Led by 200-year-olds

Most of Romanians, from analyst to the ordinary folk, if questioned on the political life in Romania, would answer without hesitation that things have taken a bad turn. One may indeed notice with no difficulty that very few countries are left in the civilised world where decisions are breached on a daily basis, where politicians carry on endless meetings failing to make any decision or have meetings for about a week and eventually make a decision they trespass the very next day, without any remorse, or at least a feeling of regret, for the time wasted in pointless discussions. As to Parliament, it is no longer news for anyone that it is not doing its job. Laws and ordinances, some of them even since the first days of Ciorbea government, are piled up on dusty shelves at various commissions, and if, by any chance, they get to enter Parliament’s plenum, several months have to pass before the fortunate moment comes when they meet the necessary quorum to be voted.

True, at the end of the day, hands were shaken, medals were given, conclusions were drawn – surely, enough achievements to laugh in the face of the malicious press for writing about skipping, cancelled votes and so on. But just look up in the Official Gazette a law whose voting has been negotiated time and again, and see that all the smiles and congratulations have been a faA§ade.

The image of a consumed, tired Parliament, with senators and deputies who catch an occasional drowse in their chairs, can be translated to the whole society. Parties leave their stasis only once in four years, when they struggle fiercely to name their candidates for president, city halls and so on. Public servants work only before and after pay day, bored of 28 days of strolling between offices. Workers occasionally whip up a strike, pull a deal with bearings, fool their bosses so they can get home earlier, anyway, they are making do.

In vain we are looking sweetly at the West and waiting for the planes loaded with dollar-packed Americans – after all, gone are the times of the 1990 enthusiasm, when European capitals were praising us and queuing to relieve us of the trauma of dictatorship.

All this sloth and smugness, slowly penetrating our bones, is, however, a signal that should get us thinking. First of all, the leaders of Romania’s main parties whose combined ages go far beyond 200. People of venerable age, some of them with long years of communist prison, who still have a hard time adapting to the realities of the 21st century. Ion Diaconescu, Mircea Ionescu-Quintus and, not least, Ion Iliescu, have played a major role in reviving the Romanian democracy and creating institutions approaching the European model we haven’t seen for the last 50 years.

But now, ten years later, Romanian politics need a fresh start. We need young people who understand and are able to keep up with the times. Glad and thankful to the destiny which gave them the unique opportunity of being around people who, by their sole presence, mean history, young people in parties have forgotten that their turn must come sooner or later, that leaders are needed from their time, to do the politics of the time they are living in.

Youth organisations in parties are a weak presence, and their viewpoints are often whispered, lest seniors’ ears are disturbed. PN?CD, for instance, has assorted structures that should belong to the young generation – from pupils to students – but their voice is not heard at the top. Major decisions are still made by the “elders,” behind doors that will remain closed to the young for the next 20 years. And the same is happening virtually everywhere. Indeed, the young do have some position in the party, so they can get to know the ropes. But to see how much they matter in Romanian politics, we only have to look for them among the MPs and candidates for a major party position. Everyone we’ll find can be counted on the fingers of one hand.