By the late 1980s, Romania’s economic and social conditions had deteriorated significantly. Nicolae Ceaușescu ruled the country with an authoritarian grip, prioritizing the repayment of foreign debt at the expense of living standards. Severe food shortages, frequent power outages, and limited heating supplies made life unbearable for ordinary citizens, while Ceaușescu and his inner circle lived in luxury.
In December 1989, unrest erupted in Timișoara following the attempted expulsion of Hungarian minority pastor László Tőkés. The local protests quickly escalated into widespread demonstrations calling for democratic reforms and Ceaușescu’s resignation. The regime responded with violence, deploying the army and the secret police, but the events in Timișoara sparked a ripple effect, spreading to other cities, including the capital, Bucharest.
On December 18, 1989, Ceaușescu organized a mass rally in Bucharest to demonstrate public support, but the crowd turned against him. The following day, Ceaușescu lost control of the situation as the military refused orders to fire on civilians and instead sided with the protesters. Ceaușescu and his wife, Elena, attempted to flee by helicopter but were captured shortly thereafter.
On December 25, 1989, Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu were hastily tried in a makeshift court, charged with genocide, economic destruction, and crimes against the Romanian people. The trial lasted only a few hours, resulting in death sentences for both. They were executed on the same day.
The fall of Ceaușescu marked one of the bloodiest episodes in the collapse of communist regimes across Eastern Europe, ending over 40 years of communist dictatorship in Romania. It highlighted how rapidly a dictatorship could crumble once fear dissipated and the ruling elite’s loyalty to the leader eroded.
– Was Nicolae Ceaușescu’s downfall a surprise, or was it more surprising how the events unfolded?
– I vividly remember what happened 35 years ago. I had the opportunity to comment on the collapse of the communist regime on the iconic MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour. I was on the program for five consecutive evenings. When Ceaușescu fled by helicopter, Robin MacNeil called me that morning and said, "It’s done! You’re back on air tonight, right?" And I made a prediction on the show. This happened on the evening of December 21 in the United States—you can find it online, available on PBS’s website. I said it was clear this would happen and listed the reasons.
Having studied the Eastern bloc for years, I had foreseen this eventuality. In 1989, I effectively lost one of my primary research areas, East Germany. Good for them, not so good for my professional portfolio, right? But on a serious note, I said that Ceaușescu’s end was inevitable. I don’t recall if it was Jim Lehrer or Robin MacNeil who pressed me further, asking how inevitable. I replied, "I don’t know, but it’s very, very close—perhaps tomorrow."
I recall my colleague and supervisor at the institute where I worked, the renowned historian Daniel Pipes, sending me a note—this was before email, of course—saying, "Vladimir, do you realize you’re essentially betting your career on this? Political scientists don’t say ’tomorrow.’" I responded, "Well, so be it." Interestingly, an article in World Politics discusses the "element of surprise in international relations," naming two individuals who somewhat accurately predicted the events of 1989: Václav Havel and me. Havel foresaw the collapse of the Eastern bloc, but I was more precise in timing.
My forecast wasn’t due to extraordinary expertise but because I paid closer attention than many of my colleagues studying Soviet and comparative communist systems. I vividly recall the Singing Revolution in the Baltic states, which I followed closely. I emphasized shifting focus away from Central Committee plenum outcomes or Politburo changes—whether the new General Secretary was more reformist or conservative—and instead looking at grassroots movements. This bottom-up perspective changed everything.
– What prevented Nicolae Ceaușescu from relinquishing power peacefully? Honecker fled to Moscow with his wife, and Jaruzelski negotiated with his opponents. Why couldn’t Ceaușescu do the same?
– First, I think he simply didn’t want to. In the past, I was in contact with a person now living in London who was the leading figure behind a major strike in Romania in August 1977. Remember, this happened around the same time as Solidarność in Poland, but slightly earlier. The strike took place in the Jiu Valley in Transylvania, led by coal miners. Miners played a fascinating role in Romanian history, particularly in 1990, when they came to Bucharest during the so-called "Miner Riots," which were actually orchestrated by the authorities—the miners were essentially directed by the secret police, Securitate.
The 1977 strike erupted over changes to pension rules. The miners were working in dreadful conditions in mines dating back to the Austro-Hungarian era. Their working hours had previously been reduced to six per day, but the new law extended them to eight. This, along with other changes, caused significant discontent. The local party committee couldn’t control the movement, and Ceaușescu—who was at his seaside residence on the Black Sea at the time—had to intervene. He sent one of his deputies to negotiate with the miners, but they took the deputy hostage and demanded to speak with Ceaușescu himself. Eventually, Ceaușescu arrived by helicopter, left his security detail behind, and spoke directly to the miners. While the movement was later suppressed—leaders were separated from their families and relocated—no one was immediately imprisoned during that time.
The next significant event occurred in 1987, during Gorbachev’s tenure in the Soviet Union, when Ceaușescu’s behavior was already being condemned by the West. In Brașov, a city personally dear to me since I was born there, a workers’ uprising took place. It was clearly anti-communist, but the repression was brutal. Internal security forces were involved, and many were beaten, tortured, or imprisoned. I remember writing an article for The New York Times at the time titled, "Is Romania Next?"
By 1989, Ceaușescu felt increasingly isolated as Moscow’s support waned. Gorbachev warned him, saying, "Be careful, Nicolae!" Gorbachev even referred to him as "our Adolf." This attitude, combined with Ceaușescu’s obstinacy, led to the events in Timișoara, where he authorized violent repression. The crackdown in Bucharest followed shortly after, but by then, Ceaușescu and his wife had already fled the city. They were captured and executed on December 25, three days after leaving Bucharest.
– Currently, many hope for a similar fate for Russia’s dictator. How realistic do you find such a scenario?
If you ask whether there are parallels between Vladimir Putin and Nicolae Ceaușescu and whether Putin could meet a similar fate, I’d say it’s not impossible. I won’t claim it will happen tomorrow, but I believe it’s likely. Such regimes always end; it’s only a matter of time and circumstances.
A different approach to understanding the erosion of communist dominance is to focus on the rise of civil society rather than just crises within the elite. While this perspective is somewhat clichéd today, it wasn’t at the time. I published an article in Problems of Communism titled, "The Emerging Civil Society in the German Democratic Republic." I remember colleagues who were still studying communism—rather than post-communism—saying, "Vladimir is completely crazy. How can he talk about civil society?" Yet, independent peace movements and other initiatives didn’t arise from nowhere.
Many failed to recognize the power of emotions and expectations. We didn’t have public opinion polls in the USSR, Romania, or the GDR. Even if such polls were conducted, they were ultra-secret and carried out by the secret police, which was the only reliable source of information—though even they lied extensively. I’ve examined my own Securitate file, which is riddled with falsehoods and incompetence. The secret police didn’t attract educated, Western-minded individuals; it was an unappealing environment for intelligent people.
The communist elite—though I wouldn’t call them a true elite—feared civil society and tried to neutralize it as much as possible. Ceaușescu didn’t understand that something was smoldering beneath the surface. Similarly, Putin might face multiple "exit scenarios." He’s too cautious and experienced not to be aware of what happened in December 1989 and how civil society can reemerge unexpectedly. It happens in minutes or hours. That’s just how life works.
Recently, I had lunch with an old friend, the well-known Czech dissident Martin Palouš. Martin was the Czech ambassador to Washington, a representative of Charter 77, and even wrote texts for the band Plastic People of the Universe. He was also a student of Jan Patočka. So, last week, I asked him, "Martin, based on your experience, how would you define a revolution?" He replied, "I go to bed at night knowing which newspapers I’ll find at the kiosk the next morning. And when I wake up, I find something entirely different. Overnight, everything has changed. Neues Deutschland is gone. Pravda is gone." Similarly, Putin might one day find himself in a world where Novaya Gazeta is back on the shelves.
There are many scenarios for Putin’s downfall. For instance, I believe he’d have a worse life in North Korea than in a Russian or Dutch prison. In major global capitals like Washington and Paris, there’s undoubtedly discussion about his potential exit. I’m reminded of a conversation I had with a friend in the 1970s. He said, "I don’t know if either of us will live to see Ceaușescu’s downfall, but one thing is certain—he himself will experience it." And so it happened. Although my friend didn’t live to see it, having perished in the 1977 earthquake, I was fortunate enough to witness Ceaușescu’s end and to share my reflections with you.