Romania – a Beautiful Land Inhabited by Special People

In early 20th century, King Charles I of Romania was forced by circumstance to intervene and send one of his favorite politicos of all time, to a medical consult all the way to Paris, France.

The politico, the man, the genuine article, ladies and gents, meet the 4 times Prime-Minister of Romania, Prince Dimitrie Alexandru Sturdza (1895-96, 1897-99, 1901-06, 1907-09).

Prince Sturdza was born in 1833 to an affluent Romanian family. Schooled at the best universities of Western Europe (Berlin, Munchen, Freiburg, and Bonn), this young fellow was destined for greatness from an early age. Armed with a trifecta of degrees in law, economics, and history, he returned to the Romanian Principalities, where he served the first native-born rules, Colonel Alexandru Ioan Cuza (1859-1866).

After an unfortunate spate with him, followed by internment in the seclusion of a monastic residence, the man returned to politics by backing the new Hohenzollern dynasty, personified by Ruler Charles I (1866-1881), then King Charles I of Romania (1881-1914).

A staunch Liberal, he took over the Party after the death of his founder, Ion C. Bratianu, in 1891.

It seems the man was driven to madness by a current of opposition led by E. Carada, who wanted the son of the founder of the Liberals, I. I. C. Bratianu, to take over the Party.

I say the man was already insane having earned three academic degrees, that required superhuman intellect powers, in a time when learning was as tough and merit-based as it will ever be.

But I digress. Perhaps it was the Carada-wing of the Liberal Party that ushered in a novel era in Romanian politics.

It seems that some time during the 1890s, Prime-Minister Sturdza started exhibiting unusual behavior: he started having crying fits, graduated to walking on all fours, and ended barking at his Cabinet, biting and pinching his Ministers’ legs.

Some contemporaries attributed this to work-related stress. I say Bollocks. You don’t get on all fours, start patrolling under the Cabinet’s table, copping a feel whenever you can… with your teeth.

King Charles I of Romania (1866-1914). Luckily for my native soil, this man was nothing but sound of mind and body. A Prussian soldier, he fought for the Vaterland in the 1864 Schleswig War with Denmark. He was vetted by both the King of Prussia and Napoleon III of France as the new ruler of Romania, at a time when war was looming over Europe. He took the train in Dusseldorf to the Swiss Confederation, for war was going to be declared between Austria and Prussia. There in Kanton Sankt Gallen, on 15 May 1866, he received a Swiss passport under the fake name of Carl Hettingen, that listed these features: “26 years old, shoes size 5, slim stature, black hair and eyebrows, gray eyes, pointed nose, normal size mouth, round chin, brown beard, oblong face and wears glasses“.
The soon to be Prince Carol of Romania, a.k.a Carl Hettingen of Sankt Gallen, travelled by train through Austria during the active mobilization of the armed forces, arriving in Turnu Severin on 20 May 1866. The Austro-Prussian War was declared on 14 June 1866. They really ought to make a period action movie about this feat. A Prussian subject of military age travelling through Austria during mobilization, in disguise, under false pretenses! Wow, what a story line, eh!
My grandfather used to swear by King Charles. To this day, I remember how proud he was of the Romanian Royal Family’s motto:
NIHIL SINE DEO – NOTHING WITHOUT GOD. In fact, I credit my grandfather’s devotion for the Royal Family for my unambiguous and unapologetic anti-Marxism. Silly thing, I am not even a Royalist. But I do believe in a Creator. And I positively detest Communism in all its hideous allotropic forms.

In 1908, even the King, his ally, had had enough. He pulled the now certifiable PM out of a travesty Council of Ministers session, put him on a train, and secretly shipped him to Paris.

After all, it wouldn’t do for foreign powers to know Romania was governed by a cuckoo.

The French head-specialists confirmed what the entire country had suspected for a decade: Prince Sturdza was insane in the main brain. The doctors postulated that he had been quite sick for more than 10 years.

Rumor has it that at this time, the docs wanted to know about the position of the patient.

Doctors: What does this man do for a living in Rumania?

PM’s entourage: He’s our Prime-Minister.

Doctors: Since when?

PM’s entourage: This time around, only two years, but all in all, he’s been PM for another 10 years.

Doctors: It appears he’s been sick for a decade now. Your country must be special, if it can afford to have and keep a certifiable PM in power for ten years straight!

Apocryphal dialogue between the French doctors who examined PM Sturdza and his entourage.

By October 1908, the diagnostic was made public. Soon after, Prince Sturdza was committed to a sanatorium for the insane abroad.

The following year, I. I. C. Bratianu took over the Liberal Party and the Prime Ministership.

As for the poor Prince Sturdza, he died in a sanatorium, in October 1914, two days before the old King Charles I of Romania breathed his last.

Fast forward to the present day.

Romania is once again a prosperous, vibrant, and energetic land, full of emerging opportunities.

There’s money to be made, everywhere you look, according to some. And despite the mounting evidence Romanians are better off now then they were a decade or two ago, life is still difficult… for some.

I say it’s difficult for some also because most people still believe in charlatans and nincompoops. And their sort, folks, is thriving in good ole Romania.

Case in point, the gent bellow was hosted on Romanian TV this January.

How can one have a rich life, an abundant existence?

Crazy psychic intones while touching different parts of his body:
“I am rich prosperous bountiful
Money comes to me easily from all directions constantly
I attract money like a magnet
My income is constantly increasing
I am grateful for the money I already have
and the money I will have
I am grateful for my growing prosperity
It’s so good to have everything in abundance”
Host: How many times must one do this?
Funny guy (punch line): Until starvation kicks in, and you go to fucking work.

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