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Molnár's starting point is Samuel Huntington's hypothesis that Western values are not of a universal nature. #1 They appeared in a given, West-European, Roman Catholic and Protestant zone, within which a specific cultural tradition has developed. The modernization of the rest of the world, namely of zones in which other types of civilization have taken place, be they Orthodox, Islamic or Japanese, may be possible, but Westernization is not. Elements such as the political culture of the West, individualism, or a work ethic that is specifically Catholic or Protestant, cannot be truly achieved within the limits of another civilization.

Huntington charts the limits of Western civilization in this sense. His border in Eastern Europe runs to the east of Finland and the Baltic states and it dissects White Russia, the Ukraine and Romania. Transylvania and the Banat are as much within Western civilization as the Voivodina and Croatia, but extra-Carpathian Romania remains outside, together with the Balkans and the rest of the Orthodox world. Thus, in Huntington's opinion, the ancient confines of the Holy Roman Empire and of the Habsburg domains, taken together with the limits of Roman Catholic and Protestant expansion in Eastern Europe, stabilize a limit for the eastern extension of the EU, furnishing a relevant criterion for the admission of new members.

Huntington's provocative theory prompted lively criticism #2 in many parts of the world, on the grounds that it is speculative and provides prophecies in the outmoded manner of a Spengler or Toynbee. In Romania it was criticized not only by competent commentators-thus, most unusually, the preface of the Romanian edition contained a pertinent critique of the book-it #3was also politically exploited. In the 1996 electoral campaign PDSR, the party led by the then President Iliescu, used Huntington's map to demonstrate the way the "external enemies" of Romania proposed to dismember the country in connivance with the Democratic Convention.

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Romanian public opinion in the broadest sense of the term react to terms like "federalism" or "autonomy", not to mention the less familiar "devolution" #4 with a knee-jerk rejection. The use of these words compromises whatever is intended. The collective emotions they stir up allow them to be used as instruments of diversion and demagogy. Some time ago Virgil Nemoianu remarked with heavy irony, that as the citizen of a respected and prosperous federal state (the U.S.) he feels offended when that form of government is looked on as something shameful in Romania. #5

In such conditions autonomy, and even less so federalism, is favourably discussed only in Hungarian minority publications and by certain theoreticians #6 who do not even address the political elite, let alone the general public. Besides, the Constitution of Romania stresses not only the national but also the unitary character of the country, thus excluding any federal hypothesis. The circumstance that Romanians have for decades now been accustomed to take pride in the unitary nature of their state, not being able to conceive of another form of organization for their country, is thus blessed by the law and the constitution.

Given that "federalism" or the "autonomy of Transylvania" are here discussed by a Hungarian who, what is more, claims that he is mindful of what is good for Romania or the country's European integration, discussing such notions appears to most to be futile and ridiculous, if not downright suspect. A great many Romanians, regardless of whether, in 1996, they voted for nationalist parties or for those of the left, or for those of the centre or centre-right, "know" full well that "the Hungarians want Transylvania" in the depths of their sinful hearts, and that the tale of its federalization is sewn with a scandalously visible thread. For extreme nationalists it perhaps serves as an occasion for the "unmasking" of an otherwise well-known danger, a violent negation whose function is to permanently alert the vigilance of the nation and to celebrate daily the festivities of confrontation. For moderate nationalists, the majority today, it is a matter that barely deserves attention, a matter that is regrettable, since it brings grist to the mill of the extremists.

This diagram of attitudes totally blocks communication, since a stereotype serves as the starting point. Such a range of expectations offers no scope to dialogue or rational criticism.

As a consequence, the articulation of a position on this question, in terms of a reasonable perspective, suffers much owing to a context unfavourable to its reception, especially if the purpose of the action is an effective public message and not a mere display of a personal conviction.

On the one hand, bearing in mind my own commonplace prejudices, that is that the Western integration of Romania is both possible and desirable, and that decentralization and autonomy are essential aspects of this process, I could subscribe to Gusztáv Molnár's view without further comment. If such decentralization also presupposed the autonomy of Transylvania much like Sicily's or Catalonia's, or even Scotland's or Bavaria's, as far as I am concerned, there is no problem. Well and good!

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Let us consider then the nature of Transylvania #7 and in what measure she differs in her spirit and civilization from the rest of Romania. This will help us to establish whether these differences are of a nature that could provide a basis for political autonomy.

It is beyond any possible doubt that, as regards history or chronology, "Transylvania" antedates "Romania". Transylvania has unambiguously been a politico-administrative reality since the 16th century at the very least. Romania as an idea appears in the thinking of Romantics, Romanian and foreign, in the early nineteenth, and as a state Romania was constituted after 1859. All this should be obvious to any historian, yet it has not been perceived as such in the way Romanians think about history. Romanian historiography, in projecting present wishes or realities back into the past, has constructed an imaginary Romania which descends deep into the well of time, whose traces are met with at every step, from the "unified state" of Burebista, which imposes itself along the ideal borders of 1918, to the unification carried out by Prince Michael the Brave. But there is more to it than that, the whole of Romanian history is imbued in this sense, it is profoundly teleologic, progressing as if according to law towards the union of all the Romanian territories as fulfilled at Alba Julia (Gyulafehérvár). All prior efforts of Romanians served that purpose, inscribed in the book of fate of all generations, everything that they achieved in their culture was subordinated to this ideal. #8

In the light of such an evolution, in virtue of the fact that Romania really always existed as a project, inscribed from the beginnings of time in the geography of the territories which she occupies today, the priority of Transylvania is, on the level of Romanian historical thinking, simply pulverized. The actual formula which Romanian historians, starting with Iorga, have used to deal with this problem is that of "Romanian lands". That can be stuck onto any reality, be it political, ethnographic, cultural or even geographical, in the given space, right from the moment of ethnogenesis. Transylvania herself is considered par exelsis a "Romanian land," from right back in the Dark Ages, when there were no written sources, from the time of princes with curious names like Gelu, #9 Glad or Menumorut, all the more so later, as we approach 1918, at a time when she was administratively part of the Kingdom of Hungary, or an autonomous state under Calvinist princes, pre-eminently Hungarian in law and institutions, institutions from which Romanians were almost completely excluded.

The annulment, on the level of symbolic Romanian geography, of the real priority of Transylvania is only one of many eloquent examples of the way in which "Transylvania" is related to "Romania" in Romanian culture. Transylvania is always presented as an integral component part of Romania, not just from the point of view of the present politico-administrative reality but also from those of historical belonging and the essence of civilization. Considering Transylvania as an autonomous element apart, within the framework of Romanian civilization, is hindered by the fact that Romanians define her not as any old place, but as the kernel of what is specifically Romanian, as the essence and heart of what it means to be Romanian.

This special quality is manifest in a variety of concrete historical hypostases. Transylvania is the fatherland of King Decebal and at the same time the cradle of Romanian Latinity, thus the privileged space of ethnogenesis and of the sources. Later, this becomes the zone where Latinity is rediscovered by the Transylvanian School, thereby constructing the modern model of Romanian identity which then crosses the Carpathians, still in the care of Transylvanians. Later Transylvania becomes the ideal space of the national struggle, presenting to all Romanians a model of resistance confronting denationalization and of the emancipation movement. In general, Transylvania has the role of a symbolic cistern which continuously nourishes, like a heart, replenishing the energies of the Romanian nation, as she did through Prince Dragosh and the Black Prince, through Gheorge Lazar, the educator, or Badea Cârtan, thanks to the ethnic infusion which-according to Romanian historians-Transylvanians have always provided for the somewhat feeble regions on the other side of the Carpathians.

Naturally we are able to assert today that all these manifestations of the myth of unity reflect, or rather construe, historical reality only in an extremely deformed way. But this does not alter the fact that public opinion views tradition through such simplifying spectacles, and that this is the historical reality for Romanians, despite the fact that it is obsolete. There are, no doubt, many Romanian historians today who, imbued by a critical spirit, offer alternatives to the embarrassingly vulgar traditional historiography. Quantitatively the latter is still dominant, and it is likely that those who profess the traditional version will be able to change their ways. For that reason a dialogue with them does not make much sense. It is only oblivion which will reduce them to silence, turning them into objects for analysis in the museums of the future.

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In the course of the 19th century the idea of an autonomous Transylvania, jointly possessed by Hungarians, Saxons and Romanians, just about vanished. This change in the direction of development was initiated by the Hungarians, due to their ideological and cultural advances when compared with Romanians. In the 17th century, the autonomous principality of Transylvania was a symbol of persistent Hungarian statehood, in the eighteenth, Transylvanian particularism was a way in which the Hungarian nobility resisted Habsburg centralization, but with the birth of romantic nationalism the idea of the union of Transylvania and the Kingdom of Hungary conquered all Hungarian hearts. In 1865, the last Transylvanian Diet, meeting at Kolozsvár (Cluj/Klausenburg), abrogated the autonomy of the province and decided for union with Hungary.

The Romanians, on their part, somewhat more slowly, ran the same course towards an annulment of the particularism of the province. It is true that for some considerable time they continued to support the autonomy of Transylvania, officially up to 1905, since this was the only imaginable formula in that context, and their attachment towards the Habsburg Empire as such was, in fact, wiped out only by the First World War. But already in 1848, they specially insisted on a separatist form of organization, on a communal ethnic basis, becoming increasingly interested in their national rather than in Transylvanian autonomy.

Hungarians and Romanians thus similarly acted in favour of a homogenization of Transylvania, be it in relation to Hungary, after 1867, or to Romania, after 1918. Their supreme desire was to unify all members of the national community in a single unit, initially of a cultural and symbolic nature, ultimately of a political character. What should be stressed is that both Hungarians and Romanians imagined a centralized, unified, national state not as a possible option, that could be discussed in terms of function and efficiency, but as a guarantee of survival in the midst of "alien tribes", surrounded by the terrors of real or imagined dangers. The autonomy of Transylvania was increasingly considered an unfortunate palliative, in the absence of something better, at a time when the balance of powers did not permit the direct expression of more impertinent longings. The Transylvanianism of part of the Hungarian elite between the wars had such a compensatory function, as did the autonomism of the Romanians in the Austro-Hungarian period.

Historians today, expected to express a judgment in relation to such developments, are faced with the usual problems met with when comparing different sets of values. From a present point of view we can say, if we wish, that the desire to annihilate the political autonomy of Transylvania was a regrettable error. Romanians may well complain that their identity was impoverished by the wiping out of real differences between the provinces, #10 Hungarians may complain that severe oppression by Hungarian governments in the Austro-Hungarian period provoked a reaction on the part of the national minorities, thus perpetuating national conflicts. #11

The question is, however, whether, in the context of the given period, other courses would have been possible. The answer must needs be negative. Things have happened as they have, one cannot start afresh and experiment with something better. To be sure, confining oneself to stating what is the case is not an excuse or justification for what ought to be condemned, to say that this is how it happened is no excuse for the way it happened; nor is it the historian's business to accuse, except in very general terms. What matters is that we explain the past, if that is what we are interested in, and that we understand that the sense that we make of it today is very different to the sense it had in its own time, so different that the past as properly understood cannot form the basis of any current conduct.

It must be said therefore that whatever more or less invented historical traditions of Transylvanian particularism may claim, the Romanian and Hungarian inhabitants have, since the beginning of the modern period, preferred a separate to a common political existence, and have preferred to be closer to Bucharest or to Budapest than to each other or to any illusory Transylvanian capital cities. If we presume today that this sort of political national exclusivity damages the Transylvanian political community, we nevertheless have to understand that it has its roots in a certain past. If what we want is a different future, that can only be based on transcending and putting aside this particular past. To do so will be extremely difficult, albeit it is worth hoping that it will not prove impossible.

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Federalization needs a powerful civil society, with clearly outlined communal interests, and a tradition and skill in the practical defence of these interests. But it is precisely this civil society which is lacking in Romania today, be it that it was too weak from the outset to resist pressure by the state, or that this pressure was too strong in the course of time. If decentralization is necessary for the proper functioning of civil society, decentralization cannot occur in the absence of a civil society, and we are caught in a highly disturbing vicious circle.

There is nothing to be federalized in Romania today. The only available constitutive elements are a centralized state which administers almost everything inefficiently, and a levelled society lacking the skills of cohabitation in a political community. Turning these elements into the fluid forms of illusionary self-government or of a number of historical traditions whose combination may generate just about anything, would be useless alchemy. At the present moment, existing administrative units, that is the counties, are the only possible basic units that can be considered in the process of decentralization. If these would at least cease to be simple transmission belts of the central administration, and local collectors of state taxes, if the greater part of the income collected stayed with the county, and local councils used these as they pleased to finance the police, schools and hospitals, it is possible that Transylvanians or Moldavians would in time learn what it means to live in a political community.

Until the centralized state withdraws from the economy through privatizing, from the life of local communities by decentralizing and from the minds of men through emancipating them from the tutelage of a state-centred collectivism, Romania will have no Transylvania that can be federalized, but will continue in her condition of general, integral and national misery. ß

• 1 Samuel P. Huntington: The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order. New York, 1996.
• 2 Horia-Roman Pataievici: Politice. Bucharest, 1996, pp. 235-236.
• 3 Iulia Motoc: Preface to the Romanian edition of Huntington op. cit. Bucharest, 1998.
• 4 Devolution = the transfer of some of the constitutional functions of a state to a regionally elected parliament.
• 5 Virgil Nemoianu: "Diagnostic roma×nesc: prezent, trecut, viitor." (Romanian Diagnosis: Present, Past, Future) In: Iordan Chimet (ed): Momentul adeva×rului. (The Moment of Truth.) Cluj/Kolozsvár 1996, pp. 144-145.
• 6 See the outstanding Daniel Barbu: S?apte teme de politica× roma×neasca×. (Seven Themes in Romanian Politics) Bucharest, 1997, pp. 124-127.
• 7 The expression "What is Transylvania" refers to the title of a historical pamphlet by Stefan Pascu, Ceausescu's "court" historian, published in 1984, in several languages (The Ed.).
• 8 For a historiographic analysis of the myth of unity see Lucian Boia Istoria s?i mit in cons?tiint?a roma×neasca× (History and Myth in the Romanian mind, pp. 145-176.
• 9 Gelu has become quite a popular Christian name thanks to a poem by Cos¸buc. It no longer bears the exotic overtones of the other two names.
• 10 Sorin Antohi: Exercit?iul distant?ei. Discursuri, societat?i, metode (The Exercise of Distance. Discourses, Societies, Methods) Bucharest, 1997. pp. 304-305.
• 11 Indeed, sometimes one wonders whether the identification and stressing of such errors, going back to 1848, on the part of Hungarian historians, is not an expression of an unconscious regret. In the absence of such "errors," given greater understanding of the just grievances of the national minorities, such historians implicitly argue, the national minorities might not have helped to break up Hungary. See e.g., Makkai, László: Magyar-román közös múlt (A Common Hungaro-Romanian Past) 2nd ed. Budapest, Héttorony Könyvkiadó, pp. 218-220).