Perspective from the 19th Hole is the title I chose for my personal blog, which is meant to give me an outlet for one of my favorite crafts – writing – plus to use an image from my favorite sport, golf. Out of college, my first job was as a reporter for the Daily Astorian in Astoria, Oregon, and I went on from there to practice writing in all my professional positions, including as press secretary in Washington, D.C. for a Democrat Congressman from Oregon (Les AuCoin), as an Oregon state government manager in Salem and Portland, as press secretary for Oregon’s last Republican governor (Vic Atiyeh), and as a private sector lobbyist. This blog also allows me to link another favorite pastime – politics and the art of developing public policy – to what I write. I could have called this blog “Middle Ground,” for that is what I long for in both politics and golf. The middle ground is often where the best public policy decisions lie. And it is where you want to be on a golf course.
If a country was ruled by Communism, who would lead an effort to rid a country of that regime and restore democracy if “the people” wanted a change?
Well, here in Romania, I learned the other day that, among others, it was a 15-year-old youth who now, many years later, still lives in Romania’s largest city, Bucharest, and remembers, as if it was just recently, the overthrow of a hated regime.
This is one of the fascinating facts you learn when, as is true for my wife and me, we were stuck in Bucharest for three days when the water in the Danube River was too low to allow our scheduled trip on the river to proceed. So, we are reduced to a bus tour instead of a river cruise.
We also found time to find out more about this former communist city.
Plus, more about what I call the “profile in courage.”
A man named Egmont Pușcașu was the protest leader who still lives in Bucharest now many years after the fall of communism where he played a major role.
In 1989, photos show him at the forefront of the protest as he chanted for the fall of a dictator who had left him and others in Romania adrift, without adequate water, food or heat as the regime exported everything with no care for citizens.
In the photo, at 15 years-of-age, Puscasu is dressed entirely in black, standing on top of a vehicle and screaming out to protest against the regime. Just as he did that, a friend, standing just next to him, was shot and killed. Hundreds of others died as communist leaders called in tanks and guns.
Puscasu was wounded, but was able to carry on.
As for today, so many years later, Puscasu works for Viking Cruises, the proprietor of our cruise ship – or, should I say, the renter of the buses that now will take us to Budapest in the next few days.
Puscasu thought about entering politics and did for a few years, driven by his fame, but found out soon, he told me, that politics didn’t suit him and he could do more in private life.
So, the other day, he spoke to us and many others in person, recounting, not only his role, but all of the many other roles that turned Romania toward democracy and away from communism.
He told incredible stories of bravery and tragedy, standing as he spoke only steps from the site where communism met its end in Romania.
Beyond stories, Puscasu appealed to everyone to be thankful for liberty, if, in fact, they live in liberty as citizens of Romania now do.
He said:
“Don’t lost sight of the fact that liberty could disappear quickly if you don’t support it. Communism lost in Romania because its leaders took everything from the people. Now, in a democracy, we have the right to think, speak, and to advocate. If you live in a democracy, hold tight to that liberty.”
Motivated by Puscasu’s comments, I went on-line and obtained more information on the revolt in Bucharest almost 40 years ago. Here is a summary:
The demise of communist leader Nicolae Ceaușescu’s regime centered on a fateful public rally on December 21 and the takeover of the Central Committee building a day later.
On December 21, Ceaușescu, fearing for the collapse of his regime, called a mass public assembly of about 100,000 people outside the Central Committee building to condemn the uprising that had begun days earlier in Timișoara.
It was a fateful mistake. Mid-speech, unexpected boos, whistles, and explosions in the crowd broke the broadcast, shocking Ceaușescu and other leaders as they stood high on a balcony overlooking the square.
Citizens flooded major thoroughfares like Magheru Boulevard and University Square – we saw those this week — facing violent crackdowns by security forces, tanks, and police through the night.
On the morning of December 22, massive crowds that had been under the gun regrouped and overwhelmed the center of Bucharest, forcing the military to stop fighting the people – and even, on occasion, joining the protestors.
Trapped by the surging crowds, Ceaușescu and his wife fled the capital by helicopter from the roof of the Central Committee building, a retreat that marked the practical end of communist rule in Romania. They were captured a couple days later, stood trial quickly, were found guilty, and summarily executed to illustrate that communism was no longer in charge.
So, to conclude, as my wife and I were ready for a cruise on the river, instead, we were treated to a profile in courage.
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And this footnote: On one hand, it is easy for me to condemn communism, given the traits of such a regime as the one in Romania, especially in Bucharest. It hammered the Romanian people into submission at the behest of the all-important “state.”
But, as we talked to a waiter in our hotel, he said something interesting. As a native of Bucharest, he told us that his parents appreciated communism because it “guaranteed” (my word, not his) a way of life for their family.
Two views: One from the patriot who led an overthrow of communism and another from a citizen who remembers the regime more fondly.
This reminded me of a conversation a number of years ago when we were in Prague. Our tour guide there said she was glad communism was over in Prague, but her parents missed the “old way” because of the guarantees (there is that word again, mine) that it provided.