“There is a lot of hate in this campaign. I have received threats personally, and been told pro-Europeans should be thrown through a window,” says Simena Trif, coordinator of Dan’s campaign in the area. “The current situation is the fault of the political authorities who have not taken the necessary steps to prevent extremism spreading in Romania.”
David Milea, 29, says he wanted to protect “the right to speak” in the face of extremists who want to take over. “Simion is just a populist. The big dangers with him are [losing] the funds from Europe and also switching more to the Russian side.”
Again, the fear of a return to Romania’s past oppression lies just under the surface, even for the young. “I just want to be free to choose everything I want to do,” says Diana Ghita, 27. “I never lived through Ceaușescu’s time but I can’t stop thinking about how we could end up in the same situation, not be able to do a lot of things, again.”
As the marchers enter the citadel and pass Unification Hall, their pace slows to a respectful stroll and they fall quiet. Once outside the citadel walls again, they stop to listen to pro-Dan speeches in front of a memorial to 18th-century resistance fighters rebelling against Austro-Hungarian, watched by three relaxed gendarmes.
As the sun sinks lower and gathering breaks up, a young boy with a European flag wrapped around his shoulders, walks away with his brother and father. He has a recorder in his hands, and is playing Ode to Joy, the European Union’s official anthem.
Dragoș Ursu, a historian at the National Museum of the Union in Alba Iulia, helped to organize the march. He worries about an “economic meltdown” if Simion wins — the government already projects a 7 percent budget deficit this year, prompting fresh warnings of a downgrade from rating agencies.“We are here to save whatever can still be saved,” he says.
Whoever wins the presidency on Sunday, saving Romania’s tattered democracy will be a far harder task.