He was ready to follow in the footsteps of the martyr Constantin Brâncoveanu

Returning to the period of re-education or “self-analysis”, as the Minister of the Internal Affairs called it, and which Petre Pandrea had the audacity to describe in the most “luminous colours”, “with the lamp of eternity on the table” (which he did), in exchange for a more generous regime of penance, it cannot be said that all the inmates of Aiud succumbed to oppression.

Not all of them had analysed themselves, despite the great temptations of which liberation was the most important. Not a few had become victims. A month, or even half a year, after decades of investigation and life behind bars, counted for a lot. And what would the man, exhausted by his imprisonment, have done? He would have given in.

For those for whom freedom no longer counted, the evidence of the great achievements of “victorious socialism in towns and villages” had been invented instead. In the hope that some of the rejected bosses would give in…

Since this “proof” was difficult to achieve with pictures, graphics and words alone, it was decided that it would be done by means of a larger, even more expensive action, in which the heads of the unwilling would be moved on the field, in luxurious cars. And so, for a few days, we were driven around the country by car to the most spectacular factories, mines and sweatshops, in front of the “obvious”, and many came to admit:

“Yes, I was wrong, I didn’t know that you could do everything the Communist Party did in the country. We deserved our punishment, we only understand it now”.

Prince Alexander Ghica did not share the same opinion. When they brought him back from his “trip” to admire the achievements of victorious socialism, and Colonel Crăciun asked him what he liked best and what impressed him, he answered dreamily, looking at the prison walls:

– The willows of Aiudel, Warden!

– You’re still a bandit, Prince! the warden growled. And how many I haven’t shown you!…

In truth, Christmas had shown him and the others many things in the rush of the wagon. But the Prince had only seen the willows on Aiudel, and had cared little for them compared to the other prisoners, because that was all he had seen.

And how hard the Party had worked to re-educate the prisoners, especially in Aiud! He had organised conferences in the prison, attended by writers, university professors from Cluj, journalists and former dignitaries who had “understood” the way of the times… and they still didn’t give in, the bandits! What the hell were they going to try?

And then there was something else: sentimental blackmail.

The Securitate advised the families of the prisoners to send them letters and photos asking them to do “everything possible”, i.e. to make all the necessary concessions, to get their children or elderly parents back home.

On some pictures, the child himself wrote: “Daddy, look how big I’ve become! Why don’t you come and see me?

On others, the women, on behalf of themselves or their children, boasted of their success in life or at work, having obtained, thanks to the Party, an important post or position in the state, university, high school or factory.

And their final question, also at the suggestion of the Securitate, sounded something like this: “And you, father (or son, or husband), why don’t you want to do what is asked of you so that you can come home sooner?

And yet, rejecting the temptations, rejecting the family summons, rejecting the entreaties, many of them stayed in Aiud. Alecu Ghica was the most unyielding.

One day, in the prison yard, in front of hundreds of inmates, a young man dressed in white read out the letter that Alecu Ghika’s youngest son had written to his father, telling him that he had finished his medical studies and had been given a post as a researcher:

“So what?

Then the colonel began to shout again for all to hear:

– All right, Prince! Don’t you care about your own son? The Party even offered him a place at university, while my children can’t even get in! And you still do nothing?

– Colonel, you may know from history that an ancestor of mine lost his head for Bucovina in 1700. And I think you also know from books that a Wallachian gentleman, Constantin Brâncoveanu, was taken by the Turks to Constantinople to be cut down with his whole family if he didn’t renounce Christianity. And when his youngest child begged him in tears to persuade the Sultan because he was ready to become a Muslim, his father replied:

“You would rather die in your faith!”

Well, Colonel, knowing all this, what can I say to my son? Only that he should die according to his faith, as I probably will.

But if he dies, Alexander Ghica will not die in prison, but will go down in history as a true prince…

(Marcel Petrișor – Past Lives of Lords, Slaves and Comrades)