government to the centennial of IonC. Brãtianu’s birthday, celebrated with pomp by the liberals at the twenty first ofMay 1921, recounts the event in his Memories in terms of operette buffe. Alllocal liberal delegations had send delegations made out of 3-4 members, withfood packages from home for the luncheon that was to follow in the Floricapark. He arrived with the ministerial train and he was greeted by Vintilã Brãtianuand by Brãtianus nephew, the poet Ion Pillat; the dignitary was informed „almostin whisper”, as he remembered that he was to have dinner with Ionel Brãtianu.As he was baffled, Ion Pillat explained the „mysterious” phrase. The celebrationwas to be multicentrical, as well as the banquet after the memorial service itself, thethree distinct tables suggested the integration everyone attending, holding specificdifference. The first table took place, with everyone’s food, on the grass from themansion’s park, as a popular festivity open for everyone, the second one, consistingof a cold buffet, took place on the terrace of the house from Florica, with leadersof the party attending, the hosts being Vintilã ºi Dinu Brãtianu; finally, in thelast cercle, the private dinner (The Holy of the Holliest), presided by Ionel andhis wife, where high-ranking guests were greeted (bishops, government representative,delegates from the liberal part), from the liberal leaders only Mihail Pherekide, aclose collaborator of Ion C. Brãtianu from the small Romania was present33. Beyondthe author’s irony, the different levels of commemoration and the differentiationspresented by Ion Petrovici indicates the ritual around the big family, that had incenter the tutelary figures of modern Romania - Ion C. Brãtianu and his son IonI. C. Brãtianu, the first as a kind of pontiff for the cult. The scene evokes theinstitutional-organizational character of Brãtianu’s family cult in general, and ofthe sacred place in the liberal symbollical geography - Florica; it is an unprecedentedsituation in the secular political Romanian space and the cult was carefully kept aliveby the liberals through a ritualised and symbollic repetition of manifestations (atthe liberal studies centers, through the commemorative manifestations, memorialservices, manifestations on the occasion of various historical anniversaries, erectingstatues as an imagological hallmarks of the new political symbology, etc.), memoirs,press, cultural foundations, etc.34

The memory of Brãtianus is described differently, the rememberings or laudatiofor Vintilã or Dinu Brãtianu, as well as the feminine figures of the family (reminded


only in relation with the family cult) Pia Brãtianu or Eliza Brãtianu35, being placed,somehow normal, on a lesser position from the power perspective. A mightypersonality in the Romanian history, he ushered in a new society and he refoundedthe liberal party, he was viewed almost as godlike by his collaborators and consideredinvincible by adversaries, Ion I. C. Brãtianu plays a pivotal role in this constructbecause he organized the cult of his father (see the moment 1921), as a tokenof devotion towards his father - educator, stern and fair - but in the same timehe also absorbed the memory of his contemporaires, especially that of his brother,who benefited in a limited proportion from this cult. Aºezãmintele Ion I. C. Brãtianucollected and published the speeches and discourses of Vintilã Brãtianu, and Vieaþaºi opera lui Vintilã I. C. Brãtianu vãzute de prietenii ºi colaboratorii sãi, at the„Independenþa” Printery in 1936, under the patronage of the cultural AºezãmântIon C. Brãtianu. The historian Gheorghe Brãtianu, belonging to the third politicalgeneration of the family, „builds himself” through constant report to the paternaland deified figure of Ionel Brãtianu, publishing documents and private lettersas a form of social recognition36. Ionel Brãtianu was the one who imposed, throughhis actions and attitudes, the image of the political aristocracy. „The fear that amistake from his part could harm or diminish the brightness of his father’sname and glory, or that he could compromise the results of the family opus infounding the modern Romania, followed him constantly, throughout his life”, asa „guide in all his actions” said I.G. Duca”37. This charismatic model of ruling,considered by Max Weber for instance, to be very unstable as a pattern of legitimacy,functioned well between the two world wars, the president of the party beingable to embody the founding father’s legacy38. The election, in January 1934,of Constantin I. C. Brãtianu as president of the party is hard to explain, if we takeinto account his indifference towards public life and his political skills – it iseasy to explain it as a continuation of a sacred series. Dinu Brãtianu was depictedas „the fifth in this family blessed by God” that took over the party39. The presenceof the members of the family at the head of the party was seen as a majorcharacteristic for the liberals and established the reality of the cult. The intricaterole played by the family was fully assumed by the liberal collective mind; AlexandruLapedatu professed his deep devotion towards this family to N. Iorga, his infiniteadmiration; therefore, a strong feeling of support towards Dinu Brãtianu wasfelt, despite his obvious lack of political skills – it was just another facet of thissymbollical and political anthropology40. The Brãtianus remained in the core ofliberalism, even after 1945, when being a liberal was not a favourable option.In the speech by Gheorghe Tãtãrescu in front of the General Convention ofthe National Liberal Party, held in the First of July 1945, before being electedas the leader of the party (known in history as National Liberal Party GheorgheTãtãrescu), he admitted his desire to emulate the continuity: Ion Brãtianu the


First, Ion Brãtianu the Second41. His deep devotion towards the family was obviouseven in his physiognomy, as was ironically pointed out by an anti-liberal magazine– the beard – as a facial accesory – being only one element left from the oldIon Brãtianu and passed on along with the party to Ionel Brãtianu42.

Together with the great family, being in the same time an integral part of it,the liberal pantheon included other liberal personalities, like D. A Sturdza or I.G. Duca. Their own image authority in the period between the two worldwars was limited; they preferred to place themselves, especially in I.G. Duca’scase, within the family’s intimacy, at least from the point of view of theircollaboration with the great men that they met and implicitly from the pointof view of the legitimacy in their relation with the party and society. Their memory,although tends to be emancipated from the great shadow, (the case of I.G. Duca’sown cult), it is almost impossible to dissociate from the Brãtianus. The celebrationof the centenary of D. A Sturdza, held in February 1933, took place in theIon I. C. Brãtianu Library, and with this occasion, the celebrated liberal politicianthat lived in two centuries, (XIX-XX) was presented by a report to the family.„Chosen” by Ion C. Brãtianu as his successor at the head of the party, he enjoyedIonel Brãtianu’s appreciation, who offered a banquet in his honour in a very tensepolitical context, etc.43. A memory cult seen as an object of regaining the legitimacywas also the relation with Spiru Haret44, Alexandru (Alecu) Constantinescu-Porcu,rather through its legendary facet, of his sayings and memorable actions (morein an anecdotic sense), Eugeniu Carada and, especially, G. G. Mârzescu, the formerleader from Iaºi. The cult of Ionel Brãtianu’s collaborator from the criticalphase of the war and subsequently, from the time of strengthening the GreatRomania was perpetuated rather by the local organization of the party; it wasalso, initially, a form of recognition of George Brãtianu, the son who carried,in a symbollic way the impossible task of being his collaborator; eventually, thepositive image of Gh. Mârzescu was only a manoevre to limit the same son’spossibilities of action, because of his close relations with Carol II. The realregret at the great politician’s death was succedeed by an avalanche of events (theannual pilgrimage of the central and local leaders at the grave, the statue erectedin Iaºi by the French sculptor Ernest Dubois, which was presented with greatpomp on the 27-th of September 1936, etc.) ment to transform G. G. Mârzescuin a symbol of party’s capabilities.

The liberals were deeply connected to the messianism of a family that acted,as I.G. Duca stated on his relation with Ionel Brãtianu, sub speciae eternitatis45,and eventually they began to regard Brãtianus memory as a kind of fetish, anelement of power and public conduct. This was rather exceptional, even for aperipheric society, and it was signaled as such by adversaries. The conservativepolitician Nicolae Filipescu accused them, even in 1894, noting that „they


acted like members of a religious cult: they have the ritual, the discipline, theceremonial of their religion. They have a cult of the dead, pilgrimages to theancestors tombs, the adoration of saints”46. The canonization of the dead onesand the fact that they seemed to act in a sectarian spirit was constantly criticizedby the opposition representatives even after the war; their image of liberalswas that of a party interested to build an organization similar to a clan and favoringsimilar political lines and professions. The exagerated celebration of liberal leadersmemory and the glorification of the legitimated past translated, for many observers,the annulment of reason, the limitation of human thinking in the face of theadored object; in the public sphere, the liberal fetishism was considered, as a liberaldisident pointed out, as a mirror of their uncertainty, a policy of ignoring thechanges and challenges; he concluded that the head of the party was „Brãtianuname”, inherited from father to son, a fact that brougth about a catastrophy,because it obliterated the citizenship ideals; in a party made out of mamelukes,the servants kneel in front of the name Brãtianu47.

3.3. Romanian liberal’s sacred geography. Florica. At a different level ofmemory, the cult of the leaders continues in the appreciation of their sacred place,Florica, which became a symbollical space for their pilgrimages. Florica is amultitude of layers of traditons and symbols connected to the Romanian liberals.The place where Ion C. Brãtianu reflected, a place of recovering the revolutionaryspirit of the liberalism, where in dire periods C. A. Rosetti was to be found,the place of childhood for Brãtianu brothers; the metaphor of the united nation,illustrated by the bringing of Horia’s church from Albac and also the necropolisof the founders of modern Romania - Ion C. Brãtianu, Ionel and Vintilã Brãtianu.Evoking Ionel Brãtianu’s memory at every step from a temporal perspective,Florica was a pilgrimage destination for liberals and not only48.

Florica was transformed into a privileged sanctuary of memory, a symbol ofpower and a space of pilgrimage. The isolation to Florica was first a political tacticof the father, even if it was opposed by its contemporaries. Mihail Kogãlniceanuremarked that while „the Moldavian politicians left their homes in Iaºi to the owlsto come to Bucharest, the prime minister goes to Florica to work on his vineyard”49.Ionel Brãtianu’s retreats to Florica, before taking any important decisions for thecountry, were almost a ritual. After his death, liberal leaders went often to thefamily’s crypt as a gesture of continuity.

The crypt from Florica became „sacred” for liberals, as Mircea Djuvara said,here „sleeping their final sleep, in three tombs under the same vault, three figuresthat will stay forever in the Romanian’s nation memory”, that of Ion Brãtianu,„the one who laid the foundation”, his son „who, with sacrifice of blood, erectedthe proud and eternal monument of the State of al Romanians” and that of Pia


Brãtianu, „the wife of the first and mother of the second, who offered her supportand the warmth of her heroic heart, as a great example of what a woman’sheart should be”50. Although he never wanted a national funeral, Vintilã Brãtianuhad one. More so, even if he would have liked to be buried at Mihãeºti (outof a brotherly and filial sentiment?) the family took him to Florica51. VintilãBrãtianu viewed politics only as personal, purely human involvment, but afterdeath he belonged to the party’s memory and this memory could be used in asymbollical way, through concetrating the symbols in a sacred space.

The image of center for the liberals and for Romania was perpetuated alsoby the contemporaries - I. G. Duca presents us Tache Protopopescu, before goingto have a complicated operation abroad, first stopping at the tomb of Ion C.Brãtianu52. Grigore Trancu-Iaºi talking about Ionel Brãtianu’s funeral, said thathe went „for the first time at the Mecca of the liberals”53. Florica was the foundationwhere Ionel Brãtianu could be known in his intimacy, as Stelian Popescu remarked54.Even for a skilled politician like Constantin Argetoianu, the journey to the „Meccaof the liberals” (as he names it and it seemed to be known like that in the politicalimaginary of the time), was a significant moment55. The journalist A. P. Samsonremembered that the invitation to participate at the commemoration of IonelBrãtianu’s death at Florica must be considered as a supreme favour56. A visit toFlorica remained an unforgettable memory, as it happened in the fall of 1926,with the former rector of University of Iaºi, dr. N. Leon. He was there, togetherwith Alexandru Alimãniºteanu’s family (Virgil Alimãniºteanu was his son-in-law),dr. Leon was fascinated by Ionel Brãtianu and he was impressed by Ion C. Brãtianu’sbedroom, that reminded him of Goethe’s residence in Weimar; this was the placewhere the objects belonging to the great defunct man were kept, exactly in thesame order they were arranged during his life, untouched by time, like a realepiphany. The conclusion drawn by the professor was that if he had the chanceto meet Ionel Brãtianu twenty years earlier, he would have become the mostardent liberal and one of his most devoted soldiers57; this testimony clearly showsthe power of persuasion possesed by the sacred space.

Florica had also a different role – to absolve the „guilts”; after the war IonelBrãtianu was ready to forgive the pro-German attitude of the writer D. D. Pãtrãºcanuand he wanted to bring him back into the party, as he prooved to be a good electorat Bacãu, filing petitions to different ministeries (including one to support AurelVlaicu). Vintilã Brãtianu was against this move on publical morality grounds,to which Ionel Brãtianu replied that D. D. Pãtrãºcanu had been a gust at Florica58.

In the symbollical construction of space, the role played by the poet Ion Pillatwas certainly important, as he was the great poet of Florica. Pillat confers itwith the privileged space of childhood – the end of the inter-war years: countryside, so closely connected to the Brãtianus clan, it gathered, symbollically the


typical Romanian features: the landscape woven with the legend and history ofthe country. As a political and personal conclusion he states that Florica was a„real school for soul and character” for the Romanian nation59. In his evocationof the people - Ion and Pia Brãtianu, Ionel etc., and the atmosphere, he feelsthat every aspect of the space was saturated with the cult of history and family.In his volume Up on Argeº the poet is not guided by the „embrace of the past,but rather of a family”, as Tudor Vianu pointed out in a volume called Literaryportraits and studies (1938)60.

Conclusions

R EMEMBERING AND respecting the past are normal forms of building anidentity. In the case of Romanian liberals, the discussion on the Romanianmodernity achievements and the positive underline of the founding figures

of the new society represented, firstly, an element of power, and secondly, an aspectof their political culture; the „non-liberal” tendency towards adulation exemplifiedby the cult of personality, in which Ion C. Brãtianu and his son, Ionel Brãtianu,were transformed, out of political legitimation reasons, in symbols at the centraland local level. Max Weber stated that the charismatic leader and the charismaticdomination is a modern form of power and legitimacy, with roots in the past61.The difficulties of political ascension in a rural society that only mimed democracyled liberals to hail the figure of their leader as the savior of the nation; to the figureof the elected ruler they opposed the figure of the charismatic and messianichero, that embodied, through its own genius „the real aspirations of the people”;the myth of the providential political man, who imposes his will to the societyis associated, as Jean-Jacques Wunenburger observes, with the triumph of democraticideals62. According to the same author, the ideal democratical government ofthe people only based on juridical laws is more an ideal for reflection and less aclear model; democracy implies the re-invention of the sacred, embodied by thePeople, Country, but more often by idolizing the leader63.

Liberals were prisoners of the unprecedented cult of Ionel Brãtianu – it wasa mean to legitimate and build solidarity and also a relic of paternalist politicalculture, a premodern feature on the verge of new social realities.

�


Notes

1. C. Banu, Grãdina lui Glaucon sau Manualul bunului politician, edited and intro-ductory study by Valeriu Râpeanu, Bucureºti, PRO publishing house, 1998, p. 116.

2. See my article, “Partidul Naþional Liberal la sfârºitul anului 1927”, in Istorie ºi conºþiinþã.Supplement of the Analele ªtiinþifice ale Universitãþii Al. I. Cuza din Iaºi (new series),tome XLVI-XLVII, 2000-2001, p. 330-343.

3. N. Iorga, România contemporanã de la 1904 la 1930. Supt trei regi. Istorie a uneilupte pentru un ideal moral ºi naþional, edited, notes and comments by Valeriu Râpeanuand Sanda Râpeanu, Bucharest, Pro publishing house, 1999, p. 358; Grigore Trancu-Iaºi, member, between the two world wars, of the party led by General Averescu(People’s Party), who was a liberal before the war, noted in his Memoirs on the 24-th of November 1927: „He’s dead! Just a few words and yet how many changes willfollow for the country. (…) I anticipate great changes (…) A chapter of the con-temporary history is closed. A new chapter begins. (Grigore Trancu-Iaºi, Memoriipolitice (1921-1938), edited by Fabian Anton, Bucharest, Curtea Veche publishinghouse, 2001, p. 37-39).

4. “A thunderbolt fell unexpectedly upon our country, drawing blood from people’sheart”, wrote the liberal newspaper from Iaºi Miºcarea in its Friday, the 25-th ofNovember 1927 edition (year XXI, no. 267) under the title “The death of themost celebrated son of Great Romania”; also, Stelian Popescu, minister of Justiceat the time, in the liberal government, noted in Universul, from the 26-th of November1927 (year XLV, no. 276) that “the news is terrible. The mind stands still; themind of a nation is draped in black… The lightning of this death chokes, becauseIon Brãtianu was the bearer of the torches… And a huge rock fell, stopping the hopesand the thoughts of advance…”

5. „Trei oameni: Generalul Averescu – Take Ionescu – Ion I. C. Brãtianu”, in IdeeaEuropeanã, year I, no. 22, Sunday, the 16-th of November 1919, p. 1.

6. Anastasie Iordache, Ion I. C. Brãtianu, Bucharest, Albatros publishing house, 1994,p. 547.

7. Nae Ionescu, who considered Ionel Brãtianu a „tyrant”, „the man who never knewhow to listen to the events”, wrote that his “unquestionable prestige”, his “faith wasunfair: so much love for his country and so much devotion to the national affairs shouldhave been rewarded much more. For he was a great man, even if he enflicted a lot ofdamage” (Un erou de tragedie,in Nae Ionescu, Roza vânturilor. 1926-1933, collectedby Mircea Eliade, Kishinev, Hyperion publishing house, 1993, p. 248).

8. Nicolae Iorga, with his allegorical and metaphorical manner of speech, was the mainagent in this reversed canonization. Many of his phrases had a profound impacton Romanian historiography, obstructing the interpretation. Also V. Madgearu con-tributed to this image of the all-powerful liberal leader – he transmitted the newsabout the death on the telephone to M. Manoilescu saying that “the ruler of the coun-try, our ruler is dead” (Mihail Manoilescu, Memorii, vol. I, edited, notes and indexby Valeriu Dinu, Bucharest, Enciclopedicã publishing house, 1993, p. 162) oreven Mihail Manoilescu, for whom “nothing could be more staggering for the


Romanian public opinion than the news of the death of the one who was for 13 yearsthe absolute ruler of Romania…” (Ibidem).

9. Gala Galaction, Jurnal, vol. III, second edition, complete text, edited and notes byTeodor Vârgolici, Albatros, publishing house, Bucharest, 1999, p. 207.

10. I. G. Duca, Amintiri politice, vol. III, München, Jon Dumitru-Verlag, 1982, p.228-229.

11. Ibidem, p. 230.12. Democraþia – festive number, year XV, no. 12, December 1927.13. See, for example, the special issue dedicated to the event by Parlamentul (year I,

nr. 5, Wednesday, 30-th of November 1927) or the party local newspapers.14. „Doliul Þãrii pentru Ion I. C. Brãtianu”, in Viitorul, an XX, nr. 5933, joi 1 decem-

brie 1927.15. „He was the legitimate figure for our internal advance and consolidation”, concluded

the professor E. Diaconescu („I. I. C. Brãtianu”, in Miºcarea, year XXI, no. 268,Saturday, the 26-th of November 1927.

16. „ªedinþa funerarã dela clubul liberal”, speech by Prof. N. ªerban, in Miºcarea,year XXI, no. 270, Tuesday, the 29-th of November 1927.

17. Petre I. Ghiaþã assigns this tendency to a “church prince”, without naming him (PetreI. Ghiaþã, Oameni ºi fapte, Ideia, Bucharest, f.a., p. 23-27). Most probably is theBishop of Râmnic Nou Severi, Vartolomeiu (“În faþa morþii. Cuvinte pentru MareleRãposat. O viaþã de pildã veºnicã”, in Viitorul, year XX, no. 5933, Thursday, Firstof December 1927).

18. I am more inclined towards studies like the ones of Graeme Gill, on the dimen-sion of personality cult in the Soviet Union, from “The Soviet Leader Cult: Reflectionson the Structure of Leadership in the Soviet Union”, in British Journal of PoliticalScience 10(2), 1980, 167-186 or Robert C. Tucker, cu Political Culture and Leadershipin Soviet Russia, From Lenin To Gorbachev, 1988 than I am towards those analyzingthe great historical personalities from image and iconographical perspective, or fromthe point of view of the political ritual, such as Jean Tulard, Le Mythe de Napoléon,1971, or Napoléon ou le mythe du saveur, 1987, Didier Musiedlak, Mussolini, 2005,Ian Kershaw, The Hitler Myth: Image and Reality in the Third Reich, 1987, or AndiMihalache, cu Mãnuºi albe, mãnuºi negre. Cultul eroilor în vremea dinastiei deHohenzollern, 2007 in Romanian space.

19. Dimitrie Gusti, Partidul politic. Sociologia unui sistem al partidelor politice, în Doctrinelepartidelor politice, Bucharest, Garamond publishing house, [f.a.], p. 28-31.

20. N. N. Sãveanu, Cuvântãri. Rostite ca preºedinte al Adunãrii Deputaþilor. 1927-1928,Bucharest, „Cartea Româneascã”, 1928, p. 5).

21. Here is a folklore sample, from the electoral campaign for the July 1927 elections,“belonging” to the priest Ion Opincã, Cântecul lui Ion Brãtianu (from Glasul Ardealului,year I, no. 26, Sunday, tenth of July 1927, p. 2), suggesting through versification(?), but also through the pseudonym of the author, the connection between theliberal leader and the rural world:Green leave of marjoram / Long live Ion Brãtian !…/ The only Brãtian / Who has pityof peasants!….//


At the government the load is heavy / Brãtianu’s my only hope…// If you want to flour-ish / Our Romanian country / Stick with steady faith / To Ion Brãtianu the Great.

22. “Pentru pomenirea marelui Ion I. C. Brãtianu”, in Glasul Ardealului, year III, no.48, Sunday, First of December 1929, p. 3; “Doi ani de la moartea lui Ion I. C.Brãtianu”, in Glasul Ardealului, year III, no. 46, Sunday, the 17-th of November1929, p. 1.

23. V. Negreanu and A. Drãgulinescu (anthology), Ion I. C. Brãtianu, Cuvintele unuimare român. Fragmente din discursuri. 1914-1927, preface by Horia Furtunã, EdituraRamuri, Craiova, f.a. [1928-1929]; I. G. Duca Portrete ºi amintiri, Bucharest, 1932;Alexandru I. Teodorescu, Ion C. Brãtianu ºi fiii sãi Ionel ºi Vintilã. Douã conferinþe,Aºezãmântul Cultural Ion C. Brãtianu, XV, Bucharest, Imprimeriile Independenþa,1938; Petre Gheaþã, Ionel Brãtianu, Cluj, 1946 etc.

24. Mircea Djuvara, Ion I.C. Brãtianu, Bucharest, Imprimeriile Independenþa, 1928;on the relation with Ionel Brãtianu, the great historian Nicolae Bãnescu offered aremarkable objectivity, writing a brochure of 196 p., Ion I. C. Brãtianu. 1864-1927, published at Craiova in 1931 (Ramuri publishing house), without any criti-cal spirit.

25. One year after his death, in the context of a difficult opposition, the image of IonI. C. Brãtianu was projected in Bucovina as the greatest Romanian and head ofstate of the time; if, at Bucharest, at the memorial service at the Amzei Churchonly the members of the family and the leaders of the national-liberal organiza-tions were to participate, elsewhere each chief of liberal organization from cities orvillages was invited to hold a memorial service at the church, followed by a meet-ing at the party’s houses in Glasul Bucovinei, year XI, no. 2816, Wednesday, the twen-ty first of November 1928, p. 1. Those services were held, at least in the bigger citiesin the provinces (“Parastas pentru Ion I. C. Brãtianu în Cernãuþi”, in Glasul Bucovinei,year XI, no. 2817, Friday, the 23-rd of November 1928, p. 1; “Comemorarea morþiilui Ion I. C. Brãtianu în þarã”, in Glasul Bucovinei, year XI, no. 2820, Tuesday, the27-th of November 1928, p. 1).

26. David Kertzer, Ritual, politicã ºi putere, translated by Sultana Avram and TeodorFleºeriu, foreword by Radu Florescu, Bucharest, Univers publishing house, 2002,p. 91. As Murray Edelman, the myths and metaphors allow people to live in a worldwhere the causes are simple and clear and the solutions are obvious. Instead of anempirical, complicated world, people tend to prefer a few archetypal myths, amongwhich the ones of the redeeming and all-powerful hero have major impact (MurrayEdelman, Politica ºi utilizarea simbolurilor, translated by Ruxandra Nichita, Iaºi, EdituraPolirom, 1999, p. 174-176).

27. “ªedinþa comemorativã dela Biblioteca Ion I. C. Brãtianu”, in Viitorul year XXIII, no.6878, Friday, the 9-th of January 1931, p. 1.

28. I will present, without a fixed hierarchy, some of these manifestations in order tooffer examples. Nicolae Filittis, the owner of the Rãduleºti estate, organized a cul-tural celebration at Fierbinþi (Ilfov county), to open, in the presence of ConstantinI. C. Brãtianu, I. G. Duca, dr. C. Angelescu, C. Dimitriu, I. I. Niculescu-Dorobanþu,a cultural foundation „Ion I. C. Brãtianu” (in „Viitorul”, year XXII, no.6690, Thursday,


the 29-th of May 1930). Jean Th. Florescu, who eventually left the liberal party ashe thought it was a rigid structure, contributed to the myth, presenting an imageof Ionel Brãtianu during the war – he was like a Sphinx, solemn, but also like afather of the country (Ion Th. Florescu, Gânduri de altãdatã, Bucureºti, „Tiparniþa”-Institutul de Arte Grafice, 1940, p. 148). A liberal from Brãila, Berman Marguliesuses terms such as “great founder of Romanian nation”, “figure illuminated by abright halo”, his memory was like a “sacred monument”, “a titanic life” (BermanMargulies, Ionel I. C. Brãtianu. Cuvinte de amintire, Brãila, 1934, p. 9-13).

29. The exception is the statue made by the Croatian sculptor Ivan Mestrovici in 1937,inaugurated on November 24th in Commemoration of Ion I. C. Brãtianu death, nearhis home in Amzei Square in Bucharest (see Biblioteca Naþionalã, Special Collections,Fond Brãtianu, ds. 1-2 / 1937-1938).

30. Pamfil ªeicaru, Istoria partidelor naþional, þãrãnist ºi naþional þãrãnist, second edi-tion, Bucharest Editura Victor Frunzã, 2000, p. 231.

31. William Martin, director of newspaper „Journal de Genève”, wrote a book calledLes Hommes d’ État pendant la guerre, in which a chapter is dedicated to Ionel Brãtianu;the words in which Romania’s presence in the war is asserted are not very flatter-ing to the political man or to the Romanian people (Romanian’s actions have beenonly a lamentable adventure of an amorphous nation, Bessarabia was a “tip”, etc.);the main protest came from the widow of the former liberal leader Elisa Brãtianu,who published in „L’ Independance Roumanie” a letter of protest (Elise J. Brãtiano,Lettre ouverte à M. William Martin. Publiée dans „L’Indépendance Roumaine” du 22Septembrie 1929 (Les hommes d’Etat pendant la Guerre)); see other reactive actionssuch as Gheorghe I. Brãtianu, “Cine a fãcut România Mare”, in Miºcarea, year XXIII,no. 145, 29-th of June 1929, p. 1; Cine a fãcut România Mare ? , in „Universul”,year XLVII, no.136 and 141, 17 and 23-rd of June 1929, p. 1-2 and 6 (with pres-entation of the response of the article published by Asociaþia „Cultul Patriei” onthe tenth anniversary of the Great Unification from the magazine Cele trei Criºuri,no. 5-6, May-June a.c., written by Sever Bocu, following the protest of generalfederation of the veterans from the Cultural League from Craiova, the Union ofReserve Officers from Dolj). Also the liberals from province defended the memo-ry of the great liberal, talking about a condamnatio memoriae supposedly practiced bythe national-peasant party regime towards the memory of the liberal leader, for exam-ple, the renaming of several names of streets that bore his name in some Transylvaniancities, the removal of his portrait from the Câmpulung City Hall, etc. (“Luptacontra portretului lui Ion I. C. Brãtianu”, in Glasul Bucovinei, year XIII, nr.3346,Tuesday, the 14-th of October 1930, p. 3).

32. ANIC, Fond Rosetti, ds. 94 / 1932-1934, Jurnal (9 mai 1932 – 31 decembrie 1934),f. 98.

33. Ion Petrovici, De-a lungul unei vieþi. Amintiri, Bucharest, Editura pentru literaturã,1966, p. 302-306.

34. I. G. Duca, Ion C. Brãtianu. Din ciclul de conferinþe „Fondatorii României moderne”– 12 Mai 1932 –, Bucharest, „Cartea Româneascã”, 1932. speech at the Free University;Idem, Amintiri. Conferinþã þinutã la Cercul Analelor Române, first edition, Bucharest,


„Cultura Naþionalã” publishing house, 1933. See the commemorative volume at theanniversary of 50 years from Ion C. Brãtianu’s death, published at the culturalAºezãmânt that bore his name, La moartea lui Ion C. Brãtianu. Articole din presã,telegrame, scrisori, Bucharest, „Cartea Româneascã”, 1941, preface by Gheorghe I.Brãtianu. the volume represents the reliving of the hero’s death, the echoes producedin the Romanian and foreign press at the time and is viewed from the ceremonialperspective, from the perspective of the delegates present at the funeral, the telegramsreceived from around the world, the speeches, the apologetic articles, the foreigncomments, the fragments from journals, etc. It is a fascinating work, in my opin-ion, in the modern Romanian history as a memoirs example; especially the studyof Sabina Cantacuzino, Din viaþa familiei I. C. Brãtianu, vol. I-II, collected, edited,introductory study and notes by dr. Elisabeta Simon, Albatros publishing house,Bucharest, 1993 and 1996, and the discussion that generated. See Severa Sihleanu,Note ºi desminþiri asupra „Amintirilor” D-nei Sabina Cantacuzino, Bucharest, Tiparul„Cartea Româneascã”, 1938.

35. the image of Elizei Brãtianu, intelligent woman and admirable wife, was a perfectaddenda to Ionel Brãtianu’s cult, at least at the level of the liberal or pro-liberal press,which presented her actions to preserve his memory (the gift she made by offeringa part of the house situated on Lascãr Catargiu street, no. 5, for building a greatlibrary consisting of 5800 volumes, within Aºezãmintele Ion I. C. Brãtianu) (“Oînsemnatã danie a d-nei Eliza Brãtianu”, in Universul, year XLVII, no. 85, Sunday,the 14-th of April 1929, p. 7); “O mare româncã: Doamna Elisa I. Brãtianu”, inUniversul, year XLVII, no. 88, Thursday, the 18-th of April 1929, p. 1). Especiallyregarding the memoirs of Sabinei Cantacuzino, Pia Brãtianu is evoked by the lib-eral press from the perspective of her sons education. See “Ion I. C. Brãtianu ºi maicasa”, in Miºcarea, year XXIII, no. 266, Tuesday, the 26-th of November 1929, p. 1(the letter send by Ionel Brãtianu to his son George, announcing his mother’s death,Pia Brãtianu) etc.

36. “Dupã doi ani”,in Miºcarea, year XXIII, no. 265, Sunday, the 24-th of November1929, p. 1; “În zile grele. Între douã revoluþii”, in Miºcarea, year XXIII, no. 266,Tuesady, the 26-th of November 1929, p. 1 (cu poetul Alexandru Vlahuþã povestinddespre Ionel Brãtianu), etc.

37. I. G. Duca, Portrete ºi amintiri, fifth edition, Bucharest, Humanitas publishing house,1990, p. 55.

38. Max Weber, Politica, o vocaþie ºi o profesie, translation from German by Ida Alexandrescu,Bucharest, Anima publishing house, 1992, p. 9.

39. “Noul ºef al partidului liberal”, in Parlamentul românesc, year V, no. 131, 18-th ofJanuary 1934, p. 4-6.

40. N. Iorga, Memorii, vol. VI, Încercarea guvernãrii peste partide (1930-1932), Bucharest,1939, p. 397 (note from May 1932).

41. Gheorghe Tãtãrescu, Discursuri – Program, Expozeuri, Cuvântãri, Bucharest, f.l.,f.a. [1946], p. 15.

42. And held by liberal leaders like Cipãianu, Mrazec, Nistor, Sassu etc. (Cronica Politicãºi Parlamentarã, year II, no. 51, Friday, the 9-th of May 1930, p. 8-9).


43. “In memoria lui D. A. Sturdza – cu prilejul centenarului de la naºterea sa – Cuvântãrirostite în Biblioteca Ion I. C. Brãtianu (25-th of February 1933)”, in Democraþia,year XXI, no. 2, February 1933, p. 5-31.

44. Spiru Haret was the object of a different cult, that of the liberal politician that wasalso a scholar, close to the peasants, willing to enlighten them. A whole edition ofDemocraþia was dedicated to him (Democraþia, year XX, no. 12, December 1932).

45. I. G. Duca, op. cit., p. 42.46. Nicolae Filipescu, Discursuri politice, vol. I, 1888-1901, Bucharest, Minerva publishing

house, 1912, p. 98, apud Vistian Goia, Destine parlamentare. De la Mihail Kogãlniceanula Nicolae Titulescu, Cluj-Napoca, Dacia publishing house, 2004, p. 172.

47. “Fetiºism liberal”, in Liberalul, Buzãu (director C. Iarca), year XXXVII, no 2, 20-th of January 1929.

48. Sterie Diamandi, Galeria oamenilor politici, Bucharest, Gesa publishing house, 1991(reproduces the edition from 1935), p. 97. even the historians can’t deny theserepresentations, Anastasie Iordache beginning his work on Brãtianus with an intro-ductory chapter entitled Cu umbrele strãbunilor pe plaiuri de legendã (Anastasie Iordache,Dumitru Brãtianu: diplomatul, doctrinarul liberal ºi omul politic, Bucharest, 2004).

49. Apud Vistian Goia, op. cit., p. 171-172.50. Mircea Djuvara, “Ion I. C. Brãtianu”, in Democraþia, year XXV, no. 1-2, January-

February 1937, p. 5 (the issue was dedicated to Ionel Brãtianu’s memory, whodied 10 years before).

51. N. Iorga, Memorii, vol. VI, p. 38.52. I. G. Duca, op. cit., p. 28.53. Grigore Trancu-Iaºi, op. cit., p. 38.54. Stelian Popescu Amintiri, edited, preface and notes by Ioan Opriº, Albatros pub-

lishing house, Bucharest, 2000, p. 235.55. Constantin Argetoianu, Memorii. Pentru cei de mâine. Amintiri din vremea celor de ieri,

vol. VIII, part VII (1926-1930), edition and index by Stelian Neagoe, Bucharest,Machiavelli publishing house, 1997, p. 94-95.

56. A. P. Samson, Memoriile unui gazetar (1927-1937), Bucharest, Cartea Româneascãpublishing house, 1979, p. 255.

57. Prof. dr. N. Leon, Note ºi Amintiri, Bucharest, „Cartea Româneascã publishinghouse”, 1933, p. 238-240.

58. Petre Pandrea, Memoriile mandarinului valah, bio-bibliographical marks by AndreiPandrea, Bucharest, Albatros publishing house, 2001, p. 80.

59. Ion Pillat, Florica. Viea ºi casa Brãtienilor. Douã conferinþe de Ion Pillat, Bucharesti,„Informaþia Zilei”, 1944 (Cultural Aºezãmânt Ion C. Brãtianu); Idem, “Mãrturisiri”,out of Revista Fundaþiilor Regale, no. 2, 1942.

60. Apud Z. Ornea, Tradiþionalism ºi modernitate în deceniul al treilea, Eminescu pub-lishing house, Bucharest, 1980, p. 576. Poezia Odaia bunicului, written in 1929, con-sidered a lyrical achievement of the local symbolism, describes, in an elegiac tone,the atmosphere of Florica: „Nothing’s moved and I do recognize the room / O’ grandpa’ which alive I neverknew. / His bed is kept even today / His clock still beats its tick-tack.//…. A door has


squeaked… a footstep… and I’m waiting confused / For grandpa’ to enter, back fromhis trip only to the vineyard” (Ibidem, p. 577). See the poem “Toamna la Florica”(Ibidem, p. 580-581).

61. Max Weber, op. cit.62. Jean-Jacques Wunenburger, Omul politic între mit ºi raþiune. O analizãlu

Abstract The Cult of Brãtianus Between the Two World Wars in Romania

Actors, characters, means and forms of expression

Based on the analysis of the official literature of the party and the memoirs of the main public actorsof the time or on archive documents from Central National Historical Archives, this text proposesan approach on the forms of expression that have as central focus Ion I. C. Brãtianu, but also adiscussion of the multiple means used or the stakes that the liberal discourse holds in the periodconnected with the Brãtianus cult; it is not an anthropological study, in the sense that I will notreferr to the rite, rituals and discourses that maintain the „litany” of the evocation; I will signal,from a political sociological point of view, the mechanisms of Brãtianus cult, its actors, its majorthemes and try to understand their positioning within the liberal decisions and convictions.

Keywordscult of leader, political ritual, propaganda discourse, cultural representations.


I I . 2 . T H E B I RT H O F A S O C I E T Y

À L’EXCEPTION DES salons modernes – espaces se trouvant entre la sphèrepublique et celle privée –, les plus importants lieux publics fréquentés par les élitesroumaines durant la première moitié du XIXe siècle étaient les promenades. Denombreux témoignages de l’époque confirment le fait que dans ces lieux publicsétait concentrée, en grande partie, la vie sociale des élites de Iassy et de Bucarest,capitales des deux principautés roumaines.1 C’est pour cette raison que nous allonsmettre en évidence quelques aspects sociaux propres à la promenade.

Jusqu’à l’apparition des promenades et des jardins publics aménagés, des lieuxà vocation récréative, c’étaient des espaces verts, privés ou publics, se trouvantà l’intérieur ou aux alentours des villes : forêts, prés, lacs, vignes, vergers et lesjardins non aménagés.2 Très fréquentés par toutes les couches sociales, depuisla fin du XVIIIe siècle déjà, la plupart de ces espaces ont été transformés au furet à mesure en promenades, jardins publics ou jardins-restaurants, ces derniersdevenant très populaires pendant la deuxième moitié du XIXe siècle.

Les promenades aménagées sont apparues suite au programme de systéma-tisation et de modernisation urbaine légiféré par le Règlement Organique. En1832, sur l’ordre du général Kiseleff, l’ingénieur de l’état Vladimir Blarembergconçoit l’allée sur la Colline de Mitropolie, à Bucarest (Fig. 1). Par comparai-son avec les promenades de grandes capitales européennes, celle-ci était modes-te et consistait dans un boulevard de terre tassée, bordé d’une clôture et dechâtaigniers plantés, et doté de réverbères et de bancs. Pour conserver ces amé-nagements dispendieux et pour encadrer le comportement du public, les auto-rités ont établi un horaire, mais qui n’a pas été respecté. Celles-ci ont pourtantréussi à entretenir ce « boulevard », considéré la principale promenade de la

Le rôle social de la promenade à Bucarest et à Iassy

(la première moitié du XIXe siècle)

DAN DUMITRU IACOB

Étude financée par le Projet UE, FSE, POSDRU, 89/1.5./S/61104 (2010-2013).

ville pour plus d’une décennie et demie, jusqu’à ce que le public soit attiré davan-tage par la Chaussée Kiseleff et par le Jardin Ciºmigiu.3

Mais la plus importante promenade aménagée à Bucarest, toujours à partir de1832, était celle qui menait de la rue Mogoºoaia à Bãneasa, car cette zone béné-ficiait déjà de quelques aménagements plus anciens, à savoir le dernier quartdu XVIIIe siècle. La promenade a été officiellement nommée « La Chausséede Kiselef » (en l’honneur du général Pavel Kiseleff), mais le terme courantétait « La Chaussée ». Conçue initialement avec cinq voies – une pour voitures,deux pour piétons et deux pour cavaliers – mais finalisée avec trois, La ChausséeKiseleff n’aura un aspect moderne qu’après 1843, lors de l’aménagement dujardin Herãstrau d’un coté et de l’autre de la chaussée, sous la direction fermede l’architecte paysagiste Carl Friederich Wilhelm Meyer. La préférence du publicpour La Chaussée Kiseleff, de plus, sa modernisation continue durant presqueplus d’un quart de siècle, a rendu à cette promenade un prestige qui pouvaitcontenter même les goûts des plus prétentieux visiteurs étrangers. La descriptionde Richard Kunisch en 1857 le confirme : « Le premier jour après mon arrivée,je me suis rendu à La Chaussée. [...] En effet, elle n’a qu’un quart de mille et aucu-ne destination, sauf de servir aux boyards de corso. Par conséquent, elle estabsolument indispensable et toute la vie sociale est concentrée dans les salonset sur cette Chaussée; l’hiver, s’ajoute le théâtre. [...] On va à la Chaussée en toutesaison, c’est pour cela qu’on a beaucoup entrepris pour en faire un lieu de pro-menade agréable. En continuation de la rue Mogoºoaia, elle est la rue princi-pale qui traverse toute la ville et sur laquelle se trouvent de nombreux palais etétablissements publics, et elle a trois parties. La première, c’est un chemin car-rossable large, situé entre deux chemins à double bordure d’arbres, qui est longde quelques centaines de pas et utilisé seulement pour des voitures. Elle finit dansune grande place ronde entourée par des arbres et du gazon, au milieu delaquelle jaillit l’eau d’une forte fontaine artésienne. Ensuite, de deux côtés de ladeuxième partie de la Chaussée, s’étendent des parcs. La deuxième partie res-semble à la première, elle est toutefois plus soignée, surtout les allées larges,bordées d’arbres, longeant le chemin carrossable, qui sont toujours en bon état.Sa prolongation ne sert qu’au passage de la Chaussée Kiseleff aux cheminsordinaires de la Valachie; les promenades n’arrivent pas jusqu’à cette troisièmepartie ».4

À Iassy, la plus importante promenade se trouvait sur la colline Copou, sonprestige provenant moins des aménagements urbanistiques, presque inexis-tants, ou du paysage, mais plutôt du spectacle crée par la société y réunie pourla promenade quotidienne. Comme à Bucarest, l’importance sociale de cetespace a attiré l’attention des contemporains, étant mentionnée aussi bien dansles récits de voyage que dans la littérature roumaine de l’époque. Parmi les des-


criptions indigènes, les plus détaillées et significatives par leur rapport auximplications sociales appartiennent à Mihail Kogãlniceanu et à Alecu Russo.5

À partir d’une réalité urbaine et sociale évidente en Europe au XIXe siècle,qu’il connaissait personnellement, Kogãlniceanu déclara qu’aucune des caractéris-tiques d’une vraie promenade ne se retrouve à Copou. En effet, il n’y avait ni belvédè-re, ni allées bordées d’arbres, ni monuments ou statues, ni animaux sauvages, nicarrosses étincelants, ni belles femmes élégantes qu’il avait vues dans les jardinspublics à Paris, Madrid, Vienne et Berlin. En revanche, la promenade de Copoucompensait, semblerait–il, par le paysage naturel, si apprécié par Alecu Russo, maisironisée par Kogãlniceanu : « Le poète a très bien compris la beauté de la prome-nade de Iassy. En fait, imagine le dos large comme une plaine d’une colline déser-te, ce dos où pâturent les bisons des boyards, les vaches des juifs, les chevaux desemployés de la Police et les ânes des pauvres, encadré d’un coté par la vallée de Cârliget de l’autre par la vallée Pãcurari, ayant en arrière, comme frontière, la barrièrede Copou et les poteaux rares du jardin public et tout devant la forêt en tant quecorps d’armée et, comme des ailes, les vignes de monsieur Regensburg ou d’autresrécemment plantées – voilà Copou, voilà la promenade favorite de nos concitoyens,à savoir un lieu plat, vert le printemps, jaune l’été, noir de boue l’automne et unepeu plus propre en hiver, à savoir blanc, sans arbre, ni chaussée, si mauvaise qu’el-le soit, ayant comme seule variété les tas d’ordures jetées chaque jour des chariotsdes boyards ».6 D’autres mentions sur Copou prouvent que l’image respectiven’était pas loin de la réalité.7 En 1849, l’année où Kogãlniceanu place sa descrip-tion, sauf les travaux du jardin Copou, la zone n’avait pas été urbanisée, quoiqueles projets ne manquent pas, faits confirmés par l’auteur cité8 et par des docu-ments de l’époque9. Les travaux allaient être réalisés les années suivantes, mais lesrésultats ont été loin d’être similaires à ceux de Herãstrau.10

Le prestige de Copou n’émanait pas de son paysage – peu importe si c’étaitcharmant ou déprimant –, mais du spectacle crée par la société y réunie pour lapromenade quotidienne. Pour l’identification des acteurs sociaux, des inten-tions et des motivations qui déterminaient la présence dans ce lieu, et pour ledéroulement du rituel en soi nous ferons appel de nouveau à Kogãlniceanu,qui, dans un ample fragment, nous décrit le tableau détaillé de ceux qui fré-quentaient Copou : « À cette belle promenade [...] la haute aristocratie de laMoldavie, boyards indigènes anciens ou nouveaux, nos braves officiers, nos damesles plus élégantes, des employés des institutions administratives, de la justiceou de l’église, les religieuses en congé, les jeunes élèves de l’Académie, autant qu’ily en ait encore, la fine fleur de la jeunesse la plus courageuse restée jeune aprèsvingt ans, les maîtresses du chancelier A., du juge V., du chambellan S. et del’écuyer D., une classe de dames incontournable dans une ville civilisée, classe qui,grâce à la liberté importée, s’agrandit de plus en plus, une partie venant de


Paris, une autre de Colomeea – toutes ces couches de notre société multi strati-fiée ont l’habitude de sortir vers quatre ou cinq heures en longue file de car-rosses de Vienne, la mode de 1849, de calèches de l’époque d’Ipsilant, de char-rettes lipovanes, des cabrioles de Rãdãuþi; tous passent sur le chemin principal,en tourbillons de poussière jusqu’à la barrière de la ville, tout en jetant un coupd’oeil à l’obélisque du jardin public, ils sortent à Copou. Alors, certains descen-dent de leurs voitures marchant sur l’herbe pâturée et les os des chevaux mortsde la poste; d’autres préfèrent rester dans leur carrosse, jambes croisées, laissantd’autres bêtes bouger pour eux ».11

Tous ceux qui faisaient partie de la haute société ou qui aspiraient à ce sta-tut étaient présents sur la promenade, car c’était l’espace urbain avec la plus gran-de force de polarisation publique des élites de la première moitié du XIXe siècle.C’est pour cela que la sortie en carrosse, sur les allées de promenade, était deve-nue un rituel quotidien presque obligatoire pour les gens aisés, d’où le trop grandnombre d’équipages présents dans cet espace. Selon les renseignements de TimoteiCipariu et de George Bariþiu, vers 1836, il n’y avait pas de cour seigneurialesans un équipage au moins : « à Bucarest, tous les riches, d’autant plus s’ilssont mariés, doivent posséder une voiture, un équipage, le reste de la popula-tion faisant appel à des carrosses publics dont le nombre atteint au moins 120 ».12

Ce fait est confirmé vers le milieu du siècle par le médecin allemand WilhelmDerblich qui précisait qu’à Bucarest chaque famille aisée avait son propre équi-page et les grands boyards, les officiers supérieurs et une partie de médecins enavaient deux.13 De plus, il existe assez de témoignages qui nous indiquent qu’enfait le nombre d’équipages et de carrosses, grands ou petits, détenu par les boyardsaurait pu être plus important, puisque cela dépendait des ressources matérielleset de l’orgueil des propriétaires, moins de leurs nécessités. Gheorghe Sion, parexemple, étonné par la fortune et le luxe étalé par le chancelier Constantin Sturdza,son protecteur, n’oublie pas de mentionner le nombre de chevaux et des voi-tures de la cour seigneuriale : « tous de la maison, le boyard, sa femme, ses enfantsavaient chacun son équipage de gala, de promenade ou de tous les jours. Dansson écurie se trouvaient plus de vingt chevaux. Dans ses hangars, plus de quin-ze carrosses. En fait, la cour princière ne montrait pas le luxe, la largesse et lamagnificence qu’on voyait dans la maison du chancelier C. Sturza. Seule lamaison de Roznovanu pouvait rivaliser avec celle-là. »14

Bref, un grand boyard pouvait avoir un grand nombre de carrosses, en nousne prenons pas en compte les voitures de voyage, de promenade ou celles utili-taires, se trouvant sur leurs terres.15 On pourrait dire qu’il s’agit, dans ce cas, dequelques exceptions, car, selon le mémorialiste même, les boyards mentionnésétaient deux des plus riches en Moldavie. De tels exemples existaient à Bucarestaussi, où vers 1836 Cipariu et Bariþiu observaient « parfois trois calèches rem-


plies de dames sortir des cours de l’aristocratie bucarestoise. »16 Tout en gar-dant les proportions, nous identifions de telles voitures même dans les coursdes boyards moins importants, en réalité des commerçants, greffiers de la courprincière, métayers ou petits fonctionnaires qui ne pouvaient pas se passer deces attributs symboliques des rangs récemment occupés. »17

Sans avoir la garantie de l’exactitude, les chiffres relatifs au nombre de car-rosses existants à Iassy ou à Bucarest au milieu du XIXe siècle nous aident à mieuxtracer l’ampleur de cette pratique quotidienne. Vers 1833, le nombre d’équipagesqui sortaient pour la promenade à Bucarest, le temps de grandes fêtes surtout,était estimé à plus de 800.18 Dix ans plus tard, le consul prussien Johann FerdinandNeigebaur, généralement bine informé sur les réalités roumaines, avançait deschiffres incroyables : 12.000 carrosses, 40.000 chevaux de luxe et environ 100fiacres à Bucarest, et 1.300 équipages, 500 fiacres à un cheval et plus de 12.000chevaux à Iassy.19 Une statistique plus proche de la réalité est donnée par JeanA. Vaillant, mentionnant qu’à Bucarest, en 1844, il y avait 1.775 carrosses(dont toutes n’étaient pas luxueuses), 70 fiacres, 7.502 carrioles et 18.930 che-vaux.20 Bref, en faisant abstraction de la précision des informations, de nombreuxtémoignages soulignent une évidence claire : vers le milieu du XIXe siècle, maisles décennies précédentes aussi, à Iassy et à Bucarest surtout, il existait un nombreimpressionnant d’équipages appartenant aussi bien à l’aristocratie qu’à des pro-priétaires provenant d’autres couches sociales et qui disposaient de ressourcesmatérielles suffisantes pour l’acquisition de ces attelages. Sans doute ces voi-tures – d’habitude les meilleures et les plus nouvelles – servaient-elles à la pro-menade quotidienne.

Pour une grande partie de la société, la promenade était l’événement le plusimportant de la journée, attendu impatiemment et préparé longuement, d’aprèsles sources de l’époque : « Les indigènes, les femmes surtout, ont un faiblepour cette promenade si bien qu’aucune urgence ne peut leur faire accepter d’yrenoncer; ne pas prendre part à la promenade, cela leur engendrait un immen-se chagrin. Toutes les dames, celles de la couche moyenne spécialement, atten-dent fiévreusement leur chère promenade pour laquelle elles s’habillaient commepour le bal. »21 L’impatience est certainement le résultat de l’anticipation des satis-factions ressenties lors de la promenade, comme nous allons le voir, et du fait queceux qui désiraient sortir se promener devaient se conformer à un certain emploidu temps quotidien, fixé par des convenances sociales, mais dépendant aussid’autres exigences administratives (au préalable, il fallait arroser les allées depromenade l’été ou les déneiger l’hiver).

Chaque jour, la promenade avait lieu dans un endroit prédéterminé, après lasieste jusqu’à la tombée de la nuit et les seules variables intervenant dans la confi-guration des horaires étaient les cycles climatiques.22 Certains espaces amé-


nagés, comme le jardin royal de Socola, à Iassy, ou l’Allée de Mitropolie, à Bucarest,avait un horaire officiel.

Le temps de la promenade réveillait la ville de sa torpeur. Les centaines de car-rosses sortant des cours des boyards dans les rues, provoquant des accidents etdes embouteillages, produisant l’impression d’un exode. Pour les citadins ordi-naires, tout comme pour les classes aisées, le train formé de ces voitures consti-tuait un vrai spectacle qu’on ne pouvait pas rater. »23

Les étrangers qui voyaient pour la première fois ces « processions » publiquesétaient fascinés et intrigués par le nombre impressionnant d’équipages privés défi-lant dans les rues des villes. Voulant se faire très tôt une idée générale sur la hautesociété du pays, ils plaçaient la visite de la promenade parmi leurs intérêts prio-ritaires. Par exemple, le prince russe Anatole Demidov et sa suite, se trouvant àBucarest en 1837 : « comme de vrais étrangers curieux », ils se rendent à LaChaussée pour passer en revue « les classes aisées de cette capitale, qui étaient sor-ties pour leur promenade habituelle dans leurs équipages de tous les jours ».24

L’allée de promenade n’excellait pas à l’époque par ses aménagements ou sonentretien, mais ce qui étonnait le plus, en outre le nombre, le luxe et la diver-sité des équipages, c’étaient les contrastes de civilisation mis en évidence par lesvêtements et les manières de ceux qui occupaient ces carrosses : femmes, jeuneshommes habillés selon la dernière mode occidentale, à côté des vieux à barbesvénérables, vêtus d’accoutrements orientaux, des cochers en vêtements russesou turcs, accompagnés par des Albanais armés en tenues luxueuses.

Moins prétentieux que le noble russe, mais ayant bien sûr moins voyagédans le monde, Timotei Cipariu et George Bariþiu avaient été beaucoup plusimpressionnés que celui-là devant les promenades de la ville, qu’ils avaient par-courues une année plus tôt, en août 1836. De tout cela, l’Allée Mitropolie, Herãstrãuet Bãneasa ont attiré toute leur attention, autant par le spectacle de la sociétéque par les perspectives larges sur la ville. Cipariu déclarait sur la promenadeHerãstrãu : « Ce n’est pas facile de décrire la scène là-bas; le nombre de calèches,la beauté et la toilette des femmes étaient exemplaires, jamais je n’ai vu unetelle grandeur ».25 Comme d’autres observateurs étrangers, ils sont émus devantla parade de la société, spectaculaire par l’ampleur de la participation à un rituelquotidien, par l’exhibition d’une parure luxueuse et variée, par le tempéramentdes manifestations.

Leur attention ne se résumait qu’à cet aspect. Esprits sensibles, éduqués, lesdeux voyageurs trouvent des satisfactions esthétiques dans l’aménagement de cespromenades, comme celle de Mitropolie, « où une allée bordée de deux rangsde tilleuls mène sur la colline », de Herãstrãu, « avec un café, des chaises, une clô-ture et une belle perspective », ou de Bãneasa (en fait, la « Chaussée ») avec « sonallée à quatre rangs d’arbres de deux côtés, une splendeur grâce à laquelle Bucarest


allait devancer de nombreuses villes de l’Europe. »26 De plus, à la différence debeaucoup d’autochtones sortant se promener, ils étaient à même d’apprécier lesperspectives sur la ville à partir des promenades situées sur les sommets descollines : « qu’on regarde de Bãneasa ou d’en haut de l’allée Mitropolie, onpeut dire de Bucarest a une perspective et une situation tellement belles et roman-tiques que mes yeux n’en ont jamais eu assez », affirmait Cipariu. À son tour,en visite sur la Colline Mitropolie, Bariþiu tiens à souligner : « je n’en ai pas euassez de passer mon temps dans ces lieux. On voit de là presque toute la ville danstoute sa beauté, avec tout ce qui l’entoure [...] ».27 Peu habitués au modèle devilles roumaines extra carpatiques, étendues, irrégulières, pleines de contrastes,mais charmantes, les deux voyageurs transylvains exprimaient sincèrement leuradmiration pour ce type de paysage urbain et pour le spectacle social citadin.

Le rythme de la promenade était très lent en partie à cause de l’affluencedes carrosses, mais de la nécessité de regarder la société aussi ou de faire de laconversation d’un carrosse à l’autre. Le paysage autour ou les monumentslongeant la promenade n’attiraient pas toujours l’attention du public, car celui-ci était plus préoccupé par le défilement de la société qui se déroulait dans cetespace. Les points centraux des promenades, vers lesquels se dirigeait la pro-cession de carrosses, étaient les ronds qui délimitaient soit un bout des tronçonsde promenade, par exemple le grand rond de la Chaussée Kiseleff, à Bucarest,soit la fin de la promenade, comme celle de Copou, à Iassy. Les carrosses tour-naient autour de ces ronds ou allaient en haut ou en bas tout au long de lapromenade, respectant d’habitude un seul sens. En sens inverse circulaientsoit les jeunes « coureurs », les terribles de l’époque, qui voulaient se mettreen évidence, soit les étrangers curieux, par exemple le patriote transylvainIoan Oros-Rusu, à Iassy en 1849.

Pendant qu’il se promenait en compagnie de son ami, Nicu Hurmuzaki, deCleopatra Russo et de la soeur d’Alecu Russo, qui était à cheval, de la mère decelle-ci et de leur hôte, Elena Sturdza, fille d’Eudoxiu Hurmuzaki, le jeunetransylvain découvre le rituel de la promenade et a société qui se promène,qu’il a lui-même d.crite dans ses mémoires : « Sur la colline, sur le côté droitde la promenade, bordée d’arbres, d’allées et de bancs pour s’asseoir, il y avait unefanfare militaire russe qui jouait, et autour de laquelle tournaient en cercle largeenviron 100 carrosses de plus beaux et luxueux, pleins de boyards et de dames,de plus, il y avait aussi un groupe de jeunes cavaliers [...]. Quand nous sommesarrivés au pied de la colline appelée [Copou], le groupe de jeunes cavaliers voyantCléopatra se sont envolés vers nous comme si’ils avaient voulu chasser un enne-mi puissant. Cléopatra en tête, ils retournaient aussi vite autour de la fanfare mili-taire russe, là où nous sommes arrivés dans nos carrosses par la suite et avons prisla file et commencé à tourner, au son de la musique, plus précisément nous cir-


culions tout autour de la fanfare. Le bord du cercle où circulaient les carrossesétait si large que nous ne pouvions pas bien voir les dames, alors que c’était lameilleure occasion pour admirer la beauté des dames et des messieurs de Iassy.J’ai proposé donc à Nicu Hurmuzaki : comme nous sommes étrangers, nouspourrions sortir de la file et aller dans le sens inverse [...]. Quelque temps plustard, quelques carrosses sont sortis de la file pour rentrer et nous avons fait lamême chose [...].28 Tout comme Bariþiu et Cipariu, ses compatriotes qui avaientvisité Bucarest une décennie avant, il semble que Ioan Oros-Rusu aussi ait étéému devant le spectacle de la société qui se promenait et le lendemain il y estallé tout seul pour avoir plus de liberté de mouvement.

Après plusieurs tours de promenade ou de rond en carrosse, les quelques-uns se promenaient à pied, « privilège jamais vu à Bucarest », affirme RichardKunisch en 1857, puisqu’au milieu du XIXe siècle dans la haute société, la marcheétait « défendue » en raison des convenances sociales sur le comportement enpublic. Seule « La Chaussée » était le lieu « où il est accepté d’aller à pied » si bienque « personne ne manque cette occasion dans une ville où il est impoli deparcourir à pied la plus courte distance. L’interdiction concerne surtout les femmesà cause du mauvais état des routes », continue Kunisch, rappelant la principaleraison pour laquelle la marche à pied était évitée par tous ceux qui possédaientun moyen de transport.29 Il reste à préciser qu’à l’époque la partie de la ChausséeKiseleff tout près du jardin Herãstrau, flanquée d’allées spéciales pour la pro-menade pédestre, était aménagée et entretenue depuis longtemps.

Contrairement à la « Chaussée » de Bucarest, la promenade de Copou n’of-frait pas encore de bonnes conditions pour la circulation pédestre. De plus, lepublic qui fréquentait la promenade était plus conservateur et distingué, seuleune minorité appréciait la marche à pied. La plupart préféraient « promenerson ennui » en carrosse, tout en affichant des attitudes nonchalantes ou étu-diées, fumant, faisant de la conversation, écoutant la musique, regardant et se lais-sant regarder.

Pour des raisons de commodité, la majorité se contentait de rester dans le car-rosse. La promenade était une scène – la référence au théâtre se dégage des sourcesde l’époque – où chacun avait le rôle d’acteur et de spectateur à la fois.30 La lec-ture, même partielle, du scénario ou de la chorégraphie de ce spectacle pour-rait mieux préciser les fonctions de représentation et de socialisation détenues parla promenade. Lorsque des centaines de carrosses défilent autour d’un repère quel-conque, c’est l’occasion d’observer tout le monde.31 « C’est le moment où nousfaisons notre analyse », précisait Mihail Kogãlniceanu dans sa description, quandil nous initiait au contexte des manifestations et des interactions structurant lasociabilité de la promenade : « Monsieur A. regarde madame V. ; le brave offi-cier S., gloire de la milice et terreur des civils, court en driska de Ivanuska après


la voiture de monsieur G.; mademoiselle E. s’aperçoit que son équipage n’est pasaussi beau que le carrosse de madame F. [...]. La promenade et les observationscontinuent jusqu’à la tombée de la nuit, jusqu’à ce que le canon [...] de lacaserne militaire fasse boum, boum. »32 Nous y décelons quelques directionsqui devraient être explorées.

Tout d’abord, la promenade était un lieu de représentation publique, d’éta-lage du statut social, de la fortune surtout, tout en offrant une large perspecti-ve visuelle permettant à la société de se passer en revue. Tout était mesuré,pesé, jugé dès toilettes, bijoux et équipages aux attitudes, gestes et paroles. Lepremier élément rendu évident, c’était l’équipage, en fait, la mesure, par valeuret qualité, du prestige social du propriétaire (Fig. 2 et 3). Une concurrence redou-table entre les boyards qui se vantaient de leurs équipages engendrait toutesorte d’excentricités; par exemple, l’équipage anglais d’Anica Lãþescu, fille de l’het-man Toader Balº, était la risée de ses contemporains. Devenue « anglomane »sous l’influence d’une gouvernante anglaise de sa soeur, elle avait adopté le « styleanglais » pour l’organisation de la maison. Les mêmes règles s’appliquaient surl’aménagement des écuries et de son personnel : les carrosses, les harnais, leslivrées, tout portait l’empreinte anglaise. La dame a obligé même ses cocherstziganes à adopter le jargon de leurs pairs anglais. De surcroît, raconte RaduRosetti, « madame Anica était très fière d’entendre ses cochers criant en anglais ».Il n’en est pas moins vrai que la satisfaction de la dame était interrompue pardes accès de colère quand les gitans délaissaient l’anglais pour leur langue mater-nelle. Elle les apostrophait : « Parle anglais, corneille! ».33

Une autre extravagance concernant les équipages et qu’au milieu du XIXe siècleseulement les grands boyards se permettent était le soldat Albanais, apparitionen même temps exotique et source de prestige pour son maître. C’était une « espè-ce » en voie de disparition possédant un rôle symbolique, mais très important.Par conséquent, ces soldats n’acceptaient pas de travailler pour n’importe qui.Leur réputation de combattants braves et la fidélité envers leur maître, le cos-tume riche et pittoresque, excessivement garni avec de l’or, selon Kunisch34, denombreuses armes chères qu’ils portaient à la ceinture, la tenue fière, l’ait mar-tial, tout cela attirait l’attention des passants et imposait le respect, ce qui fai-sait grandir le prestige de se son maître. Par conséquent, à une époque où la dyna-mique sociale était de plus en plus accentuée, ils représentaient, en dehors d’autresmarques de statut, moins évidentes ou connues, un « blason » de la noblessede sang, très visible dans l’espace public.

Autour de l’équipage s’est donc constituée, sur un court laps de temps etpar émulation de la vanité des boyards, une entière imagerie de la représenta-tion publique de la hiérarchie sociale. La provenance, le type, le coloris, les paruresles la carrosse, les symboles héraldiques, réels ou fantaisistes, mettaient en évi-


dence certaines prétentions sociales, appuyées aussi par le nombre, la race, la pro-venance, la couleur de chevaux attelés au carrosse. D’autres éléments du messa-ge social ressortaient de l’ethnie et des habits du cocher, du nombre des domes-tiques en arrière du carrosse aussi, quand il y en avait.

Dans la recette du succès mondain se trouvait un autre élément du statut :les habits. C’était un indicateur du bon goût, de la richesse et, implicitement,de la situation sociale. Où est-ce qu’on pouvait étaler les plus récents et specta-culaires vêtements, sinon dans l’espace public? « Copou est aussi l’arène où nosdames, petites et grandes, jeunes et vieilles, belles ou laides, rivalisent de splen-deur des toilettes »35, soulignait Alecu Russo, en indiquant une autre fonctionde la promenade, celle de podium public pour les défilés de mode quotidiens. Ony présentait beaucoup de pièces vestimentaires et d’accessoires les plus neufs, nou-vellement arrivés de l’étranger, pour lesquels on dépensait des sommes énormes.Les femmes portaient des toilettes de bal étincelantes et des bijoux qui frappaientpar leur nombre et valeur. Les hommes se pavanaient autant, en costumes cherset élégants ou en uniformes militaires de gala. Tout était ostensiblement affi-ché, malgré la poussière des routes et la surprise des étrangers qui n’avaient pasl’habitude de voir de tels vêtements dans la rue.

Les contacts interhumains facilités par la promenade ne se limitent pas auniveau visuel; cela implique aussi la communication verbale, ce qui sous-tend unedimension sociale supplémentaire : la socialisation. Sur la promenade, on fai-sait connaissance, on établissait et entretenait des relations de société. Quoiquela majorité des promeneurs se soient connus, il ne manquait pas les occasionsd’apprendre des nouvelles ou de rencontrer les gens nouveaux. Tous ceux qui reve-naient après une absence, les provinciaux ou les étrangers réussissaient d’habitudeà polariser l’attention. Étant donné la curiosité et l’hospitalité des boyards indigènes,le fait que la promenade soit un espace plus tolérant que les salons, les étran-gers se faisaient remarquer davantage et accepter plus vite par la haute société.

La promenade constituait aussi un des espaces préférés par les jeunes qui,après l’adolescence, faisaient leur entrée dans la société. Comme observait AlecuRusso, « [...] Copou est le théâtre où le jeune débute, sentimental, flemmarddans une calèche, l’éternelle cigarette entre les lèvres, la main molle sur lacanne élégante, montrant aux occupants des autres carrosses son premier pan-talon, fait chez monsieur Ortigier, couturier de Paris, le chapeau viennois dumagasin Mecouli et co. ou des frères Bogus, les soi-disant chapeaux de Paris, surcommande ».36 Tout comme les salons ou le théâtre, la promenade offrait auxjeunes adultes une place où ils savouraient leurs premiers moments d’indépen-dance envers leurs parents, ils exerçaient leurs habiletés sociales et se faisaientune réputation mondaine. En plus, la promenade leur favorisait les rencontresamoureuses et les jeux érotiques. Copou, par exemple, était considéré propice


pour les rencontres sentimentales grâce à l’affluence de ces amoureux, mais ily a eu des événements qui ont alimenté souvent les conversations et la cause-rie dans la haute société. Par exemple, il arrivé qu’une jeune Française de laclasse moyenne, surnommée Rose Pompon, ait conquiert le coeur d’un fils deboyard, Iancu Ghica, fils du prince Grigore Al. Ghica. Comme dans un autrecas, celui de Grigore Sturdza, le jeune prince a épousé la belle Française, contrele gré de ses parents.37 Même si la fin n’a pas été heureuse, l’épisode roman-tique – un parmi d’autres mentionnés par les sources documentaires – démontreque la promenade est en égale mesure un espace de perméabilité sociale et unlieu de choix pour les rencontres galantes, un lieu où l’amour faisait fi desdifférences sociales, ethniques ou des moeurs de l’époque, puisqu’à part lesamours innocentes, on constate l’existence des relations extraconjugales. Surle fond d’un laxisme des moeurs, que les uns critiquaient verbalement et d’autresencourageaient par un libertinage excessif, la promenade constituait un milieupropice pour la multiplication des liaisons sentimentales, même pour les gensmariés. Alors, sortir en promenade avec sa maîtresse était une pratique courante,même chez les membres de la famille princière, car la discrétion n’était pasune qualité de la société indigène.

La promenade était un espace de divertissement : on écoutait de la musiquemilitaire, dans l’allée ou aux alentours, on faisait des courses en carrosse ou entraîneau (Fig. 4) – même en canots, s’il y avait un lac – , des courses hippiquesorganisées ou des cavalcades, des concours de tir, etc.

*

C OMME ÉLÉMENT d’architecture urbaine, la promenade aménagée est appa-rue tard dans l’espace roumain, après 1830, suite au programme de moder-nisation urbaine initié par les Règlements Organiques. De ce point de

vue, la modernisation des promenades est un long processus. Vu son aspect social,sous la forme d’un agrément traditionnel – la sortie en carrosse à la périphériede la ville ou dans les espaces nonaménagés –, la promenade a été vite appréciéepar le public, étant la scène – la ressemblance avec le théâtre vient des sources del’époque – d’un spectacle quotidien, sur laquelle chacun était acteur et specta-teur à la fois. Les équipages, les toilettes, l’éducation, le prestige social y étalé abou-tissaient au succès mondain. Les relations amoureuses y commençaient ou mou-raient. On y socialisait. Bref, la vie publique s’y consommait de façon intense.

Nous considérons que la promenade, ayant répondu à de multiples exi-gences sociales, que nous venons de tracer, a été l’espace urbain le plus attrayantpour les élites de la première moitié du XIXe siècle. D’autres recherches sur cesujet et le décodage des implications sociales dues à la fréquentation de la pro-


menade pourraient amener des conclusions intéressantes sur la genèse de l’es-prit public et sur la formation d’une conduite publique moderne dans la sociétéroumaine.

Traduit du roumain par MANUELA TIPURIÞÃ�

Notes

1. Richard Kunisch, Bucureºti ºi Stambul. Schiþe din Ungaria, România ºi Turcia, Bucarest,2000, p. 82-89 et 120-123.

2. Voir le chapitre sur les jardins de Bucarest dans l’ouvrage de George Potra, DinBucureºtii de ieri, I, Bucarest, 1990, p. 304-322.

3. Ibid, p. 348-362.4. Kunisch, p. 82-83.5. Mihail Kogãlniceanu, Tainele inimei. Scrieri literare ºi istorice, Bucarest, 1987, p.

64-68; Alecu Russo, Iassy et ses habitants en 1840, dans Alecu Russo, Scrieri, Bucarest,1908, p. 251-252.

6. Kogãlniceanu, p. 65-66.7. Russo, p. 251-252; Victor Papacostea, Un observator prusian în Þãrile Române

acum un veac, Bucarest, 1942, p. 91. 8. « On dit que le Département des Travaux Publics aurait la mauvaise idée d’aména-

ger sur la colline de Copou une promenade à l’instar des Champs Élysée et du Prater ».Kogãlniceanu, p. 66.

9. Documente privitoare la istoria economicã a României. Oraºe ºi târguri (1776–1861),Moldova, Séria A, II, Bucarest, 1960, doc. 238, p. 362-363.

10. Manolachi Drãghici, Istoria Moldovei pe timp de 500 de ani pânã în zilele noastre, 2,Iassy, 1857, Constantin Mihãescu-Gruiu, ed., Bucarest, 1999, p. 337.

11. Kogãlniceanu, p. 66-67.12. Vasile Netea, « Timotei Cipariu ºi George Bariþiu cãlãtori prin Þara Româneascã

în 1836. Note pe marginea unui text inedit », Studii. Revistã de istorie (Bucarest),1958, XI, 1, p. 130.

13. George Potra, Bucureºtii la mijlocul secolului XIX. Impresiile germanului W. Derblich,Bucarest, 1941, p. 3.

14. G. Sion, Suvenire contimpurane, Bucarest, 2000, p. 331.15. Par exemple, vers 1838-1841, Alecu Sturdza avait sur son domaine de Miclãuºeni,

dans la région de Roman, où il résidait en fait la plupart du temps, une diligence àcinq chevaux, une vieille charrette, un droska couvert, un vieux droska découvert, unvieux droska sans bâche. De plus, « il tenait deux cochers. Dans ses écuries, il yavait deux coureurs noirs de harnais, deux trotteurs de harnais, deux trotteurs d’é-quitation et 11 coursiers ». Costin Meriºca, « Organizarea moºiei Miclãuºeni ºi a vieþiide la conac în deceniile 4 ºi 5 ale secolului trecut », Revista de Istorie Socialã (Iassy),1997-1998, II-III, p. 82.


16. Netea, p. 130.17. Selon des permis de construction délivrés à Bucarest, l’écuyer tranchant Gheorghe

Neculescu, de la Rue Caliþii, possédait une écurie pour 6 chevaux et un hangarpour 3 carrosses. Les mêmes chiffres sont mentionnés en 1839 dans le cas de l’é-chanson Matache Piersiceanu, Rue Mogoºoaia. Un certain Vasilichi Constantin, dansrue Beilicului, avait en 1846 une écurie pour 6 chevaux et un hangar pour deuxcarrosses, plus une chambre pour les cochers. Florian Georgescu, « Regimul construcþii-lor în Bucureºti în deceniile IV–V din secolul al XIX-lea », Bucureºti. Materiale de isto-rie ºi muzeografie, 1967, 5, p. 48-49.

18. «Pagini inedite despre Bucureºtii anului 1833», Revista Arhivelor (Bucarest), 1969,1, p. 274.

19. Papacostea, p. 73 et 95.20. Jean A. Vaillant, La Roumanie..., III, Paris, 1844, p. 96.21. Pagini inedite despre Bucureºtii..., p. 274.22. Kunisch, p. 82-83; Ulysse de Marsillac, Guide du voyageur à Bucarest, Bucarest, [1876],

p. 56.23. Pagini inedite despre Bucureºtii..., p. 274.24. Gh. Bezviconi, Cãlãtori ruºi în Moldova ºi Muntenia, Bucarest, 1947, p. 314.25. Netea, p. 121.26. Ibid., p. 129.27. Ibid.28. Ion Ranca, «Capitala Moldovei la 1849 în viziunea unui memorialist paºoptist

ardelean», Revista Arhivelor, 1977, 3, p. 307-308.29. Kunisch, p. 83.30. L’ambiance de spectacle est évidente, comme le notent les observateurs étrangers :

« Il existe toujours un peu de décoration ; le luxe est d’autant plus remarqué qu’onne s’y attend pas. La simplicité est rare ; chaque chose produit son effet, tout commedans les tableaux maniéristes et le regard du passant n’y découvre rien, car il perçoitl’ensemble en tant que scène théâtrale ». Aurélie Ghika, La Valachie moderne, Paris,1850, p. 57-58.

31. « La Chaussée offrait le spectacle d’un grand salon et pour l’observateur un champriche ». Kunisch, p. 83.

32. Kogãlniceanu, p. 66-67.33. Radu Rosetti, Amintiri. I. Ceam auzit de la alþii, Iassy, 1921, p. 166.34. Kunisch, p. 78-79. Une image similaire est décrite, vers 1876, par Ulysse de Marsillac :

« L’agent politique de la France a encore comme porte-drapeau un vieux soldat alba-nais qui, les jours de fête, porte un costume de velours rouge richement garni avecde l’or : assis sur la voiture, il étale un magnifique arsenal d’armes en or et argent àsa ceinture ». De Marsillac, p. 33.

35. Russo, p. 252.36. Ibid.37. Vasile Panopol, Pe uliþele Iaºului, Bucarest, 2000, p. 139.


AbstractThe Social Role of the Promenade in Bucharest and Iasi

(the First Half of the 19th Century)

In the first half of the 19th century the most important public spaces in Iasi and Bucharest – thecapitals of Moldavia and Wallachia principalities –, were promenades because, excepting fashio-nable salons, the elite social life was concentrated there. The finest and the most frequented pro-menades were Kiseleff Avenue, in Bucharest, and Copou Avenue, in Iaºi. The promenade has beenthe public scene for a complex social show, where everyone was actor and spectator in the sametime. The promenade stimulated social interaction and it contributed to a public display ofsocial identity. Because it responds to multiple social demands, we believe that the promenadewas the urban area having the most attraction power of the Romanian elites in the first half ofthe 19th century.

Keywordspublic space, promenade, social identity, Romanian elites


IN THE traditional Romanian society, the lineage, origin and longevity ofthe family were of great importance, conferring the “right” and “primacy” fornobility, higher social acceptance and chances for an easier and faster integra-tion within the “nobility class” and, in time, even within the country’s “noblesse.”For those who were named boyars, “the origin of their family” was very impor-tant as concerns the community’s perception regarding the social status of thenew boyar and his family, legitimizing the ascension of those originating from“old Moldavians, mazili”1, meaning from ruined boyars2 or from “old mazili andcaptains, free, land-owning peasants (rãzeºi),” meaning old families, belong-ing to an autochthonous lineage, even though they did not have boyars amongtheir ancestors3. In exchange, the new boyars “who rose from the mass to losetheir origin” or who came from “strangers,” “foreigners by lineage and by place,”were included among the “upstarts” and the “arrivistes” by most of the boyarsby lineage, regardless of the rank they managed to acquire4. The “low-class”descent did not include many of the land-owning peasants who were the noblestof the peasants, but at the same time the least noble of the boyars”5. Free peas-ants’ “nobility,” who claimed the existence of noble ancestors, often withattested genealogic documents, elaborated to protect their lands and to reducethe taxes6, and sometimes only with the support of oral, local traditions7, gavethe land-owning peasant the chance to take advantage of life circumstances inorder to “rise to nobility,” provided that he were the individual owner of a “cho-sen part” of the land, of “immobile fortune” and the “protégée” (“the man”)of a boyar within the Divan. Iordache Murguleþ, although a boyar, he was proudto “have a good time in the peasant style,” reproaching to his sister-in-law Aniþa

Nobility and Power in Moldavia at the Beginning

of the 19th Century

CRISTIAN PLOSCARU


that she and her husband Constantin Murguleþ got used to “nobility leisure andcould not give it up”8.

The only ones who did not serve a “master,” still a boyar, when they didnot work within the Principality’s administration (officials changed every year,and many boyars were “left outside” for one year or more), were the boyars with-in the regional and departmental administration, belonging to families whohad continuous great “princely services,” sometimes even in the Divan, and whoselineage and “nobility status” seniority inherited from the parents did not allowthem to take the service and the protection of a “master,” a boyar like them9. Thenumber of families whose members did regular services for a “master” was rathergreat in each Principality, meaning several dozens, some of which included, accord-ing to the formal criterion of the high office, within the “first class,” and oth-ers, the majority, incorporated in “the second class,” temporarily or on a long-term basis, as the boyars didn’t have access anymore to the functions withinthe Divan, from vel ban and vel agã (Moldavia), and vel clucer and vel paharnic(Walachia) upwards. Often, these families, “the great families” within the socialelite were generically called “the privileged class,” excluding the low or newerboyars, the mazili and the privilegheþi, exactly because the members of the “priv-ileged class” did not have another “master” besides the prince, doing only “prince-ly services,” regardless of them belonging to the “first class” or to the “secondclass.” While talking about the abuses committed in the administration of thePrincipalities while he was a child, during the reign of Grigore IV Ghica, NicolaeCreþulescu talked about “the self will and arbitrariness of lower and higher author-ities” within the departments (ispravnici, sameºi, zapci, zlotaºi, etc.), but “like-wise in the case of the privileged class”, meaning the families within the social elite,and the “nobility” by lineage within the departments10.

On the basis of this difference, observable in the daily attitude of the boyarstowards one another, V.F. Malinovski, the Russian consul at Iaºi, made a dis-tinction between the “local boyars” (in other words, “boyars by lineage”) and“other ranks or functions,” introducing within the last category those who hadlocal functions (not “the Greeks”), but who were not acknowledged as true“nobles” by the nobility orders”11. In Bessarabia, Filip F. Wiegel made the sameclear differentiation between only “seven or eight families – Sturdza, Balº, Rosetti,Donici, Krupenski, Paladi, Catargi and Râºcanu, “who “descend from Moldavianboyars” and “the rest of around 80 so-called noble families,” who “were the ser-vants [in fact, clerks – o.n.] of boyars”12. Among the eight families abovemen-tioned, Sturdza, Balº, Roset, Paladi and Catargiu had belonged to the “first class”Moldavian boyars, but the members of the Donici, Crupenschi and Râºcanu fam-ilies were constantly included in the “second class” category13, and only seldoma boyar within the family managed to have his way into the “first class”14.


Nevertheless, Wiegel identified a veritable social rupture between the threefamilies of “genuine” boyars and the rest of the boyars in Bessarabia acknowl-edged by the Russian in the new province, the latter descending from “boyars’clerks,” from “delegates, entrepreneurs and [...] administrators” of the landsbelonging to genuinely “noble” and society-acknowledged nobility lineageMoldavian boyars15.

For example, younger or older boyars within the Cuza, Vârnav, Miclescu,Greceanu, Crupenschi, Donici, Cananãu, Baºotã, Buhuº families (Moldavia),almost completely excluded from the functions within the Divan towards thebeginning of the 19th century, given the history and the tradition of high “prince-ly services” of their “parents” and their “ancestors,” were not allowed to tres-pass their inherited social condition, becoming “clerks” for the boyars within theDivan. The social status and condition of these boyar families within the region-al administration (þinutaºe) were generally considered by the social history papersas rather close to the new boyars and to the low boyars (boiernaºi), to the maziliand the lineages, forming together the so-called “secondary boyarship” of thePrincipalities. Nevertheless, the low boyars, the mazili and the lineages, togeth-er with the privilegheþi, traditionally performed services of “clerks” also on thelands of these “boyars by lineage” of within the regional administration, not onlyfor the boyars within the Divan, belonging to the social elite16.

The boyarship within the regional administration who only had “princely serv-ices” had a clearly higher social status and condition than the newer and thelow boyarship, even though, in numerous cases, the high office criterion said“otherwise,” the nobility ranks of certain boyars within the second category hav-ing similar or even higher ranks in some cases. In 1803, Vasile Hermeziu,Ioniþã Gane and Constantin Adam, descending from low boyars from the regionof Suceava, advanced and became while Iordache Cananãu, Iordache Balº andIoniþã Vârnav were only pitar, collector of duties on spirits (cãminar), andsteward (stolnic)17, respectively, very close or inferior ranks to the abovementionedones, the social status difference being dictated by the family lineage, ensuringto the last a higher position, of genuine “nobility,” despite the rather low rank,explicable because they were young. This situation, specific to the internal hier-archy of the boyarship, according to the social tradition reference points, was stillalive in the memory of Alecu Cantacuzino, descendant of the Moldavian Deleni,who recalled that “the sons of those families of patricians [the great families –o.n.] when they had to start the public service school,” while they were young,their “rank was taken for that of their clients,” meaning of the boyars within“lower” families, but older, and with a publicly-acknowledged inferior status18.

In these circumstances, incorporating the two categories – noble families bylineage, within the regional administration, on one hand, and newer, as well as low


boyars, on the other – within the structure of a relatively unitary, so-called “sec-ondary boyarship,” by taking into account only the high office criterion, doesnot respect at all the particularities of the social order and organization of theRomanian Principalities, and the characteristics of the hierarchical conceptionspecific to the autochthonous boyarship. While disrespecting the formal criterionof the high office, social reality turned out to be far more complex, reorderingthe boyars within the “first class” and those within “the second class” into anoth-er social and order of power. But, even more importantly, according to other cri-teria, such as family tradition, including the continuity of “great princely servic-es,” the acknowledged longevity of the “lineage” also played a crucial role.

Between the families of the „boyarship by lineage, within the regional admin-istration” and those of the social elite, the preoccupation for the lineage, forthe longevity of the families and the continuity of high functions generated a truelegitimacy competition, of “justifying,” placing the criterion of longevity and that ofthe origin, the “nobility,” above the formal and often contested, but institutionalizedcriterion of the high office. Within these disputes, more and more visible startingwith 1790, accentuated after the changes introduced by the Russians in Bessarabiaoffered a model in this matter, the boyarship by lineage, within the regional admin-istration, tries to assert its legitimacy of noble origin in comparison with theboyars by birth of the social elite, contesting the longevity and higher “nobili-ty” of the families within the autochthonous social elite, providing papers andwritten proofs of “nobility” from the ruling Divan, on the basis of certain “noblelineages” and ancient “documents” belonging to the family. Far from being “abrood of new riches,” as many of the low boyars, this boyarship by lineage, with-in the regional administration, by combining members within the two firststeps of “nobility,” proud of its longevity, was, on one side, hostile to the “newriches” boyarship, recently risen to “nobility,” and, on the other hand, it contestedthe monopole of the “country’s pillars” over the “nobility” and the power with-in the State19.

These families had cultivated, starting with the last years of the 18th century,the image of great boyarship by lineage, noble by birth, as the “country’s pillars.”The increasing number of solicitations regarding this kind of “documents” and“written proofs,” claimed by various boyars within this category from the rul-ing Divan is the result of these preoccupations, but also of the Russian influence,who had suggested them an efficient method of getting a document-attested“nobility” comparable to that of “great families.” The authorities of the Empirehad asked for the validation papers concerning the nobility from most of theMoldavian and Walachia boyars in Russia immediately after the Peace of Iaºi(1792), and, at least in Moldavia, there was an increase in the number of prince-ly documents and books on the subject. Following the example of the boyars who


had “emigrated” to Russia, the noble families by lineage, within the regionaladministration, started to see these documents and written papers as means tofight the attempts of the social elite to self-nominate as unique “nobility” ofthe country, with the right of nobility, given the continuity of the “great line-ages” in the functions of the Divan. Costandin Tãutu, “the son of Toader Tãutu,”belonging to a family of great lineage, much envied at the time20, but deposedand having only low services, “barely known among the low boyars”21, got in1793 from Prince Mihail Suþu an “exemption paper,” on the basis of old “prince-ly books and proofs,” confirming that his “lineage goes back to Ioan Tãutu,who was High Chancellor, being related to great boyars and distinguishedfamilies”22. He elaborated that “old genealogical tree” that Ioan Murariu dis-covered at the State Archives in Botoºani, without being able to date it. That “lin-eage,” with around 100 persons, ends with Costandin, the son of Toader Tãutuand had among the ascendants relatives of “great boyars and distinguishedfamilies”: Boul, Moþoc, Paladi, Cantacuzino, Sturdza, and Turculeþ23.

In 1815, the Racoviþã boyars, with only low functions at the time, got adocument attesting that “their lineage [...] is of Moldavian boyars by birth [...]proven to be great patriots”24, and Alecu Calimach (autochthonous) received adiploma acknowledging him “all the privileges of the nobility”25. In a Triodionoffered by Constantin Vârnav to the church of Bârzeºti there was a note regard-ing the family of Vârnav, “originating in Moldavia, two hundred years ago”26.Toma and Sãndulache Stamatin claimed to be descendants of the great familyof the Movileºti27, Iordache Drãghici of the Walachia family Drãghici, relatedto the Cantacuzinos28, and the Sioneºti “fabricated” a glorious, but fantasist geneal-ogy29. This practice, which became a habit, did not disappear during the regu-latory period. In 1833, Dimitrie Duca received an “authenticating notice,” notfrom the State, but from various boyars, attesting that he is the son of the deceasedban Pavãl Duca, and nephew of Gheorghe Duca, nobleman from Bessarabia30.

As far as they are concerned, “the great noble families” by birth attemptedat also assimilating a “nobility” that was not accessible to other families, claim-ing princely ascendances, Romanian or foreign, and the ongoing continuity in“making sacrifices” and in “services” of the land, mostly concerning the high func-tions of the Divan belonging to “our fathers and forefathers.” The claims ofthe social elite within both Principalities had a relative historical basis and, maybeeven more importantly, they are acknowledged in this way by the traditionalRomanian society of the beginning of the 19th century31. Besides the continu-ity, the “siraua” of great families, “related to the princes at involved in the rul-ing process,” as distinctive element of “nobility,” we also had the idea that thenobility of these ruling lineages would be validated by the “sacrifices” of theirancestors32.


On the other hand, the great noble families by birth insisted upon beingdifferentiated from the boyarship by lineage outside the social elite, appealingto those reference points of the autochthonous traditions and administration prac-tices meant to certify their superior “nobility” and to confer a historical “justifi-cation” of their claimed monopole over the great functions within the Divan, usingtheir influence at the court and their power over the ruling prince. As regardsthem having almost all great functions within the Divan, it is true that “we aremaybe one of the sole [of the few – o.n.] countries in Europe, where fromfather to son (e.g, at Balºi, at Bãleni, etc.) there have been he same functionsfor over seven generations (vel magistrate, vel chancellor, etc.)”33, but, in com-parison to the first half of the 18th century, only at the end of it and at thebeginning of the 19th century did the great autochthonous „noble families” bybirth (Bãlºeºtii, Roseteºtii, Sturdzeºtii, Cantacuzinii, Ghiculeºtii, Pãlãdeºtii andCatargii in Moldavia, Brâncovenii, Bãlãcenii, Bãlenii, Goleºtii, Ghiculeºtii, Filipeºtii,Vãcãreºtii and Creþuleºtii in Walachia) manage to impose a true “oligarchic” mono-pole over the high functions within the Divan (ban, chancellor, High Steward,treasurer, hetman and aga), repeatedly and significantly called “services of the land”34.While enumerating the “great families,” Ion Tanoviceanu righteously assertedthat “in order to play a [political – o.n.] role in Moldavia at the end of the pre-vious century [the 18th – o.n.] and at the beginning of this century one had tobe a Rosetti, Balº, Cantacuzino, Sturdza, Ghica, Paladi or Catargi,” formingthe veritable social elite of the country, regarding of the services provided at a cer-tain point35.

In these conditions, marked by the erosion of the social distinction ensuredby their ranks, the “great autochthonous families” tried to acquire a legitimacybased upon the representations of the tradition regarding its “oligarchic” polit-ical primacy and the outstanding power in the State and the society. The dif-ference from the previous period was that, since the reforms of ConstantinMavrocordat and the practices related to the process of becoming a boyar,instituted by the Fanariot princes, one could not have the title of boyar with-out a princely decree, even though he was a landowner and that the “commu-nity” acknowledged his inherited “nobility. There was an exception for the sonsof the great noble families whose lineage was highly renown, and they hadcontinuity regarding the functions within the Divan, with the honorific title ofchancellor or chamberlain even since they were very young, “from their birth,”without a confirmatory decree from the chancellery of the prince. In a study whichstarted the discussion on this social history and genealogy matter, AlexandruPerietzianu-Buzãu came to the conclusion that „the so-called low chancellor [s.a.]was [...] was given at birth to all the sons of low chamberlains, meaning to allthe nephews of a boyar, without a confirmation from the chancellery of the


prince”36. We can easily see that, in order to get this honorific title, the son of aboyar had to be at least the third generation of boyars in his family – a mini-mal condition confirmed by the society in the light of a tradition to be integratedin the “boyarship by lineage”37.

Interested in introducing a clear distinction between the autochthonous socialelite and the rest of the boyarship by lineage, the top noble families by birthof both Principalities have looked for other titles for their sons before they turned18, with higher symbolical meaning, according to the tradition of each RomanianPrincipality. Starting with the end of the 18th century, several very youngMoldavians within the Balº and Sturdza families appear with the title of velspatharus, vel magistrate or vel treasurer. Without many direct testimony of themhaving received these great ranks “by birth,” the “cocoons” are mentionedwith that function, before they turn 18, “at that time [...] 25 years old,” and theminors could not get such functions in reality38. Alecu Balº is attested as vel treas-urer in 179239, while he was in fact far too young to have such a function40,that his father, “the old treasurer [my italics] Iordache Balº, great and strongboyar”41 “left him as inheritance,” as title, for all his life. The youngest, IancuBalº received the title of vel spatharus, before having the first function of halè,vel comis in 1812, inferior function to that of spatharus42, but, once he moved toBesssarabia, Iancu Balº gave up on his youth title, preferring the more famousone of chamberlain of tsar Alexander I43. Iordache Bãlºucã, the son of vel chan-cellor Constantin Balº Ciuntu had the title of vel treasurer in 1801, when he wasonly 25 and before becoming vel spatharus in 1812, inferior function to thatof vel treasurer, but effective this time44. Costache Sturdza, the son of thedreaded and peevish treasurer Sãndulache Sturdza had the title of vel spatharuswhen he wasn’t even 20, in 1809 and before receiving any hale function45, andAlexandru Sturdza, the son of vel chancellor Mihail Sturdza, the head of theSturdzeºti “folk music band” around 1800, had all his life the title of treasur-er, even long before he had ever occupied this function, during the Turko-Russianwar (1828-1829)46. In Walachia the titles given to the sons of boyars by birthwere far more diverse, as the old functions of vel paharnic, vel clucer, vel stolnichave remained within the Divan, keeping their symbolical value, unlike theMoldavian case Before the introduction of this trend, the future great banConstantin Nãsturel was during his early youth “chamberlain, as any boyar’sson”47, but his son, Radu Nãsturel Herescu, “the hunched” (1750-1874) receivedanother title “at birth,” that of vel paharnic48, unlike the “deposed” descen-dants of another son of the abovementioned ban. ªerban Nãsturel’s children,who changed their names in the monastery into Macarie, Stoica and Ion Nãsturelhave continued to wear “by birth” the title of “low chamberlain,” “low chan-cellor,” respectively.


Conserving the fortune of the orphan “cocoons” within the “great families”started to preoccupy more and more the Walachian nobles by birth, while thepassion for luxury and the “plague” of playing cards had cancelled the “inheri-tance” rights of some of the boyars within the social elite. “In order to preventthe disappearance of noble houses” out of “children’s fault [...] as they are oldand still spenders, as some of the great noble houses have perished,” the Divanof Ion Caragea elaborated a “report to the prince” on August 15, 1814, request-ing the prohibition for boyars’ sons “without tutors” of their parents’ fortune,“even if they are married,” “to borrow [...] or to make business” with the mer-chants within the country, without “permission” from the “superior clergy andwith their signatures”49. In a report of the following year “the superior clergyby birth” for the “sumptuousness of the crews [of the boyars’ carriages – o.n.]to be limited according to each class, rank and position” (my italics) of the boyars,who give in to luxury according to the fortune, without taking into full accountthe tradition and the boyars’ “good manners”50. These social differentiation prac-tices applied by the boyarship of the Walachian social elite triggered the reac-tion of “some young boyars [...] unhappy [...] about giving certain titles to boyars’sons and insisted for these functions to be abrogated or for them to have the samefunctions” (my italics)51. As it can be easily seen, we were talking here about ranks,not about effective functions, and about eliminating the practice of givingthese titles only to certain boyars’ sons, within the families of the social elite, andnot about eliminating the respective functions. The regulatory legislation wasto enforce this social differentiation practice, based upon the political power ofthe boyars by birth. In February 1835, The project was established the ranksaccording to the functions proposed to the Moldavian Administrative Assemblysuffered an “alteration,” after the idea of chamberlain Costin Catargiu, who askedfor „young sons of the great boyars who will win through their learning and will getdiplomas [...] to be received [directly – o.n.] into the sixth class [of ranks – o.n.],”meaning that of cupbearer, steward, and delegate, while the sons of low boyarshad to get into each “class” at one time, the first being the ninth class, that ofºãtrari and jitniceri52.

Until the years of the autochthonous ruling, the complicated social andpolitical practices of preserving the best social position possible, of differentiat-ing from other “nobility” categories have strictly followed the horizon of “fam-ily structures,” and the sources do not offer the idea or even the thought of a “classidentity,” belonging to social „macro-groups,” as the historiographic understandingof the “great boyarship” and the “secondary boyarship.” Such a division intosocial “classes” was not familiar at the time for the traditional social system, andthe “rise” to nobility of “lower” families did not imply the “equality” of privi-leges and prestige, was not the expression of an “equality spirit,” but it meant


exactly the opposite, a differentiation, climbing the social “hierarchy,” the essen-tial stake being the prestige, the acknowledgment, which, “inherited” by the chil-dren, integrated the whole family into a social and “power” universe. If in theRomanian society at the turn of the century we can sport a social “communityof interests” which could be transposed or, why not, balanced against at the polit-ical level, the sourced indicate two such “groups” or “identities” – the “great fam-ilies” of each Principality, the „noble families by lineage” within the regional admin-istration departments), who had an “internal political struggle” in order toconsolidate their prestige and their “power” in the society and in the State, butwho, in fact, constituted up to twenty families in each Principality, the rest ofthe boyarship playing a secondary role, given their positions of subordinates ofthe higher boyars, their “masters,” to whom they swore “faith” and “obedience”in exchange for „their “protection” and “enrichment.” Until the years of the organ-ic regulations, the political confrontation took place within the great boyarship bylineage, opposing those that the sources call “the country’s pillars” (their fami-lies) to certain “rebels” from the great families within the regional administration,who, almost with no exceptions, had among their grandparents or ancestorspeople with great functions within the Divan, and they received a serious hit intheir interests after the constitution (around 1800) of what the testimonies call“the magnates’ system” or that of “the great families.” Fro the perspective of thesocial origin of the “National Party,” the conclusion directs the investigation towardsstudying the solidarities and the social links (including the family), and towardsthe subsequent political loyalties, with reference to these families, re-evaluating therole of a “bourgeoisie” or of a “peasantry boyarship,” considered as one of themost important, inside of each an “egalitarian spirit” seems to have been promoted,as social fundament of constituting the National Party.

During the regulatory period, the great noble families by birth opposed thetradition of the “nobility system” of the previous period, with its social pres-tige symbols (the beard, the mantle, the canes, the height of the hat – calpac, kiss-ing the hand and the margins of the hat – iºlic, etc.), to the administrative hier-archy of the ranks imposed by the organic ruling, which laughed at these old“good habits.” Worried of the great number of new boyars among the “employ-ee” in the administration and the justice, “new people” without noble originsor nobles by lineage, the great boyars claimed the inclusion within the “nobleclass” of certain clerks that they had previously despised and called “upstarts.”A testimony signed by metropolitan Veniamin Costache and by some great boyarsby birth reads that the magistrates, the border clerks “since the old days” in“our Moldavian territory,” had belonged to the “nobility system” and that “theywere entitled to wear beards in order to be recognised, and that they shouldalso be allowed to wear canes, in order to take part in the Divan in matters of


the borders [my italics],” being mostly “known as boyars’ sons”53. The signers(chancellor Dimitrie Sturdza, chancellor Constantin Cantacuzino [Paºcanu],Costache Conachi – chancellor and knight, Alexandru Ghica – chancellor andknight, Neculai Canta – chancellor and knight, Costachi Balº – chancellor andknight, treasurer Iordache Ghica, treasurer Alecu Sturdza, magistrate IordacheBalº [Bãlºucã], magistrate Vasile Beldiman, chamberlain Manolachi Radul, cham-berlain Vasile Veisa and chamberlain Dimitrie Bran), most of them boyars bybirth of leading families, intentionally “forgot” that these clerks had never beenintegrated into the “nobility system,” had never worn a “beard,” or “canes”and that they participated at the Divan Assembly as “witnesses” to the trials,and not as “rightful” members. Despised and lowered for such a long time,seen as “clerks” and “unimportant” low boyars, “upstarts,” these magistrates couldnow be compared against as low, but “genuine nobility,” to the new regulatoryadministrative “systems.”

The same aspects of “distinction” and “great longevity” made the noblefamilies by birth to “discover” the passion of the genealogical research, “the love”for blazons and other aristocratic symbols, which had previously only acciden-tally caught their attention, for particular cases and for thigh political stakes54.While elaborating the Cantacuzino genealogy during the time he was in Russia,ban Mihai Cantacuzino was influenced by the interest for genealogy of the Russiannobility during the reign of Catherine II55, often using himself the term “ghe-nealoghii,” rarely used in the Principalities at that time, comparative with the “sir-aua” or the “lineage” of the great families56. Certain terms borrowed from theRussian vocabulary, such as “ohavnice relatives,” by which Mihai Cantacuzinomeant autochthonous, but which really meant of noble descent, “by blood,”unveils this aspect57. This model contrasted with the “example” of the OrientalTurkish-Fanariot elite, characterized by rapid ascensions and falls, by the insta-bility of the structures and by the fragility of its hierarchies, by the failure insetting certain specific behavioural values and norms, for a “noble” identityand for social prestige, by differentiating it from other categories, but which clear-ly imitated the “habits” and “moods” of the ruling houses, the Grand Vizier,the Grand Dragoman or the Fanariot prince58.

The right “by blood,” through which the family tradition of the great noblehouses were combined within the historical tradition of the State, becomemore important in the aristocratic perception of the time, within the French,German or Russian space, in comparison to other state criteria, conferring to thenoble of the court, with or without a function within the administration, aspecial status and the supremacy within the social-political order of the AncientRegime59. The blood descent was not that much related anymore to conserv-ing the territorial patrimony or the knightly mindset, as now the essential aspects


were family genealogies, titles, blazons, “aristocratic” manners and other “eti-quette” elements, in order to determine the identity of the great Occidental nobil-ity who claimed their noble longevity60. On the other side, the Austrian andRussian pressure upon the Ottoman Empire made the Balkan noble elites to havetheir hopes high again regarding the “liberation” from the Ottoman domination.Besides the religious connotations, related to old Byzantine “orders of the cru-sades”61, these elites have strongly reiterated their Byzantine political inheri-tance and they tried to maintain for themselves a status comparable to that of theEuropean nobles regarding the nobility. The memory and descent from “Greeklineages, from ancient families during the Constantinople Emperors”62 combinedwith studying the genealogies of the Balkan Medieval princely families, result-ing in heraldic compositions, with blazons, “real or imaginary, of the princesof Bosnia, Serbia, and Bulgaria. Greek or Macedonian merchants, new riches,settled in the Habsburg States, and struggled to obtain noble diplomas andblazons decorated with Byzantine elements”63.

Given these external influences, the few genealogies of the great autochtho-nous families elaborated in the first half of the 19th century in the Principalities,taking over – more or less accurately – elements of the European genealogicmodel, without getting too far from the local tradition of noble lineages64, explic-itly reflect the desire to differentiate themselves from the rest of the autochtho-nous or “foreign” noble families who got to high ranks, but who could not claimthe same illustrious and ancient origins. In these genealogical “tables” and “armo-rials,” the documents referring to buying, exchanging or inheriting lands con-stitutes now attested evidence, as lineages don’t prove anymore “the proof ofbeing autochthonous,” the right to have or the primacy over “the services for thecountry,” but they are meant to attest, taking into account the family continu-ity, longevity and noble origin of the respective family. One of the first suchattempts was an “armorial” of the Moldavian family Balº, comprising 16 personswithin four generations, forefathers of the children of Grand Treasurer IordacheBalº – Alecu, Ioan (Iancu) and Ecaterina65. Elaborated and edited by IordacheMãlinescu in 1842, the lineage of the Costache family was “the author’s wor-ship of the great metropolitan Veniamin Costachi and a flattery” of the “pre-tentious agã Gheorghe Costachi” and of “Mihail Boldur Costachi, general andhetman [...] of Moldavia”66. These armorials and genealogical tables represent-ed, among others, a symbolical resistance form of the “great families” towardsthe so-called “people without character” promoted by the princes and, later,towards the administrative hierarchy imposed to the great autochthonous boyarshipby the organic ruling, who had severely “mixed,” according to the criterion ofthe rank, “the genuine nobility” with the “upstarts,” “employees” of the Stateschosen from “low class” families. In exchange, the lineages elaborated by the


boyarship within the regional administration had still in view validating “theimpropriating right” for that “family” and attesting certain land rights67.

�

Notes

1. Translator’s note: the mazili were low boyars or low boyars’ descendants, with nopublic frunctions.

2. For example, Ghergheleºtii, “ancient Moldavians, mazili from the region of Dorohoi”(Costandin Sion, Arhondologia Moldovei. Amintiri ºi note contimporane. Boierii moldoveni,Text ales ºi stabilit, glosar ºi indice de Rodica Rotaru, Prefaþã de Mircea Anghelescu,Postfaþã, note ºi comentarii de ªtefan S. Gorovei, Bucharest, Minerva, 1973, p.55) or the Caracaº family, “ancient Moldavians, mazili from the region of Vaslui”(ibidem, p. 121). A certain ªtefãnache Gherghel was a mazil and had an “immo-bile fortune” at Cãlineºti (the region of Suceava) around 1803 (Uricariul cuprinzã-toriu de hrisoave, anaforale ºi alte acte ale Moldovei din suta XIV-a pânã la a XIX-a, VII,Iassi, 1886, p. 242; Condica liuzilor), later rose as boyar, tax gatherer, “for PrinceCalimah” (Scarlat Callimachi) (Costandin Sion, op. cit., p. 56).

3. The Codreni, according to Costandin Sion, originated in “ancient mazili and cap-tains, land-owning peasants from Boþeºti, the region of Fãlciu” (ibidem, p. 103).

4. Ibidem, pp. 48-49.5. Valentin Al. Georgescu, Preemþiunea în istoria dreptului român. Drepturi de protimi-

sis în Þara Româneascã ºi Moldavia, Bucharest, 1965, p. 34.6. George-Felix Taºcã, Paharnicul Panã de la Galaþi ºi descendenþa sa pânã azi, in “Arhiva

Genealogicã”, V (X), 1998, no. 3-4, p. 109. The pertinent observations of Ion T.Sion regarding the historical value of the land-owning peasants’ lineages elaborat-ed during the 18th century and the first half of the 19th century, ca, as well as any fam-ily lineage, fluctuant according to the documentary evidence (Ion T. Sion, Consideraþiicu privire la spiþele de neam rãzeºeºti, in “Arhiva Genealogicã”, V (X), 1998, no. 3-4,pp. 119-120, 124), compulsory for any genealogical study, cannot be fully comparedfor this study, as the authenticity of the lineages through which a person support-ed at a certain point his nobility claims does not influence the utility of the sourcefor a research having as purpose the ascensions to nobility, not the historical solid-ity of the evidence shown to get it. Also, we are interested in the society’s perceptionregarding the authenticity of these nobility ascensions and not their historicalvalidity per se. In other words, the historical truthfulness of Iordache Drãghici’s claimsof originating from the Walachian Cantacuzins is far less important this research thanwhether this lineage was seen as true or false by the contemporaries.

7. Ion T. Sion identified similar oral traditions in the case of two villages (Umbrãreºti,the region of Tecuci, and Suraia, the region of Putna) “far away from each other”,but which had the same manner of talking about their origin (ibidem, p. 125).

8. Acte botoºãnene ºi dorohoiene, in “Revista istoricã”, X, 1924, no. 4-6, p. 199 (July20, 1820, Iordache Murguleþ to his sister-in-law Anica). The fact that Iordache


and Constantin were brothers results from Act de întãrire al lui Ioniþã Sandu Sturdza(Gh. Ghibãnescu, Documente, in “Ion Neculce”, I, 1921, fascicule 1, pp. 94-95).

9. We do not include here the various services of a boyar towards another boyar, alsocalled “services”, but having another status, related to the particular and familyrelationships among the boyars. When a boyar gave to another boyar an “empow-erment” to sell his land or when he asked another boyar to set the borders of a“parcel”, he did not ask for a “service” in the sense of a command from the “mas-ter” to the “servant”, but he solicited a service from him. Even though, in order toget the service, he did sometimes appeal to his superior rank, he “asked” the anoth-er boyar for his “service”, he did not command him, and called him “brother”, “nephew”or “cousin”, even if they were not related. That is why borders were set of princelyorder, and the “empowerment”, if the land was sold, was financially rewarded, likea mediation service, a favor. It was the same with the “service” of recuperating adebt from a third party, on the basis of a document handed over to the intermedi-ary, who, in case the matter got to the courthouse, represented the creditor boyar as“bailiff”, without implying that he was the “servant” or that the boyar was the“master”. Also, in trials for lands, the boyars constituting a party in the trial senttheir “bailiffs” to represent them, but not always among the land’s administrators, alsocalled “bailiffs”, but sometimes among the boyars who were good at legislation orhose who had “taken over” the land. In “the great trial of Vrancea”, Iordache RosetRoznovanu chose as “bailiff” for the trial of 1814 the oldest of his father-in-law’s sons– of his first wife (Constantin Balº Ciuntu), meaning Iordache Balº Bãlºucã, who ofcourse, did not do a “service” for a “master”, but a favour according to family andpower interests (Uricariul, II, Iassi, 1852, p. 1; December1814, Hrisovul DomnuluiScarlat A. Calimah pentru procesul dintre vistiernicul Iordache Roset cu rãzeºii vrânceni).

10. Nicolae Kretzulescu, Amintiri istorice, Bucureºti, Editura ziarului „Universul”, 1940,p. 24.

11. Documente privitoare la Istoria României, colecþia Eudoxiu de Hurmuzaki, serie nouã,IV, Rapoarte diplomatice ruse (1797-1806), sub îngrijirea acad. Andrei Oþetea, Bucureºti,974, p. 416 (Iaºi, July 28, 1802, V. F. Malinovski to V. P. Kociubei).

12. Filip F. Wiegel, Observaþii asupra stãrii actuale a Basarabiei, apud ªtefan Ciobanu,Cultura româneascã in Basarabia sub stãpânirea rusã, Chiºinãu, 1923, p. 19.

13. Vezi Costandin Sion, op. cit., pp. 66, 101, 227 and Gh. Bezviconi, Familia Krupenski,in “Din Trecutul Nostru”¸ VII, 1939, pp. 5-54.

14. In 1727, Darie Donici was country vel vornic in the Divan of Grigore II Ghica(Ion Neculce, op. cit., p. 364). Costache Crupenschi, the father of Iordache Crupenschi(spatharus in 1810), had been vel vornic (Gh. Bezviconi, op. cit., p. 7).

15. Filip F. Wiegel, op. cit., p. 19.16. About Theodor Vârnav, landowner at Petia (Suceava), Dimitrie Ghiþescu said that

“he was a man with no culture, with a fatuity of great family, empty on the inside”(my italics), claiming to be “a great noble”, in comparison to low boyars andmazili (A. D. Xenopol, Din amintirile unui boier mancientovean din jumãtatea întâia veacului XIX. Dimitrie Ghiþescu 1814-1889, in “Analele Academiei Române. MemoriileSecþiunii Istorice”, second series, XXXII, Bucharest, 1910, p. 1008).

17. Uricariul, VII, pp. 241-254 (Condica liuzilor).


18. Epistolã adresatã lui Edgar Quinet, în 1856, de A. Cantacuzin, în „Convorbiri liter-are”, XVIII, Iaºi, 1885-1886, p. 444.

19. In fact, not been integrated within the “secondary boyarship”, or within the “greatfamilies” of the social elite, it provided the authors and supporters of the politicalidea called “constitutional”, din of the period preceding the Organic Regulation.It believed to have its origins in the “Movileºti, Dabijãºti [...] Racoviþãºti, Tomºãºti[...] and Costineºti, Efstrãteºti, Stroiceºti, the descendants of magistrate Boul,magistrate Buzum, Moþoteºti, the descendants of chancellor Dubãu, chancellorGhenghi, magistrate Urechi, Necorãþãºti, the descendants of hetman Balica and hun-dreds others”, who had also been part of the “loyal and submitted family”, enti-tled to the great functions of the country’s Divan (Ionicã Tãutu, Scrieri social-politice, foreword, introductory study, notes by Emil Vârtosu, Bucharest, 1974, p.112; March 2, 1824, Copie de pe o scrisoare ce au trimiis un boieriu din Moldaviacãtrã dumnealui logofãtul Grigoraºi Sturdza, la Cernãuþi). In 1819, when a coupleof boyars from the “great families” of Walachia claimed a monopole of the func-tions within the Divan, arguing that only they have “the genuine noble lineage”and “the true nobility”, “other very important boyars did not agree with thisclamed origin”, stating that “us, those who call ourselves as having noble origins,if our lineage were researched, wouldn’t we be put to shame in front of lower boyars,within the second and the third class?”, “holding in their hands attesting papersand other documents, proving that they come from great princes and boyars,meaning bani, magistrates, chancellors, spatharuses and others [...] Buzeºtii, Cãpleºtii,Calofereºtii, Prisicenii, Stãneºtii, Popeºtii ands others” (Zilot Românul (ªtefan Fãnuþã),Opere complete, foreword, introductory study, notes by Marcel-Dumitru Ciucã,Bucureºti, 1996, p. 115).

20. Costandin Sion, op. cit., pp. 274-275. They said of the Tãuteºti that they would havebeen related to the family of prince Dragoº”, who dismounted (ibidem, p. 274).

21. Ibidem, p. 275. In this case, too, Costandin Sion proves to be remarkably accurate,as shown by the document of Mihail Suþu since 1793, acknowledging to CostandinTãutu the right “to be included within the lineage [my italics]”, as his father, ToaderTãutu, both deposed from the rank of boyar to that of “boyar servants”, with no rankor document to attest their nobility (Uricariul, VII, p. 56; December 3, 1793, Cartede scutealã de la Mihail Const. Suþul Voevod).

22. Uricariul, VII, p. 55.23. Ioan Murariu, Un vechi arbore genealogic al familiei Tãutu, in “Arhiva Genealogicã”,

I (VI), 1994, no. 1-2, pp. 161-162.24. Gh. Ghibãnescu, Surete ºi izvoade, VIII, Documente racoviþeºti, Iaºi, 1914, p. 214.25. Nicolae Iorga, Documente privitoare la familia Callimachi, II, Bucharest, 1903, p.

XXVI, n. 2.26. Gh. Ghibãnescu, Cuzeºtii (monografie istoricã), Bucharest, 1912, p. 105.27. Costandin Sion, op. cit., pp. 160-161.28. Ibidem, p. 69.29. ªtefan S. Gorovei, Postfaþã, in Costandin Sion, op. cit., p. 329.


30. They signed as chamberlain Iordache Jurje, chamberlain Ioan Jora, spatharus IonCodreanu, agã Iordachi Manu, spatharus Alecu Sturdza, agã Gheorghe Bogdan, acertain spatharus Iamandi, aga I. Iamandi and a ban Miclescu (Iacov Antonovici,Documente bârlãdene, IV, Acte de la mulþi ºoltuzi ºi dregãtori ai Bãrladului, Bârlad,1924, p. 308; May 8, 1833).

31. Neagu Djuvara, Les Grands Boiars ont-ils constituié dans les principautés roumainesune véritable oligarchie institutionnelle et héréditaire?, în „Südost-Forschungen”, XLVIBand, München, 1987, pp. 34-41.

32. Paul Cernovodeanu, Clanuri, famili, autoritãþi, puteri (Þara Româneascã, secolele XV-XVII), in “Arhiva genealogicã”, I(VI), 1994, no. 1-2, p. 86. “The sacrifices” of hegreat boyars referred to dangerous tasks, that the “country” expected them to accom-plish, facing “the danger” in order to protect the other “inhabitants”, “poor” and pow-erless. In 1801, confronted with the danger of becoming “the enemy of the Russians”and menaced with the “invasion of the Russian troops” in Vidin, pasha Pazvantogluasked the Russian delegate at Vidin, a certain Constantin, the mediation of the WalachianDivan and “especially that of ban Ghica [ban Dimitrie Ghica – n.n.]” in his conflictwith Prince Alexandru Moruzi (Documente privitoare la Istoria României, ColecþiaEudoxiu de Hurmuzaki, serie nouã, IV, pp. 308-309; Bucharest, January 14, 1801,Declaraþiile curierului rus, Constantin, cu privire la conversaþia sa cu Pasvantoglu ºi laameninþãrile lui Kara Mustafa). Seeing how much tha pasha trusted the Walachianban, the Divan asked him, “in the name of the country”, to “sacrifice himself” (my ital-ics), going to Pazvantoglu’s house, hoping that his involvement would put a stopto the “games” of the soldiers of Pazvantoglu in Oltenia and in the Danube plain, andthe old boyar was really risking his life (ibidem, IV, p. 309).

33. Alexandru Perietzianu-Buzãu, Genealogiile þãrãneºti, in “Arhiva Genealogicã”, V (X),1998, no. 1-2, p. 235.

34. Neagu Djuva, op. cit., pp. 41-43. In his study, historian Neagu Djuvara insisted upona phenomenon of conserving the “power” observed in case of ten “great families”in each Principality, investigating the presence of the members of various autochtho-nous families in the Divan, during 1771-1821. The conclusions generally coincidewith the results of this investigation, but I do not agree with the opinion of the greathistorian regarding the fact that the “oligarchic character” of the “great families” isforemost proven by their presence in the Divan, as there are situations when the pres-ence of only four of five families in the Divan (Balº, Ghica, Roset and Sturdza inMoldavia, Ghica, Vãcãrescu, Brâncoveanu and Filipescu in Walachia) indicates a “bal-ance of power” between these families, but there are also numerous situationswhen we have the presence of seven or right families and “the power” was actuallymore “concentrated”, many of the officials within the Divan with the ranks ofmagistrate or with lower ranks being the sons-in-law or nephews of the two GrandChancellors, having other names (in Moldavia), cumulating “the power” at thelevel of only two “great families”.

35. I. Tanoviceanu, Traducãtorul din 1803 al Menechmilor: Vornicul Alexandru Beldiman,în „Arhiva. Organul Societãþii ªtiinþifice ºi Literare din Iaºi”, IX, 1898, nr. 3-4, p. 173.


36. Alexandru Perietzianu-Buzãu, Postelnici ºi logofeþi prin drept de naºtere?, in “ArhivaGenealogicã”, I (VI), 1994, no. 3-4, p. 166.

37. In Walachia, Stoica Nãsturel, grandson of ban Constantin Nãsturel (who died in1765), belonging to a great family, is registered in a document of 1814 as cham-berlain, even though his age could not allow him to have this function, thus pos-sessing it “since birth”, and his son, Ion Nãsturel, appears as chancellor, still “sincebirth” (Petre ª. Nãsturel, Postelnic din naºtere, postelnic “din faºã”, in “ArhivaGenealogicã”, V (X), 1998, no. 3-4, p. 23).

38. Neagu M. Djuvara, Familii de aromâni in România, in “Arhiva Genealogicã”, V(X), 1998, no. 1-2, p. 21.

39. Mihai Dimitrie Sturdza, Familiile boiereºti din Moldova ºi Þara Româneascã. Enciclopedieistoricã, genealogicã ºi biograficã: Abaza-Bogdan, Bucureºti, 2004, p. 254.

40. His father, Iordache Balº had married princess Maria Mavrocordat, the mother ofAlecu Balº, in 1763, but he became a widower, as she died in 1770 (ibidem, p.254). Probably, Alecu Balº was around 25 in 1792.

41. Radu Rosetii, Amintiri, I, Ce-am auzit de la alþii, ediþie îngrijitã ºi prefaþã de MirceaAnghelescu, Bucureºti, 1996, p. 37.

42. Mihai Dimitrie Sturdza, Marele comis ºi ºamberlan Iancu Balº, in idem, op. cit., p. 280;Gh. Bezviconi, op. cit., p. 15.

43. Filip F. Wiegel, op. cit., in Gh. Bezviconi, Familia Krupenski, pp. 28-29.44. Mihai Dimitrie Sturdza, op. cit., p. 256.45. Gh. Ghibãnescu, Spiþa familiei “Costachi” (dupã acte ºi documente), in “Ion Neculce”,

IV, fasc. 4, 1924, p. 226 (Iaºi, 25 mai 1809; Act de vânzare între C. Conachi ºi ªerbanCostache Negel, pentru casele lui C. Conachi din Iaºi).

46. Gh. Ungureanu, Familia Sion. Studiu ºi documente, Iaºi, 1936, p. 21.47. Petre ª. Nãsturel, op. cit., p. 24.48. P. V. Nãsturel, Originea boierilor Nãstureli. Studiu istorico-genealogic, in “Revista pen-

tru istorie, archeologie ºi filologie”, X, Bucharest, Carol Göbl Institute, 1909, p. 9.49. V. A. Urechia, Epitropia evgheniþilor, in “Literaturã ºi artã românã”, I, 1896, p. 376.50. Ibidem, p. 382 (February 13, 1815, Anaforaua boierilor epitropi ai evgheniþilor).51. Documente privitoare Istoria României, Colecþia Eudoxiu de Hurmuzaki, serie nouã,

IV, pp. 352-353 (Bucharest, January 28, 1802, Notã informativã despre evenimenteledin Bucureºti ºi din sudul Dunãrii).

52. Analele Parlamentare ale României, V2, Bucharest, 1895, pp. 624-630 (Proiectul pen-tru potrivirea rangurilor pe posturi), p. 631 (February 6, 1835, Îndreptãrile fãcute decãtre Adunare in proiectul înaintãrilor).

53. Documente, in “Ion Neculce”, V, 1925, fascicule 5, p. 218 (November 19, 1841,Numirea ºi cinstea Vornicilor de Poartã).

54. See Ion Ghica, O paginã din istorie, in idem, Opere, I, Edited by Ion Roman, Bucharest,1957, pp. 337-342.

55. Lee A. Farrow, Between Clan and Crown. The Struggle to Define Noble Property inImperial Russia, University of Delaware Press, 2004, pp. 96-116.

56. See Pre slãvita viþã a pre luminatului ºi pre înãlþatului domn Io Nicolae Alexandru voievod,elaborated in 1727 by Nicolae Roset, made boyar by the Austrians, in “TrompetaCarpaþilor”, IV, 1866, pp. 423-425.


57. Genealogia Cantacuzinilor de banul Mihai Cantacuzino, publicatã ºi adnotatã de N.Iorga, Bucureºti, 1902, p. 414.

58. N. Iorga, Prefaþã, in Idem, Documente privitoare la familia Callimachi, I, pp. I-CCXV;Virgil Cândea, Raþiunea dominantã. Contribuþii la istoria umanismului românesc, Cluj-Napoca, 1979, pp. 21-29.

59. See the brief, but very suggestive considerations of Neagu Djuvara in the studyGenealogie, istorie ºi psihanalizã, in “Arhiva Genealogicã”, I (VI), 1994, nr. 1-2, p.141, stating that “in the 18th century, [...] when France dominated Europe demo-graphically and culturally, the political staff is recruited [...] almost exclusively amongan administrative nobility”, that of certain noble families at the North of Loire.

60. See Robert Muchembled, Societatea rafinatã. Politicã ºi politeþe in Franþa, din secolulal XVI-lea pânã in secolul al XX-lea, translated by Ilie Dan, Chiºinãu, 2004.

61. I. C. Filitti, Ordinul Constantinian al Sf. Gheorghe, in idem, Arhiva Gheorghe GrigoreCantacuzino, Bucharest, 1919, pp. XXXIV-XXXVI.

62. Genealogia Cantacuzinilor, p. 413.63. Mihai Dimitrie Sturduza, Familia Balº istoria unei genealogii, in idem, op. cit., p.

258.64. Paul Cernovodeanu concluded that in the Romanian Principalities the first genealog-

ical documents “did not concern, except in a very low degree, the analytical methodof the descendants’ tables” (Importanþa tabelelor de ascendenþi pentru genealogie ºiistorie, “Arhiva Genealogicã”, I (VI), 1994, nr. 1-2, p. 155).

65. The armorial was called Însemnare arãtãtoare de 16 neamuri ale boierilorAlexandruºi Ioan Baluº ºi a surorii sale Ecaterina Toranu di pi tatã ºi di pi mamã. See Maria Dogaru,Un armorial românesc din 1813. Spiþa de neam a familiei Balº dotatã cu steme, Bucharest,1981, pp. 75-98. Sever Zotta assumed that the armorial was necessary for thoseboyars to get the title of Austrian chamberlain for Alecu Balº, starting from isstructure upon 16 “neighbourhoods”, also found in the Habsburg Empire (See inArhGen, II, 1913, no. 4-6, pp. 98-99). Taking into account the fact that AlecuBalº did not get the title, but that his brother Ioan Balº, who lived in Bessarabia,got the title of chamberlain of the tsar before 1818 (Gh. Bezviconi, Boierimea Moldoveidintre Prut ºi Nistru, Bucharest, 2004, p. 15), we find more accurate the theorythat the armorial was elaborated to recognise this title to Ioan Balº.

66. Gh. Ghibãnescu, Roºieºtii ºi apa Idriciului, p. 18.67. In 1819, the Moldavian Divan enforced a lineage of the cavalry commander from

Botosani Iordache ªendrea, whose family “should start with the year 1287, from het-man ªãndre to the cavalry commander, comprising 22 plates” (Alexandru Perietzianu-Buzãu, Vidomostie de boierii Moldovei aflaþi in þarã la 1829, in ArhGen, II (VII), 1995,no. 1-2, p. 159, n.1), elaborated “for the territorial claims of the ªendreºti,” reiter-ating “older claims and tradition” for their family (Maria Magdalena Székely, ªtefanS. Gorovei, Nepoþii lui ªtefan cel Mare, in “Arhiva Genealogicã”, V (X), 1998, no.1-2, p. 112).


AbstractNobility and Power in Moldavia at the Beginning of the 19th Century

In a book entitled Language and symbolic power, Pierre Bourdieu defined the relationship betweenidentity, language and representation the fact that identity is the subject of mental representa-tions, as acts of perception and appreciation, knowledge and recognition of people, expressedthrough a language that reflect their interests and assumptions. Understanding ethnic and socialidentities in this manner, an interdisciplinary research must relate to the representation as part ofhistorical reality, not as a deformation reality, furthermore, to examine the confrontation betweenrepresentations, as mental images conveyed by various social actors, trying thereby to justify a posi-tion of power in society and state. In this conceptual horizon our paper is placed, which aims to examine in the context how socialand political actors from the Romanian Principalities elite built their legitimacy of competing inthe competition for power by appealing to a language full of representations of identity, in the fightfor the political power and the social prestige.

Keywordsidentity, power, representations, social prestige


Au lieu d’introduction

A LLONGÉ SUR son lit de mort, le célèbre philosophe et homme politiqueEdmund Burke avait demandé à être enterré dans l’anonymat, loin desa famille. Une telle curieuse demande peut être expliquée seulement

en étroite liaison avec sa peur à l’égard des révolutionnaires françaises. Sonattitude n’était pas la réaction exagérée d’un individu qui, apparemment, n’auraitpas été en pleine possession de ses facultés mentales. Plutôt, on peut voir enelle la confirmation finale, à la limite, de son adversité face à la Révolution Française.En outre, Burke pouvait se justifier aussi par les nombreux signes récents de l’im-plication de Paris dans une série d’actions antibritannique1.

Si les contrerévolutionnaires classiques partageaient, à des doses différentes,les mêmes craintes sur le danger révolutionnaire, les révolutionnaires eux-mêmesavaient des motifs pour combattre leurs adversaires. Malheureusement, la rela-tion entre la révolution et la contrerévolution continue à rester l’otage d’un cla-vage stérile ce qui nous empêche de comprendre que, en fait, les deux phénomènesont également participé à un pareil processus culturel et politique parce que touterévolution produit et perpétue ses propres opposants. Le contrerévolutionnaireest ainsi, un acteur inévitable de l’imaginaire collective, présent au niveau de larhétorique, mais aussi au niveau de la pratique politique de l’Europe des années1789-18482. Il prenait naissance dans un contexte historique très complexe, oul’intérêt pour le politique et l’accès à l’espace publique augmente dans lequelchaque côté participait à l’autodéfinition de l’autre3.

Une analyse du discours révolutionnaire quarante-huitard de la principauté dela Valachie, nous montre le fleurissement d’une vraie sémantique autour de ceque les spécialistes n’ont pas hésité de nommer « une généalogie de l’enne-

Fils egaré ou traître incurable ?La figure du contrerévolutionnaire

dans l’imaginaire politique roumain du 1848

NICOLAE MIHAI

Étude financée par le Projet UE, FSE, POSDRU, 89/1.5./S/61104 (2010-2013).

mi »4. Qu’on parle de « Constitution », Patrie, patriotisme, propriété, GardeNationale, Assemblé constituante, on identifie presque toujours la présence d’uneombre qui menace le bonheur de la communauté nationale. Il est, croyons-nous, l’un des facteurs qui différencient le mieux les mouvements révolutionnairesroumains de 1821 et 1848. Si à 1821, Tudor Vladimirescu avait manifesté, luiaussi, un intérêt particulier à l’égard la définition du vrai patriote et de l’encou-ragement de la violence contre les ennemis du « peuple opprimé », cependant,dans le mouvement qu’il a mené, on ne trouve pas la tension donnée par le mythede la conspiration, par la présence nocturne et insidieuse des « ennemis de lapatrie » qui marque l’imaginaire révolutionnaire presque trois décennies plus tard.

Les textes produits lors des trois mois du régime révolutionnaire en 1848(appels, articles de presse, des circulaires officielles, rapports administratifs)sont caractérisés par un thème récurrent: l’ennemi n’est pas seulement en dehorsde la ville, mais aussi à l’intérieur de celle-ci. La figure la plus populaire estcelle du contrerévolutionnaire. Pathogène dangereux, il affecte l’ (imm) unitéde l’organisme national et lui compromet toute possibilité de récupération.Une telle maladie politique conduit à des solutions spécifiques, liées aux sensi-bilités et mentalités de l’époque.

Une lecture des documents de l’époque confirme qu’on n’a pas affaire à uneposition idéologique clairement établie5, une situation pareille pour d’autrescas européens. De ce point de vue, être contrerévolutionnaire n’est qu’« une affai-re de moment », selon les mots de Ron Halévi6. Mais le terme peut recevoirune signification spéciale, parce qu’il serve à une désignation polémique et dévient,inévitablement, « une arme politique dans le jeu du pouvoir révolutionnaire »7.La perspective que nous avons choisi, pourrait sembler biaisée et séquentielle,parce que le terme « contrerévolution » lui-même est une sorte de Ianus bifrons.Autrement dit, le chercheur se trouvera vite placé autant devant un discourshostile à la Révolution, qu’à l’un de la Révolution sur ceux qui lui sont opposésou qui sont soupçonnés d’agir ainsi8. Analysant la variante plus consistante dupoint de vue documentaire, c’est à dire celle de la Contrerévolution vue par laperspective révolutionnaire – motivés aussi par l’absence de certains indices consis-tants de la coté contrerévolutionnaire9 – notre intention a été celle de sur-prendre les principales représentations liées à une figure également politique etémotionnelle. Comme dans des autres cas (le cas du Directorat, par exemple),le terme « contrerévolutionnaire » est moins visible. On préfère celui de « réac-tionnaire ». Comme Jean Starobinski a déjà remarqué, une lecture de la dyna-mique révolutionnaire à travers le prisme du couple action / réaction, peut seprouver extrêmement utile10. Il y a un dialogue imaginaire avec cet ennemi, traitéquand comme un fils égaré, quand comme un traître incurable. Entre les deuxhypostases majores se sont intercalés d’autres images, en prouvant la polyvalen-


ce de cette altérité, inévitable dans toute dynamique révolutionnaire11. Ces repré-sentations du contrerévolutionnaire connaissent des variations de ton, des expres-sions plus nuancées d’appartenance, le plus souvent des intellectuels qui ont signéles articles de presse aussi, jusqu’aux descriptions plus plastiques, mais brefs,qui proviennent du territoire. On pense aux rapports des fonctionnaires del’administration locale ou des commissaires révolutionnaires.

Ensuite, nous assistons à la naissance d’un discours qui va de l’utopie de la fra-ternité et de l’harmonie sociale à la violence radicalement proclamée. Nous retrou-vons dans le premier cas une rencontre non conflictuel entre un modèle politiquemoderne et une vision traditionnelle chrétienne ; ou, plutôt, on pourrait parlerd’une valorisation au profit personnel par l’utopie révolutionnaire de sa veine chré-tienne, dans une société où la Bible peut être un argument révolutionnaire plus cré-dible que Rousseau. Mais elle est aussi la source la plus souvent invoquée pour laréconciliation, le pardon, même l’excuse de ceux qui n’ont pas commet inten-tionnellement « le péché politique ». Le désir d’harmoniser les aspérités est en per-manence contredit par la tentation de démarquer les camps. On se trouve donc faceà une frontière très fluide, que les contrerévolutionnaires savent accentuer davan-tage, conformément à certaines représentations véhiculées par le discours révolu-tionnaire. L’image du patriote hypocrite – un oxymoron dans la même logiquerévolutionnaire – revient fréquemment, et en attire l’attention dans quelquessituations bien précisées. Un exemple, en ce sens, saurait l’échec du coup contreré-volutionnaire de 19 juin 1848, lorsqu’on affirmait que « la taille du cocarde est sou-vent proportionnelle à la petitesse des sentiments »12.

Trois hypostases de la culpabilité : l’Errant, le Conspirateur, le Trompeur

L A LECTURE des documents de l’époque nous met invariablement devantune question : comment sont perçus ces contrerévolutionnaires ? Toutd’abord, nous avons affaire à une localisation claire. Les instructions

des commissaires de propagande de Juillet 1848 parlent des « ennemis de l’in-térieur » qui essaient d’influencer les paysans contre la révolution13. Donc, cesadversaires sont à l’intérieur de la ville, sont les « réactionnaires de l’intérieur »,comme on disait dans le contexte de la pénétration des troupes de Soliman Pachadans la principauté.

« Ennemis du bien général et de leur bonheur »14, ils persévèrent encoredans leurs erreurs. Ainsi semblent- ils être surpris par les écrits officiels même.Une lecture d’un document de l’époque, une circulaire de l’administrateur de Dolj


vers ses sous-administrateurs, datée 18 Julie 1848, nous permet d’identifier lesimages suivantes : « des esprits égarés, qui pour des espoirs pleinement vaines etsans aucun fondement, osent répandre des mots pour étourdir les têtes despaysans et pour les insuffler de la méfiance envers les saints droits que la glorieuseconstitution promesse à tous…, des gens qui trouble le silence publique et des enne-mis de la patrie…, des voix maudissants à l’adresse du bonheur du pays », qui « nedevrait jamais respirer pour ne pas infecter l’air pur de la liberté, que le paysan ini-tié dans les droits de la constitution respire…, des gens perdus dans l’opinion publique ».Les mesures sévères engagées contre eux, sont nécessaires pour que « les méchantstremblent devant les droits que la constitution garanti à tous15.

Leur pouvoir persuasif semble plus grand en province. Le gouvernement révo-lutionnaire est, d’ailleurs, conscient de fait qu’il y avait des départements « plushantés par les réactionnaires ». Ceux qui répandent des rumeurs parmi les pay-sans que « maintenant il y a zavera16 et vous ne devez travailler rien ... sont destrompeurs qui vous désirent le mal »17. L’envoie des commissaires révolutionnairesest justifié justement par la présence « de gens qui répandent toutes sortes de motspour effrayer le monde et qui interprètent mal les intentions du gouvernementen voulant déclencher une réaction »18. En faisant référence à la mission de N.Golescu, un roumain Transylvain écrivait à Gheorghe Bariþ, le 31 Juillet 1848,en confirmant la présence des désinformations : « Je sais que là les Turcs noustueront toutes les jours, parce que je sais combien des mensonges bouillent les réac-tionnaires »19. Les réactionnaires sont « les gens le plus loin de Dieu », c’est-à-dire« les fils du péché de ce district »20. En agissant contre « le bonheur commune »,ils souffrent d’une myopie politique évidente. Ils sont ceux « aveuglés par le péché »,qui « ne veulent pas être des chrétiens et des Roumains, ne veulent pas que laloi du pays soit la raison et la fraternité et se forcent à troubler votre bonheurqui à partir de maintenant prendra des racines la terre sainte de la Roumanielibre »21. Leur boussole est erronément orientée, vers le nord (c’est à dire la Russie),ce qui les met dans une dérive continue.

On rencontre quelques images récurrentes dans le discours politique. L’unecultive la dimension récupératrice de ces « frères réactionnaires », selon la défi-nition de Vasile Boerescu dans un appel dont l’effet reste plutôt rhétorique quepratique22. Le fils égaré de la patrie peut à tout moment être apporté sur la bonnevoie, et quelques succès remportés semblent en entretenir les espoirs. Une partedes adversaires « se sont retournés de la voie de l’errance et ont accepté la Consti-tution, en réalisant qu’ils ont été trompés dans leurs opinions et disant qu’ilsn’ont pas lu le calendrier de la Constitution auparavant »23. Mais il s’agit d’unevéritable réconciliation ? Dans une nouvelle proclamation, lancée le 11 Juillet1848, le gouvernement révolutionnaire valaque tente d’apaiser tout le monde,y compris ceux qui ont inspiré des coups contrerévolutionnaires. Il s’agit des


grands propriétaires qui, dans des autres documents, surtout dans la presse,sont taxés le plus sévèrement possible : « Ne soyez pas égaré, mes frères, selon lesintrigues de ceux qui veulent le mal pour la patrie ; ne vous faites pas vous-mêmedes organes aveugles de la dégradation des libertés que nous acquissions »24.L’image du fils égaré de la Patrie implique la possibilité de sa récupération.Dans la logique du discours révolutionnaire, s’il existe des coupables, ils nesont pas tant nombreux qu’on a cru : « la source des toutes intrigues a été lesintrigues de 5, 6 gens aveuglé de l’ambition et d’un intérêt malhonnête, qui,lors d’un minute, ont trompé les autres aussi parce qu’ils avaient interprété mau-vais la sainte proclamation »25.

En misant sur le prestige dont l’Eglise Orthodoxe dispose, les auteurs d’autrestextes soulignent en plus la force de la sanction, par le biais d’un rituel traditionnel,de la rupture définitive entre l’Ancien Régime et la Révolution. En ce cas, l’er-rance est synonyme à l’anachronisme, et tout possibilité de revenir à un régimedisparu devient impossible : « Et il y a encore des gens, des gens qui s’appel-lent eux-mêmes des Roumains, des gens qui diffament notre Constitution, quidésirent secrètement revenir a l’ancien état de choses, même contre l’anathèmeprononcé par la tête de l’Eglise »26. La restauration de l’Ancien Régime étaitprésenté comme improbable, même si elle aurait été soutenu par les troupes russes,sur l’arrivée imminente desquels insistait la propagande contrerévolutionnaire :« Non, non ! – Le Règlement ne peut plus être le canon des Roumains. Les Turcssont nos amis et les Russes ne peuvent plus venir sur la terre roumaine »27.

Dans un tel contexte, l’attachement même à l’égard l’ancien régime du RèglementOrganique est traité ironiquement, comme une absence de connexion au présentet comme un refuge inutile au passé : « L’histoire crie, les faites crient, noustous crions, mais ils ne veulent pas croire que le Règlement est mort. Eh bien,pourquoi, messieurs, vous étés saisis par la surprise, quand vous le savez bien qu’ilétait, par sa nature, assez fragile et impuissant ? »28. L’auteur ne demande autrechose que le retour de ces fils égarés au milieu du corps national : « Nos brassont toujours ouverts. Nos cœurs ne connaissent plus de la haine, soient oubliéstoutes les dernières, venez à nous donner le baiser fraternel ! » 29.

Les mêmes « roumains égarés », appartenant à la noblesse, étaient aussi la cibledes autres articles, publiés dans les gazettes révolutionnaires, comme « PrunculRomân » ou « Popolul Suveran »30, avec la différence que leur ton était légère-ment diminué par rapport à celui des textes signés par César Bolliac : « Nos mes-dames chantent et sautent de bonheur. Très gaie, une d’entre elles, nous disaithier, que maintenant les choses se sont arrangées le meilleur que possible. LesTurcs vient le cimeterre à la main et nous tuent ; les Russes vient eux aussi leRèglement à la main pour nous écorcher, les boyards vient eux aussi avec lecaïmacan, la noblesse, le vol, l’esclavage pour nous enterrer, et puis bonne paix »31.


En synthétisant de cette façon « les paroles qui passent de rue en rue, de mai-son en maison, d’homme en homme »32, l’auteur accusait l’élite des boyards conser-vateurs de cécité politique. Et l’explication était simple : « le Roumain qui arespiré deux moins l’air de la liberté pourra-t-il vivre encore dans l’étouffementdu Règlement et de la noblesse ? » Par conséquence, une telle élite étaient conseilléed’orienter l’aiguille de sa boussole politique vers l’Europe civilisée, et non pas versle nord barbare, allusion évidente à la Russie : « Écoutez-nous, vous, ceux quivoulez être des souverains, dans la crainte de Dieu nous vous disons que ceux quigouvernent aujourd’hui le pays, donnent avec toute la grâce le gouvernementde la main, si vous voudrez renoncer à Satan et faire tourner le bateau à l’Ouestet non pas vers le nord comme jusqu’à présent »33. L’errance est donc d’ordre poli-tico-géographique, mais expliquée en clef religieux.

Des documents de l’époque ne manquent pas ni les références aux « com-plotes infernales des ennemis de la Constitution »34. Le sujet a retenu l’attention decertains spécialistes35, comme par exemple François Furet, qui a parlé entre lespremiers sur l’obsession de la conspiration comme principe organisateur de larhétorique française36. Par suite, il n’est pas exagéré d’affirmer que le secret et lecomplot semblent être des marques par excellence de la contrerévolution de ser-vice. Lorsque le discours révolutionnaire tire l’attention sur ceux qui conspi-rent contre la liberté du peuple, il ne fait qu’accentuer l’écart entre la lumièrequi caractérise les actions du nouveau régime, et les ténèbres dans lesquels sedéplacent les actions de la Contrerévolution. Il y a aussi la perspective surlaquelle est construite l’étude bien connue de Jean Starobinski37. Comme dansla France révolutionnaire, il commencera à circuler une représentation courantesur la contrerévolution, ayant comme arme privilégiée le complot – mais la repré-sentation va bientôt devenir « l’une des obsessions du discours révolutionnaire ».Pour l’élite révolutionnaire il n’existe qu’une position claire et transparente faceà ce sujet. Dans le nouveau cadre politique les citoyens ne pouvaient plus avoirdes secrètes entre eux. Les discours publics, les articles de la presse, l’envoie despétitions ou des délégations, le choix des représentants pour l’AssembléeConstituante participent à la construction d’un pouvoir visible, constitution-nel, qui refusait officiellement le secret ou ses pratiques38.

Prenons l’exemple du discours prononcé par l’abbé Fauchet en août 1789,devant l’église Sainte-Marguerite. Le vicaire de Saint Roche dénonce en termessévères les « aristocrates cachés », « ces ténébreux artisans des malheurs publiques »qui attendent en ombre leur moment de retour. Du cadavre renversé de l’aris-tocratie, « des milliers des serpents venineux se propagent, se cachent dans le seindes nos villes, infestent de loin nos terrains rurales, font entendre leur siffle-ment sourde, jettent de toutes les coins la poison de la haine et le feu de laquerelle39. La description du contrerévolutionnaire faisant appel aux attributs rep-


tiliens, et implicitement, à la maintenance d’une distance mentale face aux op-posants : « les réactionnaires ici se cachent dans le trou du serpent », note untémoin40. Lorsque G. I. Vernescu signe un article en „Pruncul Român”, numé-ro 12, de 10 Julie 1848, sur le court épisode de la caïmacanie de 29 Juin, il lefait avec un double sens : il met en évidence le danger contrerévolutionnaire, pourlequel il utilise les mêmes métaphores, inspirées par le bestiaire tératologique,mais il souligne aussi l’attitude positive de la population de la capitale, motivée,paradoxalement, par « les complots monstrueux des démons incarnés, dont le banderampante s’appelle aristocratie41. C’est l’époque des Caïmans. Il a eu une durée de24 heures ; mais, pour dire la vérité, en voulant nous faire du mal, il nous afait quatre grands biens : Le peuple, goûtant la liberté, avait oublié la tyran-nie ; 24 heures de despotisme lui a apporté toute l’énergie, lui a rappelé tout lecourage et l’a fait montrer toute sa puissance. Les commerçants, indifférentes jus-qu’à ce moment se sont fortement unis avec le peuple. Les espions, les traîtres, ceux« iasme câncesânde » (!), se sont démasqués, ont pris leur lieu et ne peuventplus abuser des Roumains. Le gouvernement a appris une grande leçon : il apprendmaintenant, qu’à tout prix, il doit avoir confiance en peuple ; qu’il doit tenirses promissions, ne pas donner aux sinécures, et, au milieu des romains, il doitimposer de manière forte et protégé, sur les lâches et flasher les idées venimeux,conspiratives de la liberté »42.

On trouve un premier comte des activités contrerévolutionnaires dans un articlede „Pruncul român” de 22 Juin 1848. L’échec du premier coup contrerévolu-tionnaire est interprété comme un fait providentiel, mais aussi comme unepreuve de la vitalité de la nation roumaine. Comment pouvait être cataloguéun tel acte par la presse révolutionnaire ? « Une trahison infernale s’était mis aupoint contre la liberté, contre la justice et la fraternité ». Ses auteurs ne sontque « des pires ennemis de la patrie, qui cultivent la rivalité et la discorde », maisqui évidement, ne peuvent cueillir que « la haine et l’outrage de la nation ». Lecoup contrerévolutionnaire de 29 Juin 1848 est présenté en „Gazeta de Transilvania”comme moment théâtral, de tombé des masques et de révélation de l’image detraître du contrerévolutionnaire : « La vente de la patrie a été découverte danstoute son vide impur »43.La trahison ne peut avoir que un visage répulsif, soncorporalité étant marqué par le péché. A ce type de « traîtres, trompeurs duserment », on refuse le droit de porter la cocarde tricolore.

Le contrerévolutionnaire est, donc, un traître, et dans certaines représenta-tions véhiculées, il est même un parjure. La dernière image comporte une dis-cussion spéciale, surtout lorsqu’on parle de la situation des militaires dans lecas desquels les solidarités spécifiques sont structurées autour des formes sym-boliques comme le serment. Les colonels Odobescu et Solomon pourraientêtre accusés de double parjure. D’une part, leur action de 19 Juin 1848 peut


être expliquée par la loyauté face au souverain « démissionné » et, implicitement,face à l’Ancien Régime régulier. D’autre part, ils ont déposé le serment face aurégime révolutionnaire, essayant en même temps le renverser. En leur charge ontété donc, déposés deux engagements rompus. En insistant sur sa qualité deparjure, le gouvernement révolutionnaire pouvait les présenter publiquementcomme des traîtres. Ainsi, en leur rappelant le serment déposé à Câmpia Filaretului,les leaders révolutionnaires demandaient aux soldats de l’armée ( milice terrière),qui étaient à Bucarest, de ne pas obéir du ex officier : « aujourd’hui votre chefSolomon vous a trompé et – en dépit du serment qu’il a fait aussi – vous a ordonnéde lutter contre le gouvernement et vos frères. Le gouvernement avec sa sain-teté le métropolite vous jurent au nom de Dieu que vous être fidèles à votreserment, c’est-à-dire de défendre, le pays, la liberté et le gouvernement, et de nonpas chagriner vos frères pour un traître comme Solomon, que le gouverne-ment a destitué »44.

L’entré des turcs était justifiée « parce que les ennemi de la patrie et de notreConstitution ont fait des faux apparences devant la Sublime Porte »45 ou « parceque les ennemis de notre bonheur dans l’agonie de la mort ont crié encore unefois et arrivant chez la Sublime Porte, leur crie l’a fait supposer que ce Gouvernementne représente pas le peuple Roumain »46. Les actions des contrerévolution-naires peuvent, donc, être efficaces – même si elles semblent être les dernières –par le recours au bien connu arsenal, dont la désinformation et la manipulationfont partie. La Reconnaissance les mises qui ont apparu autour du discourscontrerévolutionnaire déterminait des ripostes à la mesure, les journalistes-patriotesessayant combattre les peurs traditionnelles, la rumeur et le découragement. Ilssont allés même jusqu’à la initiation des mesures de type jacobine, mais qui tenaientde la rhétorique explosive du moment : « Frères ! Ne comprenez-vous pas d’oùces intrigues vient ; n’entendez- vous pas ce que disent les étrangères, les enne-mis de la Roumanie ? Soit de la trouble, poussons-nous les choses jusqu’à ceque nous forcions le gouvernement à prendre des mesures sévères. Alors lecommerce va effrayer, tous les gens auront peur, le gouvernement sera para-lysé, l’anarchie sortira de toutes les maisons et du sein de ce chaos ils seront forcésà nous appeler à nous, les étrangers pour sauver le pays. Roumain ! Si nouslaisserons ces pares circuler, si chacun n’est pas le policier de sa ville, si nous nepoussons pas jusqu’à la dernière goutte de sang toute tentative de réagir, si nous lais-sons l’intrigue ait l’air de prophète, personne ne pourra pas prédire ce qu’il advien-dra de nous »47. Depuis le 7 Juillet 1848, par la proclamation du gouverne-ment il avait devenu claire un changement de position d’une attitude pardonnantà l’une plus sévère, par l’adoption des « plus sévères mesures pour punir sansexception, toute mensonge, toute intrigue, toute essai de tuer les libertés »48. Commeun résultat directe de l’adoption de cette politique, « tous ceux qui se prouve-


ront des intrigants ou des organes des intrigues, seront immédiatement arrêtés,et, après le jugement, ils perdront toutes les droites de citoyen, parce qu’ilsseuls ont conspiré contre eux ».

Du point de vue de la mythologie politique, on peut dire à propos d’un teldiscours qu’il pendule entre le mythe de la conspiration et ce de l’unité. Si lepremier met, inévitablement, en lumière la rupture du corps national, l’autre oppo-se l’image radieuse d’un corps national unitaire et harmonieux. C’est aussi la raisonpour lequel les discours des premiers jours insistent sur l’unité, en tirant l’at-tention, répétitivement, sur le danger représenté par « la discorde, la désunionet les accouplements »49. Dans le décret no. 72 du gouvernement provisoire, deJuin 1848, on parle de l’arrestation du gouvernement de 19 Juin comme ayant« le triste résultat de voir pour la première fois, un frère armé contre son frère »50.

Le suces d’un jour de la Contrerévolution a été un temps « quand toutes lesesprits infernales de l’aristocratie coururent à la vengeance »51. On assiste à uneconfrontation mythologisé où, évidement, « les anciens tyrans, leurs satellites,l’organe étranger, les criminels de trahison, l’armé trompée ont soudain murmuréet ont tombé à genoux, en demandant pardon devant le torrent d’un peuplequi venait avec la colère de Dieu ». Si Satan, « le grand ennemi de l’humanitéenvia cette bonheur et apporta le jour de 19 », le pardon ne peut être donnéque « comme des mains libérales du Tout-Puissant »52. Curieusement, le texte metl’accent sur une perspective religieuse où, conformément à une vision chrétien-ne, Dieu et Satan sont impliqués les deux dans les événements révolutionnaireet contrerévolutionnaires.

En outre, toutes ces représentations sont sous le signe de l’opposition entreles « fils de la vérité » et les « fils du péché »53, entre une « minorité mouffette »et une majorité radieuse. Par exemple, le triomphe de la révolution à Craiovaet le départ des contrerévolutionnaires (200 familles de boyards et commerçantsqui se sont retirés de la ville) ont coïncidé à un changement bienvenu, vu parla prisme de certaines couples d’images antagoniques, du type liberté/intrigue,lumière/nuit : « toutes ont pris une nouvelle face, la cause de la liberté a triom-phé et les ombres de l’intrigue se sont répandus pour faire lieu a une bellelumière d’unification, fraternisation, liberté et patriotisme »54. Ceux qui se sacri-fient pour la cause de la Révolution, qui renoncent aux esclaves tziganes ou à uneparti de leurs revenus d’officiers ou professeurs, s’opposent aux ceux qui conspi-rent en secret pour la restauration de l’Ancien Régime, qui se donnent aux « com-plots sataniques »55 ; s’opposent, aussi, aux soldats qui tirent contre leurs proprescitoyens et aux officiers qui donnent de tels ordres. Mais on ne trouve pas unearticulation consistante pour la position contrerévolutionnaire qui, soit est mi-nimalisée (« les ennemis de notre Constitution font une minorité très petite ettrès faible »56), soit prend des dimensions apocalyptiques, pour mettre en évidence


meilleur, par contraste, la force de la Révolution ou du nouveau acteur social,le Peuple.

Le discours sur la contrerévolution est, également, un sur la légitimité etmet encore une fois en évidence le fait que « le langage devient une expressionde la puissance et la puissance est exprimée par le droit de parler pour le peuple »57.Par conséquent, les militants s’auto présentent comme l’incarnation exclusive desprincipes révolutionnaires valides. D’autre part, leurs opposants sont ceux atta-chés au complot, à la négation, au chaos. Ils sont ceux qui se donnent à « desintrigues nombreuses, variées et tracées d’une main longue et forte »58, « les révo-lutionnaires égarés »59, « les intrigants, qui veulent le mal à la patrie », « les conspi-rateurs et les ravisseurs des libertés », « les fils de l’esclavage et de ténèbres ».

Le bréviaire des actions contrerévolutionnaires

B UCAREST, LE 27 Juin, 1848. A l’occasion de la cérémonie révolutionnai-re déroulée à Bucarest, sur Câmpia Libertãþii (Câmpul lui Filaret (le Champde Filaret)), Andrei Vangheli et le chanteur Ioan Dãnescu osent crier contre

la Constitution. « Alors le peuple a voulu prendre ces deux gens de la partieréactionnaire et a voulu les punir immédiatement. Si C. Balcescu ne les avaitpas sauvés de la juste colère du peuple, en les fermant là, dans une cave, et puisles envoyant à la police, il aurait pu produire une scène sanglante »60. Il estétonnant le fait que le téméraire geste publique contrerévolutionnaire étaitvenu non pas de la part de certains boyards, mais de la part des gens d’une condi-tion sociale plus basse, qui avaient probablement, leur propre vision sur le nou-vel état de choses. Quant à la qualité de membres de la « parti réactionnaire »,elle était donnée ad-hoc, l’efficacité politique de certains gens avec une posi-tion sociale réduite dans l’hiérarchie de l’époque étant, évidement, nul.

Mais, qui sont les véritables membres de « la parti réactionnaire » ?Certainement, un Ioan Ghica, le gendre d’Alexandru Ghica, qui osait menacerà Cadesti, le comté Buzau, le représentant du gouvernement dans le territoire,le commissaire révolutionnaire Vasilache Caloianu : « venant à moi, il a com-mencé à adresser des paroles injurieuses, qu’il est venu le temps des rois mages,que les pauvres se levèrent pour monter le pays et autres. Lorsque je lui ai ditque je suis envoyé par le Gouvernement, il m’a répondu quel Gouvernement, ceGouvernement résistera jusqu’au surlendemain, et que nous remplirons les mines,en ajoutant que : Rappelez-vous ! Je t’ai consigné et je sais qui tu es »61. La posi-tion contrerévolutionnaire est fondée donc, sur la dispute autour de l’idée delégitimation de la puissance, sur la contestation de la représentativité du nou-veau régime.


On a affaire à des personnes qui ont détenu ou qui détient encore une posi-tion prestigieuse dans la société. C’est le cas de Nicolae Chintescu, le procureuradjoint du district Romanaþi, qui, « avec la plus grande colère despotique », aattaqué le commissaire révolutionnaire Constantin Manega. Dans son rapportvers le Ministère de l’Intérieur, il le décrit comme suite : « cette personne, plei-ne d’aristocratie et despotisme, plusieurs fois a bavardé et bavarde sans cessecontre les nouvelles Constitutions »62. En dépit des efforts « de l’apporter a laconscience de l’avenir heureux qui nous attend », les actions du commissaire etde l’administrateur ont échoué « parce que il ne peut pas se réconcilier et nepeut pas contrôler sa colère despotique », son action étant faite « non pas pourdéfendre sa fonction, mais seulement pour montrer sa colère venimeuse qu’il porteen soi contre ceux qui veulent et protègent les nouvelles institutions bienfai-teurs au pays »63. La description confirme le fait qu’autour de la contrerévolutions’était contourné un imaginaire négatif et irrationnel, extrait de la zone du patho-logique, qui dépassait l’espace des explications valides (la peur de ne pas perdrela position détenue dans le cadre de l’appareille administrative local).

Le 6 Août 1848, les administrateurs révolutionnaires prennent consciencedu texte d’une circulaire envoyé par le ministre de ressort, Nicolae Golescu, quiles demandait parmi les autres, « de soucier à couper les réactions tant dans lesvillages que dans la ville, et celui qui intrique et qui ne cesse pas après tu l’as atten-tionné de ne plus intriguer, tu le gronde en publique et puis, l’incarcère »64.C’est un changement de ton face aux hésitations et l’inefficience manifesté jus-qu’à ce moment-là. Les coups contrerévolutionnaires de 19 et 20 Juin 1848 avaientmontré la fragilité de la puissance révolutionnaire, même dans la capitale, samangue d’efficience dans le combat des comploteurs.

Les images négatives prédominent et la correspondance avec les intellec-tuels roumains de Transylvanie, comme on trouve dans la correspondance entreGeorge Barit et A. Treboniu Laurian : « savez-vous que les réactionnaires sepréparent d’une contrerévolution diabolique à Bucarest par un certain Schina (oucomment il s’appelle), à Craiova, par Haralambie, à Câmpulung par un certainRoset »65. Les ramifications de la Contrerévolution semblent être plus grandescar « les aristocrates » étaient signalés à Brasov aussi qu’ils font « toutes sortesde complots »66.

Donc, l’espace urbain semble être le champ favori de la présence de contreré-volutionnaires. Le fait que certaines villes, comme par exemple, Craiova etCâmpulung, devient une sorte de variantes roumaines du Coblence de pendantla Révolution française, doit être regardé avec l’attention de rigueur. C.D. Aricescu,témoin des événements, explique ce paradoxal succès de la Contrerévolution dansl’espace urbain : « Le Câmpulung, et d’autres capitales des districts, était deve-nu un nid de réactionnaires, qui répandent la peur et la terreur parmi les crédules


et le découragement parmi les craintifs »67. Le retrait des grands propriétairesde la capitale à la province créait les prémisses de telles situations.

Bien qu’ils soient bien placés dans la capitale68, par leur déplacement de la péri-phérie vers le centre du pouvoir, les leaders révolutionnaires avaient perdu lecontrôle sur « la province ». Ainsi, si la révolution débutait en Olténie à Izlaz,il existerait des informations que la région à travers l’Olt était loin d’être inté-gralement contrôlée par la puissance révolutionnaire. Alexandru G. Golescu étaitconscient de la situation lorsqu’il demandait sur les mesures pris en ce sens : « Monfrère, Radu, avez-vous envoyé contre les révolutionnaires ? Vous savez bienque la petite Valachie sera la forteresse des Roumains, cherchez-vous, donc, àla nettoyer des réactionnaires ; concentrez beaucoup de jeunes et de la puissan-ce militaire à Craiova. Lancez-vous un appel aux propriétaires, en les invitant àrevenir de l’errant dans laquelle ils ont été apportés par les perfides réactionnaires »69.

Craiova pourtant, semble détenir le rôle de Bastille de la réaction. A peinele 20 Juliet 1848, le général Gheorghe Magheru pouvait affirmer au sujet deCraiova, que « l’ivraie, donc, a été choisie de blé, et connaissant les conspira-teurs leur petit nombre par rapport au peuple rebellé ce jour-là, on les a insuf-flé la peur, leurs clubs se sont gaspillé, et certains d’entre eux ont fuit, de crain-te à ne pas tomber dans la colère du peuple »70. Cependant, y compris la nominationd’un nouvel administrateur dans la personne du Transylvanien Florian Aaron,l’un des agents révolutionnaires le plus énergique et efficace, est incapable de pro-duire les résultats escomptés, surtout dans le contexte de la prolifération des nou-velles relatives à l’entrée des troupes turques dans la principauté. Vasile Maiorescureconnaît franchement que « Aaron, avec toutes ses compétences, ne peut pasdétruire les clubs des réactionnaires de Craiova»71. En outre, « les Transylvaniens »attirent l’attention de la contrerévolution, encouragée à la fin d’août, par lapossibilité de restaurer les règlements de l’Ancien Régime. Comment on inter-prète autrement le concerne du même intellectuel Transylvanien, avouée à sonfrère, l’apprécié professeur Ioan Maiorescu, que « les réactionnaires » suivrontavec acharnement l’expulsion des « Transylvaniens » de la principauté et mêmeleur assassinassions ? En d’autres termes, « ils n’ont autre conversation plusintéressante que celle sur les Transylvaniens, comment les donner aux Russes,comment les dénoncer et comment les dépouiller »72.

Les articles de la presse révolutionnaires attirent aussi l’attention sur lesmanœuvres faites par les contrerévolutionnaires : « on sait que les uns d’entreles boyards, après ont suscrit un acte par lequel ils appellent, sans honte, les russesdans le pays, aurait dit à son excellence Soliman Pacha, le peuple de Bucarest auraitfait une liste où ils ont noté les uns d’entre eux comme dignes d’être tués. Calomnieet honte ! »73. Mais, les rumeurs répandues pouvaient être un instrument dan-gereux, elles remodelant l’imaginaire traditionnel de l’altérité. Elles menaçaient,


donc, d’inverser les polarités culturelles qui avaient soutenu jusqu’à ce moment-là, dans la propagande révolutionnaire, l’image positive du Turc et celle négati-ve du Russe : « une sorte de propagande qui aurait fait dans le peuple des infâmescréatures, en essayant le faire croire que les Turcs ont vendu le pays aux Russeset que ces sont les premiers qui seront venus dans les Principautés pour confir-mer aux ces derniers ce qu’on attendait là ; ce et d’autres inventions ridicules dansles yeux des connaisseurs, mais qui pour des certains esprits sont dangereux,car elles peuvent introduire dans le peuple la haine pour les Turcs. Ces propa-gandistes sont des agents secrets des certains gens qui détestent les nouvelles réformes; ils sont plus coupables que leurs maîtres, car les premiers travaillent et luttentpour un principe, et plusieurs par la conviction, tandis que les derniers travaillentseulement pour ceux qui les payent pour cette faite honteux. Il y a aussi des autrespersonnes qui, au lieu de embrasser chaleureusement la cause de la patrie, ilsouvrent les portes aux passions ; on connaisse aussi des autres qui n’ont eupour leur malheureuse patrie aucun sourire, aucune larme, et, au lieu de travaillerà la répudiation du pays, se sont retirés, s’appelant eux-mêmes progressistessages ; se retirent, disent-ils, d’une partie, où ils attendent de sang-froid que lesétrangers décidèrent si on doit être libres ou esclaves »74.

Leur présence insidieuse était signalée dans de nombreuses institutions. En„Pruncul Român”, apparaissait, le 31 Août 1848, un article où on attirait l’at-tention du Ministère de la Justice et du ce du Cultes sur le danger de garder leshommes de l’Ancien Régime régulière : il croit aussi qu’un Ministre de la révo-lution peut se servir sans détresse des ceux gens qui la veille criait « vive leRèglement ! » et ce jour-là il crie « vive la Constitution ! » ; s’il croit que les gensdu Règlement doivent être dans son Ministère et les fils de la révolution soientencore dans les rues »75. De même, l’élection des députes pourrait être compro-mise par l’envoie de certaines « images aristocratiques, images qui de la créa-tion du Règlement déchue et jusqu’à la révolution de Juin ont tant ruiné lepaysan qu’aujourd’hui on doit être très attentif pour connaitre s’il est une bête sau-vage ou un homme »76. En outre, Cezar Bolliac avait publié un article en « PoporulSuveran » du 6 Août 1848, par lequel il attirait l’attention sur les significationsde l’établissement un assemblé représentatif national : « si, par contre, nous nousparessons, l’intrigue et la réaction influenceront les élections, la voix du peuple senoiera, son intérêt ne sera plus écouté, les païens triompheront et notre avenirsera la misère et les luttes sanglantes, sera une suite des révolutions et contrerévo-lutions »77.

Une manœuvre des contrerévolutionnaires est le retard de la circulation desnouvelles. Ayant encore des gens fidèles à l’Ancien Régime, ils peuvent se ser-vir d’eux de manière efficace, comme le ministre de l’intérieure montre dans unrapport de C. A. Rosetti vers le directeur des postes le 16 Août 1848 : « les


capitaines des postes de Focºani et Cucu, étaient les hommes de monsieur IoanManu, se trouvent toujours dans des accordes secrètes avec nos ennemis et les plusrapides des nos lettres les retardent et aux nos ennemis facilitent des voies sansretard ». Evidement, « des tels gens sont dangereux pour nous »78, concluait le lea-der révolutionnaire, en demandant la prise des mesures appropriées.

Quitter la capitale ou d’autres centres urbains et la retraite dans la province,chez les différentes propriétés détenues, font difficile la poursuite et la surveillanceadéquate des ceux connus comme des contrerévolutionnaires. Etant notifiéepar le chef de la garde nationale de Cerneti sur l’existence de certaines manœuvrescontrerévolutionnaires (« certaines préparations d’entreprises réactionnelles, ayantquelques gens payés aux grands salaries »79), l’administration de Mehedinþidécidait l’arrêt à domicile de Ioan Gãrdãreanu et Ioan Stretco, leur mis sous« la surveillance de la police », la vérification de tous les logements détenuspour dépister l’armement (« toute la poussière et des armes qu’ils auront »80),l’identification des possibles collaborateurs et leur isolation81. Parmi les conspi-rateurs locaux était signalé « Dumitru Paþa, le locataire de la propriété Oraviþa dece district, en soupçonnant, après l’apparition de quatre habitants du village Rânþu,qu’il se prépare d’entreprendre des tracés réactionnaires ». Le sous-administra-teur était invité à se déplacer à la propriété Bãileºti, tenue par le respectif « réac-tionnaire » en baile, pour vérifier l’information comme qu’il avait engagé des gens« vers ce fin, ou sous le nom de pandoures, quelle armature se trouve chez soi,combien de poussière et quelles d’autres objets il détient, pour cette usage »82.Selon une adresse envoyée au Ministère de l’Intérieur, le 8 Août 1848, la liste descontrerévolutionnaires identifiés comptait en plus Dincã Stolojanu, StanciuStolojanu, Enache Scãfeº du district Gorj, Ioniþã Butoi, Dimitrie Protopopescu,le prêtre Gheorghe Mãrãcine, qui « on connaisse comme des conspirateurs contreles libérateurs de la nation et de la cause sacre d’aujourd’hui », par le répand parmiles habitants, des « faux expressions » et en commettant certaines violences « debattre le praetor Ioan et Petru Lulea, qui habitait là ». Tous étaient mis soussurveillance, tandis que le prêtre était donné dans la custodie d’archiprêtrelocal, pour « suivre ce que les dogmes de l’église le conseillera, car il n’était pasdigne de maintenir les dettes de la religion et la foi à sa nation »83.

Parmi eux, célèbres dans l’époque semble d’être les frères Dincã et StanciuStolojanu. « Deux conspirateurs de la liberté », selon la présentation faite par lecommissaire C. Padeanu « qui pendant le méchant caïmacan ont démontré des sen-timents diaboliques…, ces conspirateurs marchent d’un comté à l’autre avec toutesorte de mensonges, en dénigrant la Constitution sur laquelle la nation a juré »84.Une présentation similaire les fait l’administrateur du départmeent Gorj, le 21Août 1848, en demandant leur capture et arrêt, « parce que les ci-dessus nommés,dans leurs promenades d’un lieu à l’autre répandent toute sorte de paroles effrayantes


aux habitants, en troublant le calme de tous et qui seraient soit dans la ville deCraiova soit chez la propriété du premier qu’il a dans ce district ». La réponsereçue était quelque peu décourageante. Bien que les mesures appropriés ait étéadoptés, « son caché dans les bois, l’aide que les autres réactionnaires plus secretslui donnent et sa relocalisation continue d’un district à l’autre, ont fait inutile jus-qu’à ce moment, tout le zèle »85. En dépit de l’échange alerte des informationsfait pour le capturer et l’envoyer à Bucarest, la mobilité de Stanciu Stolojanu,posait les fonctionnaires révolutionnaires des deux comtés devant des diffi-cultés supplémentaires86 : « parce que le ci-dessus mentionné est l’un d’entre lesrévolutionnaires informés dans la ville de Craiova et dont le nombre a été détruitaprès mon arrivé dans la ville citée »87, comme écrivait sur lui même GheorgheMagheru.

Tout aussi difficile d’être attrapé, était Iorgu Bibescu, le ex sous administra-teurs d’Ocolu de Dolj, enlevé à « des raisons bénis », qui « a disparu »88 or« ont caché »89. Il a été finalement identifié qu’il « marche quand à Craiova, quandau village Brãdeºti » de ce comté, où il y a son frère et un oncle, Grigore Bradescu90.Le dernier se jouisse d’une popularité négative au milieu des citoyens, qui l’au-rait refusé « pour efforcer entre eux des tels idées pervertîtes de son espoir »91.Etant probablement encouragé par les rumeurs concernant l’entrée des troupesottomanes dans le Principauté, Iorgu Bibescu « a commencé à enrôler des genssous des nomes d’esclaves, et même en les invitant et les demandant s’ils sont habi-tués à des armes »92, étant aussi en liaison avec « son oncle, Grigore Brãdescu deBrãdeºti ». Le rapport de l’administrateur de Gorj, de 12 Septembre 1848 ne men-tionne pas le terme de contrerévolutionnaire, mais il ne parle que d’une action qui« donne le suspect », de la possibilité d’entreprendre une « sorte d’inquiétude parmiles habitants ». En l’échange, la réponse de son collègue de Dolj, mieux informé,semble plus clair, en utilisant sans équivoque les termes « mouvement réaction-naire » et « mauvais penseurs »93 lorsqu’il renvoie aux actions de Iorgu Bibescuet de ses acolytes. Ces cas montrent que, malgré les problèmes, le gouverne-ment révolutionnaire savait qui était derrière des actions contrerévolutionnaires,et en cas de « récidivistes », l’adoption des mesures sévères devenait bientôtaccessible. Ainsi, Gheorghe Magheru décidait, le 21 Juliet 1848, sur Nae Fratoºtiþea-nu et Teodor Zãrãfescu de Craiova : « pour cesser enfin les esprits des com-plotes fréquentes de tels égarés de la voie du bien et du bonheur commune, vousêtes invité monsieur l’Administrateur, à arrêter immédiatement les sous nomméset à les envoyer en bonne garde à Bucarest »94. Des autres « comploteurs réaction-naires contre la sainte cause » comme Constantin Sãvoiu et Constantin Vulpescuétaient, aussi, arrêtés95. Mais il y avait aussi des exemples positifs. Plus heureux queses collègues de l’administration révolutionnaire, I. Livaditu, le commissaire révo-lutionnaire de Romanaþi, décrit son activité de la plache d’Olt d’en haut dans son


rapport daté le 31 Juillet 1848. Parmi ses actions, il mentionne qu’il a réussi deréconcilier « partout les esprits obstinés et contrerévolutionnaires »96.

Le changement de l’administrateur de Dolj, Filiºanu et la vacance de la puis-sance locale jusqu’à l’arrivé du nouveau administrateur, Florian Aaron, était signaléecomme accompagnée aussi par des actions négatives, le 3 Août 1848 : « unpetit nombre de réactionnaires marchent à comploter contre l’inscrit pour deman-der dans la fonction d’Administrateur monsieur ªtefan Gãnescu, c’est-à-dire,un homme qui n’a aucune popularité, ni des inclinaisons vers la Constitution »97,plutôt que l’administration et la Police permettait « les mauvais complots de ceuxqui veulent le mal de la patrie »98.

La présence d’une minorité contrerévolutionnaire semble à être un lieu com-mun du discours révolutionnaire. Et pourtant, certains commissaires semblentà indiquer autre chose. Par le rapport no. 63 de 28 Juillet 1848, l’hiérodiacreVeniamin et D. Duþulescu, des commissaires extraordinaires, montrent qu’àleur arrivé dans le comté Giurgiu, ils ont identifié « un complot de 300-400 indi-vidus, dont le but était justement ce de donner une supplication à Pacha ». Parmieux se trouvaient tous les fonctionnaires de l’Etat dont la démission a été exigéeimmédiatement. Il s’agit des personnes bien connus comme « le président de laMunicipalité », ce qui, « même au jour de l’arrivée de la délégation de Bucarest,exhortait le peuple à ne pas écouter les invitations de signer la pétition qui aété envoyé au Sultan. Puis, vient le policier qui tolère tous les ennemis à calom-nier publiquement tant la Constitution que tous les actes du gouvernement. Ily a encore d’autres, même parmi les fonctionnaires, et entre les particulaires il ya tous les Bulgares, les Serbes et les Grecs quittés »99. La présence de membresd’autres groupes ethniques parmi les actions qualifiées comme contrerévolu-tionnaires était une réalité dans des autres régions aussi. Dans certaines villes,comme Brãila, par exemple, l’existence des fortes communautés ethniques sud-balkaniques pourrait être un obstacle sérieux, étant donné que leur membres seprouvaient peu favorables à la révolution100. A Brãila, les contrerévolutionnairessont les « sujets grecs ». Le commissaire révolutionnaire était la cible de leurattaque, comme le montre le rapport de l’administration locale de 20 Juillet 1848.Le secrétaire du consulat grec, A. Mihalopol, était accusé qu’à la tête d’ungroup formé des sujets grecs, il a attaqué le peuple deuxième fois, « aux coupsde bâtons », en confisquant et en déchirant le tricolore101. Une telle attitude dedéfi a irrité les habitants de la ville, ayant besoin de tous les efforts d’une com-mission mixte, roumain-grec, pour l’aplanissement finale du conflit.

Bien que personne ne puisse pas parler d’une véritable « topographie del’adversité » contre la révolution, il est intéressant de noter que les leaders révo-lutionnaires font la distinction entre ceux qui sont « illusionnés » et les « pro-moteurs » des actions. Tout en parlant d’une minorité ou d’un petit nombre d’entre


eux, on constate presque toujours leur efficacité. Comment on peut autrementexpliquer la disparition de 6.000 décrets envois en province – se demande Al.Golescu102 – la non-vulgarisation des mesures du gouvernement, la désinforma-tion et l’éveillé des agriculteurs ou des propriétaires, l’incapacité des autoritéslocales qui n’ont pas réussi à appliquer les décrets du pouvoir révolutionnaire ?

On contournait une « minorité » agaçante, que le général Gheorghe Magheruse décidait de supprimer radicalement : « Les mouvements réactionnaires ourditici, dans la ville de Craiova par un petit nombre de gens, qui ne donnent pas duprix au bien commun et qui à l’occasion d’y mon passage, dans la mission que je suischargé, et que Vous connaissez aussi, j’espère qu’ils ont cessé et qu’ils seronteffacés des cœurs des mal penseurs. Je trouve avec regret qu’après mon départ, mon-sieur Nae Fratotoºtiþeanul et Teodor Zãrãfescu, ont commencé de nouveau, avectoute sorte de paroles qui pourraient troublé la compréhension des citoyens dontils sont compris avec de jouissance et qui regarde la bonheur commune »103.

On tente d’appliquer l’étiquette de « contrerévolutionnaire » pour ce qui audépart était un « réflexe de refus ». Cependant, la résistance populaire à la révo-lution est traitée différemment, sans trouver aucunes significations politiquesou idéologiques qui fonctionnent au niveau des élites politiquement engagées.Les paysans qui, avec le prêtre local ont refusé la mise de la bannière tricolore surla tour de l’église locale ne peuvent pas être comparés à un Iorgu Bibescu ou NaeFratoºtiþeanu. Etant des grands propriétaires, ils avaient de bonnes raisons derejeter le nouveau régime révolutionnaire, qui mettait en péril leur légitimité etla position sociale.

Contrairement à 1821, en 1848 les militaires pourraient être utilisés commeune force contrerévolutionnaire. L’exemple du complot du 19 Juin 1848 est per-tinent. Même si les troupes régulières ne sont pas à l’abri de la réussite révolu-tionnaire, leur degré de réceptivité au mouvement révolutionnaire était signifi-cativement plus faible que dans d’autres parties de l’Europe. Ainsi, dans leGrand-duché de Baden, en raison de cette ouverture face à la révolution et sesidées, l’armée a été presque entièrement reconstruite, tous ses agents actifs etretraités étant contraints de venir devant un tribunal en Octobre 1848. Le faitque chaque le septième agent a été condamné disent beaucoup sur les dimensionsdu phénomène104. Face à la réalité roumaine décevante, Alexandru G. Golescune voyait qu’une solution, l’un radicale. Et les premiers visés étaient les soldatsde la garnison de la capitale : « Prend attention de ne plus laisser les soldats encontact avec les réactionnaires. Fermez-les vous dans la caserne et les révolutionnezpar des cassettes et du prosélytisme oral, par des cadets et des émissaires obscuresinfiltrés entre eux »105.

La confrontation avec les actions des contrerévolutionnaires était l’une incom-mode, le gouvernement révolutionnaire se trouvait, ainsi, dans une impasse


évidente. D’une parte, encourager les gestes des paysans qui s’appropriaient lespropriétés, les bois et les récoltes signifiait la confirmation du discours contreré-volutionnaire, qui insistait sur l’immanence de l’anarchie et, implicitement,l’immanence de la manque de l’autorité de la nouvel pouvoir. Et la mise était énor-me, surtout sur le plan international, dans le contexte de l’attention manifesté parles turcs et par les russes pour l’espace roumain. D’autre parte, revenir sur les idéesinitiales, dans un évident projet de compromis politique et social, présupposaità renoncer aux principes programmatiques et trahir les expectations sociales :ce qui pourrait conduit à perdre le support populaire vital pour un régimejeune, qui ne se jouisse pas de la confiance des élites administrative-militaires,ayant peur sur la perte du statu gagné dans la période régulière. Par consé-quent, même si on fait appel aux mesures fortes, elles doivent être appliquées «doucement ». Ainsi, environ 30 soldats étaient exigés au colonel Golescu le 19Juliet 1848 « pour la bonne organisation dans les jours d’élection des députéspour l’établissement du projet de la propriété et pour mettre fin aux inconve-nances qui pourraient intercéder après les conspirations planifiés en avance parles réactionnaires du comté Buzau… mais à condition qu’il ne fasse pas du feusur le peuple »106.

Un mal nécessaire

A CETTE HYDRE à plusieurs têtes ne peut s’oppose qu’un corps homogè-ne, efficient tant dans la mise en œuvre de ses décisions, que dans la repré-sentation de tous citoyens-patriotes. A l’opinion des certains optimistes,

l’Assemblée Constituante pourrait être cet instrument privilégié : « seulement parl’appel du peuple entier d’employer sa souveraineté on pourra noyer les espritsperfides des ennemis du Roumaine, aussi que les conspirations scélérates des intri-gants non-surveillés, qui se flattent encore à l’idée qu’on peut ravir la liberté desmains d’un peuple éveillé »107.

Il faut dire cependant que le mythe de la contrerévolution a été utilisé avecdu succès par les leaders révolutionnaires du 1848, comme une hausse perma-nente du patriotisme local, de la formation de la solidarité nationale autour dupouvoir révolutionnaire. Son importance pour l’imaginaire publique n’est guer-re négligeable108. Mais l’exemple des complots du 19 et respectivement 29 Juinreste relevant pour la fragilité de la pouvoir révolutionnaire de 1848.

Le contrerévolutionnaire est, donc, ce désigné à un triple niveau, le niveaude l’action, de la mémoire récente de l’événement et de son histoire. Or, les docu-ments analysés nous offrent seulement le premier niveau, ce qui définisse « àchaud » le portait du contrerévolutionnaire ou du réactionnaire de service.


Nous avons essayé d’identifier ces représentations du contrerévolutionnaire,de mesurer ses moments de tension par rapport aux événements qui aurait pufavoriser la naissance d’un tel discours (les complots de 19 et 29 Juin, l’entrée destroupes turcs et russes dans la principauté). Si on peut être d’accord à Furet surles mises réels du ce « délire sur la pouvoir », on le pourra toutefois, mis enrelation avec la fragilité de la pouvoir révolutionnaire ? L’ampleur du ce dis-cours ne nous montre pas qu’en réalité, le contrôle du pouvoir doit être légi-timé et protégé en permanence ? Les images ambivalentes ou antagoniques quison véhiculées sont tant des positions identitaires, en démontrant encore une foisque la naissance de l’ennemi est, avant tout, un problème d’imaginaire.

�

Notes

1. Pour une discussion en détail sur ce sujet, voir Larry E. Tise, The AmericanCounterrevolution: a Retreat from Liberty, 1783-1800, Stackpole Books, 1998, p.297-300. Pour discuter la position de Burke, on envoie à son ouvrage classiqueReflections sur la contrerévolution française 1816, édition roumaine, Bucarest, Nemira,2000. Loin d’être anti-français, Burke se déclarait le partisan d’une France où «règne un esprit de liberté rationnelle », en rejetant le chaos crée par la révolution.

2. Jean-Clément Martin, La Contre-Révolution en Europe XVIIIe-XIXe siècles. Réalitéspolitiques et sociales, résonances culturelles et idéologiques, Rennes, Presse Universitairesde Rennes, 2001.

3. Si on connait meilleure, en général, les aspects liés à l’action répressive des gou-vernants ou aux positions de certains intellectuels célèbres, il existe, toutefois, moinsd’études sur le sujet de la contrerévolution populaire. Pour le cas italien, voir,Alan J. Reinerman, The Failure of Popular Counter-Revolution in Risorgimento Italy:The Case of the Centurions, 1831-1847, en „The Historical Journal”, Vol. 34, No.1 (Mar., 1991), p. 21-41. Une présentation de dernières contributions à KarineRance, La Contre-Révolution à l’œuvre en Europe, în Jean-Clément Martin, La Révolutionà l’œuvre. Perspectives actuelles dans l’histoire de la Révolution française, Rennes, PressesUniversitaires de Rennes, 2005, p. 181-192.

4. Jean-Clément Martin, La Révolution française: généalogie de l’ennemi, en „Raisonspolitiques”, no. 5, février 2002, p. 69-79.

5. Il y a plusieurs niveaux de l’être contrerévolutionnaire.6. Ron Halevi, La Contre-Révolution, en « Histoire, économie et société », Année

1991, Volume 10, Numéro 1, p. 30.7. Ibidem.8. Ibidem.9. Et en tout cas, nous ne pouvons pas parler de l’existence des idéologues de la

taille de Joseph de Maistre, Louis de Bonald, Edmund Burke ou François de


Chateaubriand, pour donner quelques exemples. Voir l’anthologie faite par CristopherOlaf Blum, Critics of the Enlightenment: Readings in the French Counter-RevolutionaryTradition, Wilmington, Delaware, ISI Books, 2004.

10. Jean Starobinski, Action et Réaction. Vie et aventure d’un couple, Paris, Seul, 1999.11. François Furet, Penser la Révolution française, Gallimard, 1978, p. 93. 12. Anul 1848 în Principatele Române, II, Bucarest, 1902, p. 323 (encore Anul 1848).13. Anul 1848, III, p. 108.14. Ibidem, p :88.15. Ileana Petrescu, Documente privind revoluþia de la 1848 în Oltenia, Craiova, Maison

d’édition de l’Académie Roumaine, 1969, p. 51.16. « conspiration», mot d’origine grecque dont les contemporains roumains faitent

l’usage à 1848 pour se rapporter à la mémoire des mouvements révolutionnairegrecque et valaque de 1821 dans les Principautés de la Valachie et Moldavie.

17. Anul 1848, III, p. 17 (Proclamaþiunea guvernului cãtre sãteni, 21 juin 1848).18. Anul 1848, II, p. 56. 19. Anul 1848, III, p. 93.20. Ibidem, p. 126.21. Anul 1848, III, p. 221, publication officielle du Ministère de l’Intérieur vers les

habitants de comtés et de villages de 4 Août 1848.22. Anul 1848, IV, p. 18-21.23. Anul 1848, III, p. 35.24. Anul 1848, II, p. 412.25. Ibidem, p. 528.26. Anul 1848, III, p. 26727. Ibidem, p. 259.28. Article de « Pruncul român » no. 34, 31 Août 1848, en Anul 1848, IV, p. 1.29. Article dans „Pruncul român” no. 39, 11 septembre 1848, en Satire ºi pamflete 1800-

1848, Bucarest, Maison d’édition pour la littérature, 1968, p. 267.30. « Pruncul Român », no. 34, 31 Julie 1848, no. 39, 11 Septembre 1848.31. L’attitude des femmes des boyards sera le sujet de deux épigrammes délicieux, signés

par D. Bolintineanu et publiés en „Poporul Suveran”, I (1848), no. 6 de 12 Julie,no. 1 de 19 Juin.

32. Article en „Pruncul român” no. 33, 28 Aout1848, en Satire ºi pamflete…, p. 258.33. Ibidem, p. 260.34. Anul 1848, III, p. 3535. Timothy Tackett, Conspiracy Obsession in a Time of Revolution: French Elites and the

Origins of the Terror, 1789-1792, en „The American Historical Review”, Vol. 105,No. 3 (Jun., 2000), p. 691-713.

36. François Furet, op. cit., p. 97.37. Jean Starobinski, 1789, les Emblèmes de la raison, Paris, Flammarion, 1979, édi-

tion roumaine, Bucarest, Meridiane, 1990.38. Pierre Serna, Piste de recherches. Du secret de la monarchie à la république des secrets,

en Bernard Gainot, Pierre Serna (sous la direction de), Histoire de la Révolutionet de la l’Empire. Secret et République, 1795-1840, Clermont-Ferrand, PressesUniversitaires de Clermont-Ferrand, 2004, p. 21.


39. Apud Ron Halevi, op. cit., p. 3040. Anul 1848, III, p. 11 (le lettre de Christian Tell vers Gheorghe Magheru, 28

Juillet 1848).41. Anul 1848, II, p. 392.42. Ibidem, p. 394.43. Ibidem, p. 309.44. Anul 1848, III, p. 70-71.45. Anul 1848, II, p. 652.46. Ibidem, p. 689.47. Ibidem, p. 264.48. Ibidem, p. 334.49. Ibidem, p. 9. Sont reproduits des fragmentes des discours tenus par les officialités

du comté Râmnicu-Sãrat, à l’occasion de l’anniversaire de la victoire de la révolu-tion dans la capitale du principauté (ibidem, p. 5, 8).

50. Ibidem,p.16.51. Anul 1848, III, p. 298. 52. Anul 1848, II, p. 434.53. Ibidem, p. 311. Jurãmântul (Le serment), l’article signé par A. Zane en „Poporul

Suveran”, no. 4, 5 Juillet 1848.54. Anul 1848, III, p. 35.55. Anul 1848, II, p. 322.56. Ibidem, note de „Poporul Suveran”, no. 10, 21 Juin 1848.57. Lynn Hunt, Politics, Culture and Class in the French Revolution, Berkeley, University

of California Press, 1984, p. 23.58. Anul 1848, II, p. 410.59. Ibidem, p. 332.60. Anul 1848, III, p. 96.61. Ibidem, p. 97.62. Ibidem, p. 232.63. Ibidem.64. Ibidem, p. 252.65. Anul 1848, II, p. 647 (la lettre d’A. Treboniu Laurian vers A. G. Golescu de 20

Juliet 1848).66. La lettre de l’archimandrite Gheorghe Poenaru vers N. Balcescu, le 27 Juin 1848,

en Anul 1848, II, p. 148.67. C. D. Aricescu, Memoriile mele, Bucarest, Profil publishing, 2002, p. 93.68. Notre affirmation doit être comprise dans la lumière des actions contrerévolu-

tionnaires de 19 et 29 Juin 1848. 69. Anul 1848, II, p. 620.70. Ibidem, p. 645.71. Anul 1848, IV, p. 11.72. Ibidem, p. 10.73. Article de « Poporul Suveran », no. 22, le 27 Août 1848, en Satire si pamflete…,

p. 225.74. Anul 1848, III, p. 256


75. Anul 1848, V, 1576. Anul 1848, III, p. 230 (le rapport no. 3 des commissaires révolutionnaires de Gorj,

4 Août 1848). 77. Ibidem, p. 265. 78. Ibidem, p. 146.79. Ibidem, p. 25.80. Ibidem, p. 25.81. Anul 1848, IV, p. 2582. La Direction départementale des Archives Nationaux, Craiova, fond Prefectura

judeþului Dolj, d. 41/1848, f. 338 (en continuation DDANC). 83. Anul 1848, III, p. 284.84. Ibidem, p. 263.85. Ileana Petrescu, Documente, p. 92; DDANC, fond Prefectura judeþului Dolj, d.

41/1848, f. 290.86. DDANC, fond Prefectura judeþului Dolj, d. 41/1848, f. 290.87. Anul 1848, II, p. 696.88. DDANC, fond Prefectura judeþului Dolj, d. 41/1848, f. 312.89. Ibidem, f. 325.90. Ibidem. L’Enquête de sous administrateur montre qu’il était parti au village Bibeºti-

sud Dolj (ibidem, f. 343).91. Ibidem, f. 318.92. Ileana Petrescu, Documente, p. 118.93. Ibidem.94. Anul 1848, II, p. 666, 675.95. Ibidem, p. 667. 96. Anul 1848, III, p. 88.97. Ibidem, p. 200.98. Ibidem. 99. Ibidem, p. 4.

100. La lettre de Dimitrie Golescu, l’administrateur du comté Brãila, vers A. G. Golescu,le 27 Juin 1949, en Anul 1848, II, p. 147.

101. Anul 1848, III, p. 637.102. Anul 1848, II, p. 619.103. DDANC, fond Prefectura judeþului Dolj, dos. 17/1848, f. 192.104. Dieter Langewiesche, The Role of the Military in the European Revolutions of 1848,

in Dieter Dowe (ed.), Europe in 1848: Revolution and Reform, Berghan Books, 2001,p. 700.

105. Anul 1848, II, p. 620.106. Documente privind revoluþia de la 1848 în Þãrile Române. Þara Româneascã, Bucarest,

Maison d’édition de l’Académie Roumaine, 1983, p. 97.107. Anul 1848, II, p. 703.108. Simona Nicoarã, Mitologiile revoluþiei paºoptiste, Cluj-Napoca, Presse Universitarie

de Cluj, 1999, p. 78 sq.


AbstractErrant Son or Incurable Traitor?

The Figure of the Counterrevolutionary in the Romanian Political Imaginary of 1848

The revolutionaries of 1848 have attracted far more attention than the counterrevolutionaries,in the Danubian Principalities as well. The present study focuses on the latter, particularly, inter-esting aspect and its defining intriguing figures and images. The analysis begins with the eventsof 1821 and the fears triggered by them, fears that played an important part in the acts and atti-tudes of 1848, which created a complex multi-level image of the counterrevolutionary that, almostparadoxically, documents allow us to only partially comprehend.

Keywords1848, revolution, imaginary, counterrevolutionary, Danubian Principalities


I I I . T H E W E S T I N T H E E A S T – T H E E A S T I N T H E W E S T

I I I . 1 . O R I E N TA L F E A R S A N D A I M S

IN THE summer of 1476, Mehmed II had attacked Moldavia. Neither he norhis opponents accomplished their goals. Still, it was his army and not the cru-saders who was hastly retreating. In early September, Venice’s envoy in Moldavia,Emmanuele Gerardo thought that Moldavia had outlived rather well (i.e. cheap)the clash with the Porte. This was relative. Plagues, destructions, famine and deathhad struck her population too. Most damage had been inflicted by Basarab IIILaiotã’s Walachians, who had accompanied Mehmed II on his campaign. StephenIII had lost most of his loyal supporters in the battle of Valea Albã in late July.Prior to it, he had been abandoned by approximately a third of his ost. The region-al anti-Ottoman picture brightened after the successful Hungarian-Moldavianintervention in Walachia in October-November. Yet, by early 1477, the Ottomanreaction had turned those victories into history. Mehmed II eliminated the mil-itary positions won throughout 1476, by Hungary and Moldavia, along the LowerDanube, the Morava and the Sava. This placed Stephen, in particular, in a deli-cate position. His foreign and domestic support was virtually ruined. He depend-ed, more than before, on the financial and political support of the powerswhich had attracted him into the conflict, Venice had been instrumental in thisrespect. The republic was thus the main target for Stephen’s pressures. They wereprobably greater than in 1475-1476, when he had vigorously demanded his finan-cial and monarchical rights from Rome and Venice (nonetheless, after the clash-es of 1476, the next major Ottoman-Moldavian confrontation only came inJuly 1484, when Stephen III lost his vital southern harbors1).

In early May 1477, John Tzamplakon, Stephen’s uncle (barba) arrived in Venice.His speech delivered in front of the senate was well received by the senators, who

Ideological and Practical Means of Survival in Front of the Ottoman

Empire in the Late 1400s

ALEXANDRU SIMON

Study financed through CNCSIS-UEFISCSU, PN II-RU, TE 356/2010 Research Grant

then rushed off to find out the latest news on the difficult Venetian-Ottomannegotiations. John was maybe the most appropriate person to gain Venice’s atten-tion. Previously a captain in the republic’s service, he was a close relative of Maryof Mangop (i.e. Theodoro, in the Crimean Peninsula), Stephen’s wife, and appar-ently of cardinal Bessarion, Venice’s late Greek crusader spearhead. Moreover,Venice as well was in a difficult position. Although, no major Venetian-Ottomanfighting took place at the time, the war costed her in general 70% of her usu-ally 1.000.000 ducats yearly budget. John had been sent to obtain her support,whether all by herself or together with Rome. Stephen wanted money for his warefforts and for an anti-Ottoman comeback. Tzamplakon stressed out Stephen’sChristian blood and financial investments. He reinfor-ced Stephen’s crusadercredibility and ‘eligibility’ for subsidies. If aid did not come to him, Stephen, likeJohn Hunyadi’s son, Matthias Corvinus, like Venice (obviously Tzampakondid not say this straight forward), was to find an arrangement, against his willand belief, with Mehmed (in other words, Stephen was to finalize the talks ini-tiated in early 1477, after Vlad III of Walachia’s death). Hence, during herown negotiations, Venice would have been deprived of at least one of her majorcards: Stephen and the threat posed by him. Recently, in November 1476, Venicehad shown how much Stephen III meant to her, by intervening in Rome andavoiding his deposition as Christendom’s athlete. Sixtus IV had given in to Venice’sexhortations and Stephen had thus retained his title. Hence, he was able topush for more from the republic just a few months after had come close to los-ing his title2.

I. Crusader Rhetoric and Crusader Alternatives between the Balkans and the Crimea

T HE SCENARIO brought forth by Tzamplakon (Christian money or Ottomanpeace) was neither original, nor did it become obsolete. Hunyadi,Skanderbeg or Corvinus had made use of it. Prior to the start of his

Bohemian crusade in 1468, Matthias had been the most successful of all. Inrelation to the Christian powers, Stephen used the menaces in every decade ofhis remaining rule (1479-1481, 1489-1490 or 1499-1503). Responses were notalways positive. Still, such menaces were a major chapter of the ‘late crusaderrules of engagement’. Venice tried everything to protect her colonial possessions,especially Scutari, again under Ottoman threat. Christian and Muslims alike wereusually just pawns in her game. She had sacrificed Skanderbeg during Mehmed’sfinal Albanian campaign (1467). There can be little doubt that Stephen waswell aware of Skanderbeg’s fate. He had to act and provide an alternative, to


the East and to the West, to his potential abandonment by Venice and/ or Rome,after the events of 1476. Elegantly, his envoy had made clear what Venice riskedif Stephen was abandoned and left her with only one solution. She had to sup-port him, with money which he could use for various actions. He preferred acampaign in Crimea, as his southern harbors (at the Dniestr and Danube mounds)were the keys to the Christian recovery of the Crimea Peninsula (in Tzamplakon’swords: se questi castelli [i.e. Chilia and Cetatea Albã] se conserverano, i Turchiporano perder e Caffa et Chieronesso). The campaign was cost-effective. It requiredonly 10.000 men. Venice was not too found of this perspective. Such an actionwould have required the consent of king Casimir IV Jagiello of Poland as wellas Tartar support3.

Casimir’s envoy in Venice Filippo Buonaccorsi, labored against the crusade,whereas the Tartars were still divided between Ahmed and Mengli Ghiray, loyalto Mehmed. 10.000 men could have hardly been moved towards the Crimea,even through the Pericop (the Isthmus of Perekop), without the Ottomansnoticing. This had worked only for the 300 men elite troop sent in late 1475by Stephen in aid to Theodoro. It could have seemed easier to stage an actionin the Balkans. Stephen had constantly avoided such southern plans (usuallycreated by Venice), due to the potential domestic (Moldavia’s crossing by theTartars, as his and hers auxiliaries however) and foreign (the breaches and over-laps in authority and in monarchical claims) problems a Balkan campaign couldhave caused. Only Hunyadi had (once) successfully crossed the Danube againstthe Turks (in 1443) for more than just raids. Stephen’s attitude was different inrespect strictly to the titles involved by these proposals, such as the one includ-ed in the project presented in front of Sixtus IV and of the Sacred College bythe Venetian diplomat Paolo Morosini in spring 1475.

[…] Exercitus igitur hoc ordine conficiendus/ bellumque quatripartito infer-rendum opera precium arbitrantur, quo celerrime maxima/ Europae parte pel-lendum hostem non dubitant. Polonous namque Serenissimus Rex facile ex-/ per-tioribus bello Polonis ac Boemis viginti-quinque millium conflabit exercitum,/sumptoque simul Stephano Servie sive Mundavie Vayvoda cum quinque millibus,/transacto Danubio per Bulgariam per hostem invadant. Ungarie vero SerenissimusRex/ cum vigintiquinque millibus ex suis militia aptioribus et experist per Serviam/et iuxta Bossinam partier aggrediantur hostem […][Almost naturally, dueto a certain Roman and Venetian tendency to disregard the local territo-rial links between the various parts ‘and pawns’ of their anti-Ottoman plans(the two powers focused on their ‘superior coordination), no mention wasmade of the Transylvanian territorial link between Stephen III of Moldaviaand king Matthias Corvinus of Hungary. This link, constituted by the trou-


blesome royal Hungarian province of Transylvania, was to cause them manyproblems during the anti-Ottoman combats of the following year(s) andthat had previously forced several crusader plans to fail, in the 1460s inparticular. Even Stephen III’s great anti-Ottoman of Vaslui in January 1475would have been impossible without a short-term Transylvanian com-promise between all parties involved (a compromise that however mighthave also affected Venetian and Roman crusader planning, with severe con-sequences during the combats of July and August 1476)].

Drafted under the influence of the victory of Vaslui, the project involved a fullscale attack on Mehmed II mounted by Stephen, voivode of Serbia and Moldavia(with 5.000 men), Casimir and Matthias Corvinus (each with 25.000). Incomparison to other contemporary assessments the figures were highly realis-tic (e.g. the 70.000 men strong joint forces of Moldavia and Walachia includedin Matthias Corvinus’ giant army of over 120.000, according to report sent fromBuda to Florence in the same year 1475). Rome and Venice had to supportthe land offensive by sea and in the West. The anti-Ottoman campaign was toend on the Bosporus4.

In 1477, the context did not favor such audacious plans. In 1476, Stephenand Matthias had failed to close the ‘Moldavian trap’ on Mehmed, whereastheir subsequent Walachian success had been merely temporarily. Obstacles in thesouth were less susceptible to be bridged by money and diplomacy than in theeast. Besides, the distance between Suceava and Ottoman Crimea was basicallyequal to that between Stephen’s capital city and Ottoman Bulgaria. The Crimeancampaign did therefore not appear so far-fetched. Its success would have alsomeant the fulfillment of an old Venetian dream: hegemony in the Black Sea.Nothing was done however. In November 1477, when Scutari was again besieged,Stephen took out the Ottoman positions in Walachia (as in 1473-1474). Earlier,throughout the year, he had done little or nothing against the Turk. Until 1481and the outburst of the peculiar Genoese crusader enthusiasm, Stephen’s Crimeanplan seemingly vanished completely from the picture (the plan then resurfacedduring the Ottoman-Venetian war of 1499-1503, when Stephen made a simi-lar ‘offer’). In May 1477, the odds had seemed in favor of the plan. Its costs(up to 80.000 ducats, including Stephen’s share) were not high. The cam-paign, preparations included (if they had not already been made in order tofortify Stephen’s Venetian stand), was to last up to 5-6 months at most, forthe element of surprise to remain effective. Still, someone had to block theTurk while Stephen was in the East. Tzamplakon doubted that Matthias was tocontinue fighting the sultan. Venice was the sole option. She had to attract theTurk to Albania, returning Stephen’s Walachian services. But he could not pres-


ent all facts in front of a senate, where the Turk had his sources. He had said morethan enough. It is likely that some words were meant for the sultan’s ears5.

Venice needed an anti-Ottoman success, at least (like in 1474-1475), inview of a more advantageous peace, but did not feel very capable of facing theTurk alone. Mehmed prepared for a new Albanian campaign. He was not to strikeagain in weakened Moldavia. Venice could not rely on Matthias. Their Italian(due to his father-in law Ferdinand of Aragon) and Adriatic (due to the con-flicts over the lands of the Frankopan counts) disputes had intensified. Theprice for his aid had also gone up in respect to the 15.000 ducats paid to himby Venice in 1474. If Stephen left to the east, Venice was basically exposed to theTurk. Luring him into Albania, keeping him there, while the Crimea was (re)taken,was an unattractive perspective. Even if this made Stephen’s plan look unsus-tainable, he had achieved something else. Venice was fully aware of the factthat she needed Moldavia. Stephen III’s ‘absence’ from the Danube front, whetherbecause he was in the Crimea or because he had an Ottoman truce that there wasno one in Europa or Asia (Usun Hassan’s promises failed to impress) to relieveOttoman pressure off her. After Tzamplakon’s speech, she immediately startedpressuring the papacy. As usual, for Venetian politics namely, Rome too had tofinancially support her athlete. However, though the senate understood and react-ed to his message, Venice seemingly tried to avoid completely giving in to Stephen’sdemands. This best explains why Stephen waited until November 1477, beforeentering Walachia, in the decisive hour of the new Ottoman campaign in Albania.He had waited to see how Venice’s and Istanbul’s stands towards him evolved6.

II. The Pillars of Crusading and the ‘Anti-OttomanIncomes’ of the Moldavian Athlete

S TEPHEN REFORTIFIED his Moldavian fortresses (namely Suceava, Chilia andCetatea Albã), using all resources still available to him. Since 1474, theprincely chancery had virtually ceased to issue charters. He could coun-

terbalance the domestic situation only through foreign affairs. Peace and warseemed equally useful to him. Venice knew his limited choices. News of themreached Milan. The republic too had informed the duchy, still her ally. The astuteLeonardo Botta, Milan’s man in Venice, did not have to collect all the piecesof information in secret. He had witnessed the ‘invention’ of Moldavian anti-Ottoman successes for Venice’s benefit (in spring 1474). In March 1477, he wit-nessed Stephen III’s public discontent with Venice’s policy. Botta quickly noteddown Stephen’s threats and charges and rapidly informed Milan.


Preterea dicta Signoria ha de presenti recevuto littere de Valachia per le qualisecondo ho dal/ medesimo loco e advisata ch’el Valacho Steffano Vayvoda fe granaasay/ de questo Dominio, con dire che da esso non ha potuto havere subsidio, neadiumento/ alcuno nelle fatiche sue, como con li era stato promesso. Et che pertuto mazo non sera/ facta provisione al facto suo, esso pigliara partito col Turco,della quale/ nova dicta Signoria ha preso qualche assomno, parendolli chequando el prenominato/ Valacho se acordasse col Turco, esso Turco potria sicu-ramente voltare li periferi soy/ in Albania et deinde in Dalmatia. Et per ho dictaSignoria ha spaciato cavallari et scripto/ littere al dicto Steffano Vayvoda moltoamorevole et plene de offerte asay (13th of March 1477; the rest of the reportconsisted, in the beginning, of a presentation of Florence’s unwillingnessto consent to the prolongation of her agreement with Milan, after the recentdeath of Gian Galeazzo Sforza, and, in the end, by Venice’s efforts to securethe defense of Albanian Kroja, by means of ‘general <paid> levy’ that hadvirtually been met with enthusiasm in her lands, as well as her interestsin Cyprus).

Venice was accused of anti-Ottoman misconduct. She had pushed Stephen intothe war and left him with no means of resisting Mehmed II. Without hermoney he could not continue to fight. She quickly realized the peril and wroteStephen a letter full of love and promises. Four days later, she instructed her rep-resentatives in Rome to ask for at least 10.000 ducats for Stephen. The stage wasset for Tzamplakon’s speech. The latter made no direct reference to Stephen’sprevious threats (or, for that matter, to Venice’s diplomatic aid of November1476). In a polite and even emphatic at times manner, he only capitalized onthem. Tzamplakon presented Stephen’s propositions. Botta apparently did noteven make the effort to record Tzamplakon’s speech. Things were clear forhim and his Sforza masters since March. In return, three days after the speech,Botta was to record what appeared to be of great(er) value7.

Earlier Venice had implored Matthias not to give up the hope of receiving(financial) aid and of defeating the sultan. Virtually on his knees, the republic’senvoy had urged him to leave personally on campaign in early August 1476for it was not yet too late. Matthias was in fact pushing his credit limit, alreadyincreased by Venice’s despair that the sultan would win, to the very limit. Oncethe money came from the Italian Peninsula, he would gather his whole army andattack Mehmed II. In reality, all the troops the king could use against the Turkon campaign had already been sent to Moldavia. The rest could not be movedto the east or did not respond to his orders. Matthias’ crusader armor howeverdid not break. He eventually got the crusader subsidies too. Afterwards, virtu-ally nothing more came to him. The ‘silting up’ of the Hungarian crusader money


channel may have - the money Matthias actually received certainly did - raisedStephen’s hopes of obtaining more subsidies. As far as his talks with Venice orRome have been preserved, he did not say in fact that he had not received his cutin troops (more likely) or in florins from Matthias (his suzerain). He wantedhis own standing and functional line of crusader financement. He needed incomesnot only for his military safety, but also for his talks with Mehmed. The sul-tan’s demands had been high in 1475-1476. By 1477 Stephen ‘owed’ him at least12.000 ducats in overdue tribute. If he could renounce his claims on Chilia, hemost likely would not give in also in that matter. He too had expenses andthere had been no recent major victory to cover, from outside his yearly budg-et, the costs of his Moldavian campaign(s)8.

Given his Venetian ‘negotiations’ and the lack of anti-Ottoman actions onhis behalf, Stephen seems to have reached a sort of truce with Mehmed. The pos-sibility is substantiated by the (continual) talks between Buda and the Porte(January 1477-April 1478). The talks did not lead to a lasting Hungarian-Ottomantruce, nor did they prevent border fights. Nonetheless, until late 1479, Matthiasdid not embark on any major anti-Ottoman initiative. The outbreak of his warwith Frederick III, predictable since 1476, when the emperor had done hisbest to sabotage the king’s anti-Ottoman war preparations, re-directed hisinterests and main army cores. Stephen was virtually left alone. At least, inorder to buy time until his forces were restored and his protectors decided toaid him, he had to engage in talks with the Porte, though a truce was a prob-lematic issue, partially due to one peculiar matter, of private nature too, whichwas very difficult to settle. It was to this matter and not to Tzamplakon’s speechthat Botta devoted his skills. The boys ‘sheltered’ in Moldavia recapturedMediterranean attention. In July 1475, after the fall of Caffa, these puti shouldhave reached Istanbul as Mehmed’s personal assets. The captain of the Genoeseship charged with their transport decided otherwise. The guards were killedand the ship changed course to Moldavia. Stephen became its master. This wasa personal offense for Mehmed. Apparently, he reacted violently against allChristians, namely Latins, in or around Istanbul. Viewed as traitors and StephenIII’s associates, they were arrested and remained imprisoned until autumn1477. Their release, most likely determined by commercial necessities, could havebeen also linked to Moldavian- and/ or to Venetian-Ottoman talks9.

The magnitude of Mehmed’s reaction is questionable. Botta too doubted thatthe persecution had reached those heights. Mehmed was known as tolerant towardsChristians, Latins or Greeks, living under his authority and most importantly serv-ing him. Nevertheless, the matter is eloquent for the tensions which markedhis north-eastern policy even after the conquest of Caffa. Unwilling to negoti-ate what was rightfully his, Mehmed certainly had problems to conceal his anger.


This rendered Moldavian-Ottoman negotiations more difficult (late 1475-spring1476). Alongside the release of the Ottoman prisoners of Vaslui or the cessionthe Lycostomo castle, the return of the Genoese boys from Caffa was one of theseemingly non-negotiable Turkish conditions. Mehmed also played on the factthat probably Alexander, Stephen’s first born legitimate son (from his marriagewith the Casimir IV’s niece, Evdochia Olenski ‘of Kyiv’), was the sultan’s hostage(the boy, born in 1464, had been sent to Istanbul in 1471 or 1472, on the eveof Stephen’s marriage with Mary of Mangop). Yet, after he learned that MehmedII had killed, apparently in an outburst of rage, Alexander of Theodoro, Stephen’sbrother-in-law, the Moldavian ruler executed all Ottoman prisoners. Negotiationsbroke off. According to the news that reached Istanbul and Genoese Pera, Stephenof Moldavia had even stated that he did not need the Ottoman prisoners’ (ran-som) money, but their bodies.

[Milanese copy of parts of a letter sent from Pera on the 22nd of May 1476]Da novo qui e stato lo ambassatore de Valachi per fare la pace, et dicto amas-satore ha dimandato in la pace/ lo Signoro de lo Todoro [Alexander of Theodoro]che era parente del Vlacho et altri si-gnori de Gotia [Gothia; the old Greek(Byzantine)-Latin denomination for the Crimean Peninsula and in parti-cular for those parts of the peninsula under Byzantine influence], di co<il Turcho> li ha facto morire tuti e ha/ da intendere allo ambassatore deValachi dicti esse in prexone et fexe fentizamente andare lo ambassador/ de Vlachialle prexoni di fora ad parlare con altre persone che erano, che erano in prexo-ne digando che erano essi./ Lo ambassatore de Vlachi intendando non erano quel-li che cerchava, mostro de esso niente et firmorno la paxe, con darge lo carazo,et <il Turcho> diseva dovere dare tutti quelli Turchi che erano prexoni/ inValachia con lo figliolo de Isach Bassa, et molti altri nominati, et cosi se ne andor-no con la pace/ facta, et cusi ando in compagna dello ambassatore de Vlachiun ambas-satore de questo/ Signore <Turcho> per li prexoni. Et quando <ilambassatore di Vlachi> fo in Vlachia davante al loro Signore [Stephen III ofMoldavia], si fece infire tuti li Turchi che/ erano in prexon, et il loro ambassa-tore si messi tuti da una banda quelli che voleva, et/ messi da banda. Lo Vlacholi disse «tu voy tutti questi <?>». Li disse de si. Alhora lo Valacho fi/ parexe tuttiquelli che lo Turco domandava, et se li fexe tuti tagliare et impalare, et mandoad/ dire a questo Signore [Mehmed II] che non li voleva piu dare caraxo, etcosi visto questo Si-gnore tal novo/ se movesi da Adrianopole et da sopra lo Vlacho.Qui se arma da vele 100 et 150/ fuste et paramdarie. Se dice lo Valacho esse caval-li 40m. Dio li presti victoria.[This is probably one of the most vivid ‘ground-floor’ accounts, even though it cannot be accepted with-out caution, of theevents of 1476. It should be added that this account was copied on the


same sheet and one the same side with the report sent from Chios, threedays later, on May 23. The latter concerned the demands of Mehmed II,Stephen III’s hostage son and the Mehmed’s Caffese goods which seemto have been left out of the picture during the final negotiations, proba-bly because Mehmed II had to settle for less. We therefore turn to the secondpart of the report from Chios, after the line mentioning Stephen’s refusalof the sultan’s terms]. Anzi <Steffano vaynoda> risposto allo ambassatore<del Signore Turco> non li volever dare simile cose per alcuno modo, et in quel-la fexe alcidere tuti li prexoni Turchi che haveva. La quale cosa/ intesa el dictoSignore Turco lasso el camino de Ungaria, et prese la via verso Vlachia, et adi/ 13 del presente [May] cavalacho de Adrianopoli. Et ha facto ad Galipoli fuste60 in circha, le quelli le mettono in ordine, con alcune parandarie et con arti-glarie, el altri instrumenti bellichi per/ lo lugo de Mocastro [Monacastro/Maurocastro/ Akkerman/ Cetatea Albã] et Licostomo [Chilia], le quali se par-tira fra brevi giorni. Et e opinione che/ li dicti Vlachi siano ben in ordine, et habiael subsidio de Ungari [i.e. from Matthias Corvinus], poi che <Steffano vay-noda> ha tolto la/ impresa et la audacia de fare contra questo Signore Turco.Dio summa potentia li presti victoria victoria/ la quale tanto desideremo. Jo restocon qualche assanno delli dicti Vlachi attexa la grande/ preparatione che fa cosuycontra li dicti. Ampoi dio tuto po, el quale se digne de esse/ lo adiutere sempre[But, in July 1476, Deus non lo vult].

Earlier however, Stephen III of Moldavia had made a handsome profit withsultan Mehmed’s Caffese goods, still vivid on the regional level in 1477 andduly recorded by Leonardo Botta.

Item, per molte altre littere de persone privar de Levante, se intende el dicto Turco[Mehmed II] essere/ molto indigonato et incrudelito verso Genuesi et la casonede tale indignatione afferiscono/ essere perche una nave genuese, chiamata laNigrona, piu di sono caricho in Caffa/ robe de Turchi de valuta circha ducen-tomilla ducati et alcuni puti che erano/ mandati al dicto Turcho. Et post alle veleper venire ad Constantinopoli mutato/ consilio, parue al patrone d’essa che lericheze et il tempo li fusse molto comodo ad/ fare uno bono quadagona. Et cosipresi et morti tuti li Turchi erano sopra dicta/ nave. Se adrizo alla volta delDanubio et ando con tute queste faculta ad trovare il/ Vayvoda Stef-fano, etcon esso divise la roba a suo modo. Per la quale violenta/ animosita scriveno elTurco indignato havere facto incarcerare tuti li Genuesi/ erano in Pera, inMetelino [Mytilene/ Lesbos] et nelli altri lochi circumstanti, et toltolli tutele loro/ faculta, et havere deliberato vedre il firie di Syo [Chios]. Che se questecosa fusseno della / natura se scri-vero veramente Genuesi seriano in una mis-


erissima exterminatione./ Et etiam sono alcune altre litere che dicono esso Turchoeodem modo haver facto/ incarcerare tuti li Franchi [the Latins], videlicettuti li Cristiani, erano in Pera et in quelli lochi/ circumstanti. Tamen questeultime novelle non se hanno de lochi ben auctenti (11th of May 1477; therest of the report consisted, in the beginning, of the news of the alleged-ly imminent, according to the Venetian Sea Captaincy, Ottoman attackon Genoese Chios and, in the end, of the Venetian republic’s expedientmaritime war preparations against the menacing Ottoman power).

Stephen III of Moldavia had seized sultan Mehmed II’s personal Caffese ‘booty’(from men to jewelry) on the ship, worth 200.000 ducats according to LeonardoBotta. Naturally, the ‘market value’ of the ‘goods’ was smaller under those cir-cumstances, maybe with even up to 50% (although Leonardo Botta apparent-ly referred precisely to the ‘goods’’ market value)10.

III. How to Create, to Provide and to Control Crusaders in Christendom’s Eastern Seas

2 00.000 ducats exceeded (by some 25%) the estimated value of Stephen’slargest budget, prior to his ‘crusader involvement’. The booty was alsoalmost five times bigger than the, so far, estimated amount of subsidies

received (especially in 1473-1474, 1478-1479) directly by him, not throughMatthias, from Rome and Venice during his long anti-Ottoman war (1473-1486).200.000 du-cats stood for approximately a fourth of Matthias’ yearly income, forabout a fifth of the revenues of Milan, Naples and Venice. The sum also stoodfor the (estimated) total amount of official and unofficial Venetian subsidiesreceived by Matthias for anti-Ottoman warfare (1460-1476) and for some65% of the money received up to 1477 by the king from Rome. 200.000ducats were two-three times the money Casimir IV collected in a year. 200.000ducats represented also about 70% of the yearly papal budget in the 1470s.The sum re-corded by Botta, based on several eastern reports, stood for two thirdsof the costs (300.000 ducats according to Chalkokondylas) of Mehmed’s cam-paigns against Belgrade (1456), Walachia (1462) and probably Moldavia (1476).The sum was far greater than the 2.000 ducats that the ‘impoverished’ Stephensaid - in one of his blackmail letters to Casimir IV (1480-1481) - that MehmedII had demanded of him, as compensation for the boys, and ‘asked’ Casimir to payhim that money, as a debt of honor, for Moldavia’s role as Poland’s shield. Obviously,the value of all boys largely exceeded 2.000 ducats. Mehmed’s male prefer-ences, which had made Radu III of Walachia (the brother of Vlad III Dracula)


famous, and his anger upon the news of the ship’s fate, support the idea (also,following Botta’s tone, the some of 200.000 ducats might not have includedthe value of the Genoese boys)11.

According to the report sent by Baldassar of Piscia, papal legate for Bohemia,Hungary and Poland (who had encountered some of the boys while in Wroclaw),to Sixtus IV (September 1476), 127 boys had been on board that ship. Uponreaching Chilia, at the Danube Mounds, these boys, mostly Genoese, were cer-tain that Stephen would set them free. They were chained and dealt with as slaves,contrary to the Christian rules of slave trade. In his defense, Stephen III couldalways argue that Genoese had often taken or traded Moldavians as slaves. He,like most Moldavian rulers, had several conflicts with the Genoese. Apparentlyhe humiliated them whenever he had the chance. Especially Caffa responded inthe same way. Furthermore, after Vaslui, Caffa had rejected Stephen’s proposedanti-Ottoman alliance in the (vain) hope that her refusal could assure the city’ssurvival. In this political respect too, the boys were just goods and pawns. The for-tunate ones reached Italia in 1476, ransomed by their families. The entire affairwas a political gamble as well. Sixtus IV was a Genoese proud of his origin. Afterthe ‘Genoese incident of mid 1475, Stephen received subsidies from the ItalianPeninsula, only some three years later, according to information available untilknow. In return, Sixtus IV had no trouble, nor did he have real alternatives, innaming Stephen III athlete of the Christian faith (he was recorded as athlete ina papal bulla from January 1476). Sixtus IV kept asking for support for the BlackSea Walachians, who together with the Hungarians fought the Ottomans andshould not be left alone (it is therefore quite possible that the fall of Caffa andnot the victory of Vaslui made Stephen an athlete, regardless of his dealingswith the Genoese prisoners). The pope’s calls were directed to areas and states,such as the Duchy of Burgundy, from where no real aid had come over the lastdecade12.

In 1477, nobody in Venice or in the Genoese communities in the Levant appar-ently knew that some of the boys from Caffa had escaped during Mehmed II’sMoldavian campaign. Sixtus IV had already been informed of this by Baldassarof Piscia. Probably, few of those who had fled from Suceava had survived. Onlyfive of them came to Wroclaw, under Matthias’ rule at the time, to the papal legate.Others may have remained under Casimir IV’s protection. Stephen alluded tothem when writing to Casimir some five years after the event. Except for Stephen,who needed them for his talks in Istanbul, Krakow or Genoa, and the boys them-selves, few actually cared about what had happened to them. They were not inPagan, but in Christian (crusader) hands. This made the matter very delicate.In any case, Stephen eventually managed the situation rather well, profitingalso from the fact that the ‘incident’ was perceived as quite normal, due also tothe regional context. After the liberation of Otranto, great hopes of recovering


Caffa arose in Genoa. Some Genoese, namely from the diaspora, even had a verypositive image of Stephen under the circumstances (1481-1482). It was not onlya matter of necessity. A real tradition developed in Genoa that Stephen had treat-ed the boys fair and well. Even Baldassar of Piscia’s tone had been more than neu-tral. Jan D³ugosz, Casimir’s secretary, one of Stephen III’s greatest supporters,had no troubles in, partially, yet openly, presenting the ‘incident’, just after hav-ing nominated Stephen as the monarch who deserved to be the leader of the(alternative) continental crusade (the largely ‘conciliarist’ alternative to the Romanand Hunyadi styled crusading of the last decades)13.

These pragmatic approaches may have had also a negative impact on Stephen,leaving aside what could be interpreted as papal reluctance towards him in theautumn of 1475 (or as papal mistrust and even anger in the fall of 1476). AfterCaffa’s fall, Venice and Rome kept praising him. Stephen became their athlete.Judging from his reactions namely, no subsidy was sent (straight) to him. Allfunds went directly to Matthias. Officially neither the republic, nor the papacysaid a word against his Genoese business or hindered it. They could not affordto lose him. In return, they did not send him (extra) money. Even if not all goodswere sold, or pawned at their real value, even if only a few boys (some could havevalued 1.000 ducats) were ransomed, he may have raised some 100.000 ducats,more than Matthias (whose military costs were greater than those of Stephen),received with great delay and scandal from Rome and Ve-nice in late August 1476.The consequences over the time of this possible down-side are difficult to esti-mate. In the 1470s, long before 1492 (when Venice sent him 80.000 ducats torepresent her interests once again in the East), the downside seems to havepredominantly temporarily. Likewise, it is doubtful that, in case the ‘incident’ hadnot occurred, he would have received 100.000 ducats in view of the imminentOttoman attack. Rome’s and Venice’s treasury chests were increasingly emptyand Stephen was not the key-crusader figure, in spite of Venice’s efforts. Bytradition and authority (three quarters of the anti-Ottoman land front were underhis direct control), this was Matthias. Prior to the treaty of Iaºi (by which Stephenofficially became Matthias’ vassal), a month after Caffa’s fall, he was perceivedand accepted, depending on the context by Stephen also (he controlled at best15% of that front), as Stephen’s suzerain. Venice too, growingly hostile towardsMatthias, had to accept the facts. Furthermore however, like Rome, she had tolook for alternatives, not only to Matthias, but also to Stephen, after the eventsof July 1476-May 1477. After the Greek rite Christian Stephen and the MuslimUsun Hassan, the alternatives were nonetheless even ‘stranger’. In November1477 (when Stephen eventually entered Walachia against the Ottoman), Bottasent from Venice another astonishing report (though not so astonishing for hiscontemporaries).


[...] Che al presente de ordinatione della Santita del Papa et del Gran/ Magistrodi Rodi [Pierre d’Aubusson] debbeno venire qui a Vinetia a fare capitulotuti li/ Cavalleri del Templo perche voriano che li prosperosi andasseno a habitare/qualche anni a Rodi et li intabili li desseno subsidio pecuniario [...] (14th ofNovember 1477; one of the several passages in Botta’s reports from thatautumn referring to the Templars).

Yet the Templar Knights did not become Christendom’s anti-Ottoman spear-heads. This was ‘an office’ that still had to be held by the monarchs at the fron-tiers of the Ottoman Empire14.

�

Notes

1. Archivio di Stato di Milano, Milan (ASM), Archivio Ducale Sforzesco (A.D.S.),Potenze Estere, Roma, cart. 79, fasc. 5, nn (14th of September 1475); cart. 81,fasc. 2, nn (17th of May 1476); Actae et epistolae relationum Transylvaniae Hungariaequecum Moldavia et Valachia (=Fontes Rerum Transylvanicarum, IV, VI), edited by EndreVERESS, I, 1468-1540 (Budapest, 1914), nos. 19-22, pp. 22-25; [Domenico MALIP-IERO], Annali veneti dall’anno 1457 al 1500 del Senatore Domenico Malipiero ordinatie abbreviati dal senatore Francesco Longo (=Archivio Storico Italiano, VII, 1), editorAgostino SAGREDO (Florence, 1843), pp. 99-100 (Malipiero); Gugliermo Berchet,La repubblica di Venezia e la Persia (Turin, 1865), p. 99; [Giovanni Maria ANGI-OLELLO] Donado DA LEZZE, Historia Turchesca, edited by I[oan]. URSU(Bucharest, 1910), pp. 88-90; Antonio BONFINI, Rerum Ungaricarum decades,edited by József FÓGEL, László JUHÁSZ, Béla IVÁNYI, IV (Leipzig, 1941[Budapest, 1944]), pp. 61-62 (Bonfini); Cronica moldo-germanã [The Moldavian-German Chronicle], in Cronicile slavo-române din secolele XV-XVI publicate de IoanBogdan [The Slavic-Romanian Chronicles of the 15th-16th Centuries published byIoan Bogdan], edited by P.P. PANAITESCU (Bucharest, 1959), pp. 31-34, NaghiPIENARU, ‘Un document otoman necunoscut din 1476’ [An unknown OttomanDocument of 1476], Revistã Istoricã (Bucharest) New Series, XIII (2002), 1-2,pp. 229-241. For an overview: A. SIMON, ‘The Costs and Benefits of Anti-OttomanWarfare: Documents on the Case of Moldavia. 1475-1477’, Revue Roumaine d’Histoire(Bucharest), XLVIII (2009), 1-2, pp. 37-53; Idem, ‘The Contested Sultan: TheBackgrounds of Bayezid II’s Moldavian Campaign of 1484’, Eurasian Studies: Journalfor Balkan, Eastern Mediterranean, Anatolian, Middle Eastern, Iranian and CentralAsian Studies (Rome), VII (2009), pp. 17-50

2. Archivio di Stato di Venezia, Venice (ASVe), Senato Secreti (S.S.), Deliberazioni, reg.28, c. 13r-v (8th of May 1477; Tzamplakon’s speech, edited, for instance, in NicolaeIORGA, Veneþia în Marea Neagrã. III. Originea legãturilor cu ªtefan cel Mare ºi mediulpolitic al dezvoltãrii lor [Venice <’s Involvement> in the Black Sea <Area>], in Idem,


Studii asupra evului mediu românesc [Studies on the Romanian Middle Ages], editedby ªerban PAPACOSTEA (Bucharest 1984), no. 47, pp. 289-291(Veneþia);); StefanoMAGNO, Annali veneti e del mondo [1443-1478] (Österreichische Nationalbibliothek,Vienna, Codices, Cod. 6215-6217), III, Ad annum 1477, ff. 671r-674v (and Ad annum1478, ff. 692r-693r); C[onstantin]. SATHAS, Documents inédits relatifs à l’histoirede la Grèce au Moyen Âge, V (Paris ,1884), p. 211; Codex Diplomaticus Partium RegnoHungariae Adnexarum. Magyarország Melléktartományainak Oklevéltára (=MonumentaHungariae Historica, I, 31, 33, 36, 40), II, A Magyarország és Szerbia közti összeköttetésekoklevéltára. 1198-1526 [Documents regarding the Relations at the Meeting-Pointbetween Hungary and Serbia. 1198-1526], edited by Lajos THALLÓCZY and AntalALDÁSY (Budapest, 1907), no. 369, pp. 267-268; Eudoxiu DE HURMUZAKI,Documente privitoare la istoria românilor [Documents regarding the History of theRomanians], XV-1 Acte ºi scrisori din arhivele oraºelor ardelene Bistriþa, Braºov ºiSibiiu, 1358-1600 [Documents and Letters from the Archives of the TransylvanianCities of Bistriþa, Braºov, Sibiu, edited by N. IORGA (Bucharest, 1911), nos.171-176, pp. 76-79; Malipiero, pp. 111-112. N. IORGA, ‘L’oncle d’Étienne le Grand’,Bulletin de la Séction Historique de l’Académie Roumaine (Bucharest), V-VIII (1916-1920), pp. 79-81; Dan Ioan MUREªAN, ‘La place de Girolamo Lando, patricianvénetien et titulaire du Patriarcat de Constantinople (1474-1497), dans la politiqueorientale del’Église de Rome’, Annuario del Istituto Romeno di Cultura e RicercaUmanistica (Venice), VIII (2006), pp. 153-258 (here pp. 182-184). De Medio’sinstructions are in ASVe, S.S., Deliberazioni, reg. 27, cc. 109r-111r. At the end ofthe instructions (which included, among others, the Republic’s position on theHungarian problem from the crusader point of view and the level of Matthias’ relations– whose heralds had just left – with the Habsburgs and the Jagiellons, Venice’s affairsin Italy, with an emphasis on the promotion and the defence of the Venetian GirolamoLando, the <Latin> Patriarch in Constantinople), the major emergencies of themoment, the Turks and Bohemia (which were closely linked with each other throughMatthias Corvinus and the crusade), were resumed:. Volunt commissionem Nostram inomnibus excepto quod in fine novi capituli dicere volunt sic: verus ut Summo/ Pontificinotissimum esse arbitremur incepit sicut ex inclusis exemplis litterarum oratoris nostriinspicere/ poteritis inter Imperatoriam Maiestatem et Serenissimum Dominum RegemHungariae pullulare discensio non negligenda/ intervenientibus rebus regni Boemie et aliiscausis, que, si processerunt non tollere omnes indutias/ et pacificationem factam cumRege Polonie non poterunt; et consequenter avertere Regis Hungariae/ cogitarum ab impresiaChristiana et reddire omnem [sic!], studium Summi Pontificis omnemque laborem etimpensam/ penitus inutilem, super qua materia alias etiam processori tuo scripsisse meminimus.Et propterea tu nostro/ nomine memora, hortare et persuade Sanctitati predicte suaminterponere digentur operam et auctoritatem per illas vias/ et media, que fuerint efficaciora,ne discordie ille procedant ulteriu, sed omnia inter eos pacentur; et/ attendatur ex omnilatere ad propugnationem rei Christiane, ne hosti auso iam Italiam attendere, sicutnosti/ ex frequentibus invasionibus et dirreptionibus, tanta prestetur occasio intrepideadoriendi quandocunque/ voluerit potentiam Christianam et illa subacta aliam et itemaliam invadendi absumendique tandem/ omnes, sed illi potius potenter occuratur presteturque


que deliberata presidia et regi Hungarie et Valaco et/ ceteris indigentibus prout ex motuet invasione inimici magis necessarium fore intelligetur/ pro communi omnium liberationeet salute. Hec nobis videtur supra ceteras importantissima maxima dignissimaque/ ceterarumconsilio et prospicentia Beatitudinis antedicte (f. 111r). Hungary and Moldavia had toreceive help, otherwise a disaster was imminent. No perfidy could be accepted anylonger. Italy’s businesses had to be put in order. Rome had to solve, once and forall, Matthias’ conflicts in the north. Stephen did not have to be dismissed as championof Christian faith. His country had not suffered such great losses. He had to receivefurther evidence of the pope’s confidence. The relationship between the Moldavianlord and the papacy had to be reinforced and renewed (much to the loss of the former’senemies) through the publication of the crusade and the Roman jubilee. For PaulII’s attempted deposition of Skanderbeg as Christendom’s athlete and its broadercontext: [Odorico RINALDO], Annales ecclesiastici ab anno MCXCVIII ubi desinitCardinalis Baronibus auctore Odorico Raynaldo accedunt, XIX, Ab anno 1459 usquead annum 1492 (Cologne, 1694), Ad annum 1466, no. 2, p. 178 [late 1466; IacopoAMMANNATI PICCOLOMINI, Lettere (1444-1479), edited by Paolo CHERUBINI,II, Pontificato di Paolo II, Roma, 1997, no. 208, pp. 875-876 (in particular); BernardDOUMERC, Venice and Protection of its Colonial Domain in the Balkans: ALate Crusade (1463-1503)?, Études Balkaniques (Sofia), XLIV (2007), 3, pp. 115-132. Athlete was more than just a title. Further researches are much needed in thisrespect.

3. ASM, A.D.S., Potenze Estere, Venezia, cart. 354, fasc. 2, nn (18th of February 1468);ASVe, S.S., Deliberazioni, reg. 28, c. 13v (8th of May 1477); ª. PAPACOSTEA, ‘Laguerre ajournée: les rélations polono-moldaves en 1478. Refléxions en marge d’untext de Filippo Buonaccorsi-Callimachus’, Revue Roumane d’Histoire, XI (1972), 1,pp. 3-21; Oliver Jens SCHMITT, ‘Actes inédits concernant Venise, ses possesionsalbanaises et Skanderbeg (1464-1468)’, Turcica. Revue d’études turques: peuples,langues, culture, états, XXXI (1999), pp. 247-312; Jan W³adislaw WOŒ, Politica ereligione nella Polonia tardo medioevale (Trento, 2000), pp. 48-50; N. PIENARU,‘Proiectul scitic. Relaþiile lui ªtefan cel Mare cu Hoarda Mare’ [The Scythian Project.Stephen the Great’s Relations with the Great Horde], Revista Istoricã, New Series,XIV (2003), 5-6, pp. 121-135; Idem, ‘Un document’, pp. 229-241. For furtherinformation on the context, see Iulian-Mihai DAMIAN, ‘La Depositeria della Crociata(1463-1490) e i sussidi dei pontifici romani a Mattia Corvino’, and A. SIMON, ‘TheHungarian Means of the Relations between the Habsburgs and Moldavia at the Endof the 15th Century’, Annuario del Istituto Romeno di Cultura e Ricerca Umanistica,VIII (2006), pp. 135-152 and pp. 259-296; Idem, ‘The Arms of the Cross: Stephenthe Great’s and Matthias Corvinus’ Christian Policies’, in Between Worlds, I, Stephenthe Great, Matthias Corvinus and their Time (=Mélanges d’Histoire Générale, NouvelleSérie, I, 1), edited by László KOSZTA, Ovidiu MUREªAN, A. SIMON (Cluj-Napoca, 2007 [2008]), pp. 45-86 (here pp. 48-50).

4. ASM, A.D.S., Potenze Estere, Illiria, Polonia, Russia, Slavonia, cart. 640, fasc. 2,nn [April-May 1475; misedited, under 1462, by Jovan RADONIĆ in Đurađ KastriotSkenderbeg i Arbanija XV veku (istoriska iratha) [George Castriot Skanderbeg and Albania


in the 15th Century (Historical Sources)] (=Spomenik, XCV) (Belgrade, 1942), no. 226,p. 128; re-edited in A. SIMON, Cristian LUCA, ‘Documentary Perspectives onMatthias Corvinus and Stephen the Great’, Transylvanian Review (Cluj-Napoca), XVII(2008), 3, pp. 85-113, here pp. 101-103); Veneþia, no. 34, p. 276; no. 38, p. 279;no. 42, p. 282; Malipiero, pp. 111-112; GEO PISTARINO, ‘La caduta di Caffa, dias-pora in Oriente’, in Idem, Genovesi d’Oriente (Genoa, 1988), pp. 477-518 (here pp.514-518); A. SIMON, ªtefan cel Mare ºi Matia Corvin. O coexistenþã medievalã [Stephenthe Great and Matthias Corvinus: A Medieval Coexistence] (Cluj-Napoca, 2006[2007]), pp. 102-103, 360-361, 445-446; For the earlier eastern plans of Venice:Enrico CORNET, Le guerre dei Veneti nell’Asia, 1470-1474. Documenti cavati dall’Archivioai Frari in Venezia (Vienna, 1856), no. 43, p. 44; no. 85, p. 106; no. 90, p. 112;[Jacopo AMMANNATI PICCOLOMINI], Diarium Concistoriale dell cardinaleAmmanati atribuito dal Muratori a Giacomo Gherardi da Volterra, in Rerum ItalicarumScriptores (Bologna-Città del Castello), Nova Series, XXIII, 1904, 3, pp. 141-144.

5. ASM, A.D.S., Potenze Estere, Turchia-Levante, cart. 647, fasc. 3, nn (16th of January1474); Ungheria, cart. 649, fasc. 2, nn (15th of February 1474); SIMON, ‘The Armsof the Cross’, pp. 55-56 (Venetian-Genoese hostility naturally surpassed the ratherstrong adversity which had developed between Moldavian and Genoese Pontic polit-ical structures and figures throughout the last century). For military costs and wages,as well as for prices in the Italian Peninsula and East-Central Europe: FernandBRAUDEL, Frank C. SPOONER, ‘Prices in Europe from 1450 to 1750’, in TheCambridge Economic History of Europe, general editor Michael M. POSTAN, IV,The Economy of Expanding Europe in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, editedby E.E. RICH and C.H. WILSON (Cambridge, 1967), pp. 394-398; Gy. RÁZSÓ,‘Military Reforms in the Fifteenth Century’, in A Millennium of Hungarian MilitaryHistory, edited by László VESZPRÉMY, B.K. KIRÁLY (New-York, 2002), pp.70, 76; Donald E. PITCHER, An Historical Geography of the Ottoman Empire (Leiden,1972) pp. 92-97, 138-139.

6. I libri commemoriali della Republica di Venezia. Regesti [edited by Ricardo PREDELLI],V, [Registri XIV-XVII] (Venice, 1901), no. XVI-65, 73, pp. 213, 215; Iván NAGY,Albert B. NYÁRY, Magyar diplomacziai emlékek. Mátyás király korából 1458-1490[Souvenirs of the Hungarian Diplomacy: The Age of King Matthias. 1458-1490](= Monumenta Hungariae Historica, IV, 1-4), II [1466-1480] (Budapest, 1876), no.245, p. 355 (MDE); Veneþia, no. 42, p. 282; [Jan D£UGOSZ], Jan Dlugosii SeniorisCanonici Cracoviensis Opera omnia, editor Alexander pRZEZDZIECKI, XIV, HistoriaePolonicae libri XII [II] (Krakow 1887), pp. 651, 665; Malipiero, pp. 41, 43; FabioCUSIN, Il confine orientale d’Italia nella politica europea del XIV e XV secolo, II (Milan,1937), pp. 151-153; Gy. RÁZSÓ, ‘Una strana alleanza. Alcuni pensieri sulla sto-ria militare e politica dell’alleanza contro i turchi (1440-1464)’, in Venezia e Ungherianel Rinascimento, edited by Vittore BRANCA (Florence, 1973), pp. 95-101. J[oseph].E. WOODS, The Aqquyunlu. Clan, Confederation, Empire (Minneapolis-Chicago1976), pp. 127-137; Kenneth M, SETTON, The Papacy and the Levant (1204-1571),II, The Fifteenth Century (=Memoirs of the American Philosophical Society, CXVII)(Philadelphia, 1978), pp. 314-322.


7. ASM, A.D.S., Potenze Estere, Venezia, cart. 364, fasc. 3, nn (13th of March 1477);ASVe, S.S., Deliberazioni, reg. 28, c. 1r (17th-18th of March, 10th, 19th of April 1477;part of the data was edited, for instance, in Hurmuzaki, VIII, 1376-1650 [editedby Ioan Slavici?] (Bucharest, 1894), no. 21, pp. 16-18; nos. 24-25, pp. 21-22), E.BASSO, ‘De Boucicaut à Francesco Sforza. Persistance et changements dans apolitique orientale des seigneurs ètrangeres de Gênes au XVe siècle’, in Le partagedu monde. Echanges et colonization dans la Mediterranée médiévale, edited by MichelBALARD and Alain DUCELLIER (Paris 1998), pp. 63-77; Marco PISTORESI,‘Venezia-Milano-Firenze 1475. La visita in Laguna di Sforza Maria Sforza e le manovredella diplomazia internazionale: aspetti politici e ritualità pubblica’, Studi Veneziani(Venice), New Series, XLVI (2003), pp. 31-69 (here pp. 44-49). At the time, anoth-er Moldavian-Venetian problem was the ‘Venetian’ (Latin) Patriarchate ofConstantinople (see here Hurmuzaki, VIII, no. 18, p. 14; MUREªAN, ‘La place deGirolamo Lando’, pp. 188-190).The full (late crusader) impact of the latter (andmajor) issue still eludes us in fact.

8. L. THALLÓCZY, Frammenti relativi alla storia dei paesi situati all’Adria (offprintArchaeografo Triestino, 3rd series, VII, 1) (Trieste, 1913), pp. 34-36 (Frammenti);Bonfini, IV, pp. 91-92. See in comparison Edgár ARTNER, Magyarország mit aNyugati Keresztény muvelodés védobástyája: a Vatikánai Levéltárnak azo okiratai, melyekoseinknek a Keletrol Europát fenyegeto veszedelmek ellen kifejet erofeszitéseire vonatkoz-nak (cca. 1214-1606) [Hungary as Propugnaculum of Western Christianity: Documentsfrom the Vatican Secret Archives. 1214-1606)], edited by Szovág KORNÉL (Budapest,2004 [compiled in the 1930s]), especially nos. 100-103, pp.110-120 (1475-1478)(Magyarország); Mihail GUBOGLU, ‘Le tribut payé par les Principautés Roumainsà la Porte jusqu’au début du XVIe siècle d’après les sources turques’, Revue des ÉtudesIslamiques (Paris) XXXVII (1969), 1, pp. 41-80 (here pp. 68-72). It is also inter-esting to note (given Venice’s own Ottoman peace talks) that the money the repu-blic usually requested from Rome for Stephen III in 1477 and 1478 (10.000 ducats)came very close to the minimal sum owed by the Moldavian ruler in tribute to theOttoman sultan.

9. József TELEKI, Hunyadiak kora Magyarországon [The Age of the Hunyadis inHungary], V (Pest 1847), p. 54; MKL, I, nos. 259-260, pp. 381-383; no. 281, p.419; Frammenti, pp. 39-41; Gy. RÁZSÓ, Die Feldzüge Königs Mathias Corvinus inNiederösterreich 1477-1490 (Vienna 1973), pp. 5-7; ª.PAPACOSTEA, ‘Caffa et laMoldavie face à l’expansion ottomane (1453-1484)’, in Atti del Colloquio Genovesi nelMar Nero durante i secoli XIII e XIV, edited by ªtefan PASCU (Bucharest, 1977), pp.150-152; O.J. SCHMITT, Das venezianische Albanien (1402-1479) (Munich, 2001),pp. 604-612; Sándor PAPP, ‘Stephen the Great, Matthias Corvinus and the OttomanEmpire’, in Between Worlds, I, pp. 107-122. For the Crimean context (1474-1476),see also Matei CAZACU, Keram KÉVOKIAN, ‘La chute de Caffa (1475) à la lumièrede nouveaux documents”, in Cahiers du Monde Russe et Soviétique (Paris), XVII, p.495-538, PISTARINO, ‘La caduta di Caffa’, pp. 481, 488-489.

10. ASM, A.D.S., Potenze estere, Ungheria, cart. 650, fasc. 3, nn (20th, 23rd of May 1476);Venezia, cart. 364, fasc. 5, nn (11th of May 1477). Franz BABINGER, Mehmed der


Eroberer unde seine Zeit. Weltenstürmer einer Zeitenwende (Munich, 19592), pp.382-388; A. SIMON, ‘Quello ch’e apresso el Turcho. About A Son of Stephen the Great’,Annuario del Istituto Romeno di Cultura e Ricerca Umanistica, VI-VII (2004-2005),pp. 141-169. For the Pontic and Italian background: Idem, Anti-Ottoman Warfareand Crusader Propaganda in 1474: New Evidences from the Archives of Milan’,Revue Roumaine d’Histoire, XLVI (2007), 1-4, pp. 25-39. For the boys and their rela-tives: ªtefan ANDREESCU, ‘Autour de la dernière phase des rapports entre laMoldavie et Gênes’, Revue Roumaine d’Histoire, XXI (1982), 2, pp. 257-282. The‘business focused’ captain probably got his share of the ‘booty’. On the other hand,given Stephen’s conduct towards the Genoese, relieved that they were in Christianhands, we cannot rule out the possibility that the captain too was put into chainsby the ruler.

11. Biblioteca Nazionale Maricana (Venice), Codices, Cod. Lat. 178 (=3625), cc.41r-42v (16th of September 1476; the best edition of the report belongs to KryzstofBACZKOWSKI, ‘Nieznane listy Baltazara z Piscii do papie¿a Sykstusa IV z lat 1476-1478 ze zbiorów weneckich’ [Baldassar of Piscia’s Reports to Pope Sixtus IV fromthe Venetian Archives. 1476-1478], Prace Historyczne [Historical Studies] (Krakow),LXXXIX (1989), Appendix, no. 1, pp. 242-248); I. BOGDAN, Documentele luiªtefan cel Mare [The Documents of Stephen the Great], II [1493-1503, 1458-1503](Bucharest, 1913), no. 193, p. 366; Laonic CHALCOCONDIl, Expuneri istorice[Historic Demonstrations], edited by Vasile GRECU (Bucharest, 1958), p. 285;Leben und Taten der türkischen Kaiser. Die anonyme vulgärgriechische Chronik CodexBarberinianus Graecus (Anonymus Zoras) (=Osmanische Geschichtsschreiber, VI), editedby Richard F. KREUTEL (Graz-Vienna-Cologne, 1971), pp. 145-146; Erik GÜGEDI,‘Mátyás király jövedelme 1475-ben’ [King Matthias Budget of 1475], Századok[Centuries] (Budapest) CXVI (1982), 3, pp. 484-506; ªevket PAMUK, ‘Moneyin the Ottoman Empire, 1326-1914’, in An Economic and Social History of the OttomanEmpire, 1300-1914, [I], edited by Halil INALCIK (Cambridge, 19941), pp. 951-956; SETTON, The Papacy and the Levant, II, pp. 320-327 (with further data).For the papal crusader funds in the 1470s, see Benjamin Weber’s PhD thesis,Lutter contre les Turcs. Les formes nouvelles de la croisade pontificale au XVe siècle, Toulouse,2009 (mss), especially pp. 296-297, 376-377, fig. 8-9.

12. Archivio Segreto Vaticano, Vatican City, Miscellanea Armadi., II-30, f. 44 (49)r

(February 25, 1476; edited in Magyarország, no. 101, pp. 111-112), 83 (88v) (August12, 1475); II-53, ff. 88 (94)v-97 (102)r (February 15, 1476) II-56, f. 201 (211)r

(August 30, 1475); Reg. Vat. 578, ff. 92r-93r (13th of January 1476; the bulla wasmisedited, under 1477, as already noticed by Oskar HALECKI, From Florence toBrest. 1439-1596 (Rome 1958), p. 104, note 14, in Augustinus Theiner, Vetera monu-menta historica Hungarica sacram illustrantia II, Ab Innocentio PP. VI. usque adClementem PP. VII. 1352-1526 (Rome 1859), no. 636, pp. 453-454); Codice, I,no. 120, pp. 307-309; no. 151, pp. 364-368; no. 377, p. 815; II-2, no. 658, p. 338;no. 1087, pp. 103-104 ; no. 1102, pp. 114-116; no. 1104, p. 122; no. 1117, p. 195;Acte ºi fragmente, III, pp. 50-51, 88-89; ªt. ANDREESCU, ‘Un nou act genovez cuprivire la ªtefan cel Mare [A New Genoese Document regarding Stephen the Great],


Studii ºi Materiale de Istorie Medie [Studies and Materials in Medieval History](Bucharest-Brãila), XXII (2004), pp. 133-136. The efforts of the families to ran-som the boys are documented. Yet, it could be of interest that Botta does not men-tion in his ‘synthesis’ the return of (part of) the boys to the peninsula, ransomedor not.; and see in particular

13. E.g. Archivio di Stato di Genova, Genoa, Archivio Segreto, Diversorum [reg.] 742,c. 4v; Litterarum: Officium Monete, [reg.] 1804, cc. 44r-45v; Materie Politiche. Scrittiin lingua orientale ed africana, 2737 D, nn [Documenti Greco-Bizantini], [dos. G](13th of September 1480, 2nd of February, 31st of December 1481); ASM, A.D.S.,Potenze Estere, Venezia, cart. 364, fasc. 5 (May 11); Biblioteca Museo Correr (Venice),Manoscritti, Provenienze diverse, 594, ff. 39r-v, 41r (3rd, 18th of July 1481); BNM,Cod. Lat. X-178 (=3625), c. 41v; Documente ªtefan, II, no. 193, p. 366 (see the ‘ver-sion’ in Theodor HOLBAN, ‘Noi documente româneºti din ar-hivele polone ºi fran-ceze’ [New Romanian Documents from Polish and French Archives] (I), AnuarulInstitutului deIstorie ºi Arheologie A.D. Xenopol, XV (1978), no. 2, p. 467); GiacomoGRASSO, ‘Documenti riguardanti la costituzione di una lega contro il Turco nel1481’, Giornale linguistico di scienze, lettere ed arti (Genoa), VI (1879), no. 113,pp. 483-484; no. 119, pp. 487-488; D³ugosz, pp. 630-631, 639-644; ANDREES-CU, ‘Dernière phase’, pp. 277-279.

14. Viaceslav MAKUSEV, Monumenta Historica Slavorum Meridionalum vicinorum-quepopulorum e tabularis et bibliothecis italicis derompta, I-2, Genua, Mantua, Mediolanum,Panormus et Taurinum (Belgrade, 1882), no. 15, p. 137 (1492); Veneþia, no. 47,p. 290; no. 51, p. 203; Gy. RÁZSÓ, ‘The Mercernary Army of King MatthiasCorvinus’, in From Hunyadi to Rákóczi. War and Society in Late Medieval and EarlyModern Hungary, edited by János M. BAK and B.K. KIRÁLY (New-York, 1982),pp. 130-138; András KUBINYI, ‘König Matthias und die ungarischen Bischöfe’,in Idem, Matthias Corvinus. Die Regierung eines Königreichs in Ostmitteleuropa (Herne,1999), pp. 137-161 (here p. 159, note 88); A. SIMON, ‘Antonio Bonfini’s Valachorumregulus: Matthias Corvinus, Transylvania and Stephen the Great’, in Between Worlds,I, pp. 207-226 (here pp. 219-224); Idem, ªtefan cel Mare ºi Matia Corvin, pp.114-118. The otherwise balanced ‘German propaganda work’ of Stephen, des-tined for German environment of his Habsburg allies (Cronica moldo-germanã, p.34), offered in the early 1500s an idylical picture of the matter, indicating that theproblem posed by his conduct had not disappeared in Christian areas other thanItalia. The question of how many of Stephen’s business partners were Christians alsoremains open. For the last quoted report: ASM, A.D.S., Potenze Estere, Venezia,cart. 365, 1477, fasc. 11, Novembre, nn; 14th of November 1477. There could be moreto the ‘Templar story’ in this eastern respect too. According to one of the firstmodern Romanian Scholars, Gheorghe Asachi (1788-1869), Stephen III’s planwas to recover Caffa with his troops on land and with maritime support from Portugeseknights (‘Valea Albã’ [The White Valley], in Idem, Cântecul cignului [The Song ofthe Cygne], edited by Elena CHIRIAC (Khishinev, 1998), pp. 280-320, here p.302). On one hand, the Portugese Knights (i.e. the Order of Christ) were basicallythe sole legitimate form of independent survival of the Knights Templar after their


trial (most ‘repented’ Templar were reinserted as Knights Hospitaller) and also provedrather active on crusader soils. On the other hand, archival (re)discoveries haveconfirmed the information extracted and developed from the now lost Moldavianprincely archive in the late 1700s and early 1800s (for instance, see in comparisonto the abovementioned Venetian crusader project of spring 1475 presented by Morosiniin Rome the data edited by M. CAZACU, ‘Un voyageur dans les pays roumainset son Histoire de la Moldavie : Leyon Pierce Balthasar von Campenhausen (1746-1808)’, in Naþional ºi universal în istoria Românilor. Studi oferite Profesorului ªerbanPapacostea cu ocazia împlinirii a 70 de ani [National and Universal in the History ofthe Romanians: Festschrift ªerban Papacostea], edited by Ovidiu CRISTEA andGheorghe LAZÃR (Bucharest, 1997), pp. 402-417).

AbstractIdeological and Practical Means of Survival

in Front of the Ottoman Empire in the Late 1400s

In the summer of 1476, Mehmed II had attacked Moldavia. Neither he nor his opponentsaccomplished their goals. Still, it was his army and not the crusaders who was hastly retreating. Yetthe Christian coalition had suffered several political (do-mestic) and military losses. The regionalanti-Ottoman picture brightened after the suc-cessful Hungarian-Moldavian intervention in Walachiain October-November. Yet, by early 1477, the Ottoman reaction had turned those victories intohistory. Mehmed II eliminated the military positions won throughout the year 1476, by Hungaryand Molda-via, along the Lower Danube, the Morava and the Sava. By early 1477, the need forWestern subsidies was therefore once more particularly great at Christendom’s border.

KeywordsCrusading, ideology, Ottoman Empire, Moldavia, Hungary


“THE PROBLEM of the sea is a problem of reason“1 asserted GheorgheBrãtianu, in 1943, at the end of the lecture course held at the Faculty of Philosophyand Letters, entitled The Black Sea Question. The beginning of the twentieth cen-tury made the Straits, the Black Sea and the Danube essential issues on the diplo-matic agenda of the Great Powers, be they part of that space or not2. Borrowingthe expression of H. A. Gibbons – „for so long as there is water in the BlackSea and wheat on the steppes of Russia there will always the issue of the Straits“3

– Gheorghe Brãtianu considered, that the future of the Black Sea depended onthe way in which the Great Powers, but also the coastal states, succeeded, inthe light of postwar agreements, to harmonise their interests4. In the histori-an’s view, the Black Sea space placed Romania, from the perspective of geopo-litical developments and power relations, in an essential position for the dynam-ics of universal history.

The outbreak of the Second World War returned the Black Sea space to theattention of the Great Powers. The signature of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pactconsiderably altered the fragile balance in Central-Eastern Europe. Competitionfor supremacy in the Black Sea region was opened, the Great Powers begin-ning a complicated diplomatic game with at stake not only the drawing of spheresof influence in the Balkans, but also in the Near East. Motivated by specific inter-ests, Great Britain, Germany and Soviet Russia threw themselves into a race toobtain control of the Black Sea and of the Bosphorus Straits.

The loss of Bessarabia reopened the dossier of the assertion of Soviet interestsin the Danube and the Black Sea5, a fact underlined by Molotov in Berlin, inNovember 1940. The mandate of the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs includ-

Geopolitics and strategies in the Black Sea region

1939-1947

MIOARA ANTON


ed three issues of particular importance to the Soviet foreign policy agenda:the Black Sea, the Straits and Bulgaria. On the other hand, the German ForeignMinister, von Ribbentrop, stressed from the outset of discussions with Molotov,on 12 November 1940, that in the eventuality of the ending of the war theAxis powers needed to formulate a common policy towards Turkey, which meantthe modification of the Straits regime and the abolition of the InternationalCommission of the Danube: „[...] The Reich Foreign Minister further declaredthat in this connection he understood completely Russia’s dissatisfaction with theStraits Convention of Montreux. Germany was more dissatisfied, for she had notbeen included in it at all. Personally he (The Reich Foreign Minister) was ofthe opinion that the Montreux Convention like the Danube Commissions mustbe scrapped and replaced by something new. [...] It was clear that Soviet Russiacould not be satisfied with the present situation. Germany found the idea accept-able that in the Black Sea, Soviet Russia and the adjacent countries should en-joy certain privileges over other countries of the world”6.

Molotov did not greet the German proposals with enthusiasm. He indicat-ed that there had to be clarified the issues concerning the german militarypresence in Finland, the Balkans, and especially the functioning of the TripartitePact. At the same time, the Soviet side was interested in finding out to whatextent Germany would respect the interests of the USSR in Romania, Bulgaria,and Turkey. If these aspects were clarified, Ribbentrop was to discuss personallywith Stalin the details concerning the modification of power relations in theBlack Sea region7. Hitler stressed that there existed in Europe regions where theinterests of the three powers (Soviet Russia, Germany and Italy) intersected.What united them was the common desire to have free access to the sea: forGermany the essential thing was the North Sea, Italy wished to pass beyondGibraltar, while Russia would clear a passage towards the ocean8. But in the viewof the Soviet Foreign Minister full control of the Black Sea region could beensured, on the one hand, by the modification of the Straits regime, and onthe other, by the deployment of Soviet military forces on the Bulgarian coast:„Molotov added that Russia wanted to obtain a guarantee against an attackon the Black Sea via the Straits not only on paper but ’in reality’ and believedthat she could reach an agreement with Turkey in regard thereto. In this con-nection he came back again to the question of the Russian guarantee to Bulgariaand repeated that the internal regime of the country would remain unaffected,whereas on the other hand Russia was prepared to guarantee Bulgaria an out-let to the Aegean Sea”9.

Both the German foreign minister and Hitler asserted during these meet-ings that German interests concerned more the issue of the Danube than thatof the Black Sea, which had a secondary strategic importance for the Reich.


The German presence in the Balkans was motivated only by war aims, Germanybeing uninterested in extending her influence in this space. Once war withGreat Britain had ended, Germany would have no more reason to maintainmilitary forces in the Balkans: „The Führer replied that he could not under anycircumstances take a position before he had talked with the Duce, since Germanywas interested in the matter only secondarily. As a great Danubian power she wasinterested only in the Danube River, but not in the passage into the Black Sea.For if she were perchance looking for sources of friction with Russia, she wouldnot need the Straits for that”10. In Molotov’s opinion all the issues concerningthe status of the Soviet Union on the Black Sea had to be effectively guaran-teed by all the Axis powers: „For the Soviet Union, as the most importantBlack Sea Power, it was a matter of obtaining effective guarantees of her secu-rity. In the course of her history, Russia had often been attacked by way of theStraits. Consequently paper agreements would not suffice for the Soviet Union;rather, she would have to insist on effective guarantees for her security”11.

The German plans foresaw a new sharing out of spheres of influence notonly in Europe, but also in Africa and Asia, the Soviet Union being invited toally herself with the Axis states. In one of the secret protocols accompanyingthe draft treaty it was underlined that „Germany, Italy and Soviet Union will workin common toward the replacement of the Montreux Straits Convention nowin force by another convention. By this convention Soviet Union would be grant-ed the right of unrestricted passage of its navy trough the Straits at any time, where-as all other Powers except the other Black Sea countries, but including Germanyand Italy, would in principle renounce the right of passage to the Straits fortheir naval vessels. The passage of commercial vessels trough the Straits would,of course, have to remain free in principle”12. The German proposals were muchtoo vague, Moscow indicating in its response of 25 November 1940 the condi-tions under which the Soviet Union would ally herself with the Tripartite Pact:the withdrawal of German troops from Finland, the safeguard of Soviet inter-ests in the Straits through the signature of a pact of mutual aid with Bulgariaand the establishment of naval and land military bases which would protect theBulgarian coast and offer the possiblity of rapid intervention in the Bosphorus andDardanelles; the recognition of the south of the Batum and Baku regions, andespecially that of the Persian Gulf, as belonging to the sphere of interests of theSoviet Union; the guarantee that Japan gave up its claims on the Sakhalin islands13.

However, Soviet demands entered into conflict with German plans for SouthEastern Europe, the Reich being directly interested, from the perspective ofmilitary operations, in preventing Soviet Russia from taking control of theBlack Sea basin. The meeting in Berlin raised numerous question marks in thediplomatic circles of the time. In Moscow, Grigore Gafencu tried to decrypt


the meaning of the Soviet-German negotiations. In telegrams sent to Bucharestthe Romanian minister made out what was behind the show put on by Moscowand Berlin: „Russia has thus had the opportunity to remind us again of the direc-tion in which her interests stretch. There have been talks about the Straits. TheGerman would like to talk more. But the Russians have abstained from mak-ing any declarations. In line with the habits of Soviet politicians, Russia has definedonly the zone of interests in which she is always ready to profit from, but has notwanted to tie herself to anything so long as the war has not yet ended”14. The fail-ure of the negotiations in Berlin represented a turning point not only for thedevelopment of Soviet-German relations, but also for the acceleration of the plansof the Great Powers for this space15. Even if, from a historical perspective, onecan speak of a constant in Russian/Soviet policy concerning the Black Sea re-gion and especially the Straits, what becomes clear for the period of the SecomdWorld War is the fact that the strategies of Moscow were directly influenced bythe development of military operations. The German aggression of June 1941obliged Soviet Russia to give priority to the problems raised by the unfoldingmilitary operations on its territory.

Soviet interest manifested itself explicitly in the course of 1942-1943, as theyemphasised in the tripartite negotiations the strategic and military importance theBlack Sea region and Straits had for the USSR. Turkey became a key elementfor Allied strategies, especially for the British and Soviet ones. The efforts of Britishdiplomacy concentrated during this period to improving Soviet-Turkish rela-tions and eliminating the suspicions of the government in Ankara about theforeseable directions of Soviet policy in the Black Sea. But according to Britishreports, in 1942, Stalin displayed no interest in the modification of the Straitsregime16. In an attempt to win the goodwill of the government in Ankara, theBritish foreign minister, Anthony Eden, put to the War Cabinet, on 5 April 1942,a draft treaty accompanied by a joint declaration by both governments, Britishand Soviet, in which were laid out the conditions which both parties undertookto respect: „1. That the British and Soviet Governemnts had no agressive inten-tions or claims regarding the Straits; 2. that they remain faithful to the MontreuxConvention which regulated the regime of the Straits; 3. that both Governmentswere prepared to observe scrupulously the territorial integrity of the TurkishRepublic; 4. that both Governments were prepared to send Turkey every help andassistance in the event of her being attacked by an European Power“17.

Continued neutrality and resistance to the pressures coming from Berlinthen Moscow, put Turkey in an extremely difficult position. The course of mil-itary operations increased the vulnerability of the government in Ankara. Thefinancial agreement signed with Germany, in the summer of 1942, under whichTurkey received 100 million German marks for the acquisition of military


equipment, increased the concerns of the Foreign Office. According to AnthonyEden, „if the Germans fulfill their promises to supply this equipment withinsix months they will be supplying Turkey in a sixth of the time with three timesas much equipment as we have done. Present circumstances make it impossiblefor us to outbid this German offer ourselves and there seems little we can do“18.

The change of strategy in foreign policy bore the title of ‘active neutrality’,signalling that Turkey was trying to protect her interests regardless of the meansused. The fears of the Ankara government for its own security were accentuat-ed from the moment the USA entered the war. In the view of the Ankara gov-ernment, American aid helped to reinforce Soviet power in the Balkan region.The full assertion of Moscow’s interests was only a question of time, which obligedthe Turkish government to find rapid solutions. The rumours that both GreatBritain and the Soviet Union were negotiating for a separate peace with Germanyincreased the anxiety of Turkish official circles. The British success in Africa(October 1942) and especially the Soviet one at Stalingrad (November 1942-February 1943) led to an increase in Soviet-British pressure on Turkey to enterthe war. The top-level Turkish-British meeting of Adana (30-31 January 1943)was a failure for Churchill, who did not succeeed in convincing the Turkishofficials to join the Allies. The promise from the British prime minister that bothGreat Britain and the United States would guarantee the territorial integrity ofTurkey did not convince the Turkish officials. Fear of Russia urged caution. Besides,this was also the conclusion reached by Sir A. Cadogan in February 1943: „Theirreal preoccupation is, of course, Russia“19.

Entering the war would have exposed Turkey to a peril which could comefrom two directions: a German air attack or a Soviet intervention. Besides, Sovietpressures were to become manifest very early. At the Conferene of Foreign Ministersin Moscow (October 1943), Molotov insisted upon common action by the threealllies to ‘suggest convincingly’ to Turkey that she enter the war. Molotov declaredthat it was the right of the allies to request that Turkey immediately enter the warand the duty of the government in Ankara to submit unconditionally to them.According to the report sent by the American ambassador in Moscow, AverelHarimann, to President Roosevelt „the Russian have the primitive view that theyhave suffered and bled to destroy Hitler and see no reason why the Turcs shouldnot do the same if it came help shorten the war. They honestly believe thatentry of Turkey will force the Germans to move a considerable number of divi-sions from the Eastern front. In posing this demand they are entirely indiffer-ent to any moral or actual obligation to assist the Turcs in fighting the Germans“20.

The Conference of Foreign Ministers in Moscow represented a real test forBritish diplomacy. The aims of Soviet foreign policy were becoming ever moreindecipherable. Churchill was led to recommend that „the first step is to find out


what we and the Russians want and what will help both of us most“21. Stalin alsoexpressed reservations about Turkey’s immediate entry into the war, consider-ing useless the efforts of the allies. In conversation with Eden, Stalin stressed that„Turkey’s entry would not be necessary next year and that arms which we andUnited States were supplying would have been wasted. If Turkey wanted to beat the conference table to stake her claims, she must earn her place.[...] Stalinadded that, as soon as Turkey moved, the Balkan situation would become diffi-cult for Hitler“22. At the end of the conference of representatives of the three allies,they agreed to request Turkey’s entry into the war by the end of 1943. The inten-tions of the allies met the firm opposition of the government in Ankara, whichgave as reasons the lack of military equipment, as well as the absence of a trai-ned army capable of meeting a German attack. On the other hand, Turkey in-sisted upon guarantees of security, which might shelter her from an eventual Sovietmilitary intervention: „Numan [Menemencioðlu] was particularly concerned withregard to the possibility of Russian penetration into the Balkans. He talked a greatlenght on this point and said Turkey would desire to have assurances Sovietsdid not contemplate acquiring territory [or] bassis in Balkans or establishingits domination over that region“23. Soviet-British insistence was met with scep-ticism by the American administration. For the USA Turkey’s entry into thewar would have put into danger military operations in western Europe. Rooseveltconsider that bringing Turkey into the war could only happen by diplomaticmeans and with important promises (guarantees for territorial security and thedelivery of military equipment).

If up until 1942-1943, Turkey’s entry into the war was essential to disturb-ing the southern flank of the German front, at the Teheran conference, Stalinmade no more pressure in this direction. The plans of the Soviet leader aimedto block British initiatives, especially those concerning a possible landing inthe Balkans. Although Turkey’s entry into the war might have opened the wayto the Balkans, Stalin insisted that the allied landing in northern France was muchmore important. The Soviet leader’s sudden loss of interest has two explanations:on the one hand, the possible secret peace negotiations with the Germand thatcould have obtained the promise of control upon the Dardanelles, on the otherhand, and more probably, the elimination of the American and British pres-ence in the Balkans: „On December 22 [1943] the Chief of the Imperial GeneralStaff reported to the War Cabinet that Stalin had shown little interest in the Balkansituation or in the opening of the Straits. He said that the Russians did notseem grasp the military advantages to be gained in that part of the world, thoughtheir apparent lack of interest might have sprung from other motives“24.

The military successes of the allies in the spring-summer of 1944, but espe-cially th presence of the Red Army in the Balkans, did not make Turkey’s entry


into the war opportune. The relations with Germany were broken in 2 August1944, when it was obvious that the balance of the war was tipping against theReich, while the Soviet offensive in the south-east made the government in Ankararevise its foreign policy. According to an assessment by the Foreign Office, atthe beginning of 1944, the Straits represented an important zone of security asmuch for Britain as for Russia and any unilateral act could have critical conse-quences for bilateral relations. Grigore Gafencu realised that as soon as she hadreached the mouth of the Danube, Soviet Russia was opening an important breachin order to dominate the Balkans and the Straits.

Besides, it was what the former ambassador to London, Ivan Maisky, had rec-ommended, who proposed in a memorandum to Molotov, in January 1944,the increase in Soviet influence in the Balkans through the signing a pact of mutu-al aid with Romania, Bulgaria and Yugoslavia and the undermining of the posi-tion of Turkey on the Straits. From the strategic point of view, it was impor-tant that the Soviet Union maintained influence in Iran through the renewal ofthe treaty with Great Britain (and eventually the inclusion of the Soviet Union)so long as lines of communication could be kept with the Gulf zone. Ivan Maisky’sprogramme was more ambitious than what Stalin and Molotov wanted in No-vember 1940, and went far beyond the traditional frontiers of influence of theSoviet Union25.

The discussions in Moscow, in October 1944, had, besides, to deal with thedifferences over the issue of the Straits. In Stalin’s opinion, changing the MontreuxConvention was both just and moral. The presence of Soviet troops on theBulgarian territory facilitated access to the Straits. But if Churchill was in agree-ment with the idea of the presence of Russian ships in the Mediterranean, hedid not commit himself to the sealing of an agreement concerning the Straitsregime26: „Stalin said if Great Britain was interested in the Mediterranean, Russiawas equally interested in the Black Sea“27.

The change in the course of the war influenced Soviet plans for taking con-trol of the Black Sea and extending influence in the Mediterranean28. The disputeover the Straits subsequently attracted the attention of the USA, whose inter-est in the Black Sea zone was marginal until then. From the perspective of theState Department, the USA did not have special interests in this space, whilethe status quo could be maintained if the Soviet Union respected MontreuxConvention. The State Department’s assessments proved to be mistaken. Atthe Yalta Conference, of February 1945, Stalin apparently expressed his discon-tent with the administration of the Straits and the control exerted by Turkey overthem29: „Stalin gave notice of his intention to raise the question of revision ofConvention. He said that is intolerable for Russia to have to beg the Turks tolet her ships go through the Straits. The regime of the Straits should be similar


to that of the Suez Canal. [...] It was impossible to put up with a situation inwhich ‘a small state like Turkey could keep a hand on the throat of a large coun-try like Russia’“30.

Consequently in March 1945, the Soviet Union denounced the neutrality treatysigned with Turkey in 1925, for the reason that the new geopolitical conditionsdemanded new instruments for regulating the Straits regime. A few monthslater, in June 1945, the Soviets brought to the knowledge of the government inAnkara their demands for the settlement of the situation in the Black Sea zone:territorial concessions in the Caucasus (the provinces of Kars, Ardahan and Atvin),the common defence of the Straits and the revision of the Montreux Convention31.As a consequence Soviet pressure on the government in Ankara intensified,being advanced as much as territorial claims as of modification of the adminis-tration of the Straits32. Soviet demands provoked a diplomatic storm. Controlof the Straits meant not only cutting British lines of communication, but alsoensured Soviet dominance in the Middle East, through the creation of a securi-ty zone for the Caucasus oil field: „[...] if Russian persisted in their demandsfor bases in the Dardanelles we should try to get the question reffered to the WorldOrganisation and not leave it to be setteled bilaterally between Russia and Turkey“33.

Soviet pressures caused a revision and reorientation of American policy con-cerning the issue of the Straits. Numerous analyses and documents by the StateDepartment considered that the Soviet Union was far too weak to start a newwar, that it was not particularly interested in territorial acquisitions, her demandstargetting only the Straits regime. The American ambassador to Ankara, Steinhardt,considered that its modification served the long term interests of the Soviet Union,which had remained unchanged since 1939-1940. The immediate aim was reduc-ing British influence in the Black Sea region, and for five reasons: „1. Jointfree access to and egress from the Black Sea to the Soviet vessels of every typein times of war as well as in time of peace while denying the same to not-BlackSea Powers in times of war or threatened conflict; 2. Automatically constituteTurkey an Ally of the Soviet Union in any future war involving the Soviets; 3.Oblige Turkey to sustain the first impact of any contemplated attack on the SovietBlack Sea Ports; 4. Eliminate the Great Britain from any direct voice in thecontrol and administration of the Straits; 5. Enhance Soviet and dismish Britishprestige throughout the Balkans and the Middle East“34.

The Potsdam Conference was the moment when the American side defineda strategy for the Black Sea space. President Truman announced that the USAassumed responsibility for maintaining a regime of free navigation on the Straits.Truman stated in his memoirs the motives for the USA intervening in the set-tlement of Soviet-British disagreements concerning the Straits: „I said the atti-tude of the American government was that the Montreux Convention should


be revised. I thought, however, that the Straits should be a free waterway opento the whole world and that they should be guaranteed by all of us....“35.

The question of the Straits was to be brought up again in London, in September1945, at the conference of Foreign Ministers. Molotov, following the instructionsreceived from Stalin, made the proposal that the Soviet Union could have navalbases in Libya, which gave the Soviet fleet access to the Mediterranean36. Onthe other hand, Turkey needed the safeguard that she would not lose territory,while her independence would not be affected by the modification of the MontreuxConvention. The status of the Straits, the reconciliation of allied interests inIran and the future of colonial possessions were discussed in London, but thesolutions outlined were far from satisfying the participants. Turky and Iranwere opening the series of confrontations which were to mark relations betweenthe Great powers throughout the Cold War.

Tensions between the Allies grew in the course of 1946. Signals received bythe Kremlin warned that the Anglo-Americans were prepared to oppose Sovietinitiatives, by war if necessary37. The Black Sea found itself the object of a con-flict whose causes were to be found in the reopening of competition for con-trol of the region. The end of the war brought an important change in the bal-ance of forces in the Black Sea space. The United States replaced Great Britainin the Black Sea region and the Straits. The launch of the Truman Plan (March1947), but especially its military component, placed the USA in the coordi-nates of the peripheral security strategy. The outbreak of the Cold War and Turkey’sadherence to the Marshall Plan left the Straits out of Soviet control and announcedthe beginning of new stages in the shaping of centres of power and domina-tion in the Black Sea region.

Disputes over the control of the Black Sea have therefore represented a do-minant note in the economy of the Second World War. At stake in the powergames was the partial or total domination of the Black Sea basin, which wouldensure one or the other Great Powers control of trade routes and access to Europeand Central Asia. The beginning of the Cold War meant the control of the USSRover two thirds of the shores of the Black Sea. Moscow’s attention was direct-ed especially at Turkey, the only state in the zone which did not enter her sphereof influence. Soviet pressures on Turkey created much activity on the diplo-matic level. The result was Turkey shifting from the status of neutrality to thatof an ally of the United States and her transformation into an enemy of the SovietUnion. The issue of Turkey was constantly on the Soviet diplomatic agenda, whilstpressure upon the government in Ankara, even if it lessened after Stalin’s death,continued throughout the period of the Cold War.

�


Notes

1. Gheorghe Brãtianu, Chestiunea Mãrii Negre. Curs. 1942-1943, (Bucharest, 1943),752.

2. Two major themes remained in the attention of specialists: the regime of the Danubeand of the Straits, this being analysed from different perspectives, of internationallaw, the balance of power and politico-military developments. The imposition of theCommunist regime entailed the abandonment of these directions of research.Preoccupations with Balck Sea studies were limited to antiquity, Byzantine ruleand the Ottoman legacy. At the beginning of the 1970s research relating to theBalkans, the Danube and the Black Sea was reinvigorated. There were in this con-text a series of books authored by Iulian Cârþânã, Ilie Seftiuc, România ºi problemaStrâmtorilor, (1974), Constantin Buºe, Comerþul exterior prin Galaþi sub regimul deport franc (1837-1883), (1976), Gheorghe Cazan, ªerban Rãdulescu-Zoner, Româniaºi Tripla Alianþã (1979) et al. After 1990, interest in the Black Sea has grown,with studies reconnecting with the traditional preoccupations of pre-war Romanianhistoriography. A first initiative in this direction was the publication of the resultsof Romanian researchers, but also of those from abroad in the shape of an interna-tional periodical entitled „Il Mar Nero“.

3. Gh. Brãtianu, 680.4. In the historian’s view, the issue of petrol – an extremely pressing one at the begin-

ning of the 21st century – was to become a determining factor for the shaping ofpolitical strategies and the configuration of power plays in the Black Sea space. Presentdevelopments can not be fully understood if we do not know the permanent featuresof the Black Sea space, but especially the nature of the confrontations which tookshape during the Second World War.

5. Relaþiile româno-sovietice. Documente. vol. II, 1935-1941, (Bucharest, 2003), 265;Grigore Gafencu, Preliminarii la rãzboiul din Rãsãrit, (Bucharest, 1996), 64-68.

6. Nazi-Soviet Relations. 1939-1941. Documents from the Archives of the German ForeignOffice, eds. Raymond James Sontag, James Stuart Beddie (1948), 222-223; seealso Ian Kershaw, Hitler, (London, 2008), 585-586.

7. Nazi-Soviet Relations. 1939-1941..., 224.8. Ibid., 229.9. Ibid., 246.

10. Ibid. The issue of the Danube was addressed at a special conference held in Vienna,on 12 eptember 1940, but to which the Soviet Union was not invited. Moscowexpressed its surprise and communicated via the Foreign Minister that the issue ofthe Danube was linked to ‘Russian vital interests’. But as was also observed in Bucharest,the theory of vital interests would only find support to the extent in which Moscowproposed the extension of its power over the Straits, using its domination of theDanubei: „The Danube is seen by the Kremlin as an ideal way of penetrating theheart of Europe, to achieve the encirclement of the Straits, be in the South throughBulgaria and Yugoslavia, or in the Baltic, through Czechoslovakia, Germany andDenmark”. Arhivele Ministerului Afacerilor Externe (AMAE), Fond 71, România,


vol. 514, fila 539; Andreas Hilgruber, Hitler, regele Carol al II-lea ºi mareºalul Antonescu.Relaþiile româno-germane (1938-1944) (Bucharest, 1994), 140-143.

11. Nazi-Soviet Relations. 1939-1941..., 252.12. Ibid., 257-258.13. Ibid., 258-259. For the German plans for war against the Soviet Union, see also

Ian Kershaw, Fateful Choices. Ten Decisions that Changed the World. 1940-1941 (London,2008), 77, 83.

14. Grigore Gafencu, Misiune la Moscova. 1940-1941 (Bucharest, 1995), 110.15. The Foreign Office an the Kremlin. British Documents on Anglo-Soviet Relations, 1941-

1945, ed. Graham Ross (London, 1984), 8.16. L. Woodward, British Foreign Policy in the Second World War, vol. IV (London, 1975), 81.17. Ibid., 85. At the same time, the proposals to the Turkish government signified a def-

inition of Soviet-British joint aims, but also a recognition of the Soviet territorial acqui-sitions of 1939-1940: „The Foreign Office would suggest to the Soviet Governmentat the outset of the negotiations a declaration to the following effect: 1. that the motivesof the two Governments in deciding to conclude the treaty was the better to pursuetheir common objects of defeating Germany; 2. the British Governments would recog-nise the right of the Soviet Government to their 1941 frontiers in Finland, the BalticStates and Roumania as they existed before the German invasion (the frontier betweenPoland and the Soviet Union being reserved for future negotiation). We considerthat it was a much in our interests as in those of the Soviet Governemnts that the SovietUnion should thus recover her strategic position in order to ensure that Germanywas not again in a position to violate the peace of Europe“.

18. Apud Selim Deringil, Turkish Foreign Policy during the Second World War: an ‚activeneutrality’ (Cambridge, 2004), 136; see also British relations with Turkey from January1942 to June 1943..., 90.

19. Ibid., 118.20. November 4. The Ambasador in the Soviet Union to the President. Summary of Soviet

attitudes on international cooperations Turkey, Sweden, the „Second Front“, Germany,the French Committee, Soviet Frontiers, Poland and Iran, in Foreign Relations ofthe United States. Diplomatic Papers. The Conferences at the Cairo and Tehran, 1943,(FRUS) (Washington, 1961), 153 http://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/FRUS.FRUS1943 CairoTehran

21. L. Woodward, vol. VI, 143.22. Ibid., 144.23. November 10. The Chargé (Kelley) to the President, the Secretary of State, and the Under

Secretary of State. Report on the Eden-Menemencioðlu talks regarding Turkish airbasis and the possible entry of Turkey into the war, in Ibid., 175. In the Autumnof 1943, was created in the State Department the working group The InterdivisionalCountry on Turkey which in a first analysis entitled The Regime of the Turkish Straitsindicated four solutions for settling the settlement of its status: maintaining the stip-ulations of the Convention of Montreux, internationalisation, the entry under Sovietcontrol or the sharing of control between all states on the Black Sea. On closeanalysis it has been iobserved that the three solutions were unacceptiable for both


Turkey and the Soviet Union. See also Emanuel Plopeanu, Politica Statelor Unite faþãde Turcia între anii 1943 ºi 1952. De la neimplicare la alianþã (Iaºi, 2009), 62.

24. L. Woodward, vol. VI, 166.25. Vladimir O. Pechatnov, The Big Three after World War II: New Documents of Soviet

Thinking about Post War Relations with The United States and Great Britain, in „ColdWar International History Project Working Papers Series”, May 1995,

26. S.M. Plokhy, Yalta. The Price of Peace, Viking Penguin Group (New York, 2010), 146-147.

27. Russian demands at the Moscow and Yalta Conference for the revision of MontreuxConvention; British attitude to the Russian demands..., in British Foreign Policy in theSecond World War..., vol. VI, 202.

28. Vladimir O. Pechatnov, „The Allies are Pressing on you to break your will...”. ForeignPolice Correspondence between Stalin and Molotov and other Politburo Members, September1945-November 1946, in „Cold War International History Project Working PapersSeries”, 26, (1999): 3.

29. S.M. Plokhy, 281; L. Woodward, vol. VI, 201-210.30. Ibid., 204.31. Eduard Mark, The War Scare of 1946 and its Consequences, „Diplomatic History“, vol.

1, 3 (1997): 388; L. Woodward, vol. VI, 206-210.32. Eduard Mark, The War Scare of 1946 ..., 388, 383.33. Russian demands on Turkey..., 209.34. Ankara, March 26, 1945. The Ambassador in Turkey (Steinhardt) to the Secretary of

State, in FRUS, 1945, vol. VIII, 1227.35. Harry S. Truman, Memoirs. Years of Decisions, (New York), (1955), 415.36. Vladimir O. Pechatnov, „The Allies are Pressing on you to break your willThe War

Scare of 1946...

AbstractGeopolitics and strategies in the Black Sea region. 1939-1947

During the Second World Wat the Black Sea has represented a key region for the formation of cen-tres of power at the global level and decisively influenced the relations between the Great Powers.The Black Sea thus emerges as one of the first regions where the contradictions between theGreat Powers fully manifested themselves, which moreover demonstrates its importance as a geopo-litical and geostrategic space. The aim of this paper is to identify the lines of force which havemarked the development of the Black Sea region in the period of the Second World War, follow-ing not only the nature of the interests (military, political, strategic and economic), which havemotivated the Great Powers, but also those of the countries on its coast-line (maintaining theterritorial status quo and ensuring security).

KeywordsSecond World War, the Great Powers, the Black Sea region, the Montreux Convention, Turkey


WITH THE communication revolution of the 20th century, some “uncon-ventional” historical sources were added to the “classical” ones. Therefore, thehistorians began to reckon the political cartoons as trustworthy historical sources.They contain numerous clues regarding the political struggles of those times,strategies, beliefs, misjudgements and, thus, they make a sensitive refining ofthe second half of the last century. The political cartoons not only illustrate thenews and they are not only used to complete ideas and texts previously dissem-inated, but they can be graphic editorials and, by this nature, they interpret agiven fact, make value judgments and shape our opinions1. Most of the time,these cartoons tell the readers what to think and how to assimilate a politicalanalysis: amused, empathetic, angry, afraid and so on. As close relatives ofjokes they create different moods. Hence, they emphasize a political discourseand synthesises it into a metonymical image, easy to understand.

Since cartoons transpose abstract ideas into concrete situations they may beconsidered encyclopaedias of popular culture. Because a wide audience mustunderstand them, the cartoonists use allusions, suggestions and stereotypes, claim-ing the right to distort, to reduce a character or phenomenon to an essential char-acteristic. Moreover, people have always used pictures in everyday communica-tion because the information is more accurately understood when it is visualized.The data transmitted in this manner increase the receiver’s possibilities to observeand understand the messages2. Thomas Kemnitz studied more closely this ideaand argued that: „The cartoons have much to offer the historian concernedwith public opinion and popular attitudes. Not only can cartoons provide insightinto the depth of emotion surrounding attitudes, but also into the assumptionsand illusions on which opinions are formed”3.

Shaping the Image of the Enemy in the Political Cartoons

During the Cold War

PAUL NISTOR


Researchers have failed to clearly demonstrate if there is a precise relationof determination between images and political strategies. However, it is obvi-ous that the political cartoons have a significant influence. In the case of inter-national relations, humorous graphic enables us to understand the ways in whichthe image of one country is reflected in the imagery of another country4. Eventhough cartoons do not have a clearly defined role in shaping political attitudes,most of the time they reflect spontaneous interpretations, common places,simplified or even brutal perceptions. One thing is certain: cartoons transcendthe political and linguistic boundaries, taking advantage of two hypostasis ofthe social laughter: amusing and, at the same time, offensive. The humorouscartoons use both irrationalism and surrealism. They address to a heterogeneousaudience, using common symbols, easily to be understood by various groups.The political cartoons often employ entertaining ideas that are, however, pro-duced for an adult audience. Paradoxically, they claim to be revealing the truthby the very fact that they are mocking the reality5. Often it is said that graph-ics may play the role of a buffoon and, with its help, one is able to say seriousthings, and also to suffer the consequences for this. The cartoon presents imbal-anced facets: either it exaggerates one of the real features of the character byidentifying the individual with that feature, either it assigns a weakness that orig-inates not from the subject’s way of being but from the way he is perceivedby the others.

The Cold War highlighted the relation between the political message andthe devices of visual humour. The Soviet cartoons from the beginning of the post-war period seemed to be special entities, meant to maintain a permanent aver-sion against the West. In their case, there wasn’t a humorous purpose as in theWestern case, and they weren’t necessarily focused on major events. They servedas additional tools of persuasion, confirming the communist ideas previously pro-moted through other means6. Cartoons accompanied the newspaper texts inthe Eastern Europe, in order to enhance the verbal messages. Furthermore,cartoons conduct the aggressiveness of the masses, building national psychoses7.

There is another special feature of the communist graphics. Even thoughthe political and social cartoons were separated species, with different ele-ments8, the communists have found a way to merge them into one. Therefore,the international criticism was doubled by the social one, the Occident waspresented as a political and financial aggressor, responsible for the poor economicconditions in the Eastern Europe.

The Romanian cartoons of the ‘50s faithfully copied the Soviet ones, adopt-ing styles and themes very popular in the USSR9. In their turn, the Soviet car-toons were a part of a cultural identity that was gradually built. Jokes, pranks andthe political satires offer a very rich source of study and understanding of theSoviet culture. More specifically, they provide information about the represen-


tations the Soviets had about themselves and the outside world10. In this regard,we observe that the official ideology of the East enabled the construction ofnew identities through predominantly negative impulses, which made the enemylook and act like a demon and supported the superiority of communism.

The dominant theme of all the Soviet-style cartoons that criticized the Westernopponent was the anti-Americanism. America played different roles: ruler ofEurope, war instigator, aggressor, moneylender, a cunning partner and a bloodyexecutioner. Even though America was the main target not all its symbols wereused in those cartoons11, and the attention was diverted only to certain pictori-al elements. Of all the logos which represented the United States through his-tory: Pocahontas, Columbia, Yankee Doodle, Brother Jonathan and Uncle Sam,the Soviets chosen and obstinately used the latter one12. Thus, the Soviet prop-aganda, especially through “Krokodil” magazine, took Uncle Sam and trans-formed him from an altruistic patriot into a loyal representative of capitalism:a cunning man and a fortune hunter.

In the inter-war period, the anti-Americanism was widely spread in the com-munist countries and capitalist third world countries where it was fashionableto complain of Washington’s world domination. However, compared with otheranti-Americanisms, the Soviet one was particularly virulent. For example, in LatinAmerica, the anti-Americanism didn’t mean opposition against American cultureand values but to large corporations, political and military power of the UnitedStates13. In the Soviet case, the irrational anti-Americanism was based on theobsessive distortion of several lifestyle particularities from across the Atlantic.Finally, the hatred against America personified the Russian nationalism and a wayto reject modernization and capitalism14.

Even in Romania, the political cartoon became one of the major tools of com-munist propaganda, inserted in almost all the newspapers and important mag-azines. During the ‘50s it copied the Soviet themes, efficiently promoting theRomanian Workers’ Party (P.M.R.) doctrine through a coarse messages and sim-plistic humorous graphics. The importance of political cartoons for the propa-ganda in behalf of the new post-war Romanian regime was proven when, fromthose newspapers who mocked the West, images were extracted and used inalbums and travelling exhibitions. Starting with the year 1950, the RomanianSociety for Friendship with the Soviet Union and the Standing Committee on Defenceof Peace in the Romanian People’s Republic began to publish several albums ofthis kind. Their headlines indicate the propagandistic role they played during thattime: „Cartoon: Weapon of peace”, „For a lasting peace”, „Against war insti-gators” and „War instigators” 15. The graphic was signed by Soviet and Romaniancartoonists. Many Romanian cartoonists began to work in the inter-war peri-od, but starting with the year 1947 they became actors in the propaganda cam-paigns of the new government. Cartoonists such as: Ion Doru, Nell Cobar,


N. Jurãscu, Rik Auerbach, Eugen Taru, Cik Damandian, Aurel Jiquidi became,to some extent, famous through their cartoons16.

Usually, the cartoonists are social critics targeting internal politics. In times ofinternational crisis, internal criticism is stopped and the graphic artists partici-pate at the military efforts by mocking the enemies and by illustrating the supe-riority of one nation over another17. Although journalists and cartoonists havealways had the mission to motivate the societies involved in conflicts their tra-ditional mission radically changed once with the Cold War. Thus, the war wasconsumed in ideological confrontations rather than in armed conflicts. Alongwith other visual productions, Romanian satirical drawing became importantin the ‘50s. In a paper written in 1959, academician G. Oprea considered the car-toon to be “more able than other types of graphics to provide a moral portraitof an epoch, revealing for contemporaneity and posterity its most essentialfeatures” 18. Compared with what was happening in the West, data about theRomanian cartoonists, their training, work conditions, education and politicalaffiliation are lacking. This information would’ve helped us achieve a moreconcise analysis. In general, the Romanian cartoonist is anonymous and faith-ful to the Party, he is an official voice without claims of independence. Wedon’t know if these cartoonists knew that they were manipulating the public opin-ion, or if they considered themselves artists with a safe working place. Anyway,they had to show inventiveness, to transform private opinions into public feel-ings, to condense their artistic message into one graphic “sentence”.

For our analysis of the political cartoons from the beginning of the Cold Warwe’ve selected images from “Scânteia” newspaper, during the ‘50s. From thestart we would like to highlight a very important detail: Romanians and Romanianever appear in the satirical cartoons, neither explicitly, nor as symbols, personifi-cations or allegories. Instead, we encounter all sorts of representations of othernations (British, American, Greek, Russian, Chinese), of their countries, of Europe,Asia and America. This is a proof of the implicit recognition of the fact that theRomanian People’s Republic didn’t count on international relations, and theonly decider in the foreign politics of the East during the ’50 was the USSR.

At first sight, we see the recurrence of some themes based on visual persua-sion in the political cartoons from “Scânteia”19. In the case of the Romanianhumorous graphics, signs, figures, characters and stereotypes taken from a spe-cial imagistic vocabulary are used, with almost guaranteed effects.Different ele-ments with various origins are employed: human figures, maps, weapons, flags,political symbols (swastika, hammer and sickle), financial symbols (dollar, bankand banker). They seem heterogeneous and disproportionate but together theyform a condense super-symbol that the perceptual memory retains as a com-plete entity of high impact20. This assemble is maintained by the redundancy of


the employed motifs. Therefore, we encounter many repetitions such as: U.S.A.as dominator, U.S.A. as aggressor, Western Europe the aggressor of the com-munist Eastern Europe, Washington: the protector of the European Allies, Balkancountries with close relations with the West: mercenaries, the Eastern coun-tries: innocent victims. Subsequently, the accents presented in the drawings reap-pear: peace and war theme, the theme of capitalist greed, the theme of the Westernperfidy contrasted by the purity of the communist East. Not in the least, theRomanian cartoons were trying to impose some wide spread stereotypes: theWestern democracy was a fake; the West was incessantly preparing for war; theleaders of the capitalist countries were either bloodthirsty criminals or shrewdmoneylenders who hired mercenaries as executioners; U.S. brutally manipulat-ed its European satellites; there was a permanent global conspiracy against thecommunism, plotted by the Western political powers (graphically represented bythe political leaders), the religious power (the Papacy) and the financial powers(bank, banker).

Most of the time, several words (2-3 sentences) followed the cartoons. Theyadded messages that could not be expressed through images, and, in general,the small texts were constructed in a satirical or black humour way. The wordswere forcing the receiver to understand the message in a certain political code,and the depreciation of those who opposed the communism was required. Thus,the character that represented America was pulling out the hair of an English manwhile meditating “He loves me, he loves me not?”21. Uncle Sam was askingTito to hold free elections but, while handing him an axe, he added: “And, notto have any surprises, I’ve chosen the method for you” 22. For Tito other moralepigrams were created: “Through crimes, misdeeds and terror/ Their friend-ship was bound/ Three hook cross brothers/Wealthy peasant, Tito, bourgeoisie..”23.There were also cases of cartoons that weren’t accompanied by text, whichgave the impression that the reader must put his own words under the pictureas a reward for a correct understanding of the political message.

When creating the enemy’s image, the Romanians of the ‘50s didn’t usetransparent allusions, but defined as expressive as possible what the enemy wasor wasn’t. The use of these contrasts allowed the Easterners to retreat behindthe idea of “us and others.” The communists wanted to distinguish from the facesof the “others”, features that contained exclusively negative traits. They employedclassical clichés used in portraying the opponent24: enemy-killer, enemy- tortur-er, enemy-death, enemy-killer of women and children, enemy who starts thewar by himself25. The alterity had to be completely and violently displayed.There was no slightly sympathy for the enemy, and the opponent’s image hadto respect a very precise antithesis between the Good from the East and the Badfrom the West.


The Romanian cartoons, were mainly trying to demystify all the opponent’sstrengths, emphasizing his vices and his dark features through ruthless attacksagainst the Western values. These values were minimized, distorted, disclosedand accused of hypocrisy and shabbiness. Thus, the Liberty Statue was replacedby the image of a Ku-Klux-Klan member who instead of having a lightning torchhe was armed with a bat, symbol of repression26. The Western democracy wasprotected by a wolf with a swastika on its sleeve, also armed with a bat onwhich it was written “Made in USA”.27 The Voice of America, a symbol of thefree world, was presented as a network of angry spiders28, while the Western politi-cians worshiped various types of bombs29. After destroying the Western values,it followed the parade of human symbols representing the free world. The imageof the opponent countries was simplified and associated with the negative rep-utation of some political and military leaders. The West was symbolized by theprime-ministers of England and France, presented in ridiculous situations, byspies and soldiers marked with the Dollar sign, by “American generals armedwith guns”, by the Wall Street bankers sitting on bags full of money and smok-ing cigars, by the cunning Uncle Sam with warlike attitude, by the presidentsof the U.S. who were considered to be the instigators of the new world war30.Next to them sited the Pope who was giving a sarcastic blessing to all the aggres-sive plots of the West31. Tito receives an even harsher treatment as the Easternally of the U.S.A. He lost his human traits and he is often presented as a snake,frog, rat and other repulsive creatures that suggested the idea of betrayal and cun-ningness32. The classifications proposed by Ruxandra Cesereanu regarding thetypologies of violent languages that facilitate the degrading of the opponentmatches with the insults transmitted by these images. Thus, all the records regard-ing the aggressiveness of the Romanian imagery (subhuman, illegal, human “bes-tiary”, sanitary, funeral) are present to the smallest detail in “Scânteia’s” cartoons33.

We consider that propaganda through cartoons tried to introduce ethnicand professional stereotypes in order to distort the image of the opponent inthe Romanian collective mentality. This tactic was already used for almost twocenturies in the West34 and it was meant to provide a feeling of superiority tothose who created standards and set social etiquettes. Thus, Americans were placedin certain professional schemes that denoted dominance (the banker, the busi-nessman, the military), while their allies set on lower ranks, of servitude (barbers,small merchants and peasants).

The communist propagandists knew that during the war it was importantto demonize the opponent. Therefore, it wasn’t enough to mock the oppo-nent, but it had to use images to arouse hate. The aversion triggered throughpropaganda during the previous world wars was greatly appreciated35. For thisreason, the Westerner had to be found guilty of atrocious horrors: killing of


children, starving of people, sending rockets on which they previously paintedthe doves of peace36. In addition, these images had other roles; their use was away to create internal unity and solidarity between the communist countries.Then, while strongly suggesting how ferocious their opponents were, theCommunist leaders were posing as unselfish defenders of their own people. Finally,there was a deliberate cultivation of cultural violence against the “others”; here-by, the Easterners were educated to believe that the only way to relate to theWesterners was through aversion. Without any doubt, such a tactic justified,on the inside, the communist instauration, but, at the same time, it was usedto accustom the common citizens with the idea that the political and military vio-lence against enemies was absolutely normal, and it fall within the concept of self-defense37.

While focusing on making serious accusations against the West, the com-munist propaganda also launched several ideas meant to be tacitly accepted bythe public. The Evil must be judged and, more extremely, the Evil must beeliminated38. This entire violent imagery built on cartoons clearly justified theplans of a total and exterminator war that Moscow desired to enforce againstits opponents. Perhaps, it wasn’t that difficult to demonize the West of the‘50s, especially since the communist ideologists were often addressing to uned-ucated and poor people who had no idea about what America or the WesternEurope was. Former inter-war elites, diminished in numbers, were the onlyones who could see the lies of the propaganda launched by Dej regime. Inthese circumstances, we may assume that the anti-Americanism was fosteredby the ignorance, in which the common man was held; disbelief and fear exist-ed as long as class hatred, the lack of information and major ideological differ-ences between East and West existed39.

The Eastern enemies received a similar treatment. By far, America was a dom-inator with an iron hand over its own allies. In these cartoons, those who rep-resented France, England, Germany and Greece had smaller sizes than Americans,more sorrowful, pushed from behind by their guardians, paid with ridiculousamounts of money for sordid services, forced - almost against their will - tofight against the East40. In some images, the British lion appeared scrawny andhumble; in other images, the American wolf was guarding the democracy (aninnocent sheep) in England41. The visual structures in which the representativeof America appears with a whip in his hand, taming either a British lion or theleaders of France, Yugoslavia and Italia are quite frequent42.

Many of the themes used by the Soviet-style cartoons are taken from the Westernmedia. Even the Western newspapers, during the inter-war period, noticed thatAmerica was ready to subdue some parts of Europe and to become hegemonicin the Euro-Atlantic area43. The inferiority of the European allies to Washington


was suggested in various ways. The United States were always represented byUncle Sam or the president of U.S.A. (both in positions of power and self-con-fidence), while Western Europe was symbolized by helpless people, with obvi-ous physical problems (the British and French prime-minister were sitting on theirknees or walking on a wire to welcome the American diplomats) or by a woman,always inferior to men, without the ambition of emancipation44. Thus, the Easterndoctrinaires intended to make a clear distinction between the primary and the sec-ondary enemy. For this reason, the Western European countries were some-times spared, indicating the possibility of negotiations and arrangements withthese secondary opponents. However, depending on the daily events, these Europeanallies of Washington could’ve expanded their sizes and became threatening.There were several occasions in which the British, French and the Yugoslavswere portrayed as leading killers and torturers.

Another fully exploited theme in these cartoons was the war theme. Peace-war opposition fitted the antithesis of East-West. The first camp strived for the“good” of mankind, while the Western one wrathfully called for bloodshed. More“signs” taken from the military inventory were placed near the images of theWesterners. They were carrying guns, driving tanks, dressed in uniforms and boots,offering gifts in the shape of a bomb45. This entire arsenal induced the idea thatwar was a natural part of the capitalist lifestyle. The war is accompanied byNazi symbols and the image of death. Thus, Westerners seemed to have adopt-ed the German style helmets and armlets with swastika. They were equipped withsmoking guns, making their way through corpses, skulls and suffering victims46.

The Korean War enabled the full exploitation of this register that, due tothe horrors of the last world conflagration, triggered the predictable sensitivityof the Eastern part of Europe.

However, the war also establishes hierarchies: the Westerners were defeatedand the communists won. The image of General Mac Arthur, the American com-mander in the Far East, was obsessively used to “demonstrate” these battles ofwills47. Mac Arthur was presented only in shameful circumstances, such as flee-ing from the communist armies, falling in traps or trembling with fear whenthinking at his opponents. Instead, the communists were adjudging the winnerposition. North Korean army tongs threatened the U.S., Turkish and Frenchnations, and a muscular hand poked the North Korean flag in the body of anAmerican who was claiming to represent the Security Council48.

Contemporary times have confirmed that the weapon-cartoon is not that inno-cent. The Danish newspaper, Morgenavisen Jyllands Posten, which published 12caricatures of the Prophet Mohammed, launched, without knowing, not a graph-ical satire but a declaration of war. Similarly, the Dutch filmmaker Theo van Gogh,was murdered by a Moroccan citizen in 2004 on charges that he tainted the image


of a civilization. The 21st century finished what had begun in the 20th century:the declaration of war can be done thorough increasingly various means49.

The Soviets had instinctively activated phobias. Because Russia had beenattacked by Napoleon and Hitler, sister countries were told that they must beconstantly on guard, alerted to new invasions from the West. Paradoxically, whilerivals were accused of possible aggressions or violence, the Easterners didn’t reducetheir own violent culture. As in the case of other civilizations, here also a set ofaggressive images was perpetuated and the communist officials considered thatthey were entitled to threaten even in the name of defending the peace50. Atlast, only one party had to have a monopoly on morality, the enemy was inca-pable of defending himself in front of history whatsoever. In order to highlightthe inferiority of the Westerners, their representatives were illustrated throughimages that symbolized animals and birds. In this ranking, a significant placewas occupied by those creatures that produce disgust: spiders, snakes, frogs, owls.Invariably, these animals were illustrated as producing some evil actions, adeliberately, insidious and aggressive evil directed against ordinary people andagainst the communist countries. Often Tito appeared in the skin of these var-ious animals, followed by the U.S. Secretary of State, Acheson, who was depict-ed as a fox drooling near the lands of China, and Emperor Hirohito who turnedinto a rat spreading the plague51. The animal figures that symbolized the ene-mies of the East were angry, frown, sly, designed to trigger an immediate revul-sion. In order not to be misinterpreted, they wore on their bodies or on theirclothing accessories the brands of the West: British and American flags, Dollarsymbol -$, swastika, or clothing fashionable in the Western Europe52. If in thepast years, other “brands of identity”53 that took over some of the physical descrip-tions of those insulted (Hitler’s moustache, the nose of De Gaulle) were verypopular, in our case, more fashionable were those images that ridicule somesupposedly “national” symbols. These brands desired to establish a negativereputation not only for a single president but for the entire Western nations.

The theme of greed is omnipresent. The symbols of the Western banks: dol-lar, pound sterling and Wall Street are secondary elements, but smartly placedin all the cartoons. They produce the impression that everything is for sale andthat the possibility of betrayal and bribery is somehow imminent. The Americanswere buying their allies for a few pennies, secretly slipped inside their stretchedpalms, placing financial traps to the Balkan and European leaders, grabbing inthe Marshall Plan and Dollar chain the petty Westerners54. Even President Truman,in a prayer, had a halo over his head in the form of a shinny Dollar55; Tito wasspeaking into a microphone shaped after the dollar sign-$ at “Voice of America”56. Western characters were wearing their checks in their portfolios and their hats,skill hats and clothing were printed with the same symbol of the dollar, thus


creating the image of Americans as international moneylenders. In consequence,capitalism was set against the wall, devalued, criticized, reduced to cunning com-binations involving counterfeited payments. A brutal image pointed out the opin-ion of the “democratic-people’s” camp about the capitalist finances: the poundsterling and the dollar appeared, not incidentally, in the company of death57.

If peace didn’t stimulate development of cartoons on topics of internationalpolitics, periods of war, hot or cold, were forcing the cartoonists to join the cam-paigns against foreign enemies58. In these circumstances, satirical drawings fallin the long list of propaganda tools. Either misrepresentations or faithful por-traits of reality, the ideological graphic has its significant role in the formationof stereotypes and the arousing of the hostility of the masses. It is not only aninstrument of persuasion, like many others, but has access to emotions, feel-ings and misbelieves of the public opinion. To achieve their purposes, theCommunists have turned to different forms of comic that provide interestingnuances, from grotesque and extravagant to mirth-provoking or solemn gravi-ty. Humour, as a form of comic, has complex social functions and may help imple-ment different opinions in the audience’s minds. It facilitates communicationand corrective experiments, taking advantage of emotional states and of itstherapeutic effects to shape peoples’ beliefs and attitudes59. As in group psy-chotherapy, through the instrumentalisation of the graphic satire, a human cohe-sion and the transfer of feelings, pseudo-values and attitudes from the manipu-lators to those who were manipulated could’ve been achieved. Although it frequentlyused a more entertaining function of comic, political cartoons during the ColdWar also kept falling in excess, obsessively referring to the ideas of truth and moral-ity. Mocking the evil with its own guns, in the declared ambition to exorcise him,the Romanian ideologue trivialized morality and became himself imbued by evil60.

The ideologist-artist transposed into images the daily politics, thus offeringa new way of interpreting the present times. He is a sort of visionary, showingwhat people cannot see, gives advices, suggests solutions and anticipates thefuture61. Even the recurrence of sets of political cartoons over the years provesthe force owned by the one who has the political power. He prescribes the keyof deciphering the actuality. Humorous graphics roused the feeling of a mutualpolitical cause to those undecided or to those who were already convinced.Although we are unable to quantify the effects of visual propaganda, perhaps itreleased themes that led to a certain solidarity of the Easterners. Cartoons could’vecreated myths, set stereotypes and, ultimately, made people feel as a part of theGood. From this position, they were told that they were all an important elementin the global struggle for the eradication of the Western evil. Presenting an oppo-nent as being exclusively evil, this type of propaganda not only stirred up the fearof Westerners but, at the same time, legitimized the aggressive discourse and


the obstructionist actions of Moscow and its allies. By making the massesmore hostile against the enemy, communism was intended to launch a totalwar in which the visual forms of fighting had an important role. They “exposed”the intrigues and the attacks from Washington, thus justifying the state ofemergency and the general mobilization of material and human resources.

Overall, we may assert that the use of Soviet-style political cartoons didn’tfit into a local- ethnic type of humour, as it was theorized by linguists andwriters from the Haºdeu and Draghicescu to Ovid Densusianu and GeorgeCãlinescu62. It was rather an artificial solution imposed by the political context,following exclusively special effects, which were not found in other Romanianhistorical periods. Having in mind the social theories of laughter, we mayaffirm that satirical images of the ‘50s had to produce, exclusively, the laughterof rejection, which developed the individual’s awareness of belonging to a par-ticular group, excluding those who lived by different social rules63. Humour, comicand laughter, like many other human manifestations, have been taken captiveby ideology and, through distortion, they were forced to produce lasting prop-aganda effects.

�

Notes

1. Christina Michelmore, Old pictures in New Frames. Images of Islam and Muslims in PostWorld War II American Political Cartoons, în Journal of American and comparativecultures, January, 1, 2000, p. 37.

2. David R. Spencer, Visions of Violence. A cartoon study of America and War, în AmericanJournalism, 21, Spring 2004, p. 47-48.

3. Ibidem, p. 48.4. Allen McLaurin, America through British eyes. Dominance and subordonation în British

political cartoons of the 1940’, în Journalism Studies, vol. 8, no. 5, 2007, p. 694.5. Ibidem, p. 695.6. Yeshayahu Nir, U.S. Involvement in the Middle East Conflict in Soviet Caricatures, în

Journalism Quarterly, 54, 4, Winter 1977, p. 702.7. Victor Alba, The Mexican Revolution and the Cartoon, în Comparative Studies in Society

and History, IX, January 1967, p. 121.8. Lawrence H. Streicher, On a Theory of Political Caricature, în Comparative Studies

in Society and History, vol. 9, no. 4, 1967, p. 432. 9. Virgiliu Þârãu, Caricaturã ºi politicã externã. România anilor 1950-1951, în România

ºi relaþiile internaþionale în secolul XX, Editura Clusium, Cluj-Napoca, 2000, p.220-221.

10. Andrei Kozovoi, La guerre froide dans la histoires droles sovietiques, http://www.cairn.info/revue-cahiers-du-monde-russe-2007-1-p-137.htm


11. Yeshayahu Nir, art. cit, p. 699.12. Alton Ketchum, The search for Uncle Sam, în History Today, aprilie 1990, p. 26.13. David Ryan, Americanisation and anti-Americanism at the periphery. Nicaragua and

the Sandinistas, în European Journal of American Culture, volume 23, no.2, 2004,p. 111.

14. Paul Hollander, Anti Americanism: Critiques at home and abroad (1965-1990),New York, Oxford University Press, 1992, p. 7.

15. Virgiliu Þîrãu, art. cit., p. 220.16. Ibidem.17. Eberhard Demm, Propaganda and Caricature in the First World War, în Journal of

Contemporary History, vol. 28, no.1, January 1993, p. 166.18. Artele plastice în România dupã 23 august 1944, sub îngrijirea Acad. G. Oprescu,

Editura Academiei R.P.R., Bucureºti, 1954, p. 122.19. Yeshayahu Nir, art. cit., p. 699.20. Abraham A. Moles, La communication et les Mass-Media, Ed. Marabout Universite,

CEPL, Paris, 1973, p. 713.21. Scânteia, 5 ianuarie 1950.22. Scânteia, 14 martie 1950.23. Scânteia, 1martie 1950.24. Sam Keen, Faces of the Enemy: Reflection of the Hostile Imagination, Harper&Row, New

York, 2004, p. 50-60.25. Scânteia, 8 martie, 26 martie, 3 septembrie, 16 septembrie, 6 octombrie 1950.26. Scânteia, 18 martie 1950.27. Scânteia, 21 iulie 1950.28. Scânteia, 15 mai 1950.29. Scânteia, 18 iunie 1950.30. Scânteia, 5 ianuarie, 14 martie, 4 iunie, 21 iunie, 3 iulie, 12 iulie, 3 septembrie, 9

septembrie 1950.31. Scânteia, 10 iunie, 3 iulie 1950.32. Scânteia, 12 februarie, 14 februarie, 4 iunie 1950.33. Ruxandra Cesereanu, Imaginarul violent al românilor, Humanitas, Bucureºti, 2005,

p. 9-11.34. Jennifer K. Hardy, The caricature of the Irish in British and US comic art, în America:

History&Life, 1992, vol. 54, Issue 2.35. Eberhard Demm, art.cit., p. 185.36. Scânteia, 26 martie, 18 mai,18 iunie, 6 octombrie 1950.37. Rune Ottosen, Enemy images and the journalistic process, în „Journal of Peace Research”,

vol. 32, no.1, feb. 1995, p. 98.38. Mark Poindexter, ABC’s The Path to 9/11, Terror-Management Theory and the American

Monomyth, în “Film & History”, July, 1, 2008, p. 57.39. David Ryan, art. cit., p. 112.40. Scânteia, 5 ianuarie, 11 februarie, 25 februarie 1950.41. Scânteia, 6 februarie, 4 iulie 1950.


42. Scânteia, 7 iunie, 21 iunie 1950.43. Allen McLaurin, art. cit., p. 694-699.44. Scânteia, 5 ianuarie, 6 februarie, 11 februarie, 21 iunie 1950.45. Scânteia, 8 martie, 18 iunie, 3 iulie, 3 septembrie, 9 septembrie 1950.46. Scânteia, 12 iulie, 9 septembrie, 16 septembrie 1950.47. Scânteia, 12 iulie, 3 septembrie, 9 septembrie 1950.48. Scânteia, 16 iulie 1950.49. Madi Lussier, Caricaturi de rãzboi, în Observator cultural, nr. 483, 16 iulie 2009.50. David R. Spencer, art. cit., p. 59-60.51. Scânteia, 30 ianuarie, 8 februarie, 12 februarie, 14 februarie 1950.52. Scânteia, 5 ianuarie, 25 februarie, 14 martie, 28 martie, 16 septembrie 1950.53. Lawrence H. Streicher, art. cit., p. 436.54. Scânteia, 6 februarie, 25 februarie, 1 martie, 4 iunie 1950.55. Scânteia, 9 septembrie 1950.56. Scânteia, 4 iunie 1950.57. Scânteia, 8 martie 1950.58. Lawrence H. Streicher, art. cit., p. 429.59. Umorul. Cea mai ieftinã terapie, Editura Eurobit, Timiºoara, 2008, p. 40-43.60. Jean-Mark Defays, Comicul, Institutul European, Iaºi, 2000, p. 13.61. Mark Poindexter, art. cit., p. 61.62. Alexandru Lazãr, Comicul ºi umorul, Editura Panfilius, Iaºi, 2003, p. 47.63. Claudiu T. Arieºan, Hermeneutica umorului simpatetic, Editura Amarcord, Timiºoara,

1999, p. 23.

AbstractShaping the Image

of the Enemy in the Political Cartoons During the Cold War

The historians began to reckon the political cartoons as trustworthy historical sources. They con-tain numerous clues regarding the political struggles of those times, strategies, beliefs, misjudge-ments and, thus, they make a sensitive refining of the second half of the last century. The Romaniancartoons of the ‘50s faithfully copied the Soviet ones, adopting styles and themes very popularin the USSR. They provide information about the representations the communists had about them-selves and the outside world. In this regard, we observe that the official ideology of the East enabledthe construction of new identities through predominantly negative impulses, which made the enemylook and act like a demon and supported the superiority of communism.Even in Romania, the political cartoon became one of the major tools of communist propagan-da, inserted in almost all the newspapers and important magazines. During the ‘50s it copiedthe Soviet themes, efficiently promoting the Romanian Workers’ Party (P.M.R.) doctrine througha coarse messages and simplistic humorous graphics.

KeywordsCold War, Communist Romania, political cartoons, ideologic graphic art, enemy.



1. Caricatures1.1. The pope and the apostolic nonces as spiesof the West1.2. The Voice of America as main instrument ofimperialist propaganda1.3. The Western Allies support Germany’srearmament.1.4. The Western chiefs of states and govern-ments are accused of preparing a nuclear war.

2. Caricatures2.1. The East promotes the image of totalitarianand fascist America where liberty was replaced bythe terror of the Ku-Klux-Klan2.2. The president of the US, Harry Truman, andGeneral Mac Arthur would be promotingAmerica’s interests through financial and militarymeans.2.3. Tito accepts to be ‘tamed’ by the Americansin exchange for financial profits.2.4. The representatives of the West are accusedof aiming to resurrect Nazi Germany.

I I I . 2 . D RA N G N A C H O S T E N A N D S U RV I VA L I N T H E E A S T

1. Von der Ansiedlung und Anfangsgeschichte derSiebenbürger Sachsen bis zur Reformation

D IE ANSIEDLUNG der Siebenbürger Sachsen war Teil der deutschen Ost-kolonisation, als das Erzbistum Magdeburg Zentrum der Neubesiedlungwar, und fand zwischen dem 10. und 14. Jahrhundert statt. In dieser

Zeitspanne wurden große Landstücke in Ost- und Südosteuropa, im balti-schen, polnischen, böhmischen, slowakischen und ungarischen Herrschaftsgebietbesiedelt. Die neuen Siedler, die von verschiedenen deutschen Stämmen abstamm-ten, bildeten in ihrer neuen Heimat eine neue Gemeinschaft mit eigener Mundartund lokalen Eigenheiten.

Aus der Zeit der Ansiedlung wurde jedoch keine Urkunde überliefert, dieAufschluss über die Herkunft dieser Siedlergruppe geben könnte. Die Forscherhaben deshalb versucht, indirekte Beweismittel heranzuziehen, wie z.B. Name,Mundart, Sitten, Bräuche u.ä. Da das Nachforschen der Namen ohne nennens-werte Ergebnisse blieb, wurde die Mundart näher betrachtet, mit dem Ergebnis,dass die siebenbürgisch sächsische Mundart Gemeinsamkeiten mit dem in Lu-xemburg gesprochenen Dialekt hatte. Deshalb bezeichneten die Forscher der„Nösner Germanistenschule“, Gustav Kisch und Richard Huss, Luxemburg, d.h.die moselfränkische Sprachlandschaft, als Urheimat der Sachsen.1 Spätere Sprach-forschungen ergaben jedoch, dass die Abstammung nicht allein auf dieses Gebietbegrenzt werden kann, da gerade in Nordsiebenbürgen, wo sich ein Baierdorfbefindet, ein bayrischer Einfluss bemerkbar ist.2 Heute steht fest, dass sich dieMundarten seit der Einwanderung im 12. Jh. wesentlich geändert haben, währenddas Siebenbürgisch-Sächsische und das Luxemburgische Reliktmundarten sind,die dem Einfluss des Deutschen weniger ausgesetzt waren, und ihre ursprüng-lichen Merkmale beibehalten haben. Dadurch haben sie auch viel Gemeinsames.

Tekendorf – von einer sächsischenGemeinde zu einer Glaubens-

und Nationalitätengemeinschaft

MIHAI DRAGANOVICI

Da aber die damalige gemeinsame Mundart viel verbreiteter war, muss (hauptsäch-lich) das gesamte Gebiet des ehemaligen Kölner Erzbistums, mit dem BistumLüttich (in Flandern), und das Bistum Trier als mögliche Urheimat angesehenwerden.

Der Ursprung der Bezeichnung „Sachsen“ ist auf einen sprachlichen Irrtumzurückzuführen, denn die Bezeichnung steht in keinem Zusammenhang mit denheutigen Sachsen in Deutschland. Im Mittelalter wurden die Siedler in derlateinischen Kanzleisprache der ungarischen Könige allgemein als Saxones bezeich-net3 (auch Hospites Theotonici genannt - lateinisch: deutsche Gäste). Vermutlichwurde der Begriff Sachsen von den ungarischen Chronisten am Hof des unga-rischen Königs zuerst für diese Siedler verwendet.

Um die neuen Siedler von den deutschen Sachsen namentlich zu unterschei-den wurden sie Siebenbürger Sachsen genannt. Die ersten „deutschen Gäste“ wur-den in der Hermannstädter Provinz angesiedelt4. Von den sieben Stühlen derHermannstädter Provinz stammt auch die deutsche Bezeichnung „Siebenbürgen“für Transilvanien, die ursprünglich nur diese Gegend bezeichnete. Der Grund fürihre Ansiedlung war der Schutz der Grenzen vor den Mongolen und Tataren unddie wirtschaftliche Erschließung des Landes. Der ungarische König Geysa II (1141- 1161) war derjenige, der sie nach Siebenbürgen gerufen hat.

Durch den „Goldenen Freibrief“ oder Andreanum im Jahre 1224 erhieltendie „deutschen Gastsiedler“ vom ungarischen König Andreas II. besondere Rechte,die ihnen einen außergewöhnlichen Status verliehen. In dieser ersten Reichs-verleihung ist das weitestgehende Siedlerrecht enthalten, das den westlichenSiedlern in Osteuropa verliehen wurde. Dieser Brief war für die Sachsen für vieleJahrhunderte ihr Grundgesetz auf königlichem Boden.

Außer der freien Nutzung von Gewässern und Wäldern sowie der Zollfreiheitund der freien Märkten für deutsche Händler, erhielten sie auch freie Richter-und Pfarrerwahl, eine eigene Gerichtsbarkeit und andere Privilegien. Ein wei-teres Vorrecht, das ausschlaggebend bei ihrer Ansiedlung war, ist die Tatsache,dass sie weder dem Adel noch der Kirche untertänig, also freie Bürger, waren.Dafür mussten sie dem König Kriegsdienst leisten und einen Jahreszins entrichten.

Die Selbstständigkeit und Selbstverwaltung der Siebenbürger Sachsen wur-den 1486 durch die Gründung der „Sächsischen Nationsuniversität“ gestärkt, dieals oberstes Verwaltungs- und Rechtsgremium galt. Die Unabhängigkeit, vorallem politisch, gewann im 16. Jh. durch den Übertritt der Siebenbürger Sachsenzum lutherischen Glauben an Bedeutung. Die neugegründete Kirche erhieltsogleich ihre Unabhängigkeit.


2. Die Ansiedlung der Siebenbürger Sachsen in Nordsiebenbürgen

N ACH ABSCHLUSS der deutschen Kolonisation im 14. Jh. gab es dreigeschlossene Siedlungegebiete:

• das sogenannte Altland in Südsiebenbürgen• das Burzenland in Ostsiebenbürgen• das Nösnerland und das Reener Ländchen in Nordsiebenbürgen Was die erste Besiedlung des Nösnerlandes und des Reener Ländchens anbe-

langt, wurde keine urkundliche Auskunft überliefert. Es wird aber angenommen,dass sie hauptsächlich im 12. und 13. Jh. erfolgt ist.5 Nach Beendigung derKolonisierung gab es im nordsiebenbürgischen Raum etwa 1000 Familien, dieOrtschaften mit nicht mehr als 10-20 Höfen gründeten. Durch spätere Zuzügeund Bevölkerungswachstum dehnte sich der Siedlungsraum aus und es ent-standen neue Dörfer. Ab dem 12. Jh. wurden auch Bergleute nach Nordsie-benbürgen gerufen, um den Bergbau zu fördern.

Um die Lage der Sachsen in Nordsiebenbürgen besser verstehen zu kön-nen, muss die politisch-administrative Lage dieser Region näher beschriebenwerden. Auf diesem vom ungarischen König eroberten Gebiet gab es zwei Artenvon Verwaltungseinheiten: einerseits den Königsboden, der direkt der Kroneunterstand, und andererseits die Komitate. Die privilegierten Sachsen lebtenauf Königsboden als freie Bauern und Städter. Für sie galt das Siedlerrecht für„Gäste“. Die Sachsen mit den Szeklern und dem Adel gehörten zu den privile-gierten Ständen oder „Nationen“, deren Vertreter den Landtag bildeten. Aufköniglichem Boden befand sich der Nösnergau.

Eine andere Art von Verwaltungseinheit waren die Komitate. Hier handeltees sich um Land, das vom König erobert, aber an verdienstvolle Adelsgeschlechterverschenkt wurde. Auf Komitatsboden bestanden grundherrschaftliche Verhältnissemit Feudalgütern und Hörigendörfern. Sachsen und Szekler bildeten eigeneVerwaltungsverbände. Die Ortschaften im Reener Ländchen befanden sich aufKomitatsboden.

Am Anfang der Kolonisationszeit gab es in Nordsiebenbürgen nur lose Ver-bindungen zwischen den Ortschaften. Es gab keine Gebietskörperschaft, die ihreInteressen vertrat, schützte und verwaltete. Auch der Andreanische Freibriefschloss bis ins 14. Jh. den Nösnergau nicht mit ein und ein anderer Freibrief, derihren Rechtsstatus festlegte, ist ebenfalls nicht bekannt.6 Der Nösnergau war zumTeil auf sich selbst gestellt.


Erst im Laufe der Zeit wurden den Sachsen im Nösnergau offiziell(e) Rechteeingeräumt: 1334 gewährte Königin Elisabeth den Bürgern im bistritzer Raumfreie Gerichtsbarkeit durch einen Freibrief. Ein paar Jahre später, 1366, wurdeein wichtiger Schritt in der Entwicklung der Verfassung und in der Verwaltungdurch den Freibrief Königs Ludwig der Große getan. Dadurch erlangten auchdie Sachsen in Nordsiebenbürgen dieselben Vorrechte wie die in Südsiebenbürgenlebenden Sachsen seit dem Andreanischen Freibrief.

3. Entstehung und Entwicklung der TekendorferGemeinde bis zum 2. Weltkrieg

S CHON DIE ersten Urkunden zeugen davon, dass sich Tekendorf auf Ko-mitatsboden befand. Anfang des 13. Jh. gehörten die Gebiete Reens/Reghinund Tekendorfs/Teaca zu den königlichen Schenkungen. Damals verlo-

ren die deutschen Siedler dieser Gegend jedoch noch nicht ihre Freiheiten.Dies begann erst nach dem großen Tatareneinfall 1241/1242 und endete im15. Jh.

Die erste urkundliche Zitierung von Tekendorf ist im Jahre 1228 festzustel-len.7 In diesem Jahr verleiht König Andreeas II dem Oberschatzmeister Dionysiusdie Besitzung Szeplak/Goreni und Gyeke/Geaca. Die Grenzen dieses Besitztumswerden durch die Beschreibung der Nachbarschaften festgehalten. So wird derwestliche Nachbar, ein „comes Coquinus“, als Besitzer des Gebietes um Tekendorf,Großeidau/Viile Tecii und Ludwigsdorf/Logic beschrieben. Von den ungarischenHändlern wird überliefert, dass im Jahre 1286 Johannes von Kökényes auch„Johannes von Tekendorf“ von seinem Vater diesen Besitz erbt. Die erste schrift-liche Urkunde, die Tekendorf namentlich erwähnt, ist auf das Jahr 1318 datiert,als dem ungarischen König Karl Robert eine Schenkung bekannt gemachtwird, mit deren Durchführung der Pleban8 Eberhard aus Theke/Tekendorf beauf-tragt wurde.9 Bis zum 16. Jh. muss Tekendorf eine wichtigere Rolle im Vergleichzu seiner späteren Entwicklung gespielt haben, sogar wichtiger als Sächsisch-Regen/Reen/Reghin, da die Gemeinde die höchsten Abgaben an die Kurie hatte.Der Pleban von Tekendorf, Vizearchidiakon von Ozd, war 1403 der erste Te-kenedorfer Schulmeister während der Reener Schulmeister erstmals 1460 erwähntwurde. So studierte der erste Tekendorfer 1448 in Wien, während aus Reenerst 1517 jemand an einer deutschen Universität studierte. Zudem wurden bisins 16 Jh. fünf Gewerbe in Tekendorf verzeichnet, während es in Reen nur viergab.10 Die eindrucksvolle evangelisch-lutherische Kirche in Tekendorf zeugtvon der florierenden wirtschaftlichen Lage dieser Zeit. Sie erweiterte eine Basilika


des späten 13. Jh. und weist sowohl romanische als auch gotische aber auchspätere Barocke Züge auf. Heute ist die Tekendorfer evangelische Kirche als histo-risches Denkmal eingestuft. Dank seiner günstigeren Verkehrslage hat Sächsisch-Regen Tekendorf im Laufe der Zeit jedoch überholt.

Was die Bevölkerung anbelangt, gibt es kein statistisches Material. Erst seitdem 18. Jh. stehen erste Volkszählungen zur Verfügung. Man weiß sicher, dassdie Bevölkerung in Nordsiebenbürgen große Schwankungen aufgrund der krie-gerischen Auseinandersetzungen, Hungersnöte und Seuchen erlitten hat. AuchTekendorf war zuweilen stark entvölkert: 1602 wurde Nordsiebenbürgen durchden kaiserlichen General Basta verwüstet und im selben Jahr wütete auch die Pest.Von den etwa 200 Hauswirten (1000 Seelen), die früher in Tekendorf lebten,gibt ein Dokument aus dem Jahre 1610 nur 33 Hauswirte an, das heißt unge-fähr 160 Personen (33 multipliziert mit 5).11 Ein paar Jahre später, 1661, brann-te Ali Pasha Tekendorf nieder und Anfang des 18. Jh. brachten die RákoczischenWirren (1701-1711) wieder Krieg und Pest ins Land.

Was die geistig-religiöse Situation in Tekendorf angeht, gehörten die Tekendorferursprünglich der römisch-katholischen Kirche an. Um das Jahr 1500 gab es inSiebenbürgen zahlreiche Mitglieder des im Dienst der Kranken stehenden päpst-lichen Hospitaliterordens, zu denen auch die Tekendorfer Bevölkerung zählte.

Die Reformation wurde zu einem Meilenstein in der geistigen Geschichte Siebenbürgens im Allgemeinen, und in der Geschichte der Siebenbürger Sachsenim Besonderen. Die Türken, die zu dieser Zeit noch etwas den Ton angaben,mischten sich nicht in Glaubensfragen ein, so dass die Prinzipien der Reformationohne größere Schwierigkeiten durchgesetzt werden konnten. Die ungarischenGrundherren waren ebenfalls Anhänger der neuen Lehre, folglich folglich gab esauch keine Schwierigkeiten hinsichtlich der Glaubensfrage. Unter diesen Umständenwurde 1547 die neue Kirchenordnung des Reformators Johannes Honterusvon der Sächsischen Nationsuniversität für die Deutschen in Siebenbürgen ange-nommen.

Tekendorf nahm nach der Reformation eine Sonderstellung ein. Die Ortschaftlöste sich vom Ozder Archidiakonat ab und bildete das Tekendorfer und Schogener(ªieu) Kapitel12, das seit der Synode von Mediasch 1564 der reformierten Su-perintendentur unterstanden. Deren Bischof vollzog auch die Ordination derdeutschen Pfarrer, obwohl diese Lutheraner waren. Sie unterstanden nur in Glau-bensfragen dem sächsisch-evangelischen Bischof, sonst, kirchenrechtlich dem un-garisch-reformierten Superintendenten. Diese Sonderstellung war möglich, dadie Ungarn am Anfang auch dem Lutherischen Glauben nahe standen; zu Calvinbekannten sie sich erst später. Und auch Luther distanzierte sich später von Calvin.

Veränderungen in der Bevölkerungsstruktur zogen auch eine Änderung derGlaubengemeinschaft nach sich. So waren die Sachsen in Tekendorf bis Anfang


des 18. Jh. unter sich und erst nach den Rákoczischen Wirren kamen die erstenUngarn nach Tekendorf (etwa 17). Im selben Jahrhundert gründeten sie dieReformierte Kirche in Tekendorf und im Jahre 1771 begann die KatholischeKirche die sogenannte Gegenreformation. Die Sachsen mussten sich also dop-pelt wehren, und das nicht unbedingt aus religiösen, sondern vielmehr auswirtschaftlichen Gründen. Sowohl die Reformierten als auch die Katholiken for-derten:

• Plätze für ihre Kirchen,• die kanonische Portion, die Parochialgründe,• ihren Anteil an der geistlichen Zehntquarte.13

Die Sachsen wollten ursprünglich ihre Einwilligung zur Errichtung der unga-risch-reformierten Kirche nicht geben, aber angesichts der geschichtlichen Lageund Entwicklung mussten sie, nicht ohne Widerstand, dem Bau der Kirche zustim-men. Die Ungarn und ihre Kirche mussten aber zusammen an einem Ort sein,auf der Ungarngasse. Die erste ungarisch-reformierte Kirche entstand somitim Jahre 1770.

Seit der Reformation gab es keinen katholischen Bischof in Siebenbürgenmehr. Nach der Beendigung der Rákoczischen Wirren, 1711, begannen dieHabsburger die Gegenreformation. 1716 wird Karlsburg/Alba Iulia wiederzum katholischen Bischofssitz und seitdem begannen auch die Katholisierungs-versuche durch die Jesuiten. 1771 wurde der Jesuitenpater Matthias Schmidtals Missionar nach Tekendorf gesandt. Die ersten Katholiken in Tekendorf warensächsische Konvertiten. Im Jahre 1772 wurde in einem Miethaus die katholi-sche Kirche eingeweiht. Die große katholische Kirche, die auch heute noch steht,wurde zwischen 1876-1880 errichtet.

1750 waren noch keine Rumänen in Tekendorf ansässig, aber sie arbeitetenfür die Sachsen als Hirten, Knechte oder Tagelöhner. Sie konnten von der Gemeindekeinen Grund erwerben und durften nur in Mietshäusern wohnen. Die Rumänengehörten der griechisch-katholischen oder griechisch-unierten Kirche an. Im Jahre1860 wurde ein Glockenstuhl aufgestellt und in einem Mietshaus fanden auchGottesdienste statt. Die heutige orthodoxe Kirche war ursprünglich die Kircheder griechisch-katholischen Gemeinde und wurde auf dem Marktplatz gegenü-ber dem Gemeindeamt zwischen 1927-1932 errichtet. Mitte des 19. Jh. erschie-nen zum ersten Mal Rumänen bei einer Volkszählung.

Ende des 19. Jh. gab es auch eine jüdische Gemeinde in Tekendorf, die ih-ren Gottesdienst in einem Beetshaus abhielten. Sie hatten aber keinen eigenenRabbiner. Nach inoffiziellen Zahlen gab es im Jahre 1880 ungefähr 58 Juden inTekendorf.14

Die Entwicklung der Bevölkerung nach Nationalität und Konfession wirdübersichtlicher, gemäß den Volkszählungen von 1850 und 1941.15


Wie man an den oben angegebenen Daten bemerken kann, hat sich die Zu-sammensetzung der Tekendorfer Bevölkerung stark geändert: während die deutsch-sprachige Bevölkerung fast auf die Hälfte geschrumpft ist, ist die ungarische undrumänische Bevölkerung etwa auf das Fünffache bzw. Dreizehnfache gestie-gen. Ebenfalls bemerkenswert ist die Erscheinung der Griechisch-OrthodoxenReligion, die aber nicht von der Griechisch-Katholischen getrennt gezählt wird.

Fünf Nationen und sieben Konfessionen haben gemeinsam in Frieden inTekendorf gelebt und haben durch ihre Bräuche und Sitten, durch ihre Gewohn-heiten und Kultur zur Entwicklung der Gemeinde beigetragen.

4. Die Fortsetzung des gemeinschaftlichen Lebens bis heute

N ACH ENDE des Zweiten Weltkrieges änderte sich das Gesicht Tekendorfsim großen Maße. Entweder wanderten die Sachsen nach West- bzw.Ostdeutschland oder nach Österreich aus, oder die Verbliebenen wur-

den in die Sowjetunion deportiert. In den fünfziger Jahren setzte eine weitereAuswanderungswelle nach Amerika, vor allem nach Kanada ein, wodurch dieBevölkerung noch stärker schrumpfte.

In der Zeit des Kommunismus hielt die Auswanderung der deutschen Bevöl-kerung aus Tekendorf an. Während 1963 die Tekendorfer Kirchengemeinde noch300 Mitglieder zählte, waren es im Jahre 1979 nur noch 152 (Personen). Am1.1.1984 lebten in Tekendorf noch 139 Sachsen, während (nach der Wende) 1992nur noch 49 Deutsche geblieben gezählt wurden.18

Obwohl nach der Wende im Dezember 1989 auch noch die wenigen Sachsen,die noch in Tekendorf geblieben waren, teilweise ausgewandert sind, haben die


Nach Nationalität Gesamt Sachsen Ungarn Rumänen Zigeuner Juden Andere

1675 1220 239 73 137 - 6 Volksaufnahme 28.Dez.1850

2935 733 1062 946 183 10 1 Ungarische

Volkszählung 1941 Nach Konfession

Gesamt Evang. Reform. R. Kath. Gr. Kath. Mo- saisch

Andere Volksaufnahme 28.Dez.1850

1675 1218 180 211 66 - -

Gesamt Evang. Reform.

R. Kath.

Gr. Kath. +Orth.

Mo- saisch

Andere Ungarische

Volkszählung 1941 2935 762 704 409 973 79 8

16

17

Verbliebenen versucht, das Gemeindeleben weiter zu führen. So zum Beispiel setz-te sich der erste deutsche Bürgermeister seit vielen Jahren, Prof. Eckehardt Zaig,in seiner 14-jährigen Amtszeit für das Wohl der ganzen Gemeinde ein. Durch seinepersönlichen Beziehungen zu Österreich oder Deutschland gelang es ihmInvestitionen nach Tekendorf zu bringen und dadurch ein neues und modernesGemeindekrankenhaus mit Hilfe des Roten Kreuzes aus dem Burgenland zu errich-ten und es anschließend mit Spenden seitens der Evangelischen StadtmissionChemnitz auszustatten. Zudem erhielt die Gemeinde vom Roten Kreuz Burgenlandwährend all dieser Jahre zahlreiche Hilfsgüter, die den Einwohnern durch die grau-en Zeiten der Nachwendezeit halfen. Erwähnenswert ist auch die mit der öster-reichischen Gemeinde Purbach abgeschlossene Partnerschaft, die Tekendorf in sei-ner post-revolutionären Entwicklung auf allen Ebenen begleitete. In dieser Zeitentwickelte sich ebenfalls die Infrastruktur, indem Straßen modernisiert sowieWasser und Gas in die Gemeinde eingeführt wurden. Dank der großzügigenSpenden aber auch der Investitionen des rumänischen Staates wurde aus derehemaligen sächsischen Schule ein gut ausgestattetes Kinderheim, wo Kinderaus ärmlichen Verhältnissen ein richtiges, warmes Zuhause erhalten.

Vor kurzem wurde auch das Lyzeum gründlich saniert und thermisch reha-bilitiert, es wurde mit dem Bau eines neuen Schulensembles begonnen und einaltes Arbeiterheim wurde zu einem komfortablen Heim für Schüler aus ande-ren Gemeinden umgebaut.

Die kleine deutsche Minderheit, die noch im Heimatort geblieben ist, ver-suchte, auch mit Hilfe des Demokratischen Forums der Deutschen in Bistritz,sich zu behaupten, unter anderem durch die Organisation des jährlichen „Wie-senfestes“, eine Veranstaltung, die schon zur Tradition gehört, und Gäste aus ganzRumänien und dem Ausland versammelt. Das Dach des Kirchenturms derevangelischen Kirche wurde dank einer Spende eines nach Kanada ausgewan-derten Reener gänzlich erneuert, so dass jetzt auf weitere Fonds gehofft wird, umdie gesamte Kirche, die zu den Kulturdenkmälern zählt, sanieren zu können.

Während die ethnische Zusammensetzung fast gleich geblieben ist (wenigerdie jüdische Gemeinde, die verschwunden ist), aber mit teilweise großen Un-terschieden, was die Anzahl anbelangt (die Anzahl der Deutschen, die auf 29geschrumpft ist), ist die Gemeinschaft der Konfessionen gewachsen: die Adventistenund Baptisten mit eigenen Kirchenbauten und die Pfingstler mit eigenem Gebet-shaus. Das hat dem geistigen Leben der Gemeinde einen Aufschwung verlie-hen und Tekendorf den Beinahmen „Das Dorf mit sieben Kirchen“ mitgebracht.


Die letzten Daten bezüglich der Zusammensetzung der Tekendorfer Bevölkerungnach Nationalitäten und Konfessionen haben wir vom hiesigen Bürgermeisteramterhalten:

5. Mit der Hoffnung auf bessere Zeiten …

D IE GEMEINDE Tekendorf/Teaca, eine typisch siebenbürgische Ortschaft,wurde von den Sachsen gegründet, erreichte durch diese ihren wirt-schaftlichen und sozialen Höhepunkt um dann, aufgrund der histori-

schen Gegebenheiten, einer entgegengesetzten Entwicklung stand zu halten.Es gelang ihr aber die schweren Zeiten zu überstehen und sich wieder zu erhe-ben um mit Hoffnung in die Zukunft zu blicken. Auch wenn die neu Zugezogenen,seien es die Ungarn, Rumänen, Katholiken oder Reformierten, nicht immermit offenen Armen empfangen wurden, so stellte sich heraus, dass die Gemeindenur zusammen eine Zukunft haben kann. Heute ist Tekendorf als das „Dorfmit sieben Kirchen“ bekannt, und eben das macht den Reiz dieses malerischenOrtes aus. Die Nationalitäten, ethnische oder religiöse, die heute dort leben, tru-gen in der Vergangenheit und tragen weiterhin zum Wohlstand dieser Gemeindebei. Die Gewohnheiten und Eigenheiten jeder einzelnen Gemeinschaft bildenzusammen ein einmaliges Ganzes, ihre jeweilige eigene Geschichte bildet dieGeschichte des Ortes und legt somit die Weichen für eine gute Zukunft. DasBeispiel Tekendorfs beweist: Einheit ist gut, eine Einheit in Vielfalt ist jedochbesser.

�


Kultus Gesamt Rumänisch Ungarisch Deutsch Rroma Gr.Orthodox 1387 1225 4 158 Gr.Katholisch 56 56 - - - Röm.Katholisch 42 - 39 - 3 Reformiert 325 5 320 - - Evang. Lutherisch 27 - - 27 - Adventisten 99 63 33 2 1 Baptisten 16 3 3 - 10 Pfingstler 22 - - - 22 Unitarier 2 - 2 - - Andere Konfessionen 3 - 3 - - Gesamt 1979 1352 404 29 194

Notes

1. vgl. Wagner, 1990, S.24f2. vgl. Kroner, 2009, S.20f3. Gabanyi, a.a.O.4. Von den sieben Stühlen der Hermannstädter Provinz stammt auch die deutsche

Bezeichnung „Siebenbürgen“ für Transsilvanien, die ursprünglich nur diese Gegendbezeichnete.

5. Kroner, 2009, S.17f6. Kroner, 2009, S.247. Schließleder-Fronius, 1989, S.178. Der Pleban oder auch Leutpriester war ein Geistlicher, der eine Stelle mit pfarrlichen

Rechten besetzte. Er war ein Weltgeistlicher und unterstand dem Bischof. Seitdem 13. Jh. wurde die Bezeichnung Pleban im süddeutschen Sprachraum alsHeteronym von Priester verwendet.

9. http://www.bistritza.ro/Localitati-Bistrita-Nasaud/Teaca-Bistrita-Nasaud.html (Zugriffam 26.10.2009)

10. Schließleder-Fronius, 1989, S.12611. ebenda, S.12712. Das Kapitel bezeichnet in der religiösen Annahme eine Körperschaft der Geistlichen,

die zu einer Dom- oder Stiftskirche gehören13. ebenda, S. 21714. ebenda15. nach Schließleder-Fronius, 1989, S.141f16. Die Daten beziehen sich auf die Gemeinde Tekendorf/Teaca mit zwei weiteren benach-

barten Dörfern, Großeidau/Viile Tecii und Pintak/Pintic 17. Es ist nicht klar, ob sich die Daten dieser Volkszählung auf die Ortschaft Tekendorf

oder auf die sämtlich Gemeinde beziehen, aber wir gehen davon aus, dass es umdie ganze Gemeinde geht.

18. Kroner, 2009, S.358

Bibliographie

Gabanyi, Anneli Ute (o.J.) – Geschichte der Deutschen in Rumänien, URL: http://www.sie-benbuerger.de/portal/land-und-leute/siebenbuerger-sachsen/#a1 (Zugriff am15.10.2009)

Gündisch, Karin (2001) – Autonomie ºi stãri de regionalitate în Ardealul medieval, in:„Transilvania ºi saºii ardeleni în istoriografie/Din publicaþiile Asociaþiei de StudiiTransilvane Heidelberg, Ed. Hora, Sibiu

Kroner, Michael (2009)– Geschichte der Nordsiebenbürger Sachsen, Haus der Heimat,Nürnberg


Möckel, Andreas (2001) – Istoriografie ºi conºtiinþã istoricã la saºii transilvãneni, in:„Transilvania ºi saºii ardeleni în istoriografie/Din publicaþiile Asociaþiei de StudiiTransilvane Heidelberg, Ed. Hora, Sibiu

Nägler Thomas (1999)–Die Rumänen und die Siebenbürger Sachsen vom 12. Jh. bis1848, hora Vlg., Hermannstadt und AKSL Heidelberg

Saramandu, Nicolae / Nevaci, Manuela (2009) – Multilingvism ºi limbi minoritare înRomânia, Qual Media, Cluj Napoca

Schließleder-Fronius, Ilse (1989) – Tekendorf in Nordsiebenbürgen. Ortmonographie,Salzburg

Wagner, Ernst (1990) – Geschichte der Siebenbürger Sachsen, Wort und Welt Vlg.,Thaur bei Innsbruck

Rezumat The Village Teaca (Tekendorf) from Saxon Commune

to Confessional and National Community

The Village Teaca (Tekendorf) in the Land of Nãsãud (Þara Nãsãudului/ Nösnerland) was oneof the most important Saxon settlements in north-eastern Transylvania. The village evolved froma strong Saxon community into a multi-national and multi-confessional community, a reflection ofits tumultuous past. The present paper attempts to explore this diversity and its genesis.

KeywordsTeaca (Tekendorf), Land of Nãsãud (Þara Nãsãudului/Nösnerland), Transylvania, TransylvanianSaxonx, multi-confessional and multi-national communities


NEBEN DEN mosaischen und den ungarischen Schulen stellen die deut-schen Schulen im Alten Reich eine der wichtigsten Schulgattungen dar.

Kurz vor dem Ersten Weltkrieg, „lebten im Alten Reich zirka 50.000 Deutscheaus Deutschland, Österreich und Siebenbürgen, davon 30.000 in Bukarest. Inder Hauptstadt war ein großer Teil der Industrie und des Handels in ihrenHänden“1. Es ist keine Gemeinschaft mit einer repräsentativen Zahl, aber sie spielteine bedeutende Rolle im Wirtschafts-, Kultur- und Ausbildungsplan.

Die Autorin hat sich für eine Analyse der deutschen Schulen etschieden, nach-dem sie das Buch von Onisifor Ghibu, Die deutschen Schulen in Rumänien –eine nationale Gefahr gelesen hat, ein Buch, das 1916 von dem Verlag „LibrãriaÞcoalelor” (Buchhandlung der Schulen) veröffentlicht wurde. Mit einem Auftragvom Kultus- und Unterrichtministerium hat Ghibu in April, Mai und Juni1915 eine Studienreise zu den Schulen in Rumänien unternommen. Die Über-schrift hat meine Aufmerksamkeit erregt: da ich aus Siebenbürgen komme, begriffich die Anwesenheit der Deutschen als diskret. Nachdem ich das Buch gelesenhatte, habe ich verstanden, dass es sehr gut war, eine deutsche Schule zu besu-chen, aber der Autor wollte nicht erkennen dass die deutschen Schulen mehrVorteile baten als die rumänischen.

Und wie kann die deutsche Schulphilosophie nicht wichtig sein, wenn sieso viele verschiedene Nationalitäten beeinflusst hat?

Warum hätte uns die Multikulturalität stören sollen? Zum Beispiel war diekatholische Schule aus Sulina, die Onisifor Ghibu am 22. April 1915 besucht hat,eine Schule mit Unterricht auf Italienisch, aber „als Geist ist diese Schule reinösterreichisch-deutsch. Der Schuldirektor war ein gebürtiger Ungar. Die Schülersind Griechen und Slawonier aus Dalmatien. Die Schule wird von der Donau-kommission und von der österreichischen Regierung unterstützt“2.

Ein Thema über die Schulen der verschiedenen ethnischen Gruppen in Ru-mänien ist interessant für jede Epoche, da es bisher wenig Forschungen gibt,die Archive aber sehr viele ungebundene und ungelesene Dossiers haben.

Deutsche Schulen in Rumänienwährend des Ersten Weltkrieges

CARMEN PATRICIA RENETI

Regelungen für die deutschen Schulen

D AS RUMÄNISCHE Unterrichtswesen im ersten Teil des XX. Jahrhundertssteht unter dem Einfluss des großen Pädagogen Spiru Haret. Er mach-te die ersten Schritte für die Regelung der Lage des Staats- und Pri-

vatschulwesens. 1904 schlägt er einen Entwurf für das private Unterrichtswesenvor. Mit strikten Regelungen für die deutschen Schulen, die als Privatschulenzu betrachten waren. Niemand konnte Direktor einer Privatschule werden, ohnein Rumänien mindestens drei Jahre unterrichtet zu haben. Ottokar Schlawe,Präsident der Evangelischen Gemeinschaft, lehnte die Idee strickt ab: „Es istuns bekannt, dass die Rolle des Direktors im deutschen Schulwesen sich vonder Rolle des Direktors in Rumänien unterscheidet. Der rumänische Direktor istnur ein Beamter, aber der deutsche Direktor ist ein Lehrer mit ausgeweitetenBefugnissen, ein Meister der Schüler und der Lehrer“3. Einige rumänische Politiker– germanophile wie Alexandru Marghiloman und Petre Carp oder Antantophilewie Take Ionescu – haben den Entwurf natürlich als verfassungswidrig verwor-fen. Sie begründeten ihr Vorgehen damit, dass ein solches Gesetz das Wirken derdeutschen Schulen in Gefahr bringen würde.

Das bedeutete nicht, dass die deutschen Schulen nach eigenen Regelungenwirken konnten, sondern mindestens die für die rumänischen Schulen gültigenjuristischen Bestimmungen erfüllen mussten. Eine wichtige Bestimmung war diefür ‘die Primar-, Sekundär- und Berufsschulen mit eigenem Kurrikulum’. FolgendeRichtlinien waren wichtig: In den Sekundärschulen mit eigenem Kurrikulum sindzwei Stunden Rumänisch wöchentlich für jede Klasse verbindlich und für dievierte Klasse je zwei Stunden Geographie und Geschichte; die Fächer, die inder Rumänischen Sprache unterrichtet werden, werden mit roter Tinte unter-strichen; der Stundenplan wird im Ministerium in drei Exemplaren eingereichtund jede Stundenplanänderung muss vom Ministerium abgesegnet werden; inden Pausen, gehen die Kinder in den Schulhof und die Klassen werden während-dessen gelüftet. Die Lehrer sollen aufpassen dass die Schüler, während der Pause,rennen und spielen, und sich nicht nur unterhalten oder spazieren gehen“. 4

Die Einstellung eines ausländischen Lehrers wurde durch die Menge anFormulare für die im Ministerium anzulegende Akte sehr erschwert:

– Befähigungszeugnis, das die Qualität des Lehrers in seinem Herkunftslandnachwies;

– Moralitätsschein, der von der örtlichen Behörde ausgestellt wurde undder mehr formell war, da die Behörde nicht persönlich jeden Lehrer ken-nen konnte;

– eine Bescheinigung, dass der Lehrer mindestens zwei Jahre in dem betref-fenden Ort gelebt hatte;


– ein Nachweis seiner Kenntnisse der rumänischen Sprache. Da die Post recht unzuverlässig arbeitete, erreichten diese Unterlagen erst nach

langer Zeit Rumänien. Die Beglaubigung war auch ein schwieriges Verfahren.Die letzten beiden Bedingungen „waren ganz unmöglich beizubringen, wennes sich um eine arme und weit verstreute Gemeinde handelt“5. In Bukarest warenweniger Probleme zu erwarten, da die Mehrheit der Deutschen sesshaft oder ein-gebürgert war.

Sehr oft regelte das Ministerium unklare Lagen durch Ultimaten. So etwaim Fall der Lehrerin Manière Angèle von der Mädchenschule der EvangelischenGemeinde, „die innerhalb eines Monats einen Beweis ihrer Ausbildung vorle-gen musste. Dann wurde das Gesuch mündlich und schriftlich wiederholt. FrauManière fühlte sich beleidigt und hat ihre Entlassung eingereicht“6. Ihre Absichtkann als radikal betrachtet werden, da „Frau Manière von allen Standpunkteneine ausgezeichnete Lehrerin ist und ihr Ersatz in der Mitte des Schuljahrs ernst-hafte Auswirkungen auf den Lehrplan mit sich bringt“7. Deswegen ist das Minis-terium gezwungen, einen Kompromiss zu machen und bewilligt das Wirken vonFrau Manière bis Ende des Schuljahres.

Im Sommer 1914 wurde die Einstellung männlicher Lehrer sehr problematisch.„Absatz 31 des Gesetzes über das elementare und normal-elementare Unterrichtswesensieht voio0oooooor, dass in den staatliche Knabenschulen männliche Lehrer wir-ken; für die ersten zwei Klassen können auch weibliche Lehrer eingesetzt werden“8.Die Schulen sehen sich gezwungen, „provisorisch die männlichen Lehrer durchweibliche für die I.-IV. Klasse der Knabenschulen zu ersetzen“9.

Die Verhältnisse der deutschen Schulen zu den Schulinspektoraten

E IN RUMÄNISCHES Inspektorat ist eine öffentliche Institution, welche dieSchulangelegenheiten regelt. Ein rumänischer Inspektor ist der Beauftragtefür Schulangelegenheiten: Er musste die Lage der Schulen zur Kenntnis

nehmen und sein Bericht an das Ministerium weiterleiten, in der Hoffnung even-tuelle Regelnverstöße zu vermeiden.

Im Dezember 1913 gestattete Erzbischof Netzhammer in einer Begegnungmit dem Unterrichtsminister Dissescu keine Inspektion am Katholischen Seminar,weil „unser Seminar weder Mittelschule noch Privatschule ist, sondern eineKultschule. Das Ministerium hat bezüglich des mohammedanischen Seminars inMedgidia mit den Türken ein Reglement vereinbart. So etwas soll das Ministeriumauch mit uns vereinbaren, dann wird die Inspektion reibungslos erfolgen kön-nen!“10


Wie wir sehen, fehlen noch strikte Regelungen für die Inspektionen. Nur eini-ge Namen der Inspektoren sind uns bekannt. Eine Bestimmung des Unterrichts-ministeriums von 29. Januar 1914 verteilt die Verantwortung der Schulinspektorenfür die privat-elementaren Schulen und für die konfessionellen Asyle auf Bezirkeund Kreise:

– „Schulinspektor S. Spulbereanu ist für den ersten Kreis verantwortlich: KreiseArges, Dolj, Gorj, Mehedinti, Muscel, Olt, Ramnicu Valcea, Romanati,Teleorman

– Schulinspektor G. Costescu ist für den zweiten Kreis verantwortlich: KreiseBraila, Buzau, Constanta, Dambovita, Ialomita, Prahova, Ramnicu-Sarat, Vlasca

– Schulinspektor I. Pralea ist für den dritten Kreis verantwortlich: Kreise Bacau,Covur, Falciu, Putna, Tecuci, Tulcea, Tutova, Vaslui

– Schulinspektor N. Ionescu ist für den vierten Kreis verantwortlich: KreiseBotosani, Dorohoi, Iasi, Neamt, Roman, Suceava

– Schulinspektor G. Simionescu ist für den fünften Kreis verantwortlich:Elementarschulen und Kindergärten in Bukarest

Ella Negruzzi und Ana Manoil sind für die privaten Mädchenschulen in derProvinz beauftragt, die Erste für den Sekundärkurs und die Zweite für denPrimärkurs. Iuga G. ist für die privaten und Staatshandelsschulen und für die pri-vaten Schulen mit den Unterrichtssprachen Ungarisch und Deutsch verant-wortlich“11.

Natürlich werden wir viele Änderungen zu diesen Inspektoren erleben. Abereine unrechte Behandlung der Inspektoren ist nicht anzunehmen, da ein Inspektorauch die Schließung einer Schule empfehlen konnte. Deswegen ist folgenderZwischenfall an einer deutschen Schule in Bukarest überraschend.

Wie der Inspektor Eliodor Constantinescu berichtet, hatte er sich am 6. /19. Oktober 1914 eine Inspektion des Knabeninternats der evangelischen Gemeindein der Straße Lutherana 10 vorgenommen und „[…]wurde von dem Direktor,einem gewissen Herrn Tominski, unanständig empfangen.

Als ich nach dem Direktor fragte, wurde ich zu einem Saal geführt, wo einHerr, der Herr Direktor, am Lehrerpult sitzt und Nachhilfestunden gibt. Eswar gegen 4 ½ Uhr nachmittags.

Hier führen die beiden ein Gespräch auf Rumänisch, wobei der Direktordie Sprache gut beherrscht:

– Was suchst du hier? – Ich suche den Internatsdirektor. Ich bin Schulinspektor und ich bin gekom-

men, um das Internat zu besuchen. – Weißt du nicht, dass du kein Recht hast, in den Saal für die Nachhilfestunden ein-

zutreten? Verlassen Sie die Schule und, wenn Sie mit mir sprechen möchten, dannwarten Sie bis 18.00 Uhr, wenn ich fertig mit dem Privatunterricht bin.“


Weil der Inspektor nicht bis 18.00 Uhr warten kann, gibt ihm Herr Tominskiweitere Erklärungen: ‘Ich bin von Ihrer Inspektion überrascht, denn kein Inspektorhat sich bis jetzt getraut, in den Saal für Nachhilfestunden einzutreten. ‘

Als Inspektor Constantinescu um das Eintragebuch für die Inspektionenbittet, verlangte Herr Tominski seinen Ausweis. Weil Constantinescu keinenInspektor-Ausweis hat, muss er die Schule verlassen, ‘nicht ohne Herzschmerzen’,während Herr Tominski mit dem Rücken am Fenster steht.

Die Schlussfolgerung des Inspektors ist bitter: ‘Wir sind ein freies und unab-hängiges Land, wir nehmen alle (Menschen) bei uns an; wir lassen sie Schuleneröffnen und Kirchen erbauen, sie aber respektieren im Gegenzug keine Gesetzeund Regelungen eines sehr liberalen Landes, wo Ausländer hinkommen, um zuleben und um sich zu bereichern. Obwohl wir als so liberal betrachtet werden,gibt es Anständigkeitsgrenzen, deren Überschreitung wir nicht dulden müssen’.“12

Der Präsident der evangelischen Gemeinde Otto Schlawe bietet wenig plau-sible Erklärungen zu diesem Zwischenfall. „Der Inspektor Constantinescu hatsich nicht zu erkennen gegeben. Die Gouvernante Maria Liebenau, die denInspektor empfangen hat, antwortete, dass der Direktor niemand empfangenkann, da er mit den Nachhilfestunden beschäftigt ist. Der Inspektor hat daraufbeharrt, und die Haushilfe hat den Diener Ioan Dungalã gerufen, um den Direktorvon dem unvorhergesehenen Besuch in Kenntnis zu setzen. Dann hat Con-stantinescu gesagt: ‘Ich bin Inspektor, und ich kann selbst meinen Weg finden’und stieg die Treppen hinauf.

Der Diener hat nicht gehört, was der Inspektor zu sagen hatte, und hat ihndem Direktor vorgestellt ‘als ein Herr der mit Ihnen sprechen will. ‘ Aber derDirektor war mit den Nachhilfestunden beschäftigt und hat gesagt: ‘Leiten sieden Herrn ins Lehrerzimmer’. Als der Direktor erfuhr, dass Herr Constantinescuein Schulinspektor ist, hat er mit den Nachhilfestunden aufgehört. Der Inspektorhat die Erlaubnis des Herrn Tominski und den Bauplan verlangt. Dann hat erum das Eintragebuch für die Inspektionen gebeten. Auf diese Frage wollteHerr Tominski seinen Ausweis sehen: ‘Ich kenne Sie nicht. Ich bitte um IhrenAusweis.’ Der Inspektor ist gegangen und hat vorher nach dem Namen desDirektors gefragt.“13

Der Zwischenfall ist so umgestaltet, dass der Direktor Tominski keine Schuldträgt, und Schlawes Absicht ist lobend. „Meiner Meinung nach – sagt Schlawe– ist die Ursache des Zwischenfalls ein doppeltes Missverständnis:

– ein Missverständnis des Schulinspektors, der glaubte, der Direktor müssewissen, dass er vor sich einen Inspektor hat, während der Zweite glaubte,es stünde der Vater eines Schülers vor ihm,

– ein Missverständnis des Direktors, der sich von den Worten des Inspektorsbeleidigt und brüskiert fühlte. Der nicht gerechtfertigte Eindruck des Direktors


war, dass der Inspektor wenig Sympathie für die Deutschen hat und ver-sucht, sie zu demütigen.

Im Hinblick auf das Gesuch des Direktors um den Ausweis des Inspektorshabe ich ihm erklärt, dass wir einen solchen Ausweis gewöhnlich nicht verlan-gen.“14

Schlawe erlaubt sich, dem Ministerium einen Gedanken einzugeben: „Mit dergroßen Zahl und dem häufigen Wechsel der Inspektoren wäre es zu empfeh-len, dass uns ihre Namen und Befugnisse bekannt gegeben werden, da die Veröf-fentlichungen des Amtsblatts uns nicht immer erreichen.“15

Die Vorteile des Besuches der deutschen Schulen

D IE ENTSCHEIDUNG, eine deutsche Schule zu besuchen, schloss minde-stens drei Erwägungen ein:

– das Profil der deutschen Schulen, die Handels- und Wirtschaftsbereichennahe kamen;

– die Möglichkeit, eine sehr nützliche Sprache, die deutsche Sprache nämlich,zu erlernen;

– das Abschlussdiplom, das sich „europäischer Anerkennung“ erfreute.1898 unterstrich Emil Fischer im Rahmen eines Vortrages in der Liedertafel

die Notwendigkeit unterstrichen, Bürgerschulen und Volksschulen zu grün-den, da gemäß den Statistiken die Deutschen im Wirtschafts- und Handelsbereichtätig waren und die Schulen an dieses Profil angepasst sein sollten.16

Aber diejenigen, die nicht die Chance hatten, eine Hochschule zu besuchen,konnten schon im Elementar- und Sekundärkurs die deutsche Sprache einiger-maßen erlernen.

Die deutsche Sprache war damals wie heute eine nützliche Sprache, um einenArbeitsplatz zu finden. „Jedes Jahr kommen viele Deutsche in unser Land, diedeutsche Waren verkaufen und Produkte unseres reichen Landes einkaufen. AndereDeutsche leben bei uns, haben Gewerbe und Fabriken und geben Arbeitsplätzeund Gewinnmöglichkeiten. Deswegen gehen sehr viele Rumänen nach Deutschland,lernen dort und bringen nützliche Kenntnisse mit in unser Land.“17

Deutsch wird von vielen in Rumänien benutzt. Ein evangelischer Priester stell-te fest: „Hier, im Orient und besonders in Rumänien, hat die deutsche Spracheeine so überwiegende Rolle erreicht, dass man vergisst, dass man nicht aufdeutschem Boden lebt. Die deutsche Sprache hört man in Rumänien auffal-lend oft. Man fühlt sich wie in der Hauptstadt eines deutschen Landes.“18 UndIorga erweitert die Idee um einen ängstlichen Ton: „Bukarest germanisiert sich“19.


Der Besuch einer deutschen Schule zieht große Vorteile nach sich: „Im letz-ten Jahrzehnte sind folgende Berechtigungen erworben worden. Für die Absol-venten der Oberrealschule die vollständige Annerkennung der Reifezeugnisse mitallen daran geknüpften Berechtigungen in Deutschland, Österreich-Ungarnund Rumänien; für die Absolventen der Höheren Handelsschule die Berechtigungzum einjährig-freiwilligen Dienste und die Zulassung zu den Handelshochschulenin den gleichen Ländern. Die Abgangsprüfung der Höheren wird in diesem Jahrezum ersten Male eine Art Annerkennung seitens des preußischen Unterrichtsmi-nisteriums erfahren“. 20

Am Anfang meiner Analyse ist es verlockend, die deutschen Schulen einheitlichzu betrachten, doch schnell wird klar dass die deutschen katholischen Schulensich von den evangelischen Schulen unterscheiden. Der Geheimrat von Welser„glaubt den spezifischen Unterschied darin zu finden, dass die evangelischenSchulen deutschnational seien, während die unsrigen einen österreichischenund konfessionellen Charakter besitzen“21. Der Erzbischof Netzhammer nuan-ciert die Erklärung, dass „[…]die Bukarester evangelischen Schulen in erster Liniesiebenbürgisch-sächsisch sind und dass sie deshalb von der österreichischenRegierung eine jährliche Unterstützung von 16.000 Kronen beziehen. Als Haupt-zweck unserer Schulen machte ich namhaft, die Kinder gut im Deutschen zuunterrichten, um sie durch Erhaltung in Sprache und Nationalität auch demkatholischen Glauben zu erhalten“22.

Das Schulcurriculum. Ablauf der Lektionen. Didaktische Methoden

M EHRERE INSPEKTIONEN sprechen über den Ablauf der UnterrichtsstundenAn der Handelsschule für Knaben der evangelischen Gemeinschaftmacht der Inspektor Floru folgende Beurteilungen: „Ich habe dem

englischen Unterricht des Lehrers Bernhard in der dritten Klasse beigewohnt. Eswurde ein Abschnitt über den französischen-englischen Wettstreit aus demDeutschen ins Englische übersetzt. Die Unterrichtsstunde war mit vielen gram-matikalischen Übungen gefüllt. Mit vielen Ähnlichkeiten zu der deutschen, fran-zösischen und rumänischen Sprache, besonders von den Schülern. Dann habeich in der rumänischen Korrespondenz-Klasse von Frau Buzescu hospitiert.Die Schüler haben auf Fragen geantwortet: Wie macht man ein Gesuch füreine Kontoeröffnung und wie erklärt man den Bankrottzustand. Die Antwortwar gut überlegt.“23

Es existieren auch Fächer, die man als ungewöhnlich betrachten kann, zumBeispiel die militärische Ausbildung in der ersten Klasse, für die der Inspektor


Iuga „die Teilung der Klasse in zwei Serien, jede mit einer Stunde militärischerAusbildung pro Woche“24 empfiehlt.

Die Fächer waren sehr praktisch, so wie wir dem industriellen Kurs derMädchenschule der evangelischen Gemeinde vorschlugen. Die 33 StundenUnterricht umfassen unter anderem die Fächer:

I. Handarbeit: Wäsche flicken, weiße Stickerei, Kreuzstich und französischeStickerei

II. Das Nähen mit der Maschine1. Wäscherei: verschiedene Modelle, Damenwäscherei, Kinderwäscherei,

Männerwäscherei, Bettwäsche, flicken mit der Nähmaschine2. Röcke, Damenkonfektion, Kostüme, Blusen, Kinderkonfektionen, Kinder-

röcke, Knabenkleider, Modernisierung und Reparatur der RöckeIII. Theorie und Zeichnen des Schnittmusters (6 Stunden pro Woche): Maß neh-

men, Zeichnen des Schnittmusters und Vorbereitung des KonfektionierungsstoffsIV. Schmücken der Sommer- und Winterhüte25. Es gibt auch Inspektoren die mit der Qualität der Stunden unzufrieden sind.

Etwa im Fall der Inspektorin Virginie Stan, welche eine ansehnliche Lehranstalt,das englisch-deutsche protestantische Institut kritisiert: „Ich habe im Geschicht-sunterricht in der VI. Klasse hospitiert. Die Schülerinnen waren wenig diszi-pliniert und aufmerksam. Viele haben gar nicht oder kaum auf meine Fragengeantwortet. Einige Schülerinnen verstanden nicht, was sie sagen wollten oderwas ihre Kolleginnen sagten. Einige Schülerinnen wussten nicht, wie sie den vonihnen auswendig gelernten Text übersetzen mussten. Vier Schülerinnen, die kurzvor Weihnachten immatrikuliert wurden, waren sehr schwach vorbereitet undkonnten auf keine Frage antworten. Natürlich habe ich auch sehr gute Schülerinnengefunden, die sehr gut Deutsch beherrschen.“26

Die Qualität der Lehrer

D IE GESELLSCHAFT des 20. Jahrhunderts hatte genaue Erwartungen imHinblick auf die Rolle des Lehrers. Der Direktor der evangelischenHandelsschule, Herr Bernhard, veröffentlicht im Bukarester Gemein-

deblatt eine Serie von Artikeln „Ideale der modernen Schule“, in denen wir wich-tige Ideen über die Lehrer dieses Zeitabschnitts erfassen können – Ideen, die auchheute gelten:

„Aber besonders muss der Lehrer in der Disziplin Freiheit haben. Schlagen,Schimpfnamen und ähnliche Mittel der alten Schulen müssen wir freilich aufdas Allerstrengste verwerfen; übrigens lassen Gesetz und Obrigkeit ohnehinnur ein geringes Maß von Erziehungsgewalt bestehen; wenn dann noch die Eltern


kommen und meinen, das Kindchen werde im groben Tone angesprochen oderähnliches, so weiß man wirklich nicht mehr, sind wir noch in unserem festge-fügten alten Europa, oder schon im gepriesenen Amerika, wo der Lehrer über-haupt machtlos ist – wo aber auch die allgemeine Volksbildung danach ist?

Oft wird gar zu viel erzogen. Kein Schritt ist möglich ohne elterliche Kritik.Macht das Kind eine Bemerkung, gleich ist die Moral hinterher… Nicht mitsolcher Verpäppelung und nicht mit solcher Tyrannei wird es gelingen, den Charakterdes Kindes auch nur in einem einzigen Grundzug zu verändern. Was mit Krallengeboren wurde, lässt sich eben nicht plötzlich in ein sanftes Haustier verwandeln.

Am schlimmsten wird die kindliche Freiheit geknechtet, wenn die Elternihre Nachkommenschaft durchhaus auf den ersten Plätzen der Klasse sehenwollen, sei es aus persönlicher Eitelkeit, sei es im Gefühle der trügerischen Freude,den Sohn schon in der Kindheit an einem führenden Posten zu sehen. Wie vieljugendliche freie Beschäftigung, freie Zeit, freie Entwicklung wird damit gestoh-len! Und dabei ist es nicht verbürgt, dass der Klassenerste auch mal auf seinemPlatze im Leben die erste Geige spielen wird“.27

Im Laufe der Inspektionen können wir echte Beschreibungen der Lehrerfinden, da der Direktor einer Schule oder der Präsident der deutschen Gemeindedie Qualität seines Lehrkörpers auszeichnen wollte.

Zu Direktor Tominski, der sich in den Zwischenfall mit dem InspektorConstantinescu begeben hat, gab Herr Schlawe folgende Bewertung ab: „Seitsechs Jahren ist er im Dienst der Gemeinde, und seit dem 1. September 1909 lei-tet er das Knabeninternat. Herr Tominski ist eine gebildete Person mit feinenUmgangsformen und von einer übertriebenen Höflichkeit. Er stand immer inguten Beziehungen zu den Schulinspektoren. Herr Tominski beherrscht die rumä-nische Sprache genügend, dass er sich ausdrücken kann“28.

Von dem berühmten Lehrer Ioan Slavici hat die zeitgenössische Presse derZeit keinen guten Eindruck. Seine literarische und didaktische Begabung spiel-te keine Rolle gegenüber der Anklage, dass er germanophil sei. Slavici ist gegenRussland, glaubt aber nicht an die Vereinigung Siebenbürgens mit dem AltenReich. „Nach dem Krieg werden die Rumänen die gleichen Rechte erhalten, ineinem ungarischen polyglotten Staat, in dem alle Völker gleich sein werden“29.Die Pro-Entente-Presse jener Zeit erklärte, dass Slavici seine Germanophilie durchdie Tatsache verraten habe, dass die Annährung an die deutsche Gemeindemehrere materielle Vorteile mitgebracht habe. Ironisch stellte die Zeitung Acþiunea(Die Aktion) auf folgende Weise das Porträt von Slavici dar:

„Gestern hatte ich kaum zu essen/ Und zahlte immer mit Verzug/ Heuteesse ich nur Wienerschnitzel / Und trinke gute Weintraube/ Damals hatte ich kei-nen Mantel / Wirklich, hatte nichts zum Anziehen/ Heute trage ich eleganteKleider / Wie die Kellner, bin ich immer im Frack.“30


Betrachtung der deutschen Schulen

D IE VORTEILE eines Besuchs an einer deutschen Schule sind unbezweifel-bar. Einige kräftige Stimmen der Zeit, wie Nicolae Iorga, suchten eineErklärung zu dem Zerbrechen der Fenster der evangelischen Schule: „Man

hat die Fenster der evangelischen Schule zerbrochen und hat übel getan. Wenndie Stundenten es gemacht hatten, dann ist es schlimmer. Jede Schule ist eine Kirche.Aber es kommt in Frage: „Warum haben sich Menschen gefunden, die sich ermu-tigt gefühlt haben, diese Fenster zu zerbrechen? Weil die deutschen Schulen zuBukarest eine Festung sind, eine exklusive und fanatische Festung, in der die LehrerBefehlshaber und Instrukteure sind. In den letzten zwanzig Jahren habe ich sie ent-stehen sehen. Und es hat mir Leid getan, weil die rumänischen Kinder das natio-nale Ausbildungssystem verlassen haben. Aber es tat mir auch Leid für etwas ande-res: Für die Sympathie und Bewunderung, welche die deutsche Kultur nicht denheutigen Generälen verdankt, sondern der deutschen Zivilisation meiner ehema-ligen Professoren, der Zivilisation, deren kräftiger und schöner Sprache, in derich Werke geschrieben habe auf die ich sehr stolz bin“31.

Aber der Arzt Sion versüßt den Ton: „Ich gebe meinem Kind Erziehung inder Schule, wo die Fester zerbrochen wurden. Ich beobachte persönlich seinemoralische und intellektuelle Entwicklung. Es ist mir bekannt und ich kann Ihnenversichern, dass die Anklage einer exklusiven und fanatischen Festung unbegründetist. In jedem Fall ist diese Festung nicht gegen die moralischen, kulturellenund nationalen Ziele dieses Landes gerichtet. Eine Festung, die methodischeArbeit und Gewohnheiten von seelischer, geistlicher und körperlicher Reinheitverkörpert, ja, das ist sie! Glauben Sie, dass ich nicht bemerkt hätte, wenn et-was an der Erziehung meines Kindes nicht in Ordnung wäre? Nein, lieberHerr Iorga. Dieses Geschäft mit dem Zerbrechen der Fenster an Schulen oderirgendwo anders ist eine üble und demütigende Tat. Und wenn die Studenten soetwas gemacht haben, dann ist unsere Zukunft kompromittiert“32.

Schuluniform

D ER PRÄSIDENT der Ephorie der evangelischen Gemeinde, Ottokar Schlawe,verdeutlicht dem Ministerium, dass „alle Schüler unserer Anstaltengezwungen sind, Hauben nach folgenden Modellen zu tragen:

– schwarze Hauben für die Schüler der Elementarschule – grüne und rote Hauben für die Schüler der Oberrealschule– blaue Hauben für die Schüler der Handelsschule.


Auf diese Weise sind unsere Schüler einfacher zu erkennen. Auf der anderenSeite bestrafen wir die Schüler, die ohne Haube zu Schule kommen oder sie nichtin der Stadt tragen“33.

Die Inspektorin Ana Manoil ermahnt die Direktion des Kindergartens undder Elementarschule, dass die Mädchen „eine passende Schürze34“ tragen müs-sen.

Gesundheitszustand der Schüler. Die Hygiene.

D AS SCHARLACHFIEBER, der Typhus, die Cholera oder die Diphtherie sindgewöhnliche Krankheiten der Epoche. Und die Hygiene ist nicht immerder Schwerpunkt für die Schulen.

Im Februar 1914 stellt der Arzt Pãtraºcu an der Knabenschule der evangeli-schen Gemeinde fest: „Hier gibt es eigine Fälle von Scharlachfieber, wie TheodorLichtendorff, von der vierten Realklasse, und andere Fälle von Masern, die betref-fenden Klassen wurden desinfiziert. Andere Fälle gibt es nicht mehr. Die Direktionzeigt jede Krankheit an, die mehr als drei Tage dauert, so dass wir zeitnah jedeansteckende Krankheit entdecken können. Das Schulgebäude ist in gutem Zustandund die Schüler sind sauber35“.

Im April 1914 erreicht das Scharlachfieber das Englisch-Deutsche ProtestantischeInstitut, wo derselbe Arzt Patrascu feststellt: „Margareta Meier von der sech-sten Klasse ist von Scharlachfieber befallen. Ihre Schwester kommt nicht mehrin die Schule, und die Direktion wird sie nur mit der Genehmigung durch eineärztliche Bescheinigung wieder empfangen36“. Aber das Institut findet einegute Erklärung dafür: „Die Schülerin Meier ist Externe und hat sich während derOsterferien angesteckt“37.

Im Oktober 1914 treten am Englisch-Deutschen Protestantischen Institut wie-der Fälle von Scharlachfieber auf: „Die Schülerin Charlotte Hersekovitsch (Externe)von der vierten Klasse ist von Scharlachfieber befallen. Die Schülerinnen der-selben Klasse wurden untersucht, es wurde jedoch nichts Beunruhigendes ent-deckt. Die betreffende Klasse wird dezinfiziert. Die Schülerin Lidia Gutmankommt nicht mehr in der Schule, da ihre Schwester von Scharlachfieber befal-len ist“38.

Weil der Gesundheitszustand der Schüler wichtig ist, versuchen die Inspektoren,die Hygiene in den Schulen unter strenge Beobachtung zu setzen.

Anlässlich des Besuchs der Mädchenschule der evangelischen Gemeinde Anfangdes Schuljahres 1915/1916, war die Inspektorin Negruzzi ganz zufrieden: „Ichhabe die Schule besucht und die Reparaturen überprüft. Ich habe festgestellt, dass


die Wände der Klassen, der Schlafzimmer und der Korridore frisch gestrichenwurden. Überall ist es sehr sauber“39.

Die strenge Inspektorin Virginie Stan ist unzufrieden mit den Hygienebedin-gungen des Protestantischen Instituts: „Ich bemerke den Komfort und die Hygiene,außer der Waschschüssel für die kleine Toilette (für das Füßewaschen). In eini-gen Zimmern und Schlafzimmern habe ich die Luft stickig gefunden: Die Fensterwurden sofort geöffnet. Ich habe darum gebeten, dass die Fenster auch zwischenden Unterrichtsstunden geöffnet werden, besonders in den Klassen, wo zweiStunden für dasselbe Fach stattfinden (zum Beispiel Französisch in der achtenKlasse). Die Wäsche des Personals und der Schülerinnen sind sauber, die Lappensind gewaschen. Ich habe ein Heft gefunden, wo das Baden, die Kirchenbesucheund die Spaziergänge der Schülerinnen verzeichnet war40“.

Die Qualität des Essens

D IE INSPEKTORIN Virginie Stan erzählt: „Ich habe die Suppe gekostet, siewar fettarm (mager) und salzig, und der Braten mit Kartoffeln war sehrlecker und von guter Qualität“41. An der Mädchenschule ist „das Essen

gut und genügend“ 42, versichert uns die Inspektorin Ella Negruzzi. Eine Besch-reibung des Menus bekommen wir für das Protestantische Institut von EllaNegruzzi: „Linsesuppe, Kartoffeln mit Wurst und Reiskuchen mit Brot“43

oder von Virginie Stan: „es war noch Reiskuchen und Rübensalat mit wenigZwiebel.44

Die Periode des „kurzen Krieges“ (August-November 1916)

M IT DEM Kriegseintritt Rumäniens gegen Deutschland und seine Ver-bündenten hat die deutsche Gemeinde am meisten zu leiden. Nochnicht einmal der einflussreiche Erzbischof Netzhammer hatte eine

Ahnung von dem Kriegseintrittsplan Rumäniens. Für ihn ist der 27. August 1916“ein schrecklicher Tag von Aufregungen! Vormittags kommt in aller Eile die FrauOberin Candida und meldet, daß ihr Herr Marghiloman einen Herrn mit derNachricht geschickt habe, sie solle jetzt Maßregeln treffen, um nicht ganz vomKriege überrascht zu werden. Wir sind ratlos, was man zu tun hat, da man mitallem an das Land Rumänien gebunden ist“.45

Die evangelische Gemeinde ist stark betroffen: „Das Gemeindejahr 1916-1917wird in der Geschichte der Gemeinde fortleben wie die Jahre 1788-1790, Jahre


des Krieges und des Elends […]. Der in Bukarest anwesende Pfarrer wurdevom Altar weg ins Gefängnis geführt, Lehrer, Beamte und Mitglieder ins Gefan-genlager verschleppt und die Gemeinde wurde […] zur Erwerbsgenossenschafterklärt. Ein von der rumänischen Regierung eingesetzter Sequester wurde mitder Verwaltung der Gemeinde und ihres Vermögens beauftragt. Predigt undUnterricht hörten gezwungenermaßen auf“46.

Als der Krieg anfing, „wurden alle Hoffnungen der Gemeinde, die Schulen ingewohnter Weise am 1. September eröffnen zu können, vernichtet […]. DerPräsident Professor Schlawe, der Direktor der Schulanstalten Dr. Tzschaschel,der Pfarrer Lic. Bennewitz und die meisten Lehrer und Lehrerinnen befandensich in Deutschland. Pfarrer Honigberger wurde am Sonntagabend (14./27.August) mitten in einer Trauung in der Kirche durch zwei rumänische Polizeibeamteweggeführt und mit vielen anderen Deutschen zusammen im Fort Domnestibei Bukarest interniert. Das gleiche Schicksal traf […] die Oberlehrer Modesohnund Slavici […] die Elementarlehrer Höchsmann, Binder, Roth, Bloos, Heidelberg,Gasser, Wackernell […]. Auch Oberlehrer Dr. Richter, der die Ferien auf demGut seiner Schwiegereltern bei Jassy zubrachte, wurde verhaftet […]. Der Direktorder Höheren Handelsschule, Dr. Bernhard wurde, da der amerikanische Gesandteden Schutz des deutschen Eigentums amtlich übernahm, durch den deutschenGesandten der amerikanischen Gesandtschaft zugeteilt und leitete die Maßnahmenin allen Unterstützungsangelegenheiten und Interessenvertretungen für dieDeutschen. Er konnte vornehmlich den internierten Gemeindemitgliedern man-cherlei Erleichterung verschaffen[…]. Die Zahl der Gemeindemitglieder sankinfolge der Internierung wesentlich: Etwa 70% der Stimmberechtigten sind durchdie rumänische Behörde in die Internierungslager überführt worden“47.

Die katholischen Schulen treten auch unter Sequester und ab 16. September1916 werden sie von dem Abgeordneten Stefan Ioan, Professor der lateini-schen und französischen Sprache am Lyzeum Matei Basarab, verwaltet. DerGrund: „Die erzbischöflichen Schulen sind ‚deutsch-katholische’ Schulen, undals solche müssen sie gesetzlich unter Sequester gestellt werden48“ Der ErzbischofNetzhammer protestiert streng: „Meine Schulen sind bis zum heutigen Tage vonuns und auch vom Unterrichtsministerium nie anders bezeichnet worden als erz-bischöfliche Knabenschulen […]. Die Schulen haben gar kein fremdes Kapitalund werden nur durch die Schulgelder unterhalten. Richtig ist, dass Österreichseit mehr als fünfzig Jahren diese Schulen subventioniert, das heißt uns durcheine Jahressubvention einen Teil der Schulgelder für ihre armen Untertanenkinderbegleicht, welche sonst ohne Unterricht blieben. Seit drei Jahren tut Deutschlanddasselbe. Die Summen wurden stets bedingungslos gegeben, das heißt, es wur-den keine Gegenforderungen etwa nationaler Art gestellt. Österreich hat überunsere Schulen nie ein Aufsichtsrecht verlangt noch ausgeübt; man feierte nieösterreichische Nationalfeste in unseren Schulen und nie wurden österreichi-


sche Fahnen an ihnen ausgehängt. Wir haben auch nie durch eine fremde Ge-sandtschaft beim Unterrichtsministerium zugunsten der erzbischöflichenKnabenschulen intervenieren lassen“49.

Auf die Anklage, dass der Prälat Kuczka jahrelang Propaganda für die unga-rischen Schulen gemacht hat, antwortet der Erzbischof Netzhammer: „Ganzgewiss war Kuczka sehr tätig, und zwar in allen Stellungen, die er je bekleidethat. Generalvikar war er nur einige Jahre unter meinem Vorgänger, niemalsaber unter mir. Das viele Geld verwaltete er für den Ladislausverein, der ihmmit vollstem Recht unbedingtes Vertrauen schenkte; er war der Verwalter derungarischen Schulen, welche gerade Ihre Liberale Partei nicht in den Händen desErzbischofs von Bukarest ließ, sondern sie lieber in jenen des kulturellen unga-rischen Vereins von Budapest sehen wollte. Gewiss machte Kuczka viel Propaganda,um nämlich möglichst alle katholischen ungarischen Kinder in die katholi-schen ungarischen Schulen hereinzubringen, wo sie wenigstens einen gutenReligionsunterricht genossen“50. E ist kein Wunder, dass die ungarischen Schulennur von ungarischen Kinder besucht wurden: „War es nicht das rumänischeUnterrichtsministerium, welches verordnete, dass nur ungarische Kinder mit rich-tig ungarischem Pass diese Schulen besuchen dürfen?“51, erinnert ErzbischofNetzhammer.

Der Erzbischof Netzhammer betrachtet die katholischen Schulen auf eine unddieselbe Art und Weise: für ihn ist es wichtig der Eid zu Rome, der ihn alstreuer Verwalter aller Katholiken einsetzt.

Das Besatzungsregime

M IT DEM Einzug der verbündeten Truppen in Bukarest unter dem Kom-mando des Generalfeldmarschalls von Mackensen beginnen die regel-mäßigen Gemeindegottesdienste. „Besonders wichtig musste es jetzt

erscheinen, die evangelischen Schulen baldigst zu eröffnen. Sie hatten durchInternierung eine Reihe bewährter Lehrer und Angestellter verloren und warendurch Requisitionen und Diebstähle stark geschädigt worden […]. Der 16. April1917 wurde als Eröffnungstag in Ansicht genommen.

Ferner sind an der Oberrealschule und Höheren Handelsschule noch tätig:Die Oberlehrer Dr. Südhof, Nothumb, Realschullehrer Gasser, der ebenfallsaus der Internierung befreit ist, Turnlehrer Richter, Zeichenlehrer Schmidt, derLehrer für Rumänisch Drãgoiescu, an der Elementarschule noch Lehrer Geltsch,früher Rektor der deutschen Schulen in Azuga.

Für die Mädchenschule, deren Leitung Fräulein Schrenk übernahm, traten fol-gende Damen wieder in den Dienst der Gemeinde: Frau Bantaº, Frau Georgescu,


Frl. Gaspar, Frl. Wegener; neu hinzu kamen Frau Göttsche, Frl. Eyff, Frl. Irkowskx,Frl, Fritz, Frl. Wolff“52.

Für Mai 1917 können wir folgende Statistik53 präsentieren:

Die katholischen Schulen eröffnen auch. Der Regierungsrat Kun wundert sich,dass „wir in unserem Schulunterstützungsgesuch außerordentlich bescheidenwaren und nur eine Kleinigkeit vom Reiche verlangen. Ich (Erzbischof Netz-hammer) sagte ihm gerade heraus, dass wir nicht mehr als diese ‘Kleinigkeit’ wün-schen und dass wir eher vorziehen würden, auf jede Unterstützung vom Reichezu verzichten, als unsere bisherige Freiheit einzubüßen. Der Herr Regierungsratmusste auch hören und wissen, dass unsere sogenannten deutschen Schulen inRumänien in erster Linie katholische Schulen sein müssen, und dass wir uns trotzDeutschtum das Internationale der katholischen Kirche sichern wollen“54.

Erzbischof Netzhammer wird zu einem engen Freund des FeldmarschallsMackensen: „Wir begegnen uns in der Neigung für Geschichte, Länder- undVölkerkunde und das Kartenwesen. Die Verschiedenheit der Bekenntnisse stör-te uns nicht. Der Verkehr mit dem klugen und wissenden Mann war mir sehrwillkommen. Er hatte durch seine Reisen in Rumänien Land und Leute ken-nengelernt. Über den Parteien stehend, hatte er ein unbefangenes Urteil überRumäniens öffentliche Persönlichkeiten und Zustände, das für mich umsowertvoller war, als er sich nicht aufdringlich äußerte“55.

Diese Freundschaft bleibt auch nach dem Krieg, als Mackensen gesteht:„Ich stehe mit ihm (mit dem Erzbischof Netzhammer) noch in brieflichem Verkehrund habe ihn sogar jüngst besucht und mit ihm ein frohes Wiedersehen gefei-ert. Bald nach dem Weltkriege musste der wertvolle treue deutsche Mann undlangjährige Freund des verstorbenen Königs Karol seine Bukarester Stelle fran-zösischen Einflüssen räumen. Nach längerem Aufenthalt in Rom nahm er seinenRuhesitz auf dem zum Kloster Einsiedeln gehörigen Inselchen Werd im Bodenseebei Eschenz gegenüber Stein. Dort lebt er für seine wissenschaftlichen Neigungenund die Erfüllung vielseitiger geistlicher Aufgaben. Inmitten derselben über-raschte ich ihn am 14.06. und fand ein herzliches Willkommen in alter Freundschaft.Auch meine Begleitung hatte Freude am Besuch“56.

Mackensen beschreibt auch seine ersten Eindrücke von Rumänien, Bukarestund seiner Bevölkerung: „Die Stadt würde nicht an den Krieg erinnern, wennes nicht meine Soldaten aus vier Ländern bewiesen […]. Charakteristisch für


Schulanstalt Nummer der Schüler Oberrealschule 473 Höhere Handelsschule 90 Knabenelementarschule 416 Mädchenschule 347 Kleinkinderschule 76

Bukarest sind auch die vielen, meist sehr kleinen Kirchen. Ihre Zahl steht imumgekehrten Verhältnis zur Religiosität der leichtfertigen Bewohner. Ein wirk-lich monumentaler Kirchenbau fehlt der Stadt, ebenso wie jede alte Architektur.Alles ist hier modern und daher nicht besonders anziehend. Die Bukarestersind eine leichtfertige, oberflächliche Gesellschaft“ 57.

Und einige Zeit später zeichnet Mackensen auf: „Rumänien ist das Landder Kontraste: Hütten und Paläste wechseln in den Städten. Üppigster Reichtumund niedrigste Armut wohnen nebeneinander. Raffinierte Eleganz und unglaub-liche Zerlumptheit gehen nebeneinander her: Mit allen Toilettenkünsten geschmink-te und frisierte Damen und Herren und seit Wochen nicht mit Waschwasserin Berührung gekommene Zigeuner“. 58

Im Laufe der Jahre 1917 und 1918 wird Bukarest zu einer echten deut-schen Stadt, wo die deutsche Kultur intensiv gefördert wird. Am 3. Juni 1917eröffnete die Militärverwaltung im Athenäum eine Ausstellung deutscher Kunst-werke. „War es doch von vornherein ausgeschlossen, an den umständlichenTransport von Gemälden aus Deutschland zu denken. Das Einzige, was ohnewesentliche Schwierigkeiten bezogen werden kann, waren graphische Blätter.Und so entschloss man sich zu einer Ausstellung deutscher Kriegsgraphik […]und fügte ihr eine Übersicht der besten deutschen Gemälde an, die sich in demreichen öffentlichen und privaten Kunstbesitz Bukarests gefunden hatten“59.

Die Zeitschrift Rumänien in Wort und Bild beschreibt mit vielen Einzelheitendie graphische Abteilung, die Gemäldeausstellung und die Abteilung der neuenMeister. „Die graphische Abteilung enthält etwa 150 der besten Blätter […]. Wirnennen nur die eindrucksvollen Radierungen von Erich Gruner und die phan-tasiereichen Cyklen von Erich Erler und Alexander Schneider, die prächtigenBlätter des jüngst verstorbenen Otto Greiner und Max Klingers, die prächti-gen Satiren Olaf Leonhard Gulbransson und die von liebenswürdigstem Humorerfüllten Blätter von Karl Arnold, dem Zeichner der Liller Kriegszeitung“60.

Die Nachrichten der deutschen Literatur über Rumänien berichten sehrseltsam über die Lage der Deutschen in Rumänien. Nur über die deutsche Be-satzung haben wir Berichte. Das Leben der Gemeinde entwickelt sich weiterin einer Atmosphäre der Diskretion. Der Besuch Kaiser Wilhelm II. ist auchdiskret. Wir hätten erwartet, dass er sich für die Lage der Deutschen interes-siert, obwohl die Beziehungen zum König abgebrochen waren. Aber er wollte„die Schlachtfelder in Siebenbürgen und Rumänien aufsuchen. Sein Besuch woll-te jedem Einzelnen, der hier gefochten hat, ein Zeichen des Dankes sein, dasder Oberste Kriegsherr des deutschen Heeres ihm gab. Zugleich wollte der Kaiserdie deutschen Truppen, die heute in Rumänien und in der Bukowina stehen,in ihren Stellungen besuchen und durch eigene Anschauung kennenlernen, wasfleißige Köpfe und Hände bisher geleistet haben, um die reichen Hilfsquellen des


besetzten Landes zur wirtschaftlichen Stärkung und Entlastung der Heimatheranzuziehen“61.

Die Zeitspanne des Krieges zeichnet sich durch ein massives Interesse derBesatzungsmacht am Reichtum des Landes aus. Aber die deutsche Gemeindespielt keine hauptsächliche Rolle in diesem Prozess. Sie lebt weiter nach denRegeln der Diskretion und der Äquidistanz.

�

Notes

1. Hans Petri, Deutsch-evangelisch im Königreich Rumänien. Reiseeindrücke von ProfessorD. Rendtorff in Lepizig, in Kalender für Gustav Adolf Vereine, Verlag von A. Strauch,Leipzig, 1912, S. 3-4

2. Onisifor Ghibu, ªcoalele germane din România – o primejdie naþionalã, Editura „Librãriaªcoalelor” C. Sfetea, Bucureºti, 1916, S. 86

3. Onisifor Ghibu, ªcoalele germane din România – o primejdie naþionalã, Editura „Librãriaªcoalelor” C. Sfetea, Bucureºti, 1916, S. 122-123

4. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1915. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, Blätter 50-51

5. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 2741/ 1915. Elementarschule in der deut-schen Sprache für Ausländer Atmagea, Blatt 2

6. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1874/ 1914. Deutsche Mädchenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 20. März 1914, Blatt 49

7. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1874/ 1914. Deutsche Mädchenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 20. März 1914, Blatt 49

8. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 6/19. August 1914, Blatt 96

9. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 6/19. August 1914, Blatt 96

10. Raymund Netzhammer, Bischof in Rumänien: im Spannungsfeld zwischen Staat undVatican, Band I, Verlag Südostdeutsches Kulturwerk, 1995, S. 633-634, Montag, 22Dezember 1913

11. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1589/ 1914. Entscheidungen, 29. Januar1914, Blatt 1

12. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 6/19. Oktober 1914, Blätter 104-105

13. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 16. October 1914, Blatt 110

14. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, Blatt 112, umseitig

15. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, Blatt 113


16. Dr. Emil Fischer, „Die größte deutsche Auslandschule in Bukarest”, in KronstädterZeitung, 76. Jahgang, No. 100, den 1. Mai 1912, S. 1 (ins Archiv der evangeli-schen Pfarrei zu Bukarest, Best. Sigatur 977, Im Katalog: Seite 160, lfd. Nr. 1185,ohne nummerierte Seiten)



19. Dr. Marcel Bibiri-Sturia, Germani în România, eri - azi –mâine • comerþ, industrie,finanþa, colonia germanã, regele, propaganda corupþia, spionajul, Stabiliment de ArteGrafice „Energiea”, Bucureºti, 1916, S. 135

20. Bukarester Gemeindeblatt, X. Jahrgang, No. 21, Sonntag, 25./ 7. Juni 1914. EinRückblick auf zehnjährige Arbeit, S. 89-91

21. Raymund Netzhammer, Bischof in Rumänien: im Spannungsfeld zwischen Staat undVatican, Erster Band, Verlag Südostdeutsches Kulturwerk, 1995, Montag, 7. Mai1917, S. 973-974

22. Raymund Netzhammer, Bischof in Rumänien: im Spannungsfeld zwischen Staat undVatican, Erster Band, Verlag Südostdeutsches Kulturwerk, 1995, Montag, 7. Mai1917, S. 973-974,

23. D.A.N.I.C., Arhivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1835/ 1914. Deutsche Handelsknabenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 8. Februar 1914, Blatt 11

24. D.A.N.I.C., Archifsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 31. Januar 1914, Blatt 17

25. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1835/ 1914. Deutsche Handelsknabenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 27. Februar 1914, Blatt 12

26. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 25. Februar 1914, Blatt 27

27. Bukarester Gemeindeblatt, No. 3, X. Jahrgang, 19./1. Februar 1914. „Ideale der moder-nen Schule“, S. 9-11

28. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, Blätter 110-111

29. Lucian Boia, Germanofilii. Elita intelectualã româneascã în anii Primului Rãzboi Mondial,Editura Humanitas, Bucureºti, 2009, S. 308

30. Acþiunea, Jahrgang XIII., Nr. 3397, Samstag, 11. Oktober 1914. „Eu sunt Slavici”,S. 1. Der original Text lautet: „Eri mâncam rãbdãri prãjite / ªi plãteam la Moº Aºteap-tã / Azi îi trag cu Wienerschitzel / ªi cu razachie coaptã. Altãdatã n-aveam hainã /Zãu cã n-aveam ce sã-mbrac / Astãzi, elegant, eu umblu / Tot cu chenerii, în frac.

31. Neamul Românesc, Jahrgang X, No. 38, Montag, 20. September 1915, S. 232. Neamul Românesc, Jahrgang X, No. 38, Montag, 20. September 1915, S. 233. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule der

evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 6. März 1914, Blatt 47 34. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1874/ 1914. Deutsche Mädchenschule

der evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 15. September 1914, Blatt 85, und 15.Oktober 1914, Blatt 88 und 22. Dezember 1913, S. 480


35. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1834/ 1914. Deutsche Knabenschule derevangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 21. Februar 1914, Blatt 45 umseitig

36. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 14. April 1914, Blatt 37

37. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 14. April 1914, Blatt 37

38. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 13. Oktober 1914, Blatt 83

39. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1874/ 1914. Deutsche Mädchenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 26. August 1914, Blatt 83

40. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 25. Februar 1914, Blatt 26

41. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1874/ 1914. Deutsche Mädchenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, Blatt 37, umsteig

42. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1874/ 1914. Deutsche Mädchenschuleder evangelischen Gemeinde zu Bukarest, 16. September 1914, Blatt 84

43. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877/ 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 17. Januar 1914, Blatt 4

44. D.A.N.I.C., Archivsfond M.C.I.P., Mappe 1877 / 1914. Englisch-Deutsch Protes-tantisches Institut zu Bukarest, 25. Februar 1914, Blatt 26

45. Raymund Netzhammer, Bischof in Rumänien: im Spannungsfeld zwischen Staat undVatican, Erster Band, Verlag Südostdeutsches Kulturwerk, 1995, Sonntag, 27. August1916, S. 843

46. Archiv der Evangelischen Kirchengemeinde A.B., Bericht und Jahresversammlung überdie evangelische Kirsche und Schule in Bukarest an die Gemeinde-Versammlung vomSonntag, den 20. Mai 1917, Best. Nr. 663, S. 6-18


48. Raymund Netzhammer, Bischof in Rumänien: im Spannungsfeld zwischen Staat undVatican, Erster Band, Verlag Südostdeutsches Kulturwerk, 1995, Freitag, 29. September1916, S. 872-877

49. Raymund Netzhammer, Bischof in Rumänien: im Spannungsfeld zwischen Staat undVatican, Erster Band, Verlag Südostdeutsches Kulturwerk, 1995, Freitag, 29 September1916, S. 872-977







55. Wolfgang Foerster, Mackensen. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen des Generalfeldmarschallsaus Krieg und Frieden, Bibliographisches Institut, Leipzig, 1938, S. 332



58. Wolfgang Foerster, Mackensen. Briefe und Aufzeichnungen des Generalfeldmarschallsaus Krieg und Frieden, Bibliographisches Institut, Leipzig, 1938, S. 323-324

59. Rumänien in Wort und Bild, Jahrgang 1917, Bukarest, 9. Juni 1917. „Die Ausstellungdeutscher Kunstwerke in Bukarest“, Heft 5, S. 13-15

60. Rumänien in Wort und Bild, Jahrgang 1917, Bukarest, 9. Juni 1917. „Die Ausstellungdeutscher Kunstwerke in Bukarest“, Heft 5, S. 13-15

61. BukaresterTagblatt, XXXVIII. Jahrgang, No. 265, Dienstag, 25. September 1917.„Kaiser Wilhelms Frontbesuch in Rumänien“, S. 1

Abkürzungen

D.A.N.I.C. = Direcþia Arhivelor Naþionale Istorice Centrale / Direktion der ZentralenHistorischen Nationalen Archive

M.C.I.P. = Ministerul Culturii ºi Instrucþiunii Publice / Kultur- und Bildungsministerium

AbstractGerman Schools in Romania during World War I

Prior to the outbreak of World War I, approximately 50.000 Germans lived in the Old Kingdom(i.e. Moldavia and Walachia), 30.000 of them in Bucharest, where they controlled large sectorsof the trading industry, in spite of their rather reduced figures. Their schools were, alongsidethose of the Hungarian and Jewish communities, some of the most important educational insti-tutions in Romania. The study that attempts to explore the various aspects of everyday life underthe changed circumstances of World War I was triggered by the reading of Onisifor Ghibu’sbook on the German schools in Romania.

KeywordsEducation, school system, Germans, Romania (Old Kingdom), World War I


THE DIFFICULTIES and the ultimate failure of the tripartite negotiations betweenthe Soviet Union, France and Britain in the summer of 1939 made a Soviet-German agreement even more likely. Since early August, the contacts betweenBerlin and Moscow had become increasingly close. Unlike the British and theFrench, the Germans were ready to take into account Kremlin’s “vital interests”in Eastern Europe and the Baltic area.1 Therefore, the Soviets decided to acceptthe German proposals and to send back, politely, the Anglo-French missionthat was to negotiate and possibly conclude a Tripartite Treaty.2

The Soviets, however, interpreted in their own way the German offer, andStalin stated in the meeting of the Politburo of CP (b.) of U.S.S.R. on August19, 1939 that Germany had accepted Moscow’s full freedom of action in theBaltic countries, the restitution (sic!) of Bessarabia and the assignment to theSoviets of Romania, Bulgaria and Hungary, as a zone of influence. Accordingto the Kremlin leader, the only question that remained open was that of Yugoslavia.3

The actual demarcation of spheres of influence would be made upon conclusionof the Secret Additional Protocol to the German-Soviet non-aggression pacton August 23, 1939. Thus, the Germans recognized Moscow’s interests in Finland,Estonia, Latvia, Poland – beyond the line of the rivers Narva, Vistula, San –and Bessarabia. At least for now, Lithuania belonged to the German sphere ofinterest, but Lithuania’s rights over the Vilna region were recognized.4

The military defeat of Poland and its disappearance as a political entity requiredthe conclusion of a new agreement between Germany and the Soviet Union. The

The Repatriation of the Germans from Latvia and Romania

at the Beginning of World War IISome Comparative Aspects

BOGDAN-ALEXANDRU SCHIPOR


border between the two great powers was thus defined by the Treaty concludedon September 28, 1939, following a second visit of Ribbentrop to Moscow.5 Thiswas the situation the Soviets took advantage of to get Lithuania in return forthe Warsaw and Lublin regions, which were ceded to Germany.6 It seems thatthis time Stalin was satisfied with the new territorial gains, declaring to Khrushchevthat the Soviet Union had de facto right over the Baltic countries and Finland.7

The Soviets had already begun to apply a new political line in the threeBaltic States. Under these circumstances, the Estonian Foreign Minister KarlSelter was invited to Moscow on September 24, 1939, to sign a commercial treaty.Instead of such a document, the Soviets demanded the approval for military bases– army, naval and air – of the Red Army and the Red Fleet on the territory ofEstonia and the conclusion of a Mutual Assistance Pact.8 Estonia accepted Moscow’srequests by signing on September 28 the respective Mutual Assistance Pact, sup-plemented by a Secret Protocol.

Upon the conclusion of this document, the Soviets seemed to have overcomea psychological threshold in their policy towards their western neighbours.9

The Estonian example speaks for itself. The Soviet Union was prepared to threatenand use force to impose its “protection” and “support.” The mutual assistancepacts concluded later with Latvia, on October 5, 1939 and with Lithuania onOctober, 10 were obtained without resorting to force.10 These treaties containedbroadly similar provisions with the document signed by Estonia and they provided,as clear as possible, that the sovereignty of the three Baltic States would not beimpaired, and their political and economic systems would not undergo changes.11

One can ask why Moscow chose this, apparently subtle, way to project itsinfluence abroad. First of all, perhaps, to show the advantage – in terms of security,but not only – that could be gained by the states that accepted the Soviet“assistance.” Thus, the possibility was created that such a “model” would attractothers, such as Finland, Bulgaria or Romania.12 In fact, just two days after theconclusion of the mutual assistance pact between the Soviet Union and Lithuania,on October 12, 1939, the Bulgarian Minister at Berlin informed the GermanForeign Ministry about the proposal already made by Molotov to the Bulgarianauthorities to conclude a mutual assistance pact, a proposition initially rejectedby Sofia, then conditioned by the presentation of more concrete proposals by theSoviet party.13

In the West, the public opinion condemned in categorical terms the factthat the Germans conceded the Baltic area to the Soviets, qualifying it as a “historicaland moral disaster,”14 perhaps even more serious considering that Hitler himselfhad emphasized in Mein Kampf that the Baltic area represented a space in whichthe Reich’s influence had to prevail.15 Under these circumstances, the mutualassistance pacts concluded by the Soviets were considered to be no more than the


means of imposing a protectorate that could end the independence of three BalticStates.16 Moreover, at least in the French press, there were speculations regardinga possible annexation of the three Baltic States by the Soviet Union.17 Basicallythis meant that the Red Army troops were right in front of Eastern Prussia,dominating an area where the prevalent German influence was to be replacedby the Soviet influence. Further proof that things were as such is The Agreementon the Transfer of Latvian citizens of German Origin in Germany, concluded onOctober 30, 1939 between Germany and Latvia and through which 49,885Latvian citizens of German origin were “repatriated” to Germany.18

The German authorities wanted this transfer to be made as a single operation,the agreement itself, supplemented by an Additional Protocol, regulating thesituation of the movable and immovable property that emigrants left behind and,as much as possible, the damage that the departure of the citizens of Germanorigin would produce to the Latvian economy.19

According to the first article of the agreement, the Latvian government under-took to rescind the Latvian citizenship of the Latvian citizens of German ori-gin who, voluntarily, would declare their willingness to renounce Latvian citi-zenship and to leave their residences in Latvia. They were to be welcomed inGermany and receive German citizenship immediately after the rescindment ofthe Latvian one.

The rescindment of citizenship could be requested by any person of Germanorigin who was at least 16 years old. Spouses were to decide individually whetheror not they opted to renounce the Latvian citizenship, while for minors under16 years old the decision was to be taken by their parents or guardians. TheLatvian authorities undertook not to hinder in any way and, moreover, to expe-dite the entire administrative process, the request to renounce one’s citizenshipbeing exempted in this respect from stamp and chancery taxes. Moreover, theLatvian party undertook to release from service, upon request, the persons ofGerman origin who served in the army or were civil, municipal or ecclesiasticalservants.20

Once they received the documents attesting to the rescindment of citizenship,either from the Latvian Interior Ministry or the diplomatic and consularrepresentations – if such persons were outside Latvia – the Latvian immigrantshad to leave by December 15, 1939, the expenses incurred being borne by theGerman state. From this obligation were exempted only those considered asessential for the proper functioning of enterprises, businesses, or key institutions.

At the same time, the Latvian authorities would create an ad hoc committeewith the task of regulating the legal issues related to the Latvian properties ofthose who opted for emigration. The German party, in turn, created a stockcompany called Umsieldungs-Treuhand-Aktiengesellshaft, with the acronym UTAG,


subject to the Latvian legislation on joint-stock companies, except for derogationslisted in the Additional Protocol to the Agreement, relating to the movable propertywhich could not be imported or exported.21

The immovable properties of the emigrants were to be taken up by the LatvianState, after a thorough inventory, but their management was entrusted exclusivelyto UTAG. They were to be assessed according to criteria mutually agreed uponby the two parties and liquidated until December 31, 1941. If the Latviancourt and UTAG did not reach a common point view on the value of some goods,the agreement would be made at the level of the two governments.22

The plants or businesses of the immigrants were also to be inventoried.From among these, those that were important for the smooth development ofthe German-Latvian trade relations were to be subjected to a separate bilateralagreement, while the management of the remaining businesses would be assignedsolely to the Latvian authorities. However, the possibility of private agree-ments was not excluded. Moreover, if the Latvian party decided upon the liq-uidation of a company, the implementation of the decision was made in accor-dance with Latvian law, but fell within the competence of the company owneror UTAG. The liquidation of the Latvian associations, companies or profitablereal estate that belonged to German parishes were also to be carried out accord-ing to the Latvian legislation.23

A German-Latvian Joint Commission would handle the financial assets of theemigrants, contracted in Latvia. Those that had to be extinguished before theliquidation of UTAG were to be paid or warranted for a period not exceeding 10years, and the cash and assets were to be paid into a special account created bythe Bank of Latvia, while the debts of the Latvian side had to be paid in the formof additional exports of goods to the Reich.24

The Latvian citizens of German descent who opted for repatriation were trans-ferred to the region Posen, now Poznan, but the problems related to the prop-erty and assets that they have left behind were made difficult by the fact that inJune 1940 the Soviet Union annexed the small Baltic state. The German author-ities still tried to regulate this situation based on the good relations Berlin stillhad with Moscow, and this became the subject of a bilateral agreement, concludedon January 10, 1941. But the cooling of the German-Soviet relations and theoutbreak of the war between two great powers annulled any possibility of afair resolution.

As for the situation of the Germans in Romania, this was regulated a year later,in 1940. As I have pointed out above, it is possible that the Soviets had wantedto apply the model of mutual assistance treaties, as a first step towards the annexationin the case of Romania as well, but the Finnish interlude provided Bucharest witha respite.


The Peace Treaty signed by Finland on March 12, 1940 represented for theSoviet Union “the accomplishment of the task to secure its safety on the BalticSea,” as stated by Molotov on March 29, 1940, in a speech before the SupremeSoviet. On the same occasion, the Soviet diplomat stated that, as for the relationswith Romania, although there was a non-aggression pact between the two states,and the seizure (sic!) of Bessarabia was never recognized by Moscow, therewas no question of taking this region by force or worsening the relations withBucharest.25

However, mid-June 1940, Moscow presented their ultimatum to the BalticStates: to Lithuania on June 14, to Estonia and Latvia on June 16. This wasfollowed by the annexation itself, and then, on June 26, 1940, the ultimatumto Romania. The authorities in Bucharest accepted, as it is well known, the Sovietterms, ceding Bessarabia, Northern Bukovina and Hertza area, the last twoterritories not being included in the provisions of the Secret Additional Protocolof August 1939. On this occasion, Molotov was to declare that, on the contrary,the mutual assistance pacts concluded by the Soviet Union and the Baltic statesin the autumn of the previous year “had not produced the desired results,”but, nevertheless, the Estonian, Latvian and Lithuanian citizens, as well asthose of Bessarabia and Northern Bukovina became Soviet citizens “with greatjoy.”26 Molotov also believed that the bilateral relations with Romania could nowreturn to normal.27

The German authorities, who had given their consent, in the previous year,to the annexation of Bessarabia by the Soviets, requested Moscow on this occasionto address the issue of the approximately 100,000 ethnic Germans who livedin the region between Prut and Dnester. But Berlin was intrigued by the fact thatthe Soviet ultimatum to Romania also referred to Bukovina and Hertza area,territories where there also lived many citizens of German origin.28 Their situationcould be dealt directly with the Soviets, but the Reich leaders were also takinginto account the repatriation of the Germans in Romania. As in the case of Latvia,this was the object of a bilateral Romanian-German agreement, published inthe “Monitorul Oficial” of October 30, 1940. According to this document,that made direct reference to ethnic Germans from southern Bukovina andDobrudja, any person of German origin from the abovementioned territories wasentitled to seek repatriation. Once they received and registered the repatriationticket, the applicant entered the care of the German state and was subject tothe obligations under the Repatriation Convention. His property, movable andimmovable, that remained in the country was transferred to the Romanianstate, which paid compensation in accordance with market prices.

The outstanding debt of the repatriate to the Romanian state, generated bythe abandonment of his or her wealth was resigned to the German government,


which also undertook to pay compensation. Finally, each repatriate was entitledto take, duty free, 50 kg of luggage, his or her spouse another 30 kg, andfurthermore, each family could also take another 500 kg of large baggage.29

For comparison, the Soviets allowed the ethnic Germans from areas it controlledand who had requested repatriation to take up to 50 kg large baggage, 30 kghand luggage and 2.000 lei of all their belongings.

Together with the respective citizens, there were also expatriated to Germanyparish registers, documents of some German associations, societies and unions,as well as those of the administrative authorities in the villages that were completelyrepatriated. To manage the entire relocation process, a German RepatriationBureau was founded in Bucharest, its German acronym being D.A.S., whoseemployees had the status of diplomatic officials. In its turn, the Romanianparty created within the Ministry of National Economy a Sub-secretariat of Statefor Colonization and Evacuated Population, which operated a GeneralCommissariat for the Repatriation of the German Population. Its activity wasto be supported by the local commissioners, the village mayors and the leadersof the legionary garrisons in the area.30

As can be seen, the Romanian authorities did not impose restrictions onthe citizens of German origin that opted for repatriation. Although they werelosing a significant workforce and they took on a substantial financial effort byabsorbing into the public debt the value of the repatriates’ property, the Romanianauthorities have adopted this attitude because they could use the assets and theinventory of agricultural land left behind by ethnic Germans to house and eventuallyto compensate, at least partly, the refugees from Bessarabia, northern Bukovina,and subsequently, those from north-western Transylvania, territories lost bythe Romanian state in the fatidic year 1940. Because they lacked the necessaryfinancial strength to purchase the real estate of the German repatriates and, onthe other hand, because of the rich supply generated by this exodus, many propertieswere in the end assessed under the market price. Under these conditions, it isobvious that this was not due to the Romanian authorities’ malice, and the Germanparty understood and agreed with the reasons on which this fact was based.31

Unlike the case of Latvia, there were many Germans repatriated from Romaniawho later decided to return to their birthplace. Their situation was handled bythe Sub-secretary of State for Romanization, Colonization and Inventory. In 1940and 1941, the representatives of this institution have identified in concentrationcamps in Germany approximately 5000 people who decided to return to Romania.They were brought by train up to Vienna and then they were transported intothe country on the Danube River. Afterwards, until 1943, 8 217 persons werefound in this situation, among them being many who came from the territoriesannexed by the Soviets in 1940.32


In retrospect, the political decision to repatriate the ethnic Germans eitherfrom Latvia or from Romania, irrespective of the administrative or legal measuresthat accompanied and facilitated it, created, on both sides, deep human and socialdistortions whose consequences can still be felt today.

At the same time, however, the repatriations from Latvia and Romaniarepresented an accurate indicator of the fate and the particular situation of thesecountries. The Germans in Latvia, for example, were generally happy with thepossibility of immigrating to Germany, the measures taken jointly by the twogovernments encouraging and facilitating this process. Moreover, the repatriationof the Germans from Latvia was made in a political context in which the Sovietthreat was not perceived as an immediate one, not even by the German authorities.As noted, there were bilateral provisions indicating terms of up to 10 years for thesettlement of the situation. Under these circumstances, it is likely that the meaninggiven by Germans to ‘spheres of influence’ did not include the annexation itself,but other forms of domination. The Germans in Latvia could choose the repatriationin a political climate that did not anticipate Moscow’s aggression. In fact, in1932 Latvia had concluded a non-aggression treaty with the Soviet Union andin October 1939 one of mutual assistance. The Latvian State also concluded anon-aggression treaty with Germany in the summer of 1939. Thus, there wasnothing disturbing – in fact it was normal – about the fact that Germany concludeda non-aggression treaty with the Soviet Union in August 1939.

Berlin, on the other hand, knew that the tiny Baltic state entered the Sovietsphere of interest. The Soviet-Latvian Mutual Assistance Treaty confirmed Moscow’sdecision to implement to the letter the Secret Additional Protocol of August23, 1939, so the decision to repatriate the ethnic Germans from Latvia did noth-ing but confirm the decisions made by Molotov and Ribbentrop.

Beyond such a confirmation, otherwise inevitable, the repatriation of theGermans from southern Bukovina and Dobrudja, in 1940, was also determinedby other reasons. The Germans were taken aback by the fact that the Sovietsclaimed and subsequently annexed the northern part of Bukovina and Hertzaarea. The negotiations regarding the repatriation of the Germans from Romaniabegan almost immediately, and when they were completed in the autumn of 1940,the ethnic Germans from southern Bukovina, and not only, had enough reasonsto opt for leaving for Germany. Romania had lost vast territories in a veryshort time, the waves of refugees and, with them, the news that came especiallyfrom the territories occupied by Soviets, were increasingly disturbing, so leavingfor Germany was for many the option of a safer life for them and their families.The fact that many of these people returned later was determined not only byhomesickness, but also by the fact that the Romanian domestic situation stayedsomewhat stable and peaceful until 1943-44.


However, it remains certain that the repatriation of Germans from EasternEurope in 1939 and 1940, beyond any similarities or differences, nuances or con-sequences, was only one element in the redefinition of the spheres of influence,a barometer of the Soviet-German relations and aggression.

�

Notes

1. Nazi-Soviet Relations, 1939-1941. Documents from the Archives of the German ForeignOffice, (hereinafter, Nazi-Soviet Relations, 1939-1941) Edited by Raymond JamesSontag and James Stuart Beddie, Washington, Department of State, 1948, Departmentof State Publication 3023, p. 33.

2. The State University of Moldova, World History Department, Polonezii în anii celui de-al doilea rãzboi mondial. Culegere de documente [The Poles During World War II. Collectionof Documents], Editor, Introduction, Notes and Commentaries – prof. univ. AnatolPetrencu, Dr. Hab. of Historical Sciences, Chiºinãu, Cartdidact, 2004, p. 24.

3. Ibidem.4. Nazi-Soviet Relations, 1939-1941, p. 78.5. Emilian I. Bold, Rãzboiul de iarnã sovieto-finlandez (30 noiembrie 1939-12 martie 1940),

[The Russo-Finnish Winter War (November 30, 1939-March 12, 1940)], Iaºi, UniversitasXXI, 2001, p. 59.

6. Nazi-Soviet Relations, 1939-1941, p. 107.7. Cf. Emilian I. Bold, op. cit., p. 60. 8. Ibidem.9. Saulius Su�iedelis, The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and the Baltic States: An Introduction

and Interpretations, in „Lituanus”, Lithuanian Quarterly Journal of Arts and Sciences,Volume 35, No. 1, Spring 1989, < http://www.lituanus.org/1989/89_1_02.htm>

10. Ibidem.11. Edgar Anderson, The Pact of Mutual Assistance between the U.S.S.R. and the Baltic

States, in Baltic History, Editors Arvids Ziedonis Jr., William L. Winter, Mardi Valgemäe,Association for the Advancement of Baltic Studies, Inc., Columbus, Ohio, The OhioState University, 1974, p. 242.

12. Ibidem, p. 246.13. Nazi-Soviet Relations, 1939-1941, p. 124.14. Renè Pinon, Chronique de la Quinzaine, dans „Revue des deux mondes”, CIXe année,

[1939], Tom 54, Livraison du 15 octobre, p. 733.15. Cf. ibidem, Livraison du 1er novembre, p. 132.16. Ibidem, Livraison du 15 octobre, p. 733.17. Gabriel-Louis Jaray, Les États de la Baltique et l’accord germano-russe(sic!), dans „Revue

des deux mondes”, CIXe année, [1939], Tom 54, Livraison du 1er novembre, p. 32.18. Later, an agreement on the same subject was concluded by Germans with the occu-

pying Soviet forces, on January10, 1940. See the bilingual facsimile Likumu un


Ministru kabineta noteikumu krajums on November 8, 1939 in Janis Dagis, PrezidentsKarlis Ulmanis III., Riga, Ed. Latvijas Universitate, 1990, p. 529. A similar proce-dure was also recorded in the case of Romania, but the situation of our country, atthe time, was different from that of Latvia in the autumn of 1939.

19. Accord sur le transfert des citoyens lettons d’origine allemande en Allemagne du 30 octo-bre 1939, <http://www.letton.ch/lvrapatr.htm.>

20. Ibidem.21. Ibidem, Chapter VI of the Agreement.22. Ibidem, Chapter IX of the Agreement23. Ibidem, Chapter XIII of the Agreement.24. Ibidem, Chapter XVIII of the Agreement.25. V. M. Molotov, The Foreign Policy of the Government, A Report by the Chairman of

the Soviet of People’s Commissars and People’s Commissar for Foreign Affairs ‹Sovietof the Supreme session VI meeting› on March 29, 1940, State Publishing Houseof Political Literature, 1940, <http//www.pp.clinet.fi/~pkr01/history/molotov.html>

26. Cf. Alexander Werth, Russia at War, 1941-1945, s.l., Discus Books, Published byAvon, 1970, p. 111.

27. Ibidem.28. Nazi-Soviet Relations, 1939-1941, p. 155; see also p. 158.29. Franz Wiszniowski, Radautz. Cel mai german oraº din Þara Fagilor [Radautz. The

Most German Town in Beech Country], editor Franz Wiszniowski, Excerpts in freetranslation by prof. Ilie Viºan, p. 257-258.

30. ªtefan Purici, Strãmutarea germanilor sud-bucovineni ºi impactul asupra societãþiiromâneºti(III) [The Relocation of the Germans of Southern Bukovina and its Impact onthe Romanian Society(III)], in “Crai Nou”, year XII, 2990, Tuesday, June 12, 2001,p. 3.

31. Idem, Strãmutarea germanilor sud-bucovineni ºi impactul asupra societãþii româneºti(IV)[The Relocation of the Germans of Southern Bukovina and its Impact on the RomanianSociety(IV)]Ibidem


AbstractThe Repatriation of the Germans from Latvia and Romania at the Beginning

of World War II. Some Comparative Aspects

Beyond aspects strictly related to political or territorial issues, the Soviet-German non-aggres-sion pact signed on August 23rd, 1939 generated important demographic mutations in EasternEurope, hard to foresee prior to the outbreak of the war. After the delineation of the spheres ofinfluence and the new possessions of Germany and Soviet Union, Berlin tried to determine theGerman ethnics in Eastern Europe, including from territories obtained by the Soviet Union, tochoose to return to Germany, considered the true homeland. This decision was the basis for anample program for the repatriation of the German ethnics, first from the Baltic States and thanfrom other countries, including Romania. In the Romanian case, the German authorities, who had agreed in august 1939 to the annexa-tion of Bessarabia to the Soviet Union, asked Moscow on this occasion to solve the problem of thealmost 100.000 German ethnics who lived in the region between Prut and Dnester. Berlin wasintrigued by the fact that the Soviet ultimatum addressed to Romania in June 1940 referred equal-ly to Bukovina and the Hertza area, territories on which also lived many people of German ori-gin. Their issue could be solved directly with the Soviets, but the Reich’s leaders also took intoaccount the repatriation of the Germans from Romania.But, obviously, we never lose sight of the fact that the repatriation of the Germans from Bukovina,Bessarabia or Dobrudja represented only a part of a much larger process which cannot be fullyunderstood if we do not compare it, for example, to similar phenomena in the Baltic countries.The repatriation of the German ethnics from Latvia can emphasize both similarities and distinc-tions which, together, can form a more accurate image on an uprooted ethnic group seeking a newidentity in the old homeland, animated by promises, hopes and dreams of a better life. However,it remains certain that the repatriation of Germans from Eastern Europe in 1939 and 1940, beyondany similarities or differences, nuances or consequences, was only one element in the redefini-tion of the spheres of influence, a barometer of the Soviet-German relations and aggression.

Keywordsrepatriation, Germans, aggression, mutual assistance pacts, spheres of influence, Baltic States


MIOARA ANTON, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, Nicolae Iorga Institute ofHistory Bucharest1 Aviatorilor Blvd., Bucharest 011851, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

LIVIU BRÃTESCU, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory, Iaºi15 Lascãr Catargi St., Iaºi 700107, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

OVIDIU BURUIANÃ, Ph.D. Alexandru Ioan Cuza University, Faculty of History,Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory11 Carol St., Iaºi 700506, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

ION CÂRJA, Ph.D. Babeº-Bolyai University, Faculty of History andPhilosophy, Romanian Academy, Center forTransylvanian Studies1 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

CÃTÃLINA-ELENA CHELCU, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory, Iaºi15 Lascãr Catargi St., Iaºi 700107, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

OVIDIU CRISTEA, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, Nicolae Iorga Institute ofHistory Bucharest1 Aviatorilor Blvd., Bucharest 011851, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

MIHAI DRAGANOVICI, Ph.D. Technical University of Civil Engineering Bucharest,Department of Foreign Languages andCommunication124 Lacul Tei Blvd., Bucharest 020396, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

LIVIU-MARIUS HAROSA, Ph.D. Babeº-Bolyai University, Faculty of Law, RomanianAcademy, George Bariþiu Institute of History1 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

DAN DUMITRU IACOB, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory, Romanian Academy, Institute for Socio-Humanistic Research, Sibiu15 Lascãr Catargi St., Iaºi 700107, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

GHEORGHE LAZÃR, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, Nicolae Iorga Institute ofHistory Bucharest1 Aviatorilor Blvd., Bucharest 011851, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

ªERBAN MARIN, Ph.D. Romanian National Archives, Romanian Academy,Nicolae Iorga Institute of History Bucharest1 Aviatorilor Blvd., Bucharest 011851, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

ANDRÁS MÁTÉ, Ph.D. Babeº-Bolyai University, Faculty of Economics58-60 Teodor Mihali St., Cluj-Napoca 400591,Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

NICOLAE MIHAI, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory, Iaºi, Romanian Academy, Institute forSocio-Humanistic Research, Craiova15 Lascãr Catargi St., Iaºi 700107, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

ANDI MIHALACHE, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory, Iaºi15 Lascãr Catargi St., Iaºi 700107, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

LIST OF AUTHORS

LEVENTE NAGY, Ph.D. Eötvös Loránd University, Romanistic Institute4 Múzeum St., Budapest 1088, Hungarye-mail: [email protected]

PAUL NISTOR, Ph.D. Alexandru-Ioan Cuza University, RomanianAcademy, A.D. Xenopol Institute of History11 Carol St., Iaºi 700506, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

CIPRIAN PÃUN, Ph.D. Babeº-Bolyai University, Faculty of Economics,Romanian Academy, George Bariþiu Institute ofHistory58-60 Teodor Mihali St., Cluj-Napoca 400591,Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

CRISTIAN PLOSCARU , Ph.D. Alexandru-Ioan Cuza University, RomanianAcademy, A.D. Xenopol Institute of History11 Carol St., Iaºi 700506, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

LAURENÞIU RÃDVAN, Ph.D. Alexandru-Ioan Cuza University, RomanianAcademy, A.D. Xenopol Institute of History11 Carol St., Iaºi 700506, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

CARMEN PATRICIA RENETI, Ph.D. Goethe-Institut, Bucharest8-10 Tudor Arghezi St., Bucharest 020945,Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

BOGDAN-ALEXANDRU SCHIPOR, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, A.D. Xenopol Institute ofHistory, Iaºi15 Lascãr Catargi St., Iaºi 700107, Romaniae-mail: [email protected]

ALEXANDRU SIMON, Ph.D. Romanian Academy, Center for TransylvanianStudies, Cluj-Napoca12–14 Kogãlniceanu St., Cluj-Napoca 400084,Romaniae-mail: [email protected]
