Mircea Vulcănescu (en)

Mircea Vulcănescu was born into the family of the financial inspector Mihail Vulcănescu and Mărina, née Tonescu. He attended secondary school at the “Matei Basarab” gymnasium in Bucharest (1914-1916) and, during the refugee period in Moldova in the First World War, continued his education at the refugee gymnasium next to the National Gymnasium (1916-1917) and at the “Ștefan cel Mare” gymnasium in Iași. During this period, he also worked in the scout formations of the military census at the Central Post Office in Bucharest, as a telephone operator at the “Sfântul Spiridon” Epitropy Hospital în Iași and even as the […]

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At that time, Aiud had a few modest workshops, mainly for the work of the common people, which were euphemistically called factories. There was a workshop that repaired the carts of the prisoners, but also those of the peasants from the neighbouring villages who wanted to use its services. There was also a blacksmith’s shop where brooms, horseshoes, shoes, railway sleepers and other parts for the peasants’ needs were made, as well as metalware (stoves, buckets, sprinklers, troughs, trays and iron beds). Behind the building that housed the forge and the anvils of the smithy, there was a room about […]

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I had Mircea Vulcănescu as a professor of ethics at the University of Bucharest during my undergraduate studies. His Saturday afternoon lectures were full of dynamism and originality. He came to the lectures with handouts, organised by problems and structured by essentials, but the presentation and the course were made full and charming by the personal note of the speaker, who fascinated by his eloquence, originality and the broad perspective in which he framed any problem, idea or philosophical system. In this way, his handouts became mere tools, because during the lecture, Vulcănescu was a true creator. It was as […]

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Mircea Vulcănescu, writer, philosopher, sociologist, economist, encyclopaedic mind and complex personality of the ’27 generation, died in Aiud prison on 29 October 1952.  Between 1940 and 1941, he held important posts in the national administration, and on 27 January 1941 he was appointed Under-Secretary of State at the Ministry of Public Finance, where he remained until 23 August 1944. In recognition of his services to the Romanian State, he was awarded honours and major national decorations and, after 23 August 1944, he became Director of the Public Debt Service, also at the Ministry of Public Finance. Sentenced to eight years’ […]

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One afternoon, Mircea Vulcănescu was among those waiting to collect their parcels. The prisoners had to be let out of their cells to get their packages. The guard on the cell cross asked another one, “Which Vulcănescu?” – The murderer! Once he’d taken his package, Mr. Mircea Vulcănescu called me to taste something from it. He said:  – “Did you hear what he called me?” “The murderer.” The man, who was so kind and gentle, was called a murderer, of course, because that’s what he was sentenced as: a war criminal. It was a pretty ungrateful situation, both for us […]

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I spent a few days in the nurse’s reserve in Aiud prison, where I met some great people. General Iosif Iacobici, an optimistic guy through and through, shared some great news with his good friend and fellow sufferer, General Gheorghe Dobre, a former minister, in a moment of high spirits: – My friend, I have some fantastic news from outside. We’re having sarmale at home for Christmas. It was the kind of high that often got the elders in the dungeon feeling good when something unexpected or encouraging made its way in. Like many others, the general had dreamed a […]

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I happened to be kicked out of the lot for torture in the same series with Mircea Vulcănescu. My ordeal was over and I was lying in a corner on the floor. Next up was Mircea Vulcănescu. After beating him all over his body (I lost count of how many times), he collapsed into unconsciousness. He was covered in blood. A big gypsy grabbed him by the leg and pulled him along the ground. His head was moving back and forth like a ball tied with a string, being pulled by a child at play. As he walked right past […]

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One day, Dinu Iorgulescu [1], who was one of the kids eavesdropping at the door, gave us a sign to be quiet. We heard footsteps, swearing and banging. The alarm was triggered outside the cell. The door opened and three skeletons were thrown into the room, beaten and kicked. “Hold conferences here too, and promise you, I’ll give you hell,” Ivănică warned them, closing the door. We all rushed in. The kids took them in, put them on their cushions and gave them first aid: cold water compresses, accompanied by the sound of the prayer: “And forgive us… as we […]

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It’s hard to put into words why so many of the world’s geniuses, and I’m talking about our own country here, have passed away at relatively young ages or at ages that were not quite the typical age of retirement. Mircea Vulcănescu was one of these brilliant minds from Romania who faced death with grace and gratitude, celebrating the fullness of life he had lived and the wisdom he had gained. Maybe the sacrifice of these remarkable men will be seen as a heavy price to pay in the eyes of history, for the many of us left to languish […]

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I spent about two weeks with Mircea Vulcănescu in the political disciplinarians’ room. I was sharing a room with him. They brought him into the room, all beaten up, along with two legionaries, Vojen and Constant, who were also severely beaten.  One of his roommates recognised him and said: “That’s Mircea Vulcănescu.” He’s a university professor. “He’s got a head like that!” He even opened his arms to show me how smart he is. Even though we were all packed in together, I made room for him between us. “Maybe I can pick his brain a bit, or at least […]

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Of the last batch to arrive, they were all one and one, and the most special figure was Mircea Vulcănescu. He stood out not only because of his stature and poise, not only because of his exceptional erudition, but also just by his mere presence. After spending the night in December in a room with water on the floor and no place to lean, he was sick with a fever. He had been there with several others, all equally naked, suffering and afraid. Despite the hunger, cold, beatings and extreme fatigue, he still looked like he was willing to make […]

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Mrs. Măriuca Vulcănescu, who celebrated her 82nd birthday on 1 July 2015, still has the spirit of a young woman. Her zest for life comes from a lifetime of experience, witnessing the world of another era when freedom meant fighting for truth, justice and, above all, for Christ. A world where confessing was just a natural thing for the aristocratic class. Mrs. Măriuca also looks like her father, the confessor Mircea Vulcănescu. He left when she was young to confess his Creed, leaving the Good Lord to take care of his daughters. And he was right. In fact, this man’s […]

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Mircea Vulcănescu, a major figure in Romanian culture, was a dominant force in philosophy, theology and economics during the third, fourth and part of the sixth decade of this century, before his death in prison. Mircea Vulcănescu was undersecretary of State at the Ministry of Finance under Antonescu when he was arrested for the first time in 1946. He spent ten days in prison and kept a diary, which is being published for the first time now in our journal. The diary is accompanied by two sketches of the place of detention made by the author: a plan of the […]

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Born in Bucharest, he’s a poet like all Romanians. I completed the first four years of primary school. I was brought up in a number of different cultural institutions, which has helped me to become a true synthesis of Romanian culture, a jewel of the nation and of humanity.

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He was born in Bucharest on 19 February (old calendar) 1904 to parents originally from Oltenia. During the war years, he went to high school in Bucharest, sometimes in public, sometimes privately, in various cities of refuge: Iași, Tecuci, Galați. He studied Philosophy and Law at the University of Bucharest, and got his licences in these two areas. He went on to complete his studies in Paris, where he gained a diploma in law and political economy from the Faculty of Law. He also studied theology here, getting to know Orthodox and Thomist circles. He went back to Bucharest and […]

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”He was a truly exceptional individual.”  Alexandra Elisabeta de Hillerin, Sandra, as she is known in her family, is the middle daughter of philosopher Mircea Vulcănescu and lives in Paris. She’s a bright and kind person. She was kind enough to welcome us on a late spring afternoon, which turned into a real feast. She spent several hours talking to us about her father, a brilliant representative of the “golden generation” of the inter-war period, and many other great intellectuals of the elite who tragically ended up in the communist prison of Aiud. His portrait is based on memories that […]

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Dear Madam, In the Hasidic Histories, it is said of Baal-Shem-Tov: “As the souls were all in Adam, the moment he approached the Tree of Knowledge, Baal-Shem-Tov’s soul was freed and so he ate none of the fruit of the Tree.” The more I think about your father, the more it seems like he was an incredible exception who probably managed to avoid our shared fate by some miracle. It might seem a bit pointless to say that a truly universal spirit hadn’t tasted the cursed fruit. But this must be the truth, because he had such incredible knowledge and […]

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Excellency and dear friend, I’m happy to say that Miss Elena Văcărescu has just returned to Paris. As always, her time in Prague was a great source of happiness, joy and spiritual delight for us. I’m really grateful to you for sending me that lovely message. I’d also like to thank Mr. Mircea Vulcănescu for sending me his great collection of abstracts from the Brno Congress, as well as his excellent report on the crisis in the West and its impact in Central, Eastern and South-Eastern Europe. At the same congress last year, I gave my personal view on the […]

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During my time at Aiud prison, as in other prisons I’ve been in, there was a severe lack of medicine. The few that were available were kept under lock and key by Doctor Ranca, the head of the hospital, who distributed them very sparingly. Cases that broke out during the night couldn’t be treated at all. People died one by one, as happened to Mircea Vulcănescu, Dr. Balaban Constantin, Anghel Sebe, and others, hundreds and perhaps thousands, unknown in all the prisons in the country. […] When Mircea Vulcănescu, the leader of his generation, passed away, people spoke about and […]

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Sandra, one of Mircea Vulcănescu’s daughters, sent the letter to Ștefan J. Fay for documentation. Dear Ișta, In 1952, Mircea Vulcănescu was transferred from Aiud prison to Jilava prison for an investigation (which, in fact, concerned another Vulcănescu, named Ion). At the time, the prisoners at Jilava were subjected to relentless abuse, with the clear intention of exterminating them (daily beatings, starvation, cramming as many prisoners as possible into small, airless cells, or their total isolation in the cold, dark and damp for long periods, torture with or without investigations and non-existent medical care). One day, Mircea Vulcănescu was taken […]

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