Mamdani’s Vision vs. Memories of Romanian Collectivism

On January 1, Mayor Zoran Mamdani assured New Yorkers that he aims to “replace the coldness of rugged individualism with the warmth of collectivism.” It’s interesting—psychologists haven’t yet labeled “rigid individualism” as a psychological disorder. Still, Mamdani’s idea of fuzzy collectivism brings to mind my experiences in communist Romania back in November 1987, and it’s a tough comparison.

I arrived in Bucharest aboard the Orient Express from Budapest. In the days before communism, traveling by that train symbolized capitalist excess. Post-revolution, the lavish meals were swapped for more attentive service, yet Transylvanian guards incessantly searched my accommodations, ensuring I wouldn’t share my Western mindset with the locals.

The train pulled into Bucharest several hours behind schedule. Let’s hope Mamdani isn’t counting on Romanian refugee planners to deliver on his “fast and free buses.”

Upon arriving at the only hotel permitted to house Western guests, I encountered a robust woman who seemed to be a government spy disguised as a prostitute. She rushed towards me, asking, “Why are you in Bucharest?”

“I’m just a tourist,” I replied. Actually, I was there to report as a journalist, but I didn’t mention that on my visa application. Technically, I was in Romania illegally—funny how those details seem to fade among friends.

“It’s really cold outside,” she said, “Let’s stay indoors. Aren’t you lonely?”

No way. She seemed to be a classic “honey trap,” and I had a personal rule about not sparring verbally with anyone sporting a better mustache than me.

The regime’s paranoia was astounding. When I requested a city map from the curmudgeonly hotel concierge, he shot me a glare and hissed, “We don’t have maps. Just tell me where you want to go, and I’ll show you.”

Something told me he wasn’t earning tips.

During his inaugural speech, Mamdani promoted subsidies like free childcare as cornerstones of a “free and fulfilling life.” But, you know, government perks often come with hidden costs.

Despite claims of free healthcare under the communist regime, women lived a grim reality. To boost the birth rate mandated in the five-year plans, the government banned contraception and abortion. This resulted in mandatory monthly check-ups for women aged 18 to 40 to ensure pregnancies weren’t being terminated. Thousands died from illegal abortions, and many were left disabled.

In Romania, “warmth” was an ideal used mostly in propaganda praising the supreme leader Nicolae Ceausescu. To conserve energy for factories, the government would often cut electricity to hospitals, leading to thousands of preventable deaths. Infant mortality rates were so staggering that the government withheld birth registrations until babies survived their first month.

Sporting my conspicuous Aussie-style hat marked me as a foreigner. Locals would stop me, pleading for packs of Kent cigarettes—essential currency for bribing doctors for medical care. In a place that used to be a rich agricultural region, widespread hunger was a grim reality. Ironically, the government countered allegations of starvation with public service announcements cautioning against overeating.

During visits to Czechoslovakia and East Germany, I had been shadowed by secret police. Thus, in Bucharest, I made it a point not to jot down thoughts openly; instead, I scribbled notes into the palm of my hand to jog my memory later.

While heading to catch a Lufthansa flight, a security guard spotted me and dashed over, his submachine gun bouncing off his belly. He inspected my palm, pointing and demanding, “What’s this?!”

I glanced down and then back at him.

“It’s just ink.”

He narrowed his eyes, seemed to accept my answer, then waved me onward.

A few weeks later, I turned that note into an article for the New York Times titled, “Economic Collapse: Eastern Europe, the New Third World.”

Just a couple of years before Mamdani was born, the Ceausescus faced a brutal execution. Their grandiose words failed to make an impact on the Romanians they had oppressed for so long.

During his election night address, Mamdani proclaimed that his supporters had “chosen hope over tyranny.” Yet, granting absolute power to good intentions could lead to trouble for the new mayor. Will he inadvertently fuel the very cynicism he claims to oppose?