The Message of a Patriot’s Son

I am Cezar, the son of a true patriot. A patriot during a time when any mistake meant execution. I was raised and educated in the spirit of supreme love and devotion to my country.

Last night, my father came to me again in a dream. Just as he did in 2016, when, on the night before the fire that destroyed my house, he showed me in a dream how my family’s home would burn. I was fighting against some corrupt individuals who had plundered the country. And the next day, my house burned down completely… My father watched over me from above, and that’s how I managed to escape with my life…

Last night, my father appeared to me again in a dream, after many years of silence. In the movie of my consciousness, transmitted by my father, I saw military planes flying with their fuselages upside down. The bellies of the planes were facing the sky! And beneath them, there was hell. Everything was burning in the aftermath of explosions… The war was tearing apart the flesh of those killed. Infants, mothers, fathers, elderly, young people—all were blending their flesh with the rubble and the fire of bombs… My nightmare had no “sound.” It was a silent, short film that I watched together with my father, who held me in his arms with his parental love!

I woke up from what might be a premonitory dream. I don’t know; we’ll see. What’s certain is that I woke up with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes and soul. I woke up with images of December 1989. Like me, who was there in the streets, the survivors of the “Barricade” at University Square and Sala Dalles still have the blood spilled in the fight for our freedom imprinted on their memories… I don’t have a “Revolutionary Certificate.” It never even crossed my mind to ask for one, as the Securitate-judge Marian Enache did. Out of respect for people, for my father, for myself. For my country! Because…

Because my father’s and my revolution began earlier! My father was one of the greatest unsung patriots of this nation. That’s all! If there hadn’t been patriots within the country’s structures, the revolution would never have happened.

In 1988, as a kid, I used to go to the American Library, where I had a subscription. I would borrow a specific book, the title of which my father would give me. I would bring the book to my father, who, in turn, would pass it on to General Stănculescu. Yes, the one blamed and accused of murder! Inside that book, certain passages, phrases, sentences, or words were very subtly underlined, with “invisible ink.”

In October 1989, my mission as a courier of freedom’s books ended. Only November separated the beginning of the December 1989 Revolution. A revolution that had been prepared in advance; otherwise, the blood of the martyrs and the Revolution itself would have been defeated…

With a heart full of pain, I think of this December 2024.
Iohannis and the Constitutional Court want to kill our hope! They orchestrated a coup d’état!
I thank them for the coup d’état! They made me even more determined! Because within me is the genetic legacy left by my father. My father, who, at the age of 61, died under highly suspicious circumstances, after surviving the December ’89 Revolution, which he helped prepare, protect, and fight for…

I am Cezar Marin, my father’s son… And I will fight! I will not give up! Through my publications, Ziarul Operativ and Analize Strategice și Informații, of which I am the founder, I will expose the truths as they are, about all those who threaten the freedom and welfare of the Romanian people. I hold my daughter in my arms as I say this to you, and I keep my father in my heart and soul.

I cannot let traitors led by Iohannis steal my hope and my right to a normal and decent life! Because it’s also my daughter’s life…