COURAGE

connecting collections

Together with the famous Croatian philosopher Milan Kangrga and other intellectuals, Rudi Supek founded a philosophical school that was held every summer in Korčula from 1963 to 1974. Originally conceived as an academic exercise, the School soon became an international event with free critical discussion on a different subject put to the fore each year. It was a gathering of philosophers and sociologists from all around the world (for example, Erich Fromm, Lucien Goldmann, Henri Lefebvre). However, after a time the ruling state-party structures turned against the School and the intellectuals who were called “praxisovci” (Praxis intellectuals, or Praxis thinkers) (Lešaja 2014, 246).
The writing of Komunist, the official newspaper of the League of Communists of Yugoslavia (LCY), is an example of the regime's attacks on the Korčula Summer School and the Praxis intellectuals. In 1973, Komunist publicly branded the School as "political opposition" and “philosophy outside of the Party”, alluding to the open character of the School and the participation of foreign intellectuals. Supek responded in a letter addressed to the editor-in-chief of Komunist, Milan Rakas, in which he pointed out, among other things: “It is understood that the open character of an institution means at the same time willingness to discuss with people who have different and opposite opinions. Although it cannot be a 'conflict of opinions' among disciplined minded ones, ... I admit that I was surprised to see an attack on 'open Marxism' and 'creative Marxism' in your publication, because I have lived in the belief that they ['open Marxism' and 'creative Marxism'] are part of the LCY Programme and components of the spirit of self-management.” He also pointed out that the openness of a school does not mean “left-liberalism.”

Dated on 15 October 1971, the letter was signed by three members of The Club of the Free Kings. The club was in fact a group of teenagers, fourteen to sixteen years old, who gathered occasionally in order to listen to foreign music. In order to distinguish themselves from their peers, each member of the group took an English nickname and decided to wear a yellow T-shirt with the group’s initials and a flower imprinted on it. They also made badges for themselves with the name of the club, their nicknames, and the word “hippy,” as they wanted to be identified as a hippy group. Because their favourite music programme at RFE was Cornel Chiriac’s programme Metronom, they decided to write him a letter on behalf of the group. In their message, these young people described the impact of Theses of July 1971, which imposed an embargo on foreign cultural products of all kinds: “After the famous date of 7 July 1971 [actually, Ceaușescu delivered his speech on 6 July], a date that will remain forever inscribed in the calendar as a day of mourning, the lives of young people in Romania worsened even more: gone were the beards and the long hair, gone was pop, beat or progressive music. Everything was gone!” (ACNSAS, Informative Fonds, file 3032 vol. 1, f.21). Their letter represented a quite radical criticism of the cultural policies of Ceaușescu’s regime and the economic difficulties the Romanians had to face in their daily life. Moreover, they considered Cornel Chiriac’s show Metronom to be an escape from the grim reality of their lives and a window to “a freer, more beautiful life, a life you would like to live.” In the final part of the letter, the signatories asked Cornel Chiriac to broadcast their favourite songs. Unfortunately for them, the Romanian secret police, the Securitate, intercepted the letter and subjected its authors to an investigation. In the end, the members of The Club of the Free Kings received a warning from the Securitate and had to sign a declaration in which they recognised their guilt and pledged not to get involved in similar activities in the future.

This letter is an important document for the history of the post-war Romanian exile community because it is a proof of the attempt of a Romanian dissident to establish a connection with the emigration. The purpose was to gain the support of Romanians abroad. If their situation was publicised in the West, then there were chances that once returned to their country they would not suffer the reprisals of the communist regime. Also, such actions were meant to trigger the support of international public opinion in criticising Nicolae Ceausescu's dictatorship. One such example was the action of the Romanian writer and journalist Victor Frunză during a tour in France in 1978. In Paris, he wrote a letter to Eugène Ionesco (Eugen Ionescu), a French-language writer originally from Romania, a representative of the theatre of the absurd and a member of the French Academy. In this document, sent on 8 September 1978, Victor Frunză informed Eugène Ionesco that, in France, he criticised openly the situation in communist Romania, especially the personal power and personality cult of Nicolae Ceaușescu. Starting from the idea that he was not the first Romanian and hopefully not the last to do so, Frunză told Ionesco that his approach was deliberately chosen, in full awareness of the possible consequences for him: "When I did this, I knew what I could expect, but I have defeated my fear (...). The sense of the justice of my criticisms gives me the strength to resist. There is no fear of the reprisals that will come anyway, but in the face of the fears of others who can in my mind support me, and in fact will leave me. Immense is the fear of staying alone, as in a desert." In conclusion, Victor Frunză asked Eugène Ionesco to publicly support his action of criticising the dictatorship and personality cult of Nicolae Ceaușescu.

Nikolić asked Radica, as an outstanding Croatian writer in exile, to be an associate in the newly founded Croatian Review. Later Radica would be his closest collaborator, given his correspondence with Nikolić, as well as his articles and essays in the journal. Nikolić extended his offer of cooperation to Radica because his main goal was to bring together the Croatian intelligentsia irrespective of the partisan, political and ideological differences which otherwise harrowed and fragmented it. The common end was to continue the free cultural development of the Croatian nation when the homeland was under communist rule in order to affirm the Croatian national question through the journal’s pages. In the same letter, Nikolić asked Radica to convince Ivan Meštrović to accept collaboration in his review. Nikolić believed that Meštrović could influence the unity of Croatian emigrant communities with his authority as a great and renowned artist.