LAURENTIU STEFAN1 

Sutu set off by laying out the conceptual background, which should underpin every modernizing project. For Sutu, the modern man is, first of all, the one "who aims constantly towards prosperity, who never stops growing and whose limits are as remote as the endless development of civilization."2  Property is "the keystone of social order,"3  industry [meaning the economy] is "the condition for the existence of nations,"4  manufacturing industry "is what achieves the most prompt and considerable profits; it is what raised England and the United States to the ranks of the wealthiest and most powerful nations of the globe."5 

Let us consider Moldavia first. "With the resources that it has and with its access to the Danube, it could still aspire to follow the path that other much poorer nations have taken . . . and which are now incomparably wealthier, more powerful and more civilized."6  Thus, reality makes the "path of modernization" possible, the same path which other states have taken before us. More precisely, in order for Moldavia to catch up with more civilized countries it has to do the following in the realm of agriculture: (1) to encourage industry; (2) to institute a model farm; (3) to improve the communication channels; and (4) to establish banks for farmers.7 

In order to understand why the manufacturing industry is non-existent in Moldavia, Sutu makes up a list of ‘prerequisites’, resembling those of Rostow’s list. He talks about the need of linking the development of industry to that of agriculture [each being a market for the other], he insists on the decisive importance of capital and credit institutions and on several other less concrete, but just as important things, such as public trust, proper legislation and its proper application. Sutu talks again about communication channels when he notes that "we cannot foresee the unquantifiable impact – including that on the moral state of the population – which the building of a railway could have upon a country with rich industrial resources."8  In the end he mentions the important role that education should play, the only force which "can shape men . . . and uproot the prejudices of routine from their minds . . ."9 

The state was not forgotten. In the then present state of Moldavian society, the state was urged to set examples, to encourage, to stimulate, and to energize people. The state had to be the first to pursue activities, it had to stimulate inventiveness, to give awards for economic projects, to welcome the foreigners who wanted to participate in the economic life of the country, to encourage the development of banks, to improve communication channels, to develop the local industry. Also, here are the virtual energizing effects: "aristocracy, as a result of its activity, will be soon disgusted by the contemplative life, while the working class will no longer look at the public jobs for a remedy which these cannot offer." 10  It would be pointless to go more around this issue. What really mattered was to underline the nuance that this idea induces: it is not the state that should modernize the country, but it only has to offer the proper environment for this, and to incite people towards a new universe. Let us remember this idea, which will not be heard very often in the later intellectual landscape of Romania. Even implicitly, Sutu’s intent to conceive a real project of modernization is clear. He stated himself that his paper contained "principles and rules, which have to guide the material interests of this country."11  Sutu had the intention of going further than just the economic plan: "my initial plan was much larger . . . I intended to develop in the following chapters the moral, intellectual, and political state of Moldavia."12  In other words, he intended his views on modernity to be complete.

Cuza’s election to rule the destiny of the two countries was providential. Not only because it seemed to represent the middle path between the two extremes of the political spectrum, but also because, from the viewpoint of modernization, he had assumed from the very beginning the two types of projects: ‘the political’ and ‘the economic’. Cuza is indeed the almost perfect example of what modernizing theory calls ‘a modernizing monarch’, and my further analysis of his actions intends to demonstrate this statement and will point out those elements of this theory, which will allow a different understanding of Cuza’s policy. "The meaning for the country of my election is double: unity and reform," he said in 1861.13  In reality, the duplicity was much more profound and it marked all seven years of his rule. The ultimate reason for his election was, it should be remembered, the strengthening of the international position of the United Principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia. From this point of view, he carried out this task, being the dignified representative of a ‘skillful’ political class, which knew how to take the fullest possible advantage out the favorable external circumstances.14  On the other hand, he knew that the successes of foreign policy would be vulnerable and temporary if they were not accompanied by a similar success of the internal policy. There is no foreign policy, which does not have repercussions inside the country, and almost no internal policy that need not take into consideration the special interests of the great guaranteeing powers. For reasons, judging Cuza’s modernizing actions, without showing the limits imposed by the international status of the country, would mean to minimize his efforts. Therefore, despite these limitations, Cuza can appear to be a modernizing leader who has all the characteristics of the ideal type. "Everything has to be remade," he said in the message he delivered to the Parliament, on the 6th of December 1859. Dinicu Golescu made a similar point: "The sons of Romania are anxious to escape from the material and intellectual delay they were sunk in . . . finding themselves as they were, standing ashamed at the gates of Europe without knowing about the progress made by the arts, sciences, and industry."15  There was a little over thirty years between the two expressions of the realization of the existence of the delay, but politically quite a bit had changed. The realization of lagging behind other countries in Europe belongs now to the one asked to put into practice a complete reform project, meant to shorten the distance between ‘civilization’ and us.

Cuza’s program is almost complete. It points to the concentration of power [an essential premise in starting the reform] and the installation of mechanisms for a better administration, but also economic objectives which remind us quite well of the first modernization project of N. Sutu. There is no proof that there was a direct influence [except maybe, the intermediary presence of Ion Ghica], but the message presented on the 6th of December 1859 in front of the Parliament, restates, practically point by point, the proposals made by the Moldavian economist.16  In essence, the message admits – quite surprisingly, says Zane – that industry plays the most important role in the modernization process. The importance of industry for a country, which, although highly agricultural, has a weakly developed agricultural sector, and also the very strong interdependence between the two branches of the economy, were also underlined by Sutu. A ‘free’ industry led by private initiative and not shielded by protectionist laws, but encouraged by the State [through awards for inventions and profitable projects], communication routes, credit institutions and an economic culture is another vital feature of the program presented in 1849 in Notions statistiques. This resemblance may seem striking, but even if a direct connection cannot be proved, the state of public opinion, prepared and exposed during the last decade to more or less naive projects of economic reform, has to be also taken into account. What is most surprising is the scope and coherence of Cuza’s project.

The great reform effort needed a sizable amount of money. However, from this point of view, the context was not favorable at all. First of all, because the previous regime had left the country in a disastrous economic and financial state. Leaving aside the budget deficit, Gheorghe Zane pointed out: "All the fundamental economic institutions were falling apart: the great landed property, the guilds of the manufacturers and salesmen, the monetary system and the administration of the budget."17  To this it should be added the worldwide commercial crisis that affected the two countries at the beginning of Cuza’s administration and which brought about a "significant fall of prices, a strong decrease of exports and the resounding bankruptcy of the Bank of Moldavia."18 

In January 1859 the financial situation of the two Principalities was dramatic. The Prince had to take some exceptional measures [a tax of 5 million lei] in order to come up with a temporary remedy for the difficulties of the moment, which would not have been wise to leave unaddressed for long. During his seven years of rule all of the budgets would close with a deficit. The problem the Prince faced was how to finance a great modernization effort under such conditions. "An increase in spending was absolutely necessary"19  in order to attain this goal. The main source of this critical shortness of financial means resided in the fiscal system. It was "incapable of satisfying the current needs, much less to have resources for investments, as well."20 

This blunt reality reveals one of the first internal obstacles: the Prince had to face a dominant class prepared to fight with the weapons which the system provided, in order to maintain its remaining privileges. This class obstinately refused any of Cuza’s proposals to impose a different method of allocating the fiscal expenses. The contradictions which marked the behavior of those who asked for new institutions, but did not want to finance them, shows the essentially hostile nature of the political environment in which Cuza had to impose his reforms. Undoubtedly, what we have here is a resounding failure of his modernizing policy in the fiscal area. "The people of that time, Zane sadly remarked, the same people who, due to their patriotism and enthusiasm, made the Unification possible, were not capable . . . of taking up the modernization of Romania."21 

In these circumstances, the only possibility, which remained open for Cuza, was to resort to internal or external loans. Once again the obstacles were significant. Cuza had been thinking, even from the first year of his rule, to finance the most important workings of public utility [the infrastructure of banks, roads and ports] with foreign capital.22  Two ‘useful’ institutions were to be born no later than 1860, the emission bank and the landed bank, but the loan, which started under favorable auspices, would not come through. Only in 1864 was the Stern loan btained, but it had to be used for financing the budget deficit. Successes are therefore rare and delayed, but they are not missing: the railway from Bucharest to Giurgiu was taken under concession by the English House of Berkley in 186523  and an agreement for the building of a deposit bank was finally signed on the 17th of October, 1865. This bank would have an ephemeral life under this form. This is the first image of a prince maintaining a strong wish to modernize the country, with an ambitious plan, but seemingly deprived of all means that could have ensured his success.

The first three years of his rule were characterized by a high degree of government instability and a complicated legislative system [the essential role of the Central Committee] so they were less suitable for internal reforms. However, it was obvious that a good politician like Cuza would direct his first efforts towards strengthening his [and implicitly the country’s] position in relationship with the great powers. It was not a reform period yet, but rather one of ‘consolidation’.24  The recognition of the territorial Union and later on of the administrative, were the fruits of Cuza’s skillful diplomacy.

It could be said, using a term borrowed from Samuel Huntington’s analysis, that Cuza’s strategy was an ‘almost-Fabianist’ one.25  This means that he proposed at every stage of his enterprise an objective, which he tried to reach before going on to the next. Following this strategy, the succession of plans, which could assure the success of the reforms, was the following: national, political, social and economic. In his book, Political Order in Changing Societies, Huntington takes as an example, the successful Fabianist strategy of the ‘Father of the Turks’, Mustafa Kemal. In his case, the succession of the reforms was classic: the homogenization of the national community, the creation of modern institutions in order to facilitate the exercise of authority, cultural modernization, social reforms [equality of opportunity and the secular character of society generally speaking], and finally economic and industrial development.26 

In the already-mentioned book, Huntington argues that the mission of a reformer is more difficult than that of a revolutionary.27  There are plenty of reasons, and they are all at work in the case of Cuza. First of all, the reformer has to fight on two fronts: against the revolutionaries and against the conservatives. He had to soften the rigidity of the latter by inducing nuances of fluidity and adaptability, while to the strong desire of the latter to turn the social order upside down, he had to lay the foundation for gradual and controlled change. In order to bring such an effort to conclusion, Huntington determines that the reformer has to have significant political skills, proving himself "a master politician"28  which are not necessary for a revolutionary. All of these reasons, combined with the short analysis which follows, strengthen my opinion that the classical paradigm of the reformer is perfectly reincarnated in Cuza’s political action.

Nevertheless, for two more years, the difficult cohabitation between the Prince and the Parliament produced some results. The most successful policy was undoubtedly, the takeover by the state of the properties of the monasteries in December of 1863. This was a remarkable success, which was, once again, the fruit of the ‘accomplished fact’ policy and of the political skill of the government. This policy had, like almost every other, a double purpose: it targeted, as a matter of course, the expansion of the political and economic control over a quarter from the country’s territory and also it put the Church hierarchy under secular domination. For Vlad Georgescu, the significance of this measure in the long run was quite a bit more serious: "the Romanian Orthodox clergy will never have this political and material independence towards the secular power again."29  The strengthening of the central power follows its inexorable course.

The period between December 25, 1863 and April 27, 1864 remains the period in which the "constructive Parliamentary activity is the most fruitful."30  Laws were passed which organized the judicial process, local government, etc.; all in only two months [March – April, 1864]. However, during all of this time the Parliament discussed land reform, which would precipitate the break.

I will postpone for the time being the discussion concerning the nature and rationale for land reform and its impact. I will bring back into the discussion, for a moment, the characteristics that make it incompatible with any parliamentary regime. The general rule [to which the Romanian example is not an exception] is that "in developing countries the legislative assemblies are more conservative than the executive power . . . and are also dominated by the landowners.31  In order to demonstrate that "there is an incompatibility between Parliaments and agrarian reforms," the American author gives the examples of Pakistan, Iran, Egypt, Brazil and other countries engaged in a full modernizing process in the 20th century, a category in which the Romania of 1864 could have fit quite well. The scheme is universal: "In order to have a successful agrarian reform, the Parliaments have to be suspended, the reform has to be imposed through a decree which will be later ratified by a popular referendum."32  I do not know if the Romanian ruler was the first to apply this scheme, but he did it point by point.

Even the takeover of the land of the monasteries by the State and, later on, the land reform, are, from a closer look, serious offenses to the principle of the inviolability of property.33  There is no doubt that other considerations weighed more in making these decisions, but it has to be admitted that the act really is a violation of a certain liberty.

Two days after the coup d’etat, the authoritarian tendencies were again at work in the new decree which restricted the liberty of the press. This was a logical step in the succession of measures, which were meant to prepare the ground for a regime of severe reforms, and not an "inevitable consequence to the abuses of the language."34  Suspending the periodic newspapers started right after the referendum.

There is still a novelty in the administration of the country, which underlines once more the particular role of Cuza in its modernization. Starting with him the expression ‘raison d’etat’ comes to life. The decline of power, the coup d’etat, and the unorthodox means are less important. What is important is the ‘reason of state’,35  the development of the reforms, the ‘progress of the nation’. There is no superior value to this.

From that moment onwards the first symptoms of the ‘politics of state’ manifest themselves vigorously for the first time in the political history of the country. The first signs of the partisan state: "the office worker who is not with us is a traitor," could have been said by the master of operations, Kogalniceanu, in 1864-1865. He actually said this in order to justify, in Cuza’s eyes, the few electoral mistakes that appeared, as being the result of the deficient electoral behavior of priests and police officers.36  The consequence of this fact was the dismissal of the "office workers who dare to show a certain sympathy for the opposition."37 

The methods that were used [which will unfortunately be repeated later] leave no doubt that the State was used as a political instrument in the service, in this case, not of a party, but of a ‘superior reasoning’. The verbal orders [which leave no trace] are frequent in the fight against the opposition38  but, as always, the moment of an election is the privileged moment to feel the pressure of the administrative apparatus. Kogalniceanu himself is the one who draws the candidate lists, who rules out persons, and who initiates pressures in order to "make sure that all the candidates of the government are elected."39  Giurescu highlights even the personal care with which Kogalniceanu draws these lists – the explanation given by him being that the election of 1864 had to be "the big success of the regime and of the government."40  Ultimately, the violation of the legal procedures were used to remake an electoral choice, when the winning candidate was not ‘convenient’.41  Thus, the manipulation of elections became a custom.

Finally, a word should be said about the first attempt to develop a service for providing information through the network of telegraph operators. Through this means, Kogalniceanu was informed on the actions of the prefects, on the opposition, and the state of public opinion.42  The procedures were not allowed, concludes Giurescu, but were justified by the "superior reason of state."43  Therefore, it is difficult to see Romania in the given the circumstances, as an "oasis of democracy and freedom," as a French journalist exclaimed once with delight.44 

Constantin Giurescu’s book gives us all the details of the image of a ‘paternal’ ruler. As I have already said, he is the one who decides all the projects, of whatever nature they might be.45  The industrial workers from Galati address him directly,46  the foreigners who want to acquire concessions, the young Romanian students who cannot make their way to the Romanian colleges in a normal way,47  the peasants who want justice to be done – all do the same.48 

It is useless to call attention to the ‘nepotism’, which became so popular in that period, since its promoter was Cuza himself. It appears that the manner of legitimizing the Ruler became that of rendering homage. If, in a few occasions [such as the double election of Cuza]49  the letters and telegrams sent to the Prince expressed a normal state of mind, even if, with the occasion of the land reform act, the reaction of the peasants was understandable,50  even if the phrases are sometimes an indication of bad times [Cuza is named "the benevolent Father and Liberator of the peasant nation"], sometimes the homage seemed to be the sign of a political conformity, an expression of the docility of the people and of the support for dictatorship. The signs for this state of political conformity are the homage and the congratulations addressed to Cuza on the occasion of the ‘victory’ against the rebellion of the 3rd of August, 1865 and the movement of support after the letter sent by the Prince to the Turkish ruler in which he justified the firmness of his reaction.51  This is just another sign that the rule of the country needed to proceed on the basis of a referendum, on which Alexandru Ioan Cuza’s authoritarian leadership was based. In this context, an analysis of public opinion at the time was probably correct. The researcher sent to the Ruler the result of this analysis: "the country is longing for stability, for a strong and committed government; if it would be consulted, I am sure it would answer: dictatorship, universal suffrage, rural law…"52 

ACHIEVEMENTS

 

The Distribution of Power

 

Despite his direct and authoritarian rule, Cuza seemed to be lacking the means to actually control the entire country. He resorted to French specialists "in order to modernize the administrative system and the army."53  This explains the kinship between the Romanian and French administrative and political systems, a kinship which continues even today. It also explains the essentially French nature of very important institutions such as the Cassation and Justice Courts, the Audit Office, and the Savings Bank.54 

A short statistical view can be, in this context, quite revealing. The number of students attending public schools was, in the beginning of this period, only 725. Their number would grow, by 1850, to approximately 10,000.55  Official statistics indicated 22,940 students in the country for the year 1858, and 53,580 (plus 5932 in the cities) in 1860. This percentage barely rises with 0.01 percent at over more than 1.3 percent of the population of the country [estimated at 3,864,848 inhabitants in 1859).

There were even a small number of scholarships for higher education [65 for Bucharest and Iasi, and the same number for foreign countries] awarded by the state in exchange for the commitment to work for ten years in the places indicated by the government.56 

Cuza honestly encouraged private initiative and the investment of foreign capital,57  although, as I already mentioned, it was very difficult to obtain even one credit and one acceptable formula for a project regarding a national bank. He certainly had more success, as Giurescu pointed out, with the insurance companies.

In agriculture, he offered his own strong personal example in order to give an incentive to the landowners to make use of mechanized ways of working the land.58  Still, mechanization was quite limited and did not significantly influence the development of agriculture; the big difficulty was not the acquiring of the machines, but the lack of mechanical workers to use them.59 

Related to industry, it is worth mentioning one good principle: "Private industry, which is made active and alert by its own interests, fulfills its duty a lot more promptly and economically than does the government."60  Cuza had more success, on the other hand, in the development of communications. The railway from Bucharest to Giurgiu, given under concession to the English House of Berkley, was inaugurated in 1869, while the construction of 19 metal bridges was projected for 1868. A true take-off – perhaps the only one – is made in the development of the telegraph network, which grew from 839,950 km. in 1859 to 2,897,360 km. in 1863.61  Therefore, its political relevance in the control of the country should not be overlooked.

Two years later the political balance was almost the same. The new element in the political game was Cuza. His reformist will was obvious and even proven. His image as a unifying ruler offered him popular support and, nonetheless, he knew how to build an administrative system subjected to his will. His political ability, due to which he was able to usher an important number of reforms through the Legislative Assembly and the fragility of his position in relation to the great powers delayed the coup, which had been planned for a long time.62  Therefore, the land reform act is, by its nature, the classic breaking point between the reformist ruler and the conservative Legislative Assembly.

The land reform act was promulgated on the 14th of August, 1864. It stipulated that the peasants could own the land they were working, in the specified proportions. The work obligations to the owner were abolished, but they had to be repaid by paying an annual tax for fifteen years. A careful analysis demonstrates that, theoretically, if the peasants did not pay for the land they received, the payment for the work obligations was equal to its value.63  Finally, the money given to the owners [and to the state, which asked more than 20 percent of the sums owed by the peasants] worked to improve both the life of the peasants64  and the evolution of the agricultural economy. A number of 511,896 families profited from the rural law of 1864, coming into the possession of over 2 million hectares of land.

The immediate consequence of this reform was the neutralization of the societal danger, which the peasantry might represent. "The peasants become revolutionaries when the conditions for owning the land, the agricultural arrangements, the work, the taxes and the prices become unbearable."65  There are facts that cause me to believe that many of these conditions were met during the reform period. In this context the responsibility of the rulers was huge. "The social stability of the developing countries depends, to some extent, on the capacity of the government to promote reform in the countryside." Once again, the political intuition of the Romanian ruler has to be praised. Cuza achieved, through his reform, an objective, which he did not take on explicitly, but which was essential for a political regime. C. Giurescu observes, as well, that "an indisputable consequence of the rural law of 1864 was the fact that it prevented a peasants’ revolution."66  However, while the political realm directly benefited, this was too high of a price for economic development.

One more point should be made in this respect. Huntington draws our attention to the difference that we must make between land reform and agrarian reform. The first refers to a redistribution of land, the second to the technical improvements which increase agricultural productivity.67  Clearly Cuza instituted land reform, but agrarian reform was a more elusive goal. Huntington notes that agrarian reform without land reform can bring about a rise in productivity, but high instability as well. On the other hand, land reform without agrarian reform can increase political stability, but with the price of a decline in agricultural production.68  This was the case of the land reform act of 1864.

The Convention of Paris instituted a very narrow oligarchic regime, far from giving all the social strata the possibility to express themselves. For a population of approximately four million, less than four thousand constituted the electoral body, which means less than one percent.69  These were, almost exclusively, the representatives of the rich landowners, who had an excessive influence on political decisions.

The second element was stipulated, like the first, in the "Developing Status of the Convention of Paris". The college system, based on the voting tax was abandoned in favor of two colleges: one for towns and one for counties and villages. The 160 representatives had to be named70  in a different and inequitable proportion: 94 for the towns and 66 for the county colleges. As M. Draganu underlines,71  the system was discriminatory this time in favor of the town bourgeoisie. This reveals Cuza’s wish to rely politically on this rising and more ‘reformist’ class.

There were primary voters [with a very low tax: 48 lei in the villages and 110 lei in the towns] and direct voters [a higher tax and also a higher education]. The total number of voters was over 500,000.72  At the same time, it seems that a report of one voter to nine inhabitants was likely. In order to complete this picture it would be necessary to estimate the number of the direct voters, a number which is not available. In all cases, there is a radical expansion visible in the political system, although tempered by the tax.

However, the significance of this ‘democratic’ revolution remains small in the circumstances of the time, when Cuza was attempting to create an institutional framework for his actions, in a situation when he would not have accepted a retreat on his reform program [recently started and achievable only through an authoritarian political regime]. As M. Draganu says, Cuza "could not afford the risk of free elections."73  I have already shown some of the methods used by M. Kogalniceanu and his administration to achieve the desired electoral results. Democracy and the free expression of preferences towards a current of ideas, a policy, or a person, mattered very little. It was most important for the ruler to be able to impose his will on a docile Assembly and also to have people and officers faithful to him and to his policy throughout the country. No doubt, the lack of structure of the opposition groups and the monopoly over the state mechanisms facilitated the manipulation of democratic principles. The French methods of Napoleon III were also an inspiration for him.

The presence of peasants on the government candidate lists and the interpretation of the stipulation of the law regarding the tax of the direct voters in favor of the peasants are in accordance with the same policy, which searched for docile elements in order to counteract the success of the opposition.74  Thus the peasants became an easy and efficient weapon in the hands of an authoritarian power, which was showing visible signs of arrogance.75 

This description allows, also, the characterization of the Romanian political class of the time in Samuel Huntington’s terms.76  Due to the middle class who entered the political system, political participation was beyond a doubt moderate. It was not yet modern, because political participation did not reach the democratic level. As was noted above, the degree of institutionalization was greater than the degree of participation. The Romanian political system was in the category of civic polities [opposed to that of praetorian polities]. The conjugation of the two variables gives us a political system of a Whig type.

A few of Huntington’s remarks which complete the picture can help to explain the main evolutionary lines of Romanian society, even in this epoch. In the civic polities, "the political institutions are not powerful enough to establish the basis of a legitimate political order."77  Another remark deserves attention, that there is no direct connection between the development of a civic order and social or economic modernization. "A country can be well developed on the political realm, with modern political institutions, but it can be at the same time very slow in the modernization process.78  It is a remark which must be remembered, so we do not deceive ourselves that Romania is/was modern because it has/had modern political institutions.

Huntington also adds that in the Whig type of political system, "the dominant political institution is, usually, the parliamentary assembly with its representatives elected as a result of a limited electoral process."79  It was not the case during the authoritarian rule of Alexandru Ioan Cuza, with only the semblance of a parliamentary system. Nevertheless, the observation of the American political analyst suggests that this type of system is directed, in one way or another, towards a parliamentary system.

This coalition is also explained by the political struggle on the vital matter of land reform between a modernizing ruler and the rest of the political class. The Romanian case contains the classic paradox, which appears in the confrontation between traditional pluralism and modernizing despotism.80  This political battle envisages the representatives of the old traditional political value, the conservatives, in the activity of embracing the values of constitutional liberalism. They are against the reforms, invoking against them the traditional liberties, the historical and legitimate institutions of the country. They may even become revolutionaries.81  It is surprising to see that the members of the dissolved Parliament actually had the idea of a revolution in mind as a means to overthrow the Monarch.82  I believe, therefore, that all these short considerations could throw a different light on the ‘monstrous’ coalition, which came out of the Legislative Assembly, and represented its spirit.

 1Laurentiu Stefan, New Europe College Fellow, Lecturer, Faculty of Political Science, University of Bucharest.

 2Nicolae Sutu, Notions statistiques sur la Moldavie, Iasi, 1849, p. i.

 3Ibid, p. ii.

 4Ibid, p. iii.

 5Ibid, p. 106.

 6Ibid, p. 110.

 7Ibid, pp. 104-105.

 8Ibid, p. 110.

 9Ibid, p. 113.

 10Ibid, pp. 121-122.

 11Ibid, p. 158.

 12Ibid.

 13G. Zane, Studii, Editura Eminescu, Bucharest, 1980, p. 166.

 14Vlad Georgescu, Istoria romanilor de la origini pina in zilele noastre, Humanitas, Bucharest, 1992, p. 200.

 15Ion Ghica, quoted in Zane, supra note 12, p. 216.

 16For a detailed analysis of the message, see ibid, pp. 158-159.

 17Ibid, p. 164.

 18Ibid.

 19Ibid, p. 210.

 20Ibid, p. 177.

 21Ibid, p. 217.

 22Constantin C. Giurescu, Viata si opera lui Cuza-voda, Editura Stiintifica, Bucharest, 1966, p. 382; Zane, supra note 12, p. 222.

 23Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 393.

 24Samuel Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, Yale University Press, 1961, p. 344.

 25Ibid, p. 346.

 26Ibid, pp. 347-348.

 27Ibid, p. 344.

 28Ibid, p. 345.

 29Georgescu, supra note 13, p. 194.

 30Ibid, p. 217.

 31Huntington, supra note 23, p. 388.

 32Ibid. p. 389.

 33An article from the French press, on October 15, 1864 argued that the rural law violated not only the Constitution, but also the "elementary principles of the civil rights law, which can be found even in despotic countries." Quoted in Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 317.

 34Ibid, p. 247.

 35This is the expression used by Giurescu, ibid, p. 269.

 36Ibid. p. 305.

 37For examples see, ibid., p. 313.

 38See note 4 in Giurescu, ibid, p. 219.

 39Ibid, p. 303-5.

 40Ibid, p. 307.

 41Ibid, p. 306.

 42Ibid, p. 269.

  43Ibid.

  44Ibid, p. 313.

 45Ibid, p. 396.

 46Ibid, p. 392.

 47Ibid, p. 420.

  48Ibid, p. 282.

  49Ibid, pp. 71-73.

  50Ibid, pp. 276-277.

  51Ibid, pp. 343 and 348

  52Ibid, p. 241.

  53Ibid, p. 403

  54Ibid, p. 404.

  55Georgescu, supra note 13, p. 190.

  56Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 420.

  57Ibid, p. 382.

  58Ibid, p. 386.

  59Ibid.

  60Ibid, p. 392.

  61Ibid, p. 397.

 62Ibid, p. 173; see also Cuza’s Constitutional project from 1863, ibid., p. 186.

 63Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 275.

  64Ibid.

  65Huntington, supra note 23, p. 374.

  66Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 286.

  67Huntington, supra note 23, p. 375.

  68Ibid.

  69Gheorghe L. Bratianu, Sfatul domnesc si Adunarea starilor in Principatele Romane, Editura Enciclopedica, Bucharest, 1995, p. 294; Tudor Draganu, Incepturile si dezvoltarea regimului parlamentar in Romania pina la 1916, Dacia, Cluj, 1991, p. 149.

 70Draganu, supra note 68, pp. 159-160.

  71Ibid.

  72At the plebiscite, more than 750,000 votes were cast, Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 248, Draganu asserts there were 570,690.

  73Draganu, supra note 68, p. 166.

 74Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 308.

  75Draganu, supra note 68, p. 170.

  76Ibid, see pp. 78-80.

  77Ibid, p. 83.

  78Ibid, p. 84.

  79Ibid, p. 82.

 80Huntington, supra note 23, p. 160.

  81For the historical examples see Ibid.

  82See D. Ghica’s letter quoted in Giurescu, supra note 21, p. 238.