Evaluating
The Gypsies, Real Estate, Stock Market & Culture Of Romania
Even though
I generally travel to about 20 different countries every year, I rarely
go to Europe. I see the continent as concrete-bound, tradition-ridden,
class-oriented, socialistic, constipated and generally lame. That's not
to say it isn't full of fine cafes, architecture and museums—but the place
itself has the ambience of a decrepit museum. It's like a Disneyland without
the order, friendliness, or cleanliness—and I'm no fan of Disneyland. With
it's ingrained welfare state, high taxes and immense bureaucracy, Europe
is on the slippery slope. In a couple of generations people in the Orient
will view it as a place to recruit houseboys and chambermaids—a quaint
petting zoo populated by backward peasants occupied mainly with whether
they'd rather elect a Red or a Green politician to reallocate their diminishing
wealth.
Still, I jumped
at a chance to visit Romania in May. I first went there in the winter of
1966-67 when two friends and I boarded the Orient Express in Geneva and
headed to Istanbul, with stops in Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria.
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It was nothing
like the Orient Express Sean Connery's James Bond experienced at about
the same time; we were in 3rd class, where the toilets didn't work and
a farmer might be seen guiding his sheep down the aisle. When we got off
the train in Bucharest we were greeted, although that's not exactly the
right word, by a group of middle aged men in black leather jackets, chanting
“Bayatlees,” and threateningly pointing at us.
We kept walking
and, fortunately, the Securitate found something more interesting to do.
After a while, we figured out the word was the way they pronounced “Beatles,”
probably since our hair reminded them of pictures they'd seen of the rock
group. Surprisingly, we had a pretty good time in a police state in the
dead of winter—probably because we didn't know any better.
Things were
much improved this time around, partly because it was spring, not winter;
partly because I now have some money; but mostly because it's no longer
a police state. But it's never taken a lot of money to live really well
in Romania. In one excellent restaurant in Timosoara nothing on the menu
cost more than $2 and our party of ten got out with a total bill of around
$60, including lots of wine.
Before WW2
Romania was supposed to have had the third-largest economy on the continent,
after Germany and France; a prosperous peasant society, exporting huge
amounts of wheat.
There's quite
a bit of evidence it was an OK place in those days, judging from the fine
old buildings and houses that fill not only Bucharest (which used to be
known as the Paris of eastern Europe) but the countryside, which is very
reminiscent of Germany or Switzerland in a time warp. Or say like the US
in the 20's, but with 50's technology.
The country
is off the beaten path—one reason why it's cheap and presents real opportunity.
And we're not talking about exotica like central Asia or Africa. The opportunity
in this place is comparable, in my opinion, to that in Spain after Franco,
or Portugal after its African colonies devolved and it had a revolution
(both circa 1975). But, like most of eastern Europe, it has its off-putting
aspects, like the superstitions about Transylvania and Dracula. And a culture
which, for all its favorable aspects, has managed to coin aphorisms like
“Your future is black—and it's small,” and "Lick the hand you cannot bite.”
Another off-putting
thing is that the American FBI will be opening an office in Bucharest this
year. Among the many questions this brings up (e.g., What business do they
have here?
Are they watching
Romanians, or Americans?) is: Why are they even allowed in the country?
I don't think it would go over well with Americans to know the national
police force of Romania, or anywhere else, were operating in the US. And
I'm not sure it generates warm feelings, although the Romanians are used
to this kind of thing, what with the Ottomans, then the Germans, then the
Russians. The FBI is almost everywhere around the world now, I find.
The "big thing"
in Romania's future from an economic/investment perspective is its prospective
entrance into the EC, probably in the 2005-7 area. The advantages to this
are significant, at least the way the world is currently structured; it's
bound to mean vastly more investment, tourism, prosperity and general respect
for the country. One real advantage of joining the EC is that it will enforce
a reduction the rate the government is debasing the currency.
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Inflation
is running about 30%, down from over 100% in the last few years. Integration
into the EC is a good reason to position yourself now, or over the next
couple of years, if you like the idea of being here. Romania is also applying
for membership in NATO, a move that impresses me as costly and dangerous;
maybe it's just a stage they're going through.
Of course if
Romania really wanted to do itself a favor it would drop its 19% VAT (a
level pretty typical of Europe today), abolish its 45% individual and 25-38%
corporate income taxes, totally deregulate its economy, fire 90% of its
remaining State employees, use gold as the national currency, etc., etc.,
and watch the economy boom. But that's not the world we live in. Indeed,
since the country has a normal distribution of losers, morons, socialists
and sociopaths, there is predictable grousing, even today, about
how things were better under Ceausescu. But, as they say, Welcome to Planet
Earth.
It's impossible
to say everything that might be worth saying about an ancient land like
this. I feel constrained, therefore, to offer just a couple of ideosynchratic
anecdotes to give you its flavor. What comes to mind are the two things
(other than Dracula) most closely associated with Romania: Ceausescu, and
Gypsies.
Ceausescu
It would be
fascinating to read a book about Communist dictators of the 20th century.
With the possible exception of recent African dictators, it's hard to imagine
a more venal, arrogant, thuggish, stupid, corrupt and grotesque array of
sociopaths in all of world history. Nicolae Ceausescu would be among the
most colorful. I recall reading an article about him in Slime-- no, strike
that-- Time magazine back in the late 60's lauding him for pursuing the
Romanian Path to Socialism, which was seen as a big advance on its Russian
variation.
Like most of
his colleagues, Ceausescu was a believer in monumental projects like building
oil refineries and steel mills with capacity several times the country's
ability to produce feed for them. Of course they're all just rusting junk
today. His crowning achievement was his palace in central Bucharest, which
is almost as large as the Pentagon, although stylistically reminiscent
of the Kennedy Center. The bizarre monstrosity made me, albeit momentarily,
feel a little homesick for Washington, D.C. The thing cost about $3 billion,
which may be peanuts by American standards, but equaled about $150 for
every man, woman and child at a time when it was about equal to their annual
income. That expenditure may have been the straw that broke the camel's
back, in that by the time of the revolution mid-December 1989 people had
no heat for their shabby apartments and had to stand in line for hours
to get some offal to stew. Romanians were especially unhappy because while
Ceasescu was building the palace for himself he was simultaneously bulldozing
hundreds of towns throughout the country, intending to put their residents
into multi-story slums, similar to those reserved for black urban dwellers
in the US.
So, regrettably,
it wasn't so much a quest for freedom that started the revolution as it
was desperation and anger. It got under way in Timosoara, some say when
a popular local priest was going to be exiled, others say when hungry workers
in the tractor factory broke in and found an extravagant banquet being
set up for the nomenklatura. News of the uprising leaked into Bucharest,
prompting Ceausescu to organize 100,000 people in front of his palace to
show support, but things got out of hand. Someone started chanting "Timisoara,”
and pretty soon the crowd, emboldened by each other, transformed themselves
from spineless worms into some higher order life form. Not quite real stand-up
humans though, because if they were they would have torn Ceausescu limb
from limb on the spot and then impaled each and every member of the Securitate
and other government agencies, displaying them along the city's main street
until the dogs and birds picked their bones. That oversight is not an indictment
of Romanians any more than of people in general. But it makes me think
we share more genes with the bovine species than we'd like to believe.
The story does
have a happy, if not ideal, ending though, in that a week later Ceausescu
and his wife were given a brief trial and were summarily executed. As far
as I know, the Romanians were the only citizens of a Communist land to
have treated their erstwhile ruler with something approaching the respect
he deserved. All the others, incredibly, have gotten off scot-free.
Interestingly,
even using the full force of his police state, Ceaucescu (like Hitler
before him) was unable to destroy the culture of the Gypsies.
