Doru Pop, “Our suffering as a testimony for future generations”, Caietele Echinox, vol. 15, 2008, pp.
115-121.
In 2006 the national television channel
Romania 1 (TVR 1) launched a campaign among its viewers to nominate a person –
one born in, or who has lived in Romania and that made a seminal contribution
to the development of this country. Among the top ten nominees, there were
former kings, political and military leaders and a surprise nomination. The
pastor Richard Wurmbrand, got 46.973 votes, out of the 363.846 telephone votes,
and thus ranked the fifth in the “Top 10 Romanians” rankings. And in the same
TOP 100 of „most famous Romanians”, Nicolae Steinhardt, writer and Orthodox
monk, occupied the 86th place.
Many of the survivors and
victims of the Romanian Gulag featured in this Top 100, among them,
philosophers and writers (Constantin Noica, Petre Ţutea), peasants (Elisabeta
Rizea), politicians (Corneliu Coposu, Iuliu Maniu), and other figures of the
cloth (Iuliu Hosu, Alexandru Todea). But with Wurmbrand and Steinhardt the
situation was somehow different. Although their appearance on the short list of
the top 100 famous Romanians has no sociological relevance, the fact that two
Romanians of Jewish origin, two atheists converted to Christianity and
survivors of the Communist prisons made it into the collective imaginary as
„positive contributors”, raises several questions and yields itself to an
opportunity to draw a comparison between the two and allows the discussion of
their intellectual and cultural heritage in Romanian literature.
„My blood is Jewish, but as
for feeling and thinking, I think and feel in Romanian” (N. Steinhardt)
One major problem is raised by
the common cultural background that Richard Wurmbrand and Nicolae Steinhardt
(Nicu-Aurelian Steinhardt) shared as young men. This in turn relates to a
question debated intensely in Romania before the War War II, engendered by the
publication of Mihail Sebastian’s novel Since Two Thousand Years (De două mii
de ani, republished 1995) during the nineteen thirties. A key dispute
gravitated around the „Introduction” to the novel, signed by Nae Ionescu. What
is the essence of the so-called „Romanian national identity” with respect to how
a Romanian of Jewish origin (or for that matter any foreign national) can
define the limits of his ethnicity with respect to „national” identity? Nae
Ionescu, one of the spiritual leaders of the right wing intelligentsia at the
time, gave a negative and restrictive answer to the question, one rooted in the
Nazi Arian propaganda.
The question was addressed
later by Nicolae Steinhardt in The Diary of Happiness (Jurnalul Fericirii):
„Nae Ionescu claims that whoever has no Romanian blood can act as a „good Romanian”,
but cannot under any circumstances, become „Romanian”. As so this is, if we
consider only the measure of human capabilities. But that which is not possible
for men is only possible for God. On a humanly level, one cannot make the leap
from the quality of
„good Romanian to the state of
being „Romanian”. What about the baptism of blood, as it was for my cousin
Theodor in Mărăşeşti? What about by means of transfiguration (…) biologically
and ethnically, yes. Mystically, these problems are addressed in a totally
different way” (The Diary of Happiness, p. 17).
This is something that brings
Steinhardt and Wurmbrand together: they were not only „good Romanians”, but
they proved to be „Romanians” in the deepest and most tragic of ways. The
consequence of being „Romanian”, as was the case of Steinhardt and Wurmbrand,
had dreadful side effects – very well documented in their journals remembering
the detention period. This meant psychic and physical torture, lack of basic
civil rights and moral degradation, constant threat and violence.
Still, both Wurmbrand and
Steinhardt embraced and praised the Romanian ethos, and this love for Romania
and the Romanian identity is common for both writers. Wurmbrand expresses this
in an explicitly and dramatic manifestation: „It is dear to me the bonding with
all the brothers and sisters from all countries and confession, but my heart
never ceased to yearn for my native country, Romania, the country where I was
born the second time. (…) After so much time, here we were at last in Romania.
Overwhelmed by emotion, I kissed the ground.” (From Suffering…). Steinhardt
finds an even more profound signification, one of theological relevance:
„The Romanian people has a
power for transfiguration that allows the changing of the entire universe and
to enter the liturgic cosmos… Like Christianity, Romanianism can abolish the
apparently irreparable consequences of a tragedy, giving them unexpected
values” (The Diary…, p. 349).
After the decree number 169,
signed in 1938, almost 80 percent of the Jewish population in Romania lost its
permanent citizenship rights (it has to be underlined that the decree was
signed by a Romanian writer and intellectual, Octavian Goga, at that time prime
minister), and over 600 thousands Jews were defined as „foreign residents”.
This law was followed by dozens of other laws and decrees, all inspired by the
Nazi Nuremberg laws, and all anti-Semitic (The Tragedy of Romanian Jewry). In
his „Autobiography”, Steinhardt bears witness to this double tragedy: a „second
grade Jew” during World War II he watched others deported and he himself was
subjected to humiliating forced labors.
In this context, being
intellectuals of Jewish origin, writing and manifesting in a culture of
anti-Semitism – like Romania during the 30′s – people like Steinhardt and
Wurmbrand were threatened by physical extinction. There are no official
records, but between 280.000-380.000 Jews were killed in Romania, and entire
communities were decimated, including the families of Wurmbrand and Steinhardt
(the family of Sabina Wurmbrand was deported in Transnistria and none returned
(cf. In God’s Underground, Cu Dumnezeu în subterană, p. 22). According to the
Final Report of the International Commission on the Holocaust in Romania (Final
Report…, November 2004), extermination, anti-Semitic actions and general
violence against Jews in Romania were widespread. So it can be said that
Steinhardt and Wurmbrand were victims of the Gulag and the Holocaust at the
same time. Still, Steinhardt remained a „Renaissance Jew, who obstinately
wanted to be Romanian. And Christian!” (Quote from Teşu Solomonovici). And
Wurmbrand’s work in the building of the Romanian Church after 1990 proved its
deep impact.
The paradox
of the survivor: What both Steinhardt and Wurmbrand provided the post
communist Romanian literature and culture was their somewhat paradoxical
inheritance. This is similar to the concept suggested by Sorin Alexandrescu in
The Romanian Paradox (Paradoxul român), of a cultural sphere were
contradictions coexisted – sometimes peacefully, sometimes violently. The first
paradox we can identify in our two authors is the ability mixing several
different identities. Richard Wurmbrand was an Evangelical Minister, the
youngest son of a Jewish dentist converted to Christianity, a Communist
illegalist turned into preacher for the Red Army soldiers. There is this common
legacy of the two men, which goes beyond their Christian missionary writing.
Richard Wurmbrand studied Marxism in Moscow as a young illegalist, and was
imprisoned in Doftana by the Siguranţa Statului. Nicolae Steinhardt sympathized
with socialism, until one of his friends provided an insight about left wing
totalitarianism. Later they both witnessed the atrocities of the totalitarian
system.
But during their imprisonment
they showed the force of this paradoxical ethos, the moral character of being
able to stop perceiving differences. Wurmbrand’s ministry to the Red Army
soldiers continued in prison, where he spread his belief in Christ even to the
former leaders of the Communist Party (as was the case with Lucreţiu
Pătrăşcanu, imprisoned in the same cell with Wurmbrand for several weeks). The
passage of Wurmbrand (and Steinhardt) through the communist penal system, from
Gherla to the Black Sea Canal and Jilava, was a long journey of spreading
Christian faith, by words and, especially, by actions.
This generated a form of
ecumenism of pain where „Romanians, Hungarians, Saxons,, Jews, Christian Jews,
Reformed Christians, Orthodox, Catholics, Evangelicals, Greek-Catholics,
Unitarians, and representatives of some smaller denominations, laypersons and
monks, at the second floor of the old wing of the prison at Gherla, were living
in a single cell. There was no better opportunity than this (for ecumenism)”
(according to Ferenc Visky, 70 stories…). The same ecumenism is mentioned by
Steinhardt. „I received the baptism in Jilava, from an orthodox monk, but also
under the sign of ecumenism. I choose Orthodoxy by free will (because in the
cell there were Catholics and Protestants and Neo Protestants) and by total
acknowledgement, because it is dear to me and I am convinced I will remain
faithful to this belief to the end. (A letter to Victor Rusu, quoted in Ziua,
nr. 3840, 27 Ian. 2007). And ecumenism again pervades the writings of
Wurmbrand: „I am a Protestant, but we have had near us Catholic bishops and
monks and nuns about whom we felt that the touching of their garments heals.”
(In God’s…).
In the end, Steinhardt finds
this paradox in the very nature of Christianity (from The God that You Say You
Don’t Believe In, pp. 100-105).
„Christianity is hard because
its bases are paradoxical and absurd. The teachings of Christ are surprising
and unexpected. What every Christian is expected to do is very similar to what
the trapezes stuntman is required: a dangerous balance at a staggering height,
without a net…”
Written
testimonials against Communism: Wurmbrand and Steinhardt were Christians
convicted for their beliefs, their Jewish identity was used against them, they
were condemned to torture and death, still they survived and they were able to
give us a legacy of their survivor. And the first and perhaps the most
important heritage they left were their literary testimonials of the Communist
Gulag in Romania.
From the very beginning of the
freedom of publishing, immediately after the political changes in Romania after
1989, there was a subsequent and substantial publication of the literary works
of Pastor Richard Wurmbrand and Nicolae Steinhardt. Although Wurmbrand’s first
books were published in English – ”Sermons in Solitary Confinement” (Predici
din celula singuratică), ”If Prison Walls Could Speak” (Dacă zidurile ar putea
vorbi) and ”Alone with God” (Singur cu Dumnezeu), his books were only later
brought to Romania. So Wurmbrand’s fertile works continued to be printed, two
dozens of books (among them Îmbătat de dragoste, De la suferinţă la biruinţă,
Strigătul bisericii prigonite, 100 de meditaţii din închisoare, Adu-ţi aminte
de fraţii tăi, Oracolele lui Dumnezeu, Mai mult decât biruitori, Avraam tatăl
tuturor credincioşilor, Cele 7 cuvinte de pe cruce, Christos pe uliţa evreiască,
Umpleţi vidul, Dovezi ale existenţei lui Dumnezeu, Marx şi Satan, Isus
prietenul teroriştilor, Drumul spre culmi), were soon to be translated in
Romanian and widely transmitted in the laic and Christian libraries.
This was also the case of
Nicolae Steinhardt’s Jurnalul Fericirii (The Diary of Happiness) which was one
of the best-sellers in the bookshelves of Romanian libraries during the 90′s,
hundred of thousand of copies, in several editions, were published. The Diary
of Happiness was said to be the most read book in Romania of that day, in 2006
Dacia editing house in Cluj announced that 300.000 copies were sold since 1990.
During that time, more than twenty books signed by Nicolae Steinhardt were
published, by several editing houses in Romania. In the end this caused a
copyright lawsuit, between some editing houses, editors who more or less openly
published Steinhardt’s works and the monastery of Rohia, all claiming rights to
the writings of the deceased author.
But soon enough they were
famous figures of post communist public debate in Romania. Nicolae Steinhardt,
„the monk from Rohia”, was proposed for canonization, and his face appeared
even on painted icons, designed in high school contests. After his death in
March 1989, Steinhardt remained a symbol of the Orthodox Church, a cultural
figurehead recognized both by the intelligentsia and the other denominations.
When Pope John Paul II came to Bucharest he mentioned, amongst „the many
witnesses of Christ that flourished on Romanian land I wish to remember the
monk from Rohia, Nicu Steinhardt, exceptional believer figure and man of
culture who perceived in a special way the immense wealth common to Christian
Church.” Richard Wurmbrand returned to Romania, after years in exile and was
hailed, both by the Christian community and the media, as one of the most
influential writers of the decade.
The story of their survivor is
on one hand the story of resistance and on the other hand one of remembrance.
„To be held for years in prison is a misfortune. But it is a tragedy to be held
for so many years in prison and not to learn from this (…) not to be angry
against the innocent, but from knowledge to get some lessons” (In God’s…, p.
11). The fact that one remembers the experience of Communist Gulag has a pedagogical
finality, those who were never subjected to this tragedy. Again Wurmbrand
expresses his belief in these words: „I believe that what we suffer today can
be useful for the future generations” (In God’s…, p. 114).
This bearing witness against
Communism (and for Christianity) is the mark of Wurmbrand’s passing through the
labor camp and penitentiary system. One of his first encounters in the
Communist jail was with the former leader of the Communist Party, Lucreţiu
Pătrăşcanu. Wurmbrand recounts their discussions and the long debate about
tyranny, terror and the relationship between Christian faith and „Communist
faith”. Wurmbrand was a witness against Communism both in prison and outside
the prison. The evil nature of communism, that has no distinctions, all the
groups are put together, people who played bridge were guilty of playing, of
the „stamp exchangers”, just because they made exchanges of stamps with the
face of the Marshall Antonescu – the dementia nature of the regime of terror.
Condemning people for their normal actions – one is not condemned for illegal
activities but for what he is!
Steinhardt recounts his
meeting, after the years of imprisonment, with Bellu Zilber, a Communist friend
who, during the 30’s had many contradictory discussions with Steinhardt and his
friend Manole (Em. Neuman). „Who would have guessed”, recounts Steinhardt,
„that we will both be clients (he himself more faithful than me) of communist
jails and that we would find each other, me stronger in my anti-communist beliefs,
himself cured of communism?”. Wurmbrand is speaking about this „cure of
communism”, an almost medical effort to heal and vaccinate the people they
meet, people infected by this ideological disease. „Why?” is the question of
Steinhardt, „Because madness is contagious and because every totalitarian
regime is also mad” (p. 388).
Courage and
Happiness: Wurmbrand and Steinhardt are proofs that any dictatorship is afraid of
free men. And why was the Communist regime afraid of these men? One of the
motives comes from the reason Wurmbrand was arrested. In a sermon he said that
„Christians must keep hope, because of the wheel of history turns, and the
wheel of life. ”You meant us, that communism will change, that communism will
fall. Never will it fall.” It has been reproached to me that in a sermon I have
said Christians must practice patience, patience, and again patience. ”Ah, you
meant that the Americans will come and we must be patient until they come.”
Steinhardt, in turn, refused
to be a witness in the law-suite opened by the communist state against the “lot
of mystical-legionary intellectuals”, (legionaries were adherents to extreme
nationalism and strongly anti-Semitic), and was convicted to 13 years of hard
labor in prison, under charges of “crime of plotting against the social order”.
Wurmbrand recounts how, at the ”Congress of Cults” held by the Communist
government in the early 1945, he had asked for confrontation with the regime
partyliners. Religious leaders stepped forward to swear loyalty to the new regime.
Sabrina asked Richard to ”wipe the shame from the face of Jesus.” Richard
replied that if he stepped forward, she would no longer have a husband. ”I
don’t need a coward for a husband,” she answered. And so Richard stepped
forward and told the 4,000 delegates that their duty as Christians was to
glorify God and Christ alone.
Richard Wurmbrand testified in
May 1966 before the American Senate’s internal security sub-committee
(testimony available at http://members.cox.net/wurmbrand/communist.html,
September 2008). In his speech before the subcommittee, Wurmbrand said that the
agents of the communist regime threatened him: ”Dollars have been received for
you. You will have to leave the country, but perhaps we will let some time
pass, because your remembrances of prison are too fresh and you have too good a
pen.” This was what communists feared most: the exposure of their atrocities by
the victims of repression among the intellectuals. This living testimony was
given by Wurmbrand who stripped his clothes before the American senators in the
committee and showed his torture marks. His books stand out as a shattering
testimonial of the atrocities of the communist regime. Here is what Steinhardt
calls the Churchill/Bukovsky solution against the totalitarian regimes. He recounts
what Vladimir Bukovsky described, that when he was summoned by the KGB he was
anxious, not because he was afraid, but because he desired to „be in front of
them, to tell them everything I believed about them, and bulldoze them like a
tank. I could not imagine a greater happiness” (The Diary…, Introduction).
For Steinhardt (The Diary…, p
104) the courage feeds on Biblical reference, on personal life experiences and
on literary and cultural examples. He quotes equally from Descartes as from
Saint Paul, giving examples of kings and of historical facts. For him, it is
the lack of courage of the people that brings dictatorships into being. And the
differences between Communism and Christianity lie not only in the way they
treat individuals. The fundamental opposition between Communism and
Christianity resides in the conflicting values. „The Communists believed the
source of happiness to be material satisfaction; as for myself, alone in my
cell, stinking, starved and dressed in rags, I was dancing of joy every night”
(In God’s…, p. 56). This sense of elevated happiness is portrayed by Steinhardt
in The Diary of Happiness, which offers an exemplary account of all conceivable
torments of Communist detention. „I personally see Christianity as a lysergic
hyper acid and a more „powerful” version of books like The Art of Being Happy
or How to Succeed by Dale Carnegie…” Happiness is not „only for certain places,
at the holy mountain. It’s everywhere. It is a universal recipe” (The Diary…,
p. 171).
To echo Wurmbrand again: „I
was in solitary confinement the first 2, nearly 3 years. … For years I never
saw the sun, the moon, nor any flowers, the snow, or the stars, no man except
the interrogator who was there to inflict pain; and yet I can say I was able to
see heaven open up, I saw Jesus Christ, I saw the angels, and was very happy
there.” He goes on to say, „I am sorry I would have liked to paint the
beautiful shining faces of Christians in Communist jail. Their faces glowed,
and it was quite an achievement for the glory of God to shine on the face of a
Christian in Communist jails. We did not wash (I had not washed in three
years), but the glory of God can shine even from behind a crust of dirt. They
had triumphant smiles on their faces. I know about Christians who were released
from Communist prisons. I was one who was stopped several times on the street
by passersby asking, ”Sir, what is it with you? You look like such a happy man.
What is the source of your happiness’?” I told them that I had served many
years in Communist jails.”
(http://www.ceruldinnoi.ro/pages/Richard%20Wurmbrand.htm, available October
2008).
On a concluding note, in both
Wurmbrand’s and Steinhardt’s legacy there is above all a strong belief in
humanity, fully evidenced, starting with the many examples of the „good warden”
that both authors provide from their prison experiences, to their constant
effort to practice Christian love, or as Steinhardt says: „love the supreme
Christian virtue, the only perennial virtue – is the undeniable means by which
we can prove our humanity and Christianity” (Giving is Receiving, p. 67).
References: Sorin Alexandrescu, Paradoxul român, Ed.
Univers, Bucureşti, 1998.
Randolph Braham, The Tragedy
of Romanian Jewry, Columbia University Press, New York, 1994.
The Final Report of the
International Commission on the Holocaust in Romania, November 2004, http://yad vashem.org.il/about_yad/what_new/data_
whats_new/report1.html
Radu Ioanid, The Holocaust in
Romania: The Destruction of Jews and Gypsies under the Antonescu Regime:
1940-1945, Ivan R. Dee, Chicago, 2000
Nicolae Steinhardt, Jurnalul
fericirii, Dacia, Cluj, 1991
Nicolae Steinhardt, Ispita
lecturii, îngrijit de Pr. Ioan Pintea, Dacia, Cluj, 2000.