Revolution 1989 Read Free Page B

one side of the wall in the barracks’ square. 1
    A ‘court room’ had been hastily prepared in a shabby lecture hall with rust-coloured walls. Five plastic-covered tables served as the bench. A dock had been set up with two tables and chairs in a corner. The squalid surroundings may have lacked the dignity usually thought necessary for such a momentous event, but from Stanculescu’s point of view they served their purpose. When the delegation from Bucharest arrived in the room just after midday the accused were already sitting down, flanked by two guards. Three days earlier Nicolae and Elena Ceausescu had been the most feared and hated couple in the country. They had the power of life and death over twenty-three million Romanians. They ran the most brutal police state in Europe. Domestic television and the press hailed them each day as virtual demigods. Now they were simply a querulous and confused old couple, exhausted, nervous, bickering together gently. They were dressed in the same clothes they wore when they made their escape from the capital - he in a black woollen coat over a crumpled grey suit, looking older than his seventy-one years. Elena, a year older, was wearing a fawn-coloured fur-collared coat, with a blue silk headscarf covering her grey hair.
    That morning in Bucharest, the prominent lawyer Nicu Teodorescu was having Christmas breakfast with his family when he was telephoned by an aide to the new President, Ion Iliescu, and asked by the National Salvation Front to be the Ceausescus’ defence counsel. He replied that it ‘would be an interesting challenge’. After thinking it through for a few moments he agreed. The first time he met the couple was in the Târgoviste ‘court room’ when he was given ten minutes to consult with his clients. The interview did not go well. With so little time to prepare any defence he tried to explain to them that their best hope of avoiding the death sentence was to plead insanity. The idea was brushed aside gruffly. ‘When I suggested it,’ said Teodorescu, ‘Elena in particular said it was an outrageous set-up. They felt deeply insulted . . . They rejected my help after that.’ 2
    The ‘trial’ began at around 1 p.m. There were five military judges, all generals in uniform, and two military prosecutors. It was public in the sense that a junior officer filmed the event, but he was ordered only to show the defendants. At no point were the judges, prosecutors or defence counsel recorded on film. It lasted fifty-five minutes. The ousted dictator snarled throughout most of the proceedings. On occasions he angrily picked up his black astrakhan cap from the table in front of him and threw it back down again as if to emphasise a point. She was far less demonstrative, looking straight in front of her most of the time. Occasionally they would hold hands and whisper to each other, always addressing each other as ‘my dear’.
    There was no written evidence produced against them and no witnesses were called. From the beginning the ex-President rejected the court’s right to try him. ‘I recognise only the Grand National Assembly and the representatives of the working class,’ he said repeatedly. ‘I will sign nothing. I will say nothing. I refuse to answer those who have fomented this coup d’etat . I am not the accused. I am the President of the republic. I am your commander-in-chief. The National Treason Front in Bucharest . . . usurped power.’
    The charges were read out by the prosecutor. Ceausescu’s bravado remained consistent throughout:
    PROSECUTOR: These are the crimes we charge against you and ask this tribunal to sentence both of you to death.
    1. Genocide.
    2. Organising armed action against the people and the State.
    3. The destruction of public assets and buildings.
    4. Sabotage of the national economy.
    5. Attempting to flee the country with funds of more than US$ 1 billion, deposited in foreign banks.
    Have you heard this, accused? Please stand