Intellectuals And Their Radical Political Involvement: Reflections And Subsequent Perceptions

In the last decades, particularly after the collapse of the communist regimes, ardent debates have taken place regarding the political commitment of certain great intellectuals and writers, generating even theoretical and philosophical reflections, concerning the relationship between the ethical, the political, and creativity. Because it just happened that I was interested in this relationship by studying certain stages from the history of ideas and Romanian modern culture, I first wondered whether it was possible to reach conclusions with a more general validity, and if it was possible, what is the extent to which they remain valid after a few generations have passed. First, I consider the protagonists of the intellectual generation of 1848, a romantic generation for which the involvement in public life, in the movements with a national and political character, represented a "holy quest". From their perspective, involvement was a patriotic duty and their non-implication would have been immoral. The writing is committed, their literary work is the expression of a supreme form of action, but direct, personal involvement in politics is mandatory and complementary to creation. What is the extent to which the "private biography" has significance in their posthumous evaluation? Let us stop for example at Ion Heliade Rădulescu, a fascinating character from the gallery of those who created the institutions of modern Romanian culture. Whoever might have examined the documents from that time – the private letters between himself and his friends and enemies –, and tries to sketch a moral portrait cannot miss noticing that, through his character traits and his political tribulations, Heliade Rădulescu is rather a controversial figure, an extremely conceited and megalomaniac man. But do all these influence our perception in the present? We might say that they don't. His annoying features, even blamable in the eyes of his contemporaries, become rather picturesque or even amusing to us, without damaging in the least our admiration for him. We can repeat the exercise, in order to reach the same conclusion about Caragiale – father and son alike – and also in the case of many others. This change of perspective and this kind of posthumous "moral amnesty" after a couple of generations can be detected in even more serious circumstances. What is the importance we grant, in the appreciation of Slavici or Tudor Arghezi's literary works, to the fact that both were condemned to prison, after the First World War, for high treason and fraternizing with the enemy, accusations which seem quite debatable nowadays. This incident is of secondary importance today and no student will probably learn it from any literature or history book. The effects of the passage of time are obvious, but it doesn't always explain changes in perspective. Sometimes it doesn't even function correctly. In Israel for example, after almost two thousand years, the dispute and the passions around the betrayal of the general Joseph Matityahu, later turned into historian Josephus Flavius, are no less tense today. The explanation resides (I assert by risking a general explanation) in the actual significance, or on the contrary, in the weakening or the disappearance of the significance for the future generations. Ardent controversies, the real intellectual (or even less intellectual) battles surrounding the public and political behavior of great intellectuals in the Nazi period or under the communist regime definitely have a significance, because they also imply dilemmas and essential choices for us, at an intellectual and moral level as well. What these two periods have in common is of course the involvement of great intellectuals in the unconditioned support of totalitarian regimes, an involvement preceded by the assumption, out of sincere conviction or out of opportunism, of an ideology which tries to justify from a philosophical and also moral standpoint, the extremist political engagement. Debates on the issue of moral responsibility of those intellectuals who had adhered to Nazi or fascist politics and ideology, began in Germany and Western Europe, immediately after the war (I would like to draw attention to Karl Jaspers' essay on the problem of guilt, Die Schuldfrage, 1946). These debates were often accompanied by trials and harsh sentences, in the spirit of the first years after the war. In Eastern Europe, just trials of war criminals interfered with show trials, manipulated according to a well developed strategy of perversion and mystification, and also the effort of quite a few intellectuals to enlist in the defense of the new regime. Everything had to be subordinated to the main objective: the consolidation of power and the destruction of the political and intellectual elite of democratic orientation. This entire difficult and entangled heritage came over us and the obvious question is: how can we handle it? How can we relate to their moral profiles, and what is the extent to which we can still consider them as cultural models – or even anti-models – for public behavior? In Romania, disputes, but also studies, have focused on the "younger generation" represented by Mircea Eliade, Emil Cioran and Constantin Noica. I have also tried to follow certain aspects from the perspective of the intellectual and political life of the time[1]; Zigu Ornea[2] did it brilliantly, then Marta Petreu[3], preceded by Norman Manea[4] and Matei Călinescu[5]. Then there followed Sorin Alexandrescu's study on Eliade[6] and Michael Finkenthal's about Cioran[7]. The myth of Nae Ionescu and current cult forms were tackled in a study by George Voicu[8]. A more recent book on Eliade, Cioran and Eugen Ionescu, written by Alexandra Laignel-Lavastine[9], caused bitter disputes. Without being given too much attention and without causing too much dispute, Iordan Chimet published on the same topic a few essays and remarkable anthologies[10]. A substantial study on the intellectual and political itinerary of Mircea Eliade was recently published in France and Romania, by historian Florin Ţurcanu[11]. There are also other substantial studies in Romania and in the West, but the examples are sufficient, I think, to justify an obvious evolution in the perception and study of this episode of the political and intellectual Romanian contemporary history. If we tried to offer a typology of the public perception, I would first notice a justice-dispensing measure, peremptory and irreducible, made up of two opposite kinds of discourses: one that rejects critical examination and denies what is obvious, being justified either ideologically or by reasons of inopportunity ("this is not the moment") or by patriotic arguments ("the image of Romania", defense against "the denigration of national values" and the "culpabilization of the Romanian people"). It boils down to playing the role of the advocate. The client must be defended at all costs and by any means. From an opposite standpoint comes the kindred accusing discourse of the "prosecutor", not very complicated by explanations, complexities or contexts. Guilt is absolute, and compromises the culprit forever. Moral judgment is atemporal and implacably generates stigmatization. Advocate or prosecutor: although both professions are honorable and necessary, they don't have too much in common with the history of ideas, nor with intellectual life and its dilemmas. Our agenda is entirely different, and each of us must face alone matters in a dispute, in an effort of understanding, explanation and interpretation, entering into a controversy or in a dialogue with other opinions. We can discuss whether it is possible to reach some generally accepted principles of interpretation. It is essential to make allowance for a common will for clarification, knowledge and understanding. The exchange of letters between Gershom Scholem and Mircea Eliade, regarding their political options and Eliade's antisemitic outbursts, during the 1930's as well as during the war, is well-known. The reasons of Scholem's appeal to Eliade are significant to our discussion: not so as to open an accusation file, but in order to solve, to clarify the very delicate matter: "If there is anything to be said on this score, let it be said, and the atmosphere of general or specific accusations be cleared up,"[12] writes Scholem. That is what this is fundamentally all about. By means of a significant coincidence, I think, the formula becomes almost identical in one of Andrei Pleşu's recent statements regarding the files from the communist Securitate (secret service) archive: "The stake would normally be the clarification of such an atmosphere. We breathe in a toxic atmosphere. And one of the toxins is our unsettled past."[13] In Jaspers' essay mentioned above, the painful exploration of the recently ended nightmare is justified not by justice-seeking intentions – that is not the philosopher's mission – but, as he says it himself, "in order to participate along with the rest of the people to our common effort towards truth" ("prendre part avec les autres hommes à notre effort commun pour la vérité")[14]. Scholem's friendly appeal for the clarification of the past has yet remained unanswered properly. Mircea Eliade remained devoted to a camouflage strategy, which still has negative consequences on our posthumous acceptance of his intellectual heritage. Different camouflage strategies were also assumed by other great European intellectuals engaged in extremist political movements, who subsequently became "real cases", like: Paul de Man, Heidegger, Jung, who nourished, through their silence or mystification, furious debates which were more than once "intoxicated" by exclusivist approaches. In what situation are we entitled to bring into discussion the issue of guilt or of moral responsibility (or irresponsibility) of these intellectuals engaged in the ideological and practical support of movements and ideologies that promoted the cult of force, collectivism, and an anti-intellectual attitude? I have been very interested in the reflections on the relationship in discussion, coming from intellectuals who had lived the Nazi or the communist experience or, in certain cases, both of them, directly, and then assumed responsibility for its blunt evaluation, including the evaluation of the intellectuals' engagement. If we employ the terms used by the Hungarian philosopher István Bibó, in The Distress of the East European Small States, we can name among the "hysterical" dominant political myths in Central and East Europe a variant of the myth of the savior accompanied by the cult of force, the option for collectivist ideologies and the abandonment of democratic values and of the freedom of thought. These are profoundly anti-intellectual values and attitudes. This is, according to Bibó, the effect of an anti-democratic nationalism predominant in the political culture of Central and East Europe, and of the inexistence of a connection between the aspirations of the national community and the freedom and rights of the individual. Bibó is, thus, exemplary for the consistency of his thinking and for his democratic, public engagement. Arrested and handed over to the Gestapo in 1944, for having helped saving some Jews from being deported, Bibó would again be imprisoned in 1958, and condemned to a life sentence, as a very short-term minister in Imre Nagy's government, and then released following the 1963 amnesty. István Bibó is also the first prestigious intellectual from Central and East Europe who, immediately after the war, considered necessary a profound and blunt examination of the "Jewish problem", from the perspective of the Nazi "final solution". His essay from 1948 "The Jewish problem in Hungary" begins with the chapter "Our responsibility towards what has happened"[15]. During his years of dissidence and imprisonment in communist Poland – to offer another example – Adam Michnik's intellectual role model is Thomas Mann, a "Don Quixote in the Nazi universe", the one who refuses out of sheer disgust the tribal discipline in the name of a nationalist doctrine. The testimonies and the meditations of the intellectuals regarding both periods have become numerous in the last few years, and I would like to remind, besides various studies and memoirs, substantial texts published in the Romanian edition of the "Lettre Internationale" magazine. We should notice the frequent focus of the discussion about radical political engagement on the antisemitic component of the assumed ideology. For the present generations, antisemitism has become, after the Nazi experience, a test, an essential criterion for appreciating the gravity of a political engagement, in a direction that turned out to be fateful. Antisemitism acquired this role because it ultimately materialized in the most aberrant forms of discrimination and genocide. Going back to the 1930s Romania, I would like to bring into discussion another matter: what were the alternatives and the models for the younger generation regarding political options? Why does the extremist option become attractive even in intellectual environments? The Nazi ascension and the radicalization of the European political scene were obviously favorable to those who "enlisted" out of enthusiasm or opportunism. In this category we can also include the Marxists represented by Lucreţiu Pătrăşcanu or Belu Zilber, from the same generation. I would also like to add another element that, to a certain degree, pertains to psychological reasons: let us call it the "the spirit of the time". As a matter of fact, the formula often reoccurs in the writings of the decade. An apocalyptic "presentiment" is present in the epoch, as the imminence of changes that are about to shake the world. What was happening in Europe contributed to the spreading of that state of mind amongst young intellectuals, as well as others, nourishing the illusion of a perfect synchronization with other radical movements that had succeeded in such a spectacular way – the model of fascist Italy, the Nazi model, and for some, the Soviet model –, as well as the illusion that the Iron Guard would follow the same triumphant path. From the same perspective, there occurs a re-consideration of the intellectual behavioral strategy in the direction of an enthusiastic conformism that eventually leads to the abandonment of Romanian models, and to the reorientation towards the new Italian, German or Soviet model: the intellectual engaged in an authoritarian political movement, accepting with arduous humility the primacy of facts, the political authority of a "Savior" invested with the aura of providence. Those who become exemplary for having understood the "spirit of the time" are now Alfred Rosenberg, Carl Schmitt, or Julius Evola – the last one even comes to Bucharest to meet Corneliu Zelea Codreanu.The temptation for dictatorial projects, besides psychological and philosophical reasons, was obviously increased by the attraction towards rapid and radical settlement of the relation with minorities, with a special stress on "the Jewish question". In the antisemitic outbreak, Eugen Ionescu detected with precision a first symptom of "rhinocerization". Intellectuals who were targeted belonged, as we already know, to the "young generation", which justifies the question: what is the significance of their relationship with politics? This also lets us notice a paradox: the generation that programmatically wanted to become the first one to be delivered from the priority of political engagement and of national ideals, and demanded so many times, through Mircea Eliade, "the primacy of the spiritual" and of cultural creation, is, after one decade, directly involved in politics, and it reformulates its position in order to ideologically justify the primacy of the political, and their own political engagement.We all know that the decade that we refer to is marked by the powerful politicizing of intellectual life, and more than that: by the radicalization of political attitudes, by a withdrawal from the center and from the "middle way", from moderate, progressive programs, in favor of the idea of revolution – be it spiritual, mystical, conservatory, or in the direction of Soviet Marxism – both being ultimately reduced to the idea of political overthrow, that would eventually accomplish revolutionary programs. Was this evolution truly inevitable? Or, differently said: was it "inscribed" in their thought or was it only a matter of circumstance, a "lapse"? More precisely: by supporting a certain philosophy and a certain vision regarding the paths towards evolution of Romanian society, a certain idea of "Romanian spirit", how did they relate to the existing models in Romanian culture, and what was their strategy concerning their political behavior?It was especially Mircea Eliade who theorized a lot on this topic, in order to join, together with his generation, a series of predecessors, or on the contrary, in order to define his standpoint through opposition towards a certain model. The most often evoked ascending line is: B. P. Hasdeu, M. Eminescu, V. Pârvan. The first two in particular represent cultural models for Eliade, as well as models of political thought oriented towards a Romanian spirit expressed through local values, and attachment to folk tradition. At the same time, they represent the effort of a great cultural construction of universal scope. From the generation of 1848 revolutionaries, N. Bălcescu is sometimes remembered, but only for the ardor of his national Messianism. The 1848 model, in its social and universal aspect, is at the same time an anti-model: "A single great danger stalks us in this order of spiritual realities: paşoptism [i.e. the spirit of the 1848 revolution]. Paşoptism means, first of all, a European monkey-like imitation".[16] Anti-models are also Titu Maiorescu and of course I. L. Caragiale. They represent the intellectual who, in comparison to society, exercises first of all his critical spirit, lucid examination, skepticism and irony, and a rationalist philosophy, unprecedented, as Eliade would have wanted, by a national project that would cause the long awaited radical change, the enlisting of Romania in a great historical destiny. Coming back to the preferred model, Hasdeu-Iorga, it is worth noticing that Eliade actually took into consideration the young Iorga, the initiator of the student political movements of 1906 for the defense of the Romanian language, not Iorga after 1922, the one attached to an organic national evolution, the one who disapproves of numerus clausus and violence as political weapon. Eliade's generation moves away from this latter Iorga, at first implicitly and then openly, in favor of a more radical option. Moreover, we can notice that even the declared models – Hasdeu, Eminescu, Pârvan, the young N. Iorga – are, especially in the stage of the maximum political engagement, remodeled in order to correspond and legitimatize the options of the 1936-1937 moment. From the perspective of our topic – the relationship to politics – I estimate that, at that moment, with the identification of his national political program with that of the Iron Guard, Eliade abandoned the Hasdeu-Eminescu-Iorga model in favor of another one – we might call it the Nae Ionescu model – of unconditioned subordination to a totalitarian and anti-intellectual political movement. It was a fateful mutation, not only because of the political failure of the Guard, but also because it contradicted his own intellectual strategy in relation to the political and the intellectual model, ahead of his time and completely dedicated to his mission as a spiritual guide.If we carefully read Eliade's articles from 1936-1937, we can notice the fact that he was aware of having made a step that contradicted his intellectual creed, and of having left the path of the great national models. Besides the example of Nae Ionescu, he is seeking legitimacy in the behavior of the foreign intellectuals that served as his model. One of them, with doubtless influence, is Papini. The publication of the History of Italian Literature becomes an occasion, in the autumn of 1937, for evoking him to justify his reorientation: "A Christian and an artist who loves first of all the 'city', which makes civilized life possible as well as the existence of man as such (outside the 'city' man is a 'beast'), is obliged to fight for defending his 'city', even if this fight temporarily contradicts his non-violent beliefs. Anyway, Papini's adherence to the contemporary Italian phenomenon is complete. The History of Italian Literature is, as a matter of fact, dedicated to Benito Mussolini[17]."Unlike Eliade, Cioran doesn't search for autochthonous models in order to enter his name within their ranks, because he contests tradition, just as he contests the mentality of the Romanian political and intellectual elite, considered guilty of the catastrophic deadlock of our country and our shipwreck upon a lesser destiny. That is why for the planned "transfiguration of Romania" through a mystical revolution of a purifying violence, his imaginary model is rather a Romanian version of a prophet, or a heretic preacher of Nietzschean origin, but who, without being constrained by autochthonous tradition, can deviate in a Hitlerian projection. For such a radical and violently explosive project, with liberating and miraculous features, Cioran couldn't find a Romanian precedent, and his position oscillates between a Savior, eventually identified with Codreanu, at the level of transfiguration, and Hitler, at the level of the political revolution. In the spirit of the tradition of Romanian Romanticism, prophetism and Messianism are constant values of the national ideology formulated by Eliade. Even as an adolescent he was fascinated by the position of the prophet-scholar, who later became, with Iorga, "apostle of the people". Nevertheless, even with all the similarities, the difference between the prophetism and the Messianism of 1848 and that of the 1927 generation is more than obvious. We can also notice a shift towards a greater weight of the mystical experience of the mystical revolution, as well as a more visible religious dimension of utopian national projects and of the "Romanian destiny", the creation of "new man" and of the new elite about to accomplish the moral and religious regeneration of the people. There is still another difference between the two forms of Messianism, the one of 1848 and the one of the 1927 generation, directly linked to the relationship between the intellectuals and politics, which actually becomes a rift with respect to the model of the previous century, alongside with the identification of their project with the legionary program. The 1848 intellectuals were, as G. Călinescu called them, "positive messianics", as their exulted romanticism went hand in hand with an extraordinary constructive will. Being left behind the Western world was overwhelming and discouraging. "Everything is to be done" as Heliade Rădulescu used o affirm. They are the ones who constructed, we might say, the main institutions of modern Romania, as well as the instruments of its culture – by imitating, compiling, and also by proving a remarkable creative spirit. The leaders of the generation between the two world wars displayed great renewing enthusiasm, but at a political level they adhered to the negative Messianism of the legionary ideology, especially defined by the programmatic will to destroy, eliminate and "punish". Everything had to be "put to fire and sword", everything was "rottenness" which had to be burnt "down to the root", the "enemies" (the Jews, of course) had to be "destroyed", but not before "the punishment of the traitors", another obsessive formula that aimed at all the "sold-out" Romanian politicians, who opposed the Movement. The only "constructive" ideal was just another high-flown mystical formula: a Romania "as bright as the holy sun in the sky".As for Eliade, in that period he had two kinds of discourse indented to be complementary, but which were obviously in contradiction with one another: one of them continued his favorite theme, of a cultural and spiritual constructive Messianism, while the other, opposite to the first, took over the "punishing" clichés of the legionary language. He attributed to the Legionary Movement his cultural Messianic message, not seeing, or making an effort not to see, the fact that his message was in fact cancelled by his adherence to a movement that presupposed total subordination of the individual to the absolute priorities of the community and to the primacy of the political.A tragic case, particularly significant to the relation between intellectuals and politics, was Panait Istrati, who openly chose a social and political anti-fascist radicalism, identified then with a pro-Soviet attitude. By discovering the oppressive and structurally anti-democratic nature of the Stalinist regime, he chose the path of "dissidence". Driven by a terrible European campaign against him, he chose again in favor of a radical rightwing movement ("The Crusade of Romanianness"), in which he appears as a dissident as well. Panait Istrati's case is significant for the "moral" of the relationship under discussion, especially because the political scene is not only Romanian, but European as well. His consistency with himself brings him into conflict with political orientations that demand unconditioned support, complicity and abandonment of the freedom of thought, the right to doubt, and critical examination.What were the effects of assuming a radical ideology and political enrolment on his literary work? It is difficult to believe that we can draw a general conclusion. The examples that illustrate a positive response – and yes, they do influence – are numerous. But there are as many examples in which the relationship is too little significant and detectible. An enormous space of individual evolution lies between the two types of responses, leaving enough room for interpretation and reinterpretation. There is a level of ideas, of the public, intellectual, political behavior, and a level of creation. In many cases there is a relationship of interdependency between these, but we cannot mention but rarely a direct relationship, never a simple one, in the case of writers of such great complexity. The legionary youth fervor didn't elude the prose, or the theater of Mircea Eliade, just as many of Sadoveanu's pages, written after the war, were distorted and darkened by the "light coming from the East." We are entitled to discuss the creation of the intellectuals from this angle; we can discuss their ideas or their political opportunisms as exigently as we wish, without doubting their entire oeuvre or their intellectual effort. A critical judgment doesn't suggest verdicts, it doesn't "demolish" or "denigrate", and it doesn't "pin the blame on" the creator. We can discuss Eminescu's nationalism as much as we want, as well as his violent xenophobic and antisemitic clichés, and we can critically examine his political thought, without affecting in any way the image of his genius as a poet. He who cannot make this distinction abandons the lucidity of the intellectual in favor of idolatry and tribal spirit. We do not lose sight of the fact that in this century, the European political context and the success of radical ideologies encouraged this kind of evolution, but a moral judgment was and still is justified precisely by the existence of those intellectuals who didn't lose their head and remained faithful to individual values, resisting "rhinocerization". A lot was written about Eugen Ionescu or Mihail Sebastian, and with good reason. I would like to offer two other examples now. We all know the political choices of E. Lovinescu. In the 1970s, when the History of Romanian Modern Civilization was republished, in a severely censored version, I compared it, out of curiosity, to the original text of 1925. Here is only one of the removed paragraphs: "Epiphenomena of the unbalance caused by war, Bolshevism and Fascism are transient appearances; in the perspective of history they will appear as being insignificant deviations from the uniform rhythm of synchronic development of contemporary society." "…The spirit of our century," adds Lovinescu, "is expressed neither through proletarian dictatorship, nor though military dictatorship, but through the formula of bourgeois democracy[18]."I will conclude with another example, from beyond the Romanian political scene: Benjamin Fondane. In the mid 1930s, in an intellectual Paris just as politicized and radicalized, Fondane refused with an unusual and – then – harmful lucidity, any kind of subordination of the intellectual to a creed and to a collectivist political movement. In his essay L'écrivain devant la révolution, written for presentation in the international writers' congress of 1935, his irony is directed both at Heidegger's pro-Nazi affiliation and Malraux's – and so many others' – enthusiasm for the social message of Soviet literature:"Il me semble qu'il faille commencer par mettre tous nos problèmes au net; et pour cela exprimer en toute sincérité nos doutes, nos angoisses, notre impuissance même; cela demande du courage. Oh, beaucoup plus de courage que de se jeter dans l'action, les yeux fermés. Beaucoup plus de courage que d'accepter des formules toutes faites, qu'elles vienent de nos ennemis ou qu'elles viennent surtout de nos amis. La lutte que l'on a engagée n'est pas la lutte d'un moment. Elle est grosse d'événements futurs. C'est au moment de l'engagement qu'il faut peser le pour et le contre. Au moment de l'engagement qu'il faut savoir quelles sont les notions impliquées dans notre débat et dans quel sens nous entendons les réaliser. Partir les yeux fermés, c'est arriver les yeux férmés. "[19] For many decades, dominated by political involvement with "closed eyes", legitimized by nationalist, social or philosophical arguments, this consistency with the intellectual's mission remained unpopular, when not despised or condemned outright, and in any case misunderstood. Excerpted from Cultură politică şi politici culturale în România modernă (Political Culture and Cultural Politics in Modern Romania),edited by Alexandru Zub and Adrian Cioflâncă, "Al. Ioan Cuza" University Publishing House, Jassy, 2005 Leon Volovici (b. 1938), a Romanian-born Israeli literary critic and historian, and Head of Research at the Vidal Sassoon International Center for the Study of Antisemitism of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, is the author of Nationalist Ideology and Antisemitism: The Case of Romanian Intellectuals in the 1930's (Pergamon Press, 1991) and other books.
[1] Leon Volovici, Nationalist Ideology and Antisemitism: The Case of Romanian Intellectuals in the 1930s, Oxford, 1991; Romanian version: Ideologia naţionalistă şi "problema evreiască" în România anilor' 30, Bucharest, 1995. [2] Zigu Ornea, Anii treizeci. Extrema dreaptă românească (The 1930s. The Romanian Extreme Right), Bucharest, 1995.[3] Marta Petreu, Un trecut deocheat sau "Schimbarea la faţă a României", Cluj, 1999; An Infamous Past: E. M. Cioran and the Rise of Fascism in Romania, Chicago, 2005. [4] Norman Manea, On Clowns: the Dictator and the Artist, New York, 1992; Despre clovni: dictatorul si artistul, Cluj, 1997.[5] Matei Călinescu, Despre Ioan P. Culianu şi Mircea Eliade. Amintiri, lecturi, reflecţii (About Ioan P. Culianu and Mircea Eliade: memories, readings, reflections), Jassy, 2002.[6] Sorin Alexandrescu, Paradoxul român (The Romanian Paradox), Bucharest. 1998.[7] Michael Finkenthal and William Kluback, Ispitele lui Emil Cioran (The Temptations of Emil Cioran), Bucharest, 1999.[8] George Voicu, Mitul Nae Ionescu (The Nae Ionescu Myth), Bucharest, 2000.[9] Alexandra Laignel-Lavastine, Cioran, Eliade, Ionesco: l'oubli du fascisme, Paris, 2002; Romanian edition: Cioran, Eliade, Ionesco: uitarea fascismului. Trei intelectuali români în vâltoarea secolului, Bucharest, 2004.[10] Iordan Chimet, Dreptul la memorie (The Right to Memory), 4 volumes, Cluj, 1992-1993; Dosar Mihail Sebastian (The Mihail Sebastian File), Bucharest, 2001.[11] Florin Ţurcanu, Mircea Eliade: Le prisonnier de l'histoire, Paris, 2002; Romanian version: Mircea Eliade, prizonierul istoriei, Bucharest, 2003.[12] Gershom Scholem, Briefe, III, 1971-1982, Munich, 1998. [13] Andrei Pleşu, Criză în Colegiul CNSAS (Crisis in the CNSAS College), in 22 magazine, 5th of November 2002, p. 6.