Freedom is fragile.
It must be defended.

Quo vadis, Europe?
The European Commission is anything but government of the people, by the people, for the people. Behind Trump stand 75 million voters. How many chose Ursula von der Leyen as the president of the Brussels executive?

Three years have passed since the war in Ukraine—an eternity in today’s politics. In just 36 months, power relations have shifted tremendously. The international system is being shaken to its core. Putin has not died of cancer, nor has he been toppled by Western sanctions.

The world is in a state of continuous change. China and Russia are shaking hands; BRICS is flexing its muscles with India and Brazil alongside them. The United Nations has become irrelevant. We are living in the logic of the 19th century, where only great powers matter. We see only raw negotiations between the planet’s colossi. And the world’s hegemons have no friends, only interests.

Fed up with the impotent rhetoric of the Brussels elite, President Trump is negotiating the future of Ukraine. We will likely see a partition—the Lviv-Kyiv area might remain a Western region (but also an American economic colony), while Donbas will be under Moscow’s boot. Spheres of influence have not disappeared.

The British Empire collapsed not because of Hitler’s Germans, nor because of Stalin’s Russia. The primary cause? The maritime power of the United States led by President Eisenhower. The episode known as Suez marked a triumph for post-war America. Today, Great Britain remains an island full of memories.

The new world is shaped by the logic of economic supremacy: rare metals, cheap energy, accessible trade routes. This is not about cynicism, but about realism. Who can formulate Romania’s national interest? We don’t know. We lack a legitimate president, and the ministers of the Ciolacu government are merely failed pantomime actors.

Trump has not forgotten the lesson of failed wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, or Libya—all fought under the banner of democracy. The removal of Saddam Hussein or Gaddafi was followed only by chaos. Anarchy, as Aristotle said, is worse than tyranny.

The future of Ukraine is uncertain. The past? A history marked by the ambitions of Tsars, the Machiavellianism of Stalin, and then Khrushchev’s insolence regarding Crimea. Zelensky’s nationalism is visceral and irrational (while the patriotism of a Georgescu is labeled “fascist” and “anti-European”).

It is rare to encounter a literary debut that shakes the foundations of historiography with such force and refinement as Corneliu Berari does in his monumental work dedicated to the 7th century. In a traditional format, the volume would have easily exceeded a thousand pages—becoming, only half-jokingly, a “blunt object” worthy of the era of warfare it describes. Berari offers us a historical synthesis of rare intellectual acuity, a true tour de force that weaves together archaeology, climatology, geopolitics, and theology into a captivating narrative.

The book focuses on the epochal confrontation between the Byzantine Empire, under the reign of Heraclius (610-641), and the lightning expansion of Islam, placing this clash within the precise context of 7th-century chronology, as revealed by the most recent scholarship (Kaegi, Kennedy, Harper). Berari guides us through key moments: Muhammad’s Hijra in 622, Heraclius’ victory over the Sassanids at Nineveh in 628, followed by the rapid collapse of the Levant after the Battle of Yarmouk (636), and the falls of Damascus (634), Jerusalem (637), and Egypt (641). With the precision of a strategist, the author captures the helplessness of Heraclius—the last Roman Emperor and the first Byzantine Basileus—in the face of what he calls a “world war” of Late Antiquity: an apocalypse of Eastern Christianity, marked by the disappearance of tens of thousands of Christian settlements under the Islamic advance.

However, Corneliu Berari is not content with merely reconstructing great battles. With breathtaking audacity, he questions the Romanian historiographical vulgata, challenging sacrosanct myths such as Daco-Roman Christianity or the size of the Latin-speaking population north and south of the Danube. Is Daco-Roman continuity a reality supported by evidence, or a projection of our desires onto a hazy past? The author offers no easy answers but invites a profound inquiry, supported by primary sources and an exemplary interdisciplinary methodology. From the volcanic eruptions of 535-536, which darkened the skies and weakened the empire, to the withdrawal of Byzantine troops from the Balkans in 614-615—a gesture that left the peninsula vulnerable—Berari constructs a complex narrative where nature, politics, and faith intertwine.

A fervent patriot and Chalcedonian Orthodox Christian, Corneliu Berari proposes a radical reassessment of Romanian ethnogenesis, shifting the focus from the Aurelian Retreat (271-276) to the collapse of the Byzantine order in the 7th century. Balkan Romanity, deprived of the Empire’s shield, nonetheless preserved its Christian identity through Latin words such as “a te ruga” (to pray) or “a te cumineca” (to receive communion)—a subtle yet profound observation. His book, a call to reconsider history as a vortex of chaos rather than a linear continuity, deserves to be translated into English, debated, and awarded by the Romanian Academy.

In a world of hurried simplifications where Wikipedia reigns supreme, Corneliu Berari reminds us of the meaning of true research: exhaustive, uncomfortable, and alive. It is a work that is not read in a single breath—perhaps in ten years, with patience—but which rewards every page with a deeper understanding of our past. A masterpiece that redefines the 7th century and the place of Romanians in the grand history of European civilization.

Romania deserves more than what you see on television today: imposture, helplessness, mediocrity, and scandal. We receive nothing more than—as a Bukovinian entrepreneur once put it—noise without strategy.

People who haven’t worked a single day in the private sector are preparing to run for the presidential elections. Former Securitate informants, plagiarists, or individuals who failed to pass their baccalaureate exam even by the age of 30 will try to sell you illusions.

Our country could rise to the level of Poland if we had a dedicated and prepared team, driven by the ideals of pure—not hollow—patriotism. In thirty-five years, the “brotherhood of thieves” has failed to build even a single metro station at Otopeni Airport or a proper ring road for the Capital. We are vulnerable in the face of crises.

Energy is expensive, we import our food, and Romania is neither educated nor particularly wealthy. Immorality has seeped into schools. Drugs and orgies are present even in the country’s most prestigious high schools. We claim to be the “Garden of the Mother of God,” yet the videochat industry will soon be stronger than agriculture. Highways are collapsing, the health of Romanians is precarious, and our waters and forests are either mismanaged or exploited by foreign firms.

Local entrepreneurs are burdened by aberrant fiscal measures, and the much-touted “digitalization” fails to eliminate nepotism in administration. We are deceiving ourselves. Within a single decade, Romania could be where Poland is today: among the strong, admired, and respected nations.

There is only one condition: that we return to fundamental values, to the immortal principles of Christian Europe: family, life, liberty, property, and solidarity.

We all face difficult decisions. There are only a few days left until we see the final list of candidates for the presidential elections.

I believe today, just as I did ten years ago, that all of Romania’s healthy political energies can be channeled into a patriotic, decent alternative—free from obscure commands and perfectly transparent before the electorate.

It is not enough to penalize those who have governed in recent years. We have a moral obligation to act, to give a chance to the generations to come, to our children. As Iuliu Maniu said: “No sacrifice is too great when it is made for the nation and for the truth.”