Tour of Communism Reservations

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Reserve a fascinating walking tour through Bucharest’s Communist history and landmarks, with a knowledgeable, English-speaking guide.


About the tour

In this 3-hour walking tour of Bucharest, you learn about:

  • violent beginnings of Communism
  • forced nationalization and demolitions
  • second largest administrative building in the world
  • the unfinished academy for the illiterate
  • hidden churches
  • places of Communist torture and investigation
  • the fall of Communism in Revolution Square

What others think about the tour


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If you’ve been to the tour already, we would appreciate your honest feedback.

Press reviews

BBC (English)   |   La Presse (French)   |   Bazavan (Romanian)

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Living history and the exportation of minorities in Communist Romania

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I’ve been fortunate enough to sometimes have guests on the Tour of Communism who experienced the horrors of Communism first-hand. They, of course, have not been so fortunate, but having the opportunity to learn from real people rather than from books is always great for a tour guide (as well as other guests on the tours).

I’ll share two personal stories from real guests on my tours. Coincidence or not, both families were Romanian Jews. I will not disclose their real names, but use nicknames instead.

In the first story, Isaac, a Romanian-Jew in his late 70s, told me how he left the country when he was a child. His father and family have survived the anti-Semitic persecutions of World War II, only to have their business (a printing house) confiscated by the Communist regime. Soon after, they were constrained to “donate” their house to the Romanian Communist authorities, in exchange for being permitted to flee the country. In fact, many Jewish families (but other minorities, as well, particularly Germans) were “encouraged” by local authorities to emigrate to their so-called “country of origin” (a complete nonsense, since many were born in Romania, and they had Romanian citizenship). The Communist authorities feared that a “too cosmopolitan” society might mean trouble for the regime, since different ethnic groups may still maintain an allegiance to foreign countries, so they may spread dangerous opinions, which contradicted the universal truth imposed by the totalitarian regime.

This was Isaac’s first trip back to Romania, after fleeing the country as a child with his father. He came back to visit his birthplace, and also to see their family’s house, now in a derelict state and inhabited by people they don’t know. I told him he could get the house back, but he replied with a content and nostalgic smile that he has no interest to do so. He was impressed with the progress Bucharest has been making in all these years, but his rupture with Romania was too abrupt and violent to justify looking back at his life here or considering moving back.

The second guest, a woman in her 60s by the name of Liz, had a strikingly similar story. Her father, a Jewish clock-maker and jeweler, and her mother, a house-wife, barely survived the Holocaust and escaped from labor camps set up in Transnistria. Unfortunately, the Communist regime just brought about more persecutions. Her father was imprisoned after his neighbors told the secret police he is hiding gold in the basement of his house. Owning gold (except for wedding rings) or foreign currency was considered a crime under Communism, and would get people arrested on the spot and labeled as “exploiters of the working class” or “black market dealers”. Even worse, the crime was not real, as he didn’t really have any gold hidden in his basement, but this made very little difference for the Communist authorities. He was released from prison after a friend policeman insisted, and he was told it would be better for him to leave the country. Of course, before leaving, he had to “donate” his house and all his belongings to the Romanian state. Meanwhile, his daughter, Liz, a child in primary school, was being disgraced in front of the entire school by having her title of “pioneer” and her red scarf removed, and being called a “traitor”. (Pioneers were a Communist Youth Organization that every school-aged child in Romania had to join. Their mandatory uniform was a white shirt, blue skirt/pants and red scarf). With nothing left, Liz’s family left the country for Israel with just 2 suitcases.

Later on, Romanian authorities started treating non-Romanian ethnics as goods by exporting them to their “countries of origin” in exchange for cash. If you want to hear the full story, join our Tour of Communism or the more recent Jewish Trail (a 3-hour walking tour about the history of the Jewish community in Bucharest).

The Legacy of the Communist Nationalization

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We’ve written about the Communist Nationalization before. The confiscation of private property more than 60 years ago by the Communist authorities still has a very painful legacy today, as the folks from the “Bucharest Housing Stories” project show in this 3-episode documentary. A toxic mix of confusing legislation, corruption, neglect, and administrative indolence still creates many social tensions today, as squatters occupy abandoned property (episode 1), owners reclaim their houses (episode 2), and tenants are evicted on the streets (episode 3).

Watch the 3 episodes with English subtitles below, and join one of our upcoming walking tours of Communism to witness more experiences like these:

How Ideology Recycles Statues

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If you’ve taken a stroll through Bucharest’s Revolution Square, you might have noticed this daring gentleman riding his horse:

New statue of Carol I
New statue of Carol I

This was King Karl I (in Romanian, Carol I), who ruled Romania for almost 48 years (from 1866 to 1914). However, you should know that what you see is not the original, but merely a copy. The original statue that used to be placed here was designed by Croatian sculptor Ivan Meštrović, and looked slightly different.

Old statue of Carol I
Old statue of Carol I

So what happened to the original? In the wake of World War II, as the communists came to power, they started destroying all symbols that reminded people of the “old world”. This included any monuments dedicated to monarchs or statesmen that the communists deemed as “bourgeois”, “class enemies” or “opponents of socialism”. Hence, the statue of Carol I was destroyed during the night of December 30-31 1947, following the forced abdication of the last king of Romania, King Michael I. Another sculptor witnessed the destruction: the horse was tied to a tank, and pulled down from the pedestal, and then the statue was dragged through the streets to a warehouse.

However, this was not the end of the statue. The metal has been recycled by the communists and used to build another statue, in line with the new regime and ideology: the statue of Lenin, designed by sculptor Boris Caragea, and placed for many years in front of the communist printing house (“Casa Scânteii”).

Statue of Lenin (from recycled bronze)
Statue of Lenin (from recycled bronze)

Of course, the Anti-communist Revolution of December 1989 brought a similar end to Lenin’s statue: it was pulled down from its pedestal using a construction crane, and stored in a museum warehouse outside Bucharest. Ironically, the guy who pulled down the statue – Gheorghe Gavrilescu – was a representative of the working class, which Lenin claimed to fight for. Even more ironically, Gavrilescu committed suicide just 4 years later, after becoming disillusioned with the newly installed Neo-Communist regime in Romania.

Enjoyed this article? Listen to more Communist stories and see Bucharest’s landmarks in one of our upcoming walking tours!

The Cynicism of Nationalization

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We’ve written about nationalization before (i.e. the confiscation of private property done by the Communist administration in Romania). It was a painful experience for many thousands of middle class and upper class citizens (as well as many lower class, despite contrary Communist propaganda), who were left over night without any property, and labeled as criminals, saboteurs and “exploiters of the working class”. It wasn’t just buildings, factories and land that were confiscated, but also means of production and livestock (such as oxen, cattle, carts or horses that were confiscated from well-off peasants). However, the account below, given by Pavel Stefan, Romania’s communist Minister of Internal Affairs between 1952-1953, offers proof of the cynicism behind this indiscriminate measure taken by the communists:

There was an attorney called Calota, who helped us (author’s note: the Communists) a lot in 1945. He was arrested because he was a member of the National Peasants’ Party, and his house was confiscated. I asked him why he was arrested, maybe he told something he shouldn’t have. He told me he didn’t. Then, I decided to call Gheorghe Pintilie (author’s note: the general director of Securitate, i.e. the Secret Police), and ask him, because he personally knew Calota very well. Pintilie replied: “Who knows how many people we arrested, just because we needed their homes!?”

Want to hear more Communist stories? Join us on our upcoming walking tours!

Doftana Prison: A Grim Reminder of Political Persecution

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Doftana Penitentiary, located about 1 hour drive north of Bucharest, is the ultimate paradox in Romanian history. Having served as a detention center for many of the early Communists during the inter-war period (including the first Communist rulers of Romania: Gheorghe-Gheorghiu Dej and Nicolae Ceausescu), it soon turned into a tool of revenge against the political elite that opposed Communism. Today, it lies in complete ruin, completely forgotten by most Romanians. This article is an attempt to do it some justice.

Built as a fortress and opened in 1895, Doftana Prison has long served as a detention center for political prisoners, despite the seemingly democratic regime that ruled Romania prior to 1946, when Communists took over power. The prison was used until 1960, when it was turned into a museum. This is where many protesters from the Peasant Uprising in 1907 were incarcerated (peasants revolted violently against the socio-economic regime that doomed them to poverty and pseudo-enslavement). This is also where some of the Fascist thought leaders in Romania, such as Corneliu Zelea Codreanu or Horia Sima, served time. By the time the Communist movement was banned from Romania in 1924, Doftana Prison already had a tradition as a detention center for political prisoners, so it became the main destination for many of persecuted underground communists during the interwar period. One of the first Communist figures to spend time (and eventually die of pneumonia) at Doftana was Max Goldstein, the mastermind behind the first terrorist attack against the Romanian Senate.


In the early hours of November 10th, 1940, a powerful earthquake struck Romania, severely damaging Doftana Prison, and killing and injuring more than 300 prisoners. Some of the Communist leaders who were imprisoned here at that time, including Ilie Pintilie, Andrei Prot, Ion Herbac, Ioan Galuzinschi, Alexandru Niconov, were killed by the rubble resulting from the earthquake. At the time of this earthquake, the prison had already been affected by two previous smaller-scale earthquakes: one in 1929, and one in October 1940. Gheorghe-Gheorghiu Dej, the indisputable leader of the Communist movement, who was locked at that time in Doftana for his role in the railway workers’ uprising of 1933, has appealed to the prison administration for the relocation of the prisoners, considering the prison to be too damaged to be safe. The administration rejected his plea. It is said that Gheorghe-Gheorghiu Dej had an opportunity to escape right after the earthquake, when the cell where he was locked collapsed, leaving him injured on the ground, outside the prison walls. However, he preferred to help the other inmates get out of the rubble produced by the earthquake


Dictator Nicolae Ceausescu was also imprisoned here for a couple of years, and also spent time in the infamous H cells, which were used for punishment. Another wave of political prisoners was incarcerated at Doftana in 1935 and 1937, after violent strikes by industrial workers in Bucharest and Ploiesti (the oil center of Romania).


Prison conditions were tough, and human rights were often overlooked by the administration. Prisoners were served only some polenta and basic vegetable soup. They were routinely beaten up using batons, or kept naked and barefooted in cold weather. Communists, in particular, were beaten until they would renounce their communist ideals and beliefs. Cells had no furniture or carpets, and were routinely soaked in cold water. As a result of the rough conditions, several early Communists died at Doftana, including Fonaghi, Lisavoi, Smatoc, Mironiuc, Sevcencu, and Onofrencu.


Despite all this, the prison became an underground communist “university”, where political prisoners received training from other Communist Party leaders, including the teachings of Marx and Lenin, the history of USSR or of the Communist Party, as well as political economics and philosophy. Many of the propaganda materials were smuggled in by new prisoners, and distributed incognito from cell to cell. Doftana Prison is also considered responsible for the radicalization of many of the early Communists, who re-joined the ranks of the illegal Communist Party as soon as they were released.


After passing the main gate, newly arrived prisoners had to go through a name call, typically accompanied by physical violence by the guards. The prison warden at that time, Savinescu, would order the more unruly prisoners to be locked up in the so-called “H” section or in the dark cells (cells without any natural light). After the name call, prisoners would go through a body check, where any precious objects would be confiscated by the prison staff.


The prison is shaped as a horse-shoe, with a garden in the middle, which was taken care of by one of the Communist prisoners, Ion Galuzinschi, who ended up dying in prison after 15 years of detention. It had a total of 308 cells, distributed into 8 sections (named A-H): 3 naturally-lit and 5 dark.


The naturally-lit cells were reserved for prisoners with sentences shorter than 1 year, and were located in sections A, B, and C. Each section had a 3 floors, totaling 63 cells. The natural light came from the inner courtyard through huge, barred windows, which are now broken. Section A housed the prominent leaders of the Communist movement: Gheorghe-Gheorghiu Dej, Chivu Stoica, Emil Bodnaras, and Lazar Grunberg. Section B was dedicated to those sentenced to hard labor after the strikes of 1935-1938. Prisoners locked up there were subjected to hunger, as they were only allowed to receive 3 kilos of food per month.


Section F was presumably the worst section, as it featured the dirtiest and darkest isolation cells. Vasile Luca, one of the early communist leaders, is said to have spent time in the F cells, after an altercation with one of the guards.


The H section was dedicated to the punishment of rebellious prisoners. It had 40 small, completely dark cells with absolutely no furniture inside. The only allowed accessories were a wooden bowl, a wooden spoon, and an empty metal can that would serve as a toilet. The floors of the H cells were intentionally kept wet by the guards, to make life even more difficult for prisoners. The punishment usually lasted between 2-3 months. Food for the H cell tenants typically consisted of a very salty soup and a slice of polenta. H cell prisoners wouldn’t receive any food for two days every week.


Prisoners were allowed to have a 30-minute long between two of the prison walls. Prisoners who were caught sharing cigarettes or food with others would be punished by being sent to dark cells.The prison lazaret was poorly equipped, and anybody who had to use it would risk death from further infection or medical mistreatment.


A hunger strike was organized during the winter of 1922-1923 by a group of 25 political prisoners. The prison ward retaliated by locking the protesters up in abandoned and unheated cells that had no windows. After 4 days, the freezing prisoners were released from these cells, and eventually granted a milder treatment. Prisoners received the right to work in a prison workshop in 1924, but this right would soon be revoked one year later, after altercations between prisoners and guards.


The prison ward Cristescu introduced the so-called “silence rule”, which banned prisoners from talking to each other. This rule was abolished in April 1936, after protests by the prisoners. Until its abolition, prisoners would communicate through hand gestures or Morse signals.


Prisoners who died during their detention were buried in unmarked graves in an improvised cemetery just outside the prison walls. The cemetery was known among inmates as “The Three Plum Trees”.

Doftana Prison became a place of pilgrimage during the regime of dictator Nicolae Ceausescu. It was regularly used as a ceremonial site for the students joining the Pioneers organization or the Communist Youth Organization. Ceausescu himself used to visit the prison museum quite often, and was received enthusiastically by locals and welcomed with red-carpet ceremonies. Despite being declared a historic monument, the prison is now a complete ruin, having suffered damages during the earthquakes of 1940, 1977, as well as during the winter of 2011, when the massive snowfall caused the roof to collapse.


According to estimates, the prison is valued at about 1.2 million euro. Some investors were interested in buying the building and turning it into a medical clinic or into a modern hotel that would still preserve the prison feeling, but none of these plans came through. In the meantime, the building continues to decay slowly but surely, exposed to the natural elements and to ignorant locals who steal construction material or scrap metal from its structures.

For more pictures of Doftana Prison, visit:


One of our readers has shared this amazing video filmed using a drone:

Want to hear more Communist stories? Join us on our upcoming walking tours!

Tour of Communism Featured on BBC

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We’re pleased to announce that we’ve been recently featured on BBC:

Yet while the wounds haven’t healed for many Romanians, the growing number of tourists that today visit Romania, and in particular its capital Bucharest, are keen to find out more about life in the former Socialist Republic of Romania

As a result, over the past two years, Romanian entrepreneurs – most who were only children at the time of the 1989 revolution – are starting to organise “communism tours” for foreign visitors. The tourists typically come from across Europe, the US, Japan, China and Israel.

Read the full story here.

How Communists Forced Romania’s Last King to Abdicate

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The Romanian Communist Party officially came to power in 1946, after being invited to join a broad coalition of various political parties aimed at overthrowing the Romanian Fascist government. Although weak and insignificant on the political spectrum, the Communist Party managed to systematically penetrate and hijack political institutions one by one, culminating with the falsification of election results in November 1946, and forcing the last king of Romania, Michael I, to abdicate.

King Michael I
King Michael I

The former king (who lived in exile throughout the Communist regime, only to return to Romania recently) told the story of those events in an interview by Mircea Ciobanu (“Conversations with King Michael I of Romania”, 1992):

So, on December 29th, Negel called in to inform us that Groza (a.n. the interim prime-minister of Romania) urgently summoned us in Bucharest, to discuss an important family matter. We arrived at the house on Kiselleff Street. We didn’t wait too long before Groza showed up, together with Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej (a.n. the general secretary of the Communist Party). We entered the reception room, we seated ourselves, and after not too long, Groza said with a joking smile: “We came here to discuss about an amiable divorce”. We didn’t really understand what he wanted. “Which divorce are you talking about?”, I asked. Then, Groza engaged in an endless and convoluted explanation, telling us that we live a very critical political moment, that the Great Powers are waiting, that the monarchy is no longer needed, and it’s a barrier to the true democratization and modernization of the country, and so on — I don’t even remember all the details. Then he stopped his convoluted explanation, and handed me a piece of paper. I took it and skimmed through it. When I finally understood what this was about, I protested, especially since they required my immediate compliance. I told Groza and his companion that I cannot give an answer on the spot, and that the whole Romanian people should be consulted on such an important matter as the abdication of the king, since only the people can decide if the Constitution should be modified or not. They retorted that there is no such time for subtleties. “The people have become used to loving you. Now, they need to learn how to love us.” I asked them to give me the document, so I can read it in a quiet place, and I retreated to my office.

Petru Groza
Petru Groza

I called up Negel and Ioanitiu, who were in the house, waiting in the hallway to speak to me. They told me in an alarmed voice that the phone lines have been cut, that the palace guards have been replaced with soldiers from other regiments, and that we are the target of some heavy artillery troops, which are ready to fire at any given moment. That was the moment when I understood that there wasn’t much that could be done. I read the document and returned to the reception room. I tried to deal with the two on a rational basis, but there was no way to reach a common agreement. In fact, the Constitution that I’ve just mentioned seized to have any sort of influence on them a long time ago. They soon turned to blackmailing. They told me that any delay in signing the paper meant that members of the government, Communists included, would need to order the execution of more than a 1,000 students that have been arrested recently, in order to counteract any potential opposition. After I finally signed the document, Groza approached me with a very large and good-humored smile, and — thinking this would be a great joke — asked me to touch the pocket of his vest. He told me: “Touch it!”. He had a gun in the pocket. Then he turned to my mother, and explained to her: “It’s just so that I don’t have the same fate as Antonescu” (n.a. Ion Antonescu, the former Fascist leader of Romania during World War I, was arrested, tried, and executed after the new coalition government was set up and Romania switched sides to fight against Nazi Germany).

The king soon fled the country to Switzerland, where he lived most of his life.

Want to hear the full story? Join us on our upcoming walking tours!