President’s message at commemoration event for victims of 1946–1947 famine

We have gathered here to remember one of the greatest tragedies our people has gone through.

The famine of 1946–1947 affected hundreds of thousands of people and led to the loss of 200,000 lives. Figures that horrify us even today, but which cannot fully encompass the trauma endured by parents and children, young and old.

All communities of our country suffered, without exception, especially since Moldova was the most affected region in the entire Soviet Union. In the wake of this calamity, families were torn apart, children were orphaned, and entire villages were overwhelmed by grief. Villages like Mingir.

Here, around 1,400 people died – almost half of the population at that time.

The commemorative plaques consecrated today in the cemetery restore the dignity of people who were denied it when their lives were cut short too soon. Because in those years, death had become so omnipresent that those who passed away were buried in haste, without a cross, without a service. A silent pain that we can barely imagine. The famine was triggered by a drought. But it was turned into a large-scale tragedy by the criminal decisions of the Stalinist regime. Even when the land yielded nothing, people were forced to give everything they had – or even what they no longer had – down to the last crumb.

The harvests, the reserves, the seeds – everything was taken. Without mercy, without soul. The Stalinist regime cynically used the famine to trample human dignity, pushing people to the edge of survival and, for very many, beyond it.

We speak about this turning point in our history for those who are no longer with us. For their suffering. But also for those who survived and carried for decades the consequences of those losses and the effects of the famine on their health.

We do this for our children and grandchildren, so that they understand how precious and fragile freedom is, and what can happen once it is lost. And because these lessons cannot be left only in books, but must be lived and understood, it is entirely fitting that here, in Mingir, there should be a Museum of the Famine. A place where people can learn, can understand, and can feel what happened. Because this community has borne the burden of those years of suffering perhaps more than any other.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Today we are facing a war for the truth.

There are voices – including in Moldova – that glorify the Soviet past and refuse to call the aggressor by its name, when we speak both about the past and about the present. This is, in fact, another form of aggression against those who endured famine and humiliation.

An aggression against those who, although they survived, could not speak openly about the torment they went through, being forced to remain silent for decades or to recall those moments of horror only in whispers.

That is why today, when we have the privilege of speaking without fear, we must speak for those who can no longer do so. Only in this way can we ensure that lies will not replace the truth. And it is the responsibility of each of us to keep this truth alive. In this regard, we can all follow the example of Mr. Iacob Lupanciuc, who gave every victim in Mingir a name.

Through his work, he shows us how important it is not to let time cover the traces of those who passed through these places and not to allow silence to erase what must be spoken.

To bring back into our collective consciousness people who, for far too long, have remained only in the memories of their loved ones.

Ladies and gentlemen,

The truth about the years of famine is not easy. But it is necessary. Because the truth does not wound – the truth heals. When the truth is spoken, even after decades, it brings justice.

The truth helps us understand what happened – and especially why it happened.

It helps us not to forget.

It helps us not to repeat.

Above all, only the truth makes us free.

Thank you!