On the morning of December 30, 1947, Romania entered one of the most dramatic pages of its modern history. King Michael I was forced to sign the act of abdication in front of the representatives of the communist regime, who were thus consolidating their power. 

From the forced departure into exile to the beginning of a long wandering

Beyond appearances, the moment was by no means a negotiated political decision, but the result of a direct threat. The sovereign had been told that, if he refused to abdicate, one thousand young people would be executed. Under these circumstances, the King was forced to choose between the blood of his people and the crown that rightfully belonged to him.

Later, Michael I would describe that moment as one of the most painful moments of his life. “I had death in my soul,” he would say, summarizing in a few words the tragedy of a generation and the end of a political era. 

With the forced gesture of abdication, a long period of exile began, which would last 43 years. For Romania, the loss of the King meant the brutal break of state continuity, and for him, it meant a life lived far from the country he considered the essence of his personal and public identity.

The sovereign in exile and the constant desire to return home

King Michael’s exile was not one in which he could withdraw peacefully. Throughout this time, his emotional and moral ties with Romania remained alive and profound. All those who knew him during those decades testify that his words, thoughts, and analyses were almost exclusively dedicated to the situation in the country. 

Historian Stelian Tănase, one of those who spoke at length with the sovereign in the 1990s, recounts that the King lived with a lucid nostalgia and with a need to understand in detail Romanian realities.

“He died in ’47 and was reborn after ’89,” remarks Stelian Tănase, emphasizing the way in which the fall of communism reopened for Michael I the chance of reentering history. This symbolic rebirth was fueled not by the desire to return to power, but by the personal and moral need to rediscover his country and its people. The King did not want political positions, but the elementary right to step once more on Romanian soil.

Nevertheless, after the fall of the Ceaușescu regime in December 1989, his return would prove surprisingly difficult and humiliating, marking some of the most controversial episodes of Romania’s post-communist transition.

The troubled years after the Revolution and the fears of the new power in Bucharest

Although the end of the dictatorship seemed to create the premises for a historical reconciliation, the leadership of post-revolutionary Romania, represented by Ion Iliescu, Petre Roman and the then-head of the SRI, Virgil Măgureanu, viewed King Michael’s return as a political threat.

 In the first years after the Revolution, all the sovereign’s attempts to return to Romania were systematically blocked, officially motivated by the need for political stability during a sensitive period.

There is even a question still unresolved: why did the King not enter the country right in the days of the Revolution, since his daughters did arrive in Romania then? According to a discussion he had with Prince Charles of Great Britain, King Michael intended to return immediately. 

His interlocutor’s reply was a mixture of admiration and warning: “You must be very brave to do that now.” Historians still debate what exactly prevented this entry.

The first attempt to return to Romania: Easter of April 1990

In April 1990, King Michael made the first official, public, and documented attempt to return to Romania. His desire was to spend Easter in his native country. The plan was simple and unostentatious: to reach Romania, attend the church service, and meet people. However, on the very day of departure, the authorities in Bucharest announced that his visa had been withdrawn.

At the Geneva airport, the King was forced to publicly express his disappointment. “I am a Romanian citizen who wishes to return to his country. My only concern is not to be mixed up in political matters,” he declared with dignified elegance, according to the volume “Mihai I al României. The King and the Country”, written by Ivor Porter.

Later, Ion Iliescu would explain in a TVR interview that the decision had not belonged to him personally, but had been the result of a unanimous vote in the Executive Bureau of the CPUN. Officially, the sovereign’s arrival had been considered “inappropriate” in the context of political tensions and the ongoing electoral campaign. Unofficially, many historians believe that political fear, not timing, was the real reason for the refusal.

That year, Easter found the King at an Orthodox church in Paris, where he met Stelian Tănase. The historian would later recall the King’s surprise and curiosity, his desire to understand as precisely as possible what was happening in Romania, his careful and meticulous way of listening and asking questions.

A second dramatic attempt: Christmas of December 1990

In December 1990, King Michael, together with Queen Anne and Princess Margareta, tried again to enter the country, this time holding a visa valid for 24 hours. His intention was deeply symbolic: to go to Curtea de Argeș and to pay his respects at the tombs of his ancestors — Carol I and Elisabeta, Ferdinand I and Maria — the sovereigns who built modern Romania.

But, near Pitești, the royal convoy was stopped through a scenario worthy of a tense film. In front of the car in which the King was seated had been placed a truck across the road, completed by a tractor, suggesting the appearance of an accident. 

When the royal vehicles stopped, the sovereign was surrounded by people in uniforms, holding automatic weapons at their chests. The situation was meant to induce panic and to convey the idea of a “crime”, as if the King had entered his own country illegally.

The appearance of French journalists quickly changed the tone. Once the cameras were seen, the weapons disappeared under coats, and the atmosphere became, at least in appearance, less hostile. The King would recount the entire moment in the volume “Conversations with Michael I of Romania”, written by Mircea Ciobanu.

It later became clear that the entire staging sought to convey the idea of an emergency situation in which the sovereign was presented as “guilty” of crossing the border. For almost two hours, a colonel tried to explain to the King that he had entered the country “fraudulently”, although the visa had been officially issued to him.

An episode of official humiliation and royal dignity

The former head of the Royal House, architect Dan Bădic, described with accuracy the atmosphere that reigned during the forced return to the airport. The USLA troops guarded the area, dressed in their black uniforms and with a cold, implacable attitude. The King, Bădic recounts, remained “like a stone statue”, absorbing in silence this historical insult. Only his inner strength revealed his profound suffering, but not humiliation.

According to his account, General Roznoveanu told him bluntly: “Tell Mr. Michael that we want to send him back to Switzerland. We brought a plane for that. If he does not accept, we will take him by force.” It was, probably, one of the most disturbing moments experienced by a former European sovereign in the 20th century, all the more painful since it took place in his own country.

A shameful page and a lesson of dignity for post-communist Romania

The two failed attempts of 1990 remained in history as episodes of political intolerance and institutional fear. But at the same time, they show the extent to which King Michael managed to remain, despite the humiliations, a symbol of dignity and moral balance. Despite the treatment he received, he did not accuse, did not launch attacks, did not claim powers. All he wanted was to see his country again, his people, and his roots.

When, eventually, the 1990s brought official recognition and the possibility of returning, Michael I was welcomed with popular enthusiasm. The tens of thousands of people who greeted him in the streets did not see his political role first, but his tragic destiny and the nobility with which he had carried his exile.

His legacy remains an example of uprightness in a century of political turmoil. From the forced abdication to the return to a country still unsure of its post-communist identity, Michael I traversed history with a dignity rarely encountered. 

His name, now given to many boulevards, streets, and institutions, honors not only a sovereign, but the entire idea of continuity and stability that the monarchy represented for modern Romania.

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