What I Learned From Living Under a Totalitarian Regime

Did any of it serve me well?

I lived for nine years under Ceausescu’s totalitarian regime in Romania. That may not seem like a great deal, but it was enough to make me who I am today.

Even after thirty years of living in the West, I still find it hard to relate to most people and their worries. When someone talks about their exotic holidays, or how they don’t have enough meat for their barbecue or their petrol hedge trimmer is more powerful than my electric one, I don’t know how to react.

What do you want me to say?

Try having nothing. Try queueing at four in the morning to get milk. Try living without electricity or hot water.

We, who lived through Communism under the Iron Curtain, are fractured, but maybe we’re also better for it. Perhaps we don’t get flustered so easily by the fickle idiocies of the modern world.

My good friend, Don Pavey, used to say that my background gives me an edge. But how? Let’s take a look.

I trust no one

I always overanalyze what people’s motivations are and whether they really like me, or will do what they promised. I think it stemmed from my childhood when all meaning was masked, and you couldn’t trust anyone in case they reported you to the Secret Police.

Authenticity is important to me, and I can’t work out why. Why do I need everyone to be stripped of every layer of bullshit? I don’t trust you unless you’re completely open and have exposed your innermost feelings to me, which is maybe why I’ve struggled in the corporate world.

Verdict: You need to trust people to a certain degree to make friendships, or to progress at work. I can only see a damaging, adverse effect on me here.

All politicians are the same

I never got this left vs. right debate, as in socialist vs. nationalist, the working man vs. the elite. For me, a politician is a politician is a cunt. It’s that simple. Politicians are not interested in you and me. They’re interested in themselves, becoming more affluent, and grabbing more power.

I have met decent politicians, like Vince Cable who helped my family and me quite a bit when we lived in Twickenham (cheers Vince). But, let’s be honest, I wouldn’t be displaced, away from my native country and half of my family, if it wasn’t for politicians, would I?

Verdict: I don’t talk politics. I don’t get involved in political debates. But I also don’t value as much the positive impact of politicians and initiatives, both nationally and locally, so I am missing out.

Authority should be earned

Just because you’re a boss, on paper, doesn’t mean that I respect you as a boss. Just because you’re an expert, on your CV, doesn’t mean I’m going to bow my head to you. And just because you’re a bestselling writer, and you have a Twitter account with millions of followers, doesn’t mean that I should like and retweet everything that you type.

Under Communism, you worked the job the system allocated for you. But it was all about who you knew, more than what you knew. So, my mother had to work extra hard to get somewhere because she didn’t know the right people, while others would twiddle their thumbs. But mum earned respect by working hard and showing what she could do and putting humanity and kindness above profit.

Verdict: Meritocracy is essential, but I’ve seen little sign of it in the Western world. It’s still all about who you know, so maybe I’m wise to it, or jaded. I don’t see this belief as particularly useful to me unless I am the business owner.

Family above all

I see friends as temporary, and despite having had a few good friendships along the way, none of them have lasted. Circumstances change. People get married. Work commitments. Kids. No one will be there for you like family. When I was a kid, my family was close, the only people I could trust with the truth. Then the doors of democracy opened in 1990. In Romania, family took a back seat to the hunt for money.

People now seem obsessed with followers or the number of friends. Why? Are any of them your real friends? How many of your hundreds of Facebook friends genuinely know you? Or are you simply a beautiful picture there to be admired and clicked on?

Verdict: Modern life is fake, like a Getty business image. I think you develop a strong sense of the family unit, or you don’t. So maybe this lesson has served me well.

Life is a battle

I don’t expect a smooth ride as I don’t think I’m entitled to anything. My grandmother’s father died from starvation, having let his children eat the only food that was available. My grandfather fought his entire life against the small-minded idiots who were in charge of the factory where he worked.

My parents came to the UK with a suitcase and a hundred pounds, starting from nothing in their mid-thirties. I am prepared to work hard to get anything. It’s been drilled into me from a young age, from watching and learning from what my family went through, like seeing mum hold down multiple low-paid jobs just to put food on the table.

Verdict: This is maybe where my background gives me an edge because I rarely lose my hunger. I’ve seen too much struggle for me to lie down too long.

Recap

Living under a totalitarian state instilled good values into me. For instance, it made me appreciate the importance of a strong family unit, and I’m resilient, with a strong work ethic. But, in terms of trusting people or seeing the good in them, or relationship-building, I may need some serious help with that.