Florin Pavlovici

As in most memoirs of political detention, the book follows the classic structure of arrest, interrogation under torture, show trial, sentencing, temporary prison, and the final destination of a prison or labor camp. In 1959, a friend and former university colleague, Dumitru Filip, is criticized during a Workers Youth Union meeting. In response, he hands over to the secret police a number of letters, written by those who criticized him and not only, some years old, in which they spoke about the communist abuse during collectivization, the lying, ongoing propaganda and intellectual quality of the communist officials. In this age, this was very compromising material.[1] Pavlovici is arrested and taken to the Ministry of Internal Affairs for cross-examination (the inquisitor's name was Constantin Voicu). He is brutally beaten during the investigation, and after a show trial held on 5 June 1959, he receives a 5-year sentence under the charge of "conspiracy against the communist social order".[2] The first destination is Salcia labor camp, where he arrives at the beginning of September 1959.[3] Here, the prisoners had to raise a dam that was supposed to protect the Great Brǎila Island – where massive swamp drains were performed in order to make the terrain tillable – from floodings caused by the Danube. The dam was started from both Salcia and Stoenești labor camp and the workers were supposed to met in the middle. In Spring 1962, Pavlovici is moved to Strâmba labor camp, and from here – because of the camp being flooded – in the Danube Delta, on the Chilia branch at the sea shore.[4] Here, they were kept on two barges, and their task was similar to the one at Salcia, to raise a dam that would protect land from floods. Later the same year, he is moved to Grindu working site, a satellite of Periprava labor camp,[5] where prisoners spent the winter transporting wood from the Letea Forest. In summer of 1963, there was a triage of former typhoid fever sufferings and Pavlovici falsely reports he had the disease before incarceration, counting on the fact that the camp officials were not able to check this out, due to lack of proper medical equipment. This group was later moved to Gherla Prison, where Pavlovici would spend the remaining prison time, until his liberation, on 31 January 1964.[6]

Through his memoirs, Pavlovici makes heavy use of dark humor in presenting the atrocities of labor camps. When building the Great Island dam, detainees had to excavate and transport 3.2 m³ (110 cu ft) of soil per day, sometimes from hundred of meters away. This quota was hard to met even for a well-fed, healthy person that was actually willing to do it. For a starving, untrained, poorly dressed prisoner, in the coldness of winter, it was an impossible task. In November and December 1959, approximately 60 people died each month at Salcia.[7] Heat, cold, beatings, hunger, diseases, exhaustion, and humiliation were constant, and these conditions give the presented events an eerie and absurd feeling. Everything seams unnatural, but instead of highlighting this in a tragic manner, Pavlovici uses dark comedy.

As such, at night, the inmates can tell the time based on how full the bucket (used as toilet) is. During winter, when quotes cannot be attained, they are beaten by the guards with sticks over the bottom. The beating is humiliating, but bearable. What hurts more is waiting in line, in front of the punishment hut, in the cold of winter, after a full days work. So, on their return to the labor camp, the prisoners hurry up to catch front row. The guard dogs show more human characteristics then the guards themselves; they bark, but never bite a man that lies on the ground, whereas the officers show no such restraint. Many of the inmates are intellectuals, teachers, priests, doctors. To help pass the time when working was not possible, many held conferences in the cells, sharing their teachings while some were listening sitting on the bucket. The imagination is put to the test when playing cell games: as food was scarce, inmates were describing in vivid detail the best meal that they could ever dream off, a game somewhat inaccessible to the dismayed simple peasants. As for medical care, it was not always the doctors that provided it. One day, being too sick for work, Pavlovici refuses to leave the prisoner barracks. Assistance does not arrive from the camp hospital, but from a camp guard.

"All of a sudden, sergeant major Negoița appeared in the door frame. He was checking the barrack for late workers. With eyes meant for practiced hunters, he saw me on spot. Young, athletic, sergeant major Negoița was a beautiful man, blond, with shining blue eyes, straw colored hair, pouring down in stripes from under the helmet. Dashing and cheerful, he looked like a Soviet actor who specialized in heroic roles. Wide shoulders, tight hips and, underneath his well fitted uniform, the harmonious pack of muscles was remarkable. What was such a perfect specimen doing in that place was an enigma to me. His rightful place was in the arena, on the running track, or in the swimming pool, breaking records and bathing in the ovations of the crowd. He came towards me and, without any effort or soar, floating like, jumped straight onto my bed, which was a meter and a half high. [...] He gave me this long, genteel look, full of compassion. Recalling my childhood, when I fell ill, his bright eyes, as blue and serene as my grandmothers, were bringing comfort. I knew then that the man standing in front of me will help, that he will call the doctor, and if not will carry me himself all the way to the infirmary. He did not choose this beaten track, but one of total involvement. All of a sudden, bending his knees and arching his legs, with the same ease that brought him up onto the bed, he jumped with both feet on my chest. And he started to walk. Methodical, and passionate. His favorite strolling place were my chest and abdomen, but he was not reluctant towards my head or feet as well. He was dancing on top of me like he was at a weeding. [...]It felt more like a initiation dance, a ritual born to an ancient culture where the dancer became one with the healer, and the dancing healer became one with the suffering. On the other hand, witchdoctor Negoița showed a profound respect towards his patient. His treatment sought every muscle, every piece of meat, and did not overlook the bones, a possible source of the disease.""

— Florin Constantin Pavlovici, Tortura, Pe Înțelesul Tuturor. p. 99

• Ion Ioanid
• Nicolae Steinhardt
• Ion Gavrilă Ogoranu
• Socialist Republic of Romania

• Pavlovici, Florin Constantin (2012). Tortura, Pe Înțelesul Tuturor. Ediția a III-a. Editura Fundației Academia Civicǎ. ISBN 978-973-8214-70-5.