Three weeks ago, when the Nobel committee awarded its literature prize to Romanian writer Herta Muller, it lauded her courageous and unflinching fictional portraits of "daily life in a stagnated dictatorship" in communist Romania. What they did not mention, however, was Muller's ongoing nonfictional critique of the leadership of post-communist Romania.
Only days after she won the Nobel, Muller, who now lives in Germany, blasted her homeland for not having broken more completely with its communist past. In a stunning series of confrontations in December 1989, the dictator Nicolae Ceausescu was overthrown and executed. Twenty years later, Muller said, as many as 40% of the people in power in contemporary Romania are veterans of the Securitate, the dreaded communist-era secret police.
Two years ago, she published a scathing essay in a Frankfurt newspaper accusing the country she fled in 1987 of "collective amnesia."
"In Romania," she wrote, "they're pretending that [the past] disappeared into thin air." This amnesia, she said, allows the "old mentality" to function in "new methods."
Last week, as a guest of the Romanian government, I visited Bucharest for the first time since 1998, and I couldn't help but think of Muller's critique.
I saw how much things had changed in the decade since I had last been there. A higher quality of living for the lucky few, significantly worse traffic congestion and a seemingly exponential rise in the number of people who speak proficient English.

