BUCHAREST: As Chile’s former dictator, General Augusto Pinochet, under house arrest outside of London, awaits a final decision on whether he is to be extradited to Spain to face charges of having committed crimes against humanity, Romania has tried and convicted one of its own military leaders for his role in the massacre of civilians in the city of Timisoara ten years ago. The confused reaction to this verdict should, perhaps, give pause to all those who think that putting the past on trial is a straightforward thing.

Generals Atanase Stanculescu and Mihai Chitac were found guilty of ordering the killings of dozens of innocent people in Timisoara in 1989. Both were sentenced each to long prison terms. The rulings were met with fierce criticism by some journalists and politicians but were enthusiastically welcomed by others. Undoubtedly, these verdicts will remain divisive in a society not yet able to come to terms with its past.

The story of General Stanculescu, sentenced to 15 years in prison, reads like a cheap novel, with treason thrown into the mix. The tall, good-looking officer was among Nicolae Ceausescu’s closest aides. As the uprising against the Ceausescu regime broke out in December 1989 in Timisoara, Stanculescu (together with General Chitac) was dispatched to the city and ordered to suppress all demonstrations by any available means. He carried out these orders ruthlessly, his troops shooting down over 100 unarmed street demonstrators.

Summoned back to Bucharest two days later, Stanculescu apparently had second thoughts about his loyalty to the dictator. He recognized that Ceausescu was doomed. Pretending to have a broken leg, he stalled in making his reappearance. Then, on the 22 December, as crowds stormed the Central Committee headquarters in Bucharest, Stanculescu arranged for a helicopter to rescue Nicolae and Elena Ceausescu from the building’s roof terrace. Minutes before the helicopter took off, Elena told the General, who was wearing a fake plaster cast around his leg: “Dearest Victor, look after my children!”

By then, however, the General had turned coats: he had joined "the people" and the newly-born National Salvation Front. The helicopter was taking the dictator and his wife to prison, not freedom. Within days, Stanculescu was among those masterminding the show-trial of the Ceausescus which ended with their being sentenced to death and executed on the spot. Film of Stanculescu at the time show that he had dispensed with his plaster cast.

Stanculescu’s career boomed. He was appointed industry minister by the new, revolutionary government. A few months later, he supported a group of young officers who called for army reform and the ouster of General Militaru, the then Defense Minister and a suspected KGB agent. Militaru was sacked, but when Stanculescu became minister he cashiered the young officers who had helped him. Reform of the army was put off.

One year later Stanculescu gave up politics and government altogether. He set up a highly profitable arms trading company. Soon he became one of the country's richest tycoons. Now, it seems that the tide has turned against him. But has it?

General Stanculescu has appealed to the Supreme Court to quash his conviction. A big part of public opinion seems to be behind him, believing his trial politically motivated. Of course, many people and especially those who took to the streets against Ceausescu in 1989 feel vindicated his conviction. But many politicians defend Stanculescu; among them, the current Defense Minister Victor Babiuc, former President Ion Iliescu, and most top army officers.

In the wake of the Stanculescu conviction, the Interior Minister reiterated his proposal for a general amnesty for all soldiers involved in the violence of 1989. Supporters of this view argue that General Stanculescu, unlike President Pinochet, was carrying out orders he could not refuse. Later, they add, he voluntarily joined the "Revolution", fought its enemies and contributed to its victory.

Many Romanian Army officers are unhappy with the notion of soldiers being tried for crimes committed while defending the dying communist regime. Yet, this is what every one of Romania’s post-revolutionary governments have promised at one time or another. But these officers (and those who share their views) believe that you cannot assess the deeds of one regime by the standards of another. Again as in Chile, they suggest that, while political regimes are transient, the heart and honor of a nation always rests with its Army. A soldier has a duty just to carry out the orders of his chiefs, no matter who they are and no matter what orders they give.

Stanculescu did just that in 1989 at Timisoara, and he did so again, a few days later, at Ceausescu’s trial. These officers dismiss and mistrust the requirements of universal justice, as embodied in the Nuremberg rulings. Because democratic institutions in Romania have frittered away much of their standing during the almost ten years of postcommunist transition, many politicians tend either to embrace the views of the generals, or, at least, avoid going publicly against them. After all, opinion polls reveal that the Army and Orthodox Church – two hierarchical and traditional organizations – are, by far, the most trusted Romanian institutions.

Time and again, people seek to learn the truth about Romania’s past. But, as that past becomes unearthed and its crimes exposed, many recoil from the consequences. The "original sin" of the Romanian Revolution always looms: most postcommunist institutions were created and later run by people deeply involved in the crimes of the communist regime.

Of course, people, at first, love seeing the truth uncovered and powerful wrongdoers punished. But many would like to see all this while watching TV rather than experience it in real life. Romania will have to decide whether or not it actually wants to have a past before its people can begin to confront and live with theirs.