The failures of interwar democracy in Eastern Europe are often ascribed to the lack of experience of the newly enfranchised population. In Romania, while the new voters indeed lacked experience, those who organized elections did not. Already before the war, the existing parties established extensive networks of party agents and civil servants in charge of local campaigns. In the 1920s and 30s the networks and the practice developed further, this time targeting the peasants in particular.
The nationalist theologian Nichifor Crainic penned a memorable description of political campaigns in the village. In 1928 he agreed to run for deputy as an independent candidate affiliated with the National-Peasant Party. The campaign, which the party insisted should take place in Crainic’s home district, left him under no illusions about the workings of Romanian democracy:
“The electoral campaign, by the side of the unscrupulous demagogue that was the local party boss, was a cruel revelation of what democracy meant in practice. In theory a national-peasant democracy seemed to me a wise form of government. My opponent was a Liberal, D. Iuca, a man who struggled like no other to meet the needs of the district. But he had to be defeated at any cost, not for me, but for the sake of the National Peasant Party. A gangly electoral agent was describing him. The opponent was rumoured to have Albanian origins. […] “’Who is him?’ would ask the agent. ‘He’s a foreigner, happened upon here. At night he locks himself inside, so you won’t hear he’s a foreigner, and sings Riki-tiki-tavi, the Albanian anthem, all night long.’ Riki-tiki-tavi was the name of a play, seen by the agent on the posters of the National Theatre. Hearing this unintelligible enormity, the peasants, whose ranks were peppered with other agents, were screaming: ‘Out, out! We don’t need him!’ Encouraged, the agent would turn to me: ‘While our candidate- he couldn’t pronounce my name well- sings only Awaken, Romanian! from dawn to dusk’ […]
The democratic idea would triumph especially as the speaker turned to my origin: ‘I called you, brothers, to elect the blood of the peasants, since our candidate is the son of a ploughman from here, just as I am the son of a peasant from Bucharest. Hurray…Long live!” […] ‘And besides, whoever is the candidate, brothers, you know the Romanian saying: ‘Do I look at the dog, or at whom the dog belongs to?’ And pointing at me with his finger, like he was owning me, he would scream: ‘The dog belongs to the National-Peasant Party! Hurray! Long live!’ Meanwhile I felt like barking and biting the agent’s tongue!
In the car, from one village to another, while eating raw onion to preserve his voice, the agent explained: ‘Brother Ionica, don’t get mad that I called you the party dog, these idiots doesn’t understands [sic] what’s an independent candidate.’
I was elected with an overwhelming majority. Great triumph of democracy!”
Source: Nichifor Crainic, Zile albe, Zile negre (Bucharest: Gandirea, 1991), 210-212.