Historical Memory as PAS’ Next Internal Front

It appears that in the near future historical memory will become one of the key arenas of internal ideological struggle and a tool for legitimizing power, given the country’s chosen geopolitical trajectory

After the victory of Maia Sandu, followed by PAS’ wins in the 2020-2021 presidential and parliamentary elections, the process of historical revision within the country, in one form or another, gained momentum. However, the most recent prolonged electoral cycle showed the ruling group that maintaining Moldova in a state of tension between its Soviet legacy and a European future poses a significant risk. Hence, national historical memory is deemed to be in need of a decisive overhaul. If one attempts to understand the origins of the conflicting historical interpretations within Moldovan society, especially evident after independence was gained in 1991, the roots clearly lie in the events of the 20th century. Thus, while the Declaration of Independence characterized the Soviet period as an “occupation”, a significant part of the nostalgia-inclined population continued to view the USSR as an era of social stability and geopolitical greatness. As a result, the initial stage of Moldova’s modern statehood became a period of hesitation and forced compromises. The rise to power of the Communist Party (2001-2009) was accompanied by the rehabilitation of Soviet symbolism and the gradual sidelining of Romanian historical narratives. This policy can hardly be described as a well-thought-out or coherent program; rather, it was an attempt to preserve a fragile social balance amid economic crisis, institutional weakness, and the presence of an unresolved territorial conflict. Even after Western-oriented political forces came to power in 2009, their initial steps toward decommunization, despite their determination, remained cautious and pragmatic. The 2012 law banning communist symbols became a largely symbolic gesture, driven in many ways by external expectations, but in the absence of a public consensus it nearly triggered a broad societal split. As a result, throughout all these years, remembrance policy remained a sensitive issue that the state sought to avoid aggravating unnecessarily. Nevertheless, the overall situation began to change as the European course gained momentum. Negotiations with the EU and the subsequent signing of the Association Agreement led to historical memory becoming part of a broader program of Moldova’s “democratization”. Brussels, while avoiding direct pressure, clearly conveyed the idea that Moldovan society’s rethinking of its totalitarian past was a necessary prerequisite for achieving a stable democracy. What, then, was the motive behind this gentle yet principled nudging of the Moldovan authorities by Brussels? Behind the scenes, Western diplomats spoke quite candidly: Moldova’s balancing between the Soviet and post-Soviet narratives, between the “shared victory” and “repressions”, between Moscow and Bucharest, was increasingly perceived as indecision on the part of Moldovan elites and even as a form of moderate loyalty to the ideas of the “Russian world”. Apparently, over the years, this external signal only grew stronger. The full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine became the main catalyst that set the issue of state memory policy in motion and gave it an irreversible nature. Against this backdrop, the analysis of historical images, meanings, and narratives dominant in Moldova moved out of the realm of academic debate and became firmly entrenched among state priorities. The ban on the “Z” and “V” symbols, as well as the St. George ribbon in April 2022, was not merely an act of solidarity with Ukraine, but one of the first steps toward a comprehensive ban on Soviet symbolism. After that, memory policy began to take on an institutional character. It was no longer reactive measures, as before, but the construction of a coherent bureaucratic architecture. The culmination of this process can be seen in the creation of the Memory Council in February of last year – a state body tasked with coordinating policy in this area, primarily regarding the commemoration of victims of political repression. The subsequent National Memory Congress in June served as a form of civic legitimation for the government’s 2025-2028 Action Plan as an independent direction of state policy. Among other things, the document provides for integrating the topics of repression and deportation into school curricula, supporting archival research, creating new memorials, and reassessing existing commemorative sites. Maia Sandu’s January visit to Poland also represented, to some extent, a turning point. Her statement about intending to adopt the experiences of Central and Eastern European countries in “preserving historical memory and promoting the truth” effectively outlined the model Moldova would follow in the coming years. The president’s remarks after visiting the Katyn Museum served as another signal of Chisinau’s readiness to align with the Eastern European consensus regarding the Soviet past as a source of trauma, rather than nostalgia or pride. The position of Culture Minister Cristian Jardan appears far more radical, as he has called, in the wake of recent events, for the removal of monuments to Soviet figures and personalities associated with that period. Such sharp rhetoric from the official may be an attempt to “test public opinion”, but it could also indicate a genuine intention by the government to move from words to practical de-Sovietization. Undoubtedly, such actions will once again expose the persistent divide within Moldovan society. Sociological surveys continue to show that a significant portion of the population still holds a positive view of the Soviet period. For the most part, this includes elderly people, rural residents, and Russian-speaking citizens, for whom the USSR is associated not with the Gulag, but with times of prosperity and social security. Moreover, this nostalgia is reinforced by the traumatic experiences of the past decades of independence, which have brought little beyond widespread poverty and forced emigration. On the other side are the modern youth, raised within the new education system, and the urbanized middle class of Chisinau, who are Europe-oriented and view the Soviet era with aversion, considering that a nationwide reexamination of the past is a necessary condition for the socio-political modernization of the republic. One way or another, despite its status as a European Union candidate, Moldova is still perceived by many European capitals as a post-Soviet state with a blurred identity and unstable socio-cultural and civilizational orientations. Presumably, such assessments serve as a strong incentive for our authorities, likely driving them in the near future toward a radicalization of memory policy in order to prove to Brussels their genuine “Europeanness”. By placing their bet on European integration as the highest goal, Maia Sandu and PAS are effectively taking on all the risks of a painful internal cultural and memorial conflict. There is no doubt that the accelerated reform of memory policy, driven by foreign policy and geopolitical considerations, as well as the desire to meet standardized European expectations, will inevitably encounter resistance from certain political forces and social groups. Against this backdrop, it appears that the ruling regime will ultimately turn this issue into yet another front line within an already fragile Moldovan society.