It has been fascinating to watch the development of the media in the post-communist regimes of eastern Europe.

In several instances, steps forward towards the foundation of press freedom have been matched by steps backward, especially, of course, in those countries ruled by Soviet-style (and Russian-sponsored) despots.

Even in countries that have sought to embrace western-style democracy, it has been evident that western-style freedom of expression has been somewhat fragile.

One of the reasons, arguably the overriding reason, is the fact that in most of central and eastern Europe, monarchic dictatorship was replaced by communist dictatorship, so democracy had never previously been allowed to blossom.

Two academics who have examined the media landscape in eastern Europe, Paolo Mancini and Jan Zielonka, argue that democratic institutions and media institutions in the region “emerged simultaneously and interdependently, in a period of rapid and often chaotic reform.”

It means that the kind of democracy evident in the west, underpinned by the rule of law, political pluralism and freedom of speech, did not exist prior to the collapse of communism and is still in its early stages in several states.

One such country is Romania, the subject of a study by Manuela Preoteasa and Andrei Schwartz, which has been published by a new thinktank, the Centre for Media Transparency.

Their report, “The men who bit the (watch) dogs”, comes at a time of internal chaos, with two media tycoons sent to jail, another one facing various criminal charges and the prime minister, Victor Ponta, having been indicted on charges of tax evasion, money laundering, conflict of interest and making false statements.

The study, dealing with newspapers, TV and radio, concentrates on media ownership and follows three broad stages of development: 1990-1999, and a “quasi absence of foreign investment”; 2000-2010, years of ownership opacity, with foreign investors acting as “front operators” for Romanian businessmen; 2011 onwards, a period of disruption with several leading owners facing criminal investigation for a variety of offences.

Even more fascinating than this developing story are the five ownership profiles. Of those, one stands out. It concerns Ronald Lauder, son of the cosmetics tycoon Estée Lauder, who was briefly a defence official in the Reagan administration and US ambassador to Austria.



The authors cite a critic as saying of him: “If you talk about tabloidisation and concentration, we can call Lauder a Murdoch.” He founded the Central Media Enterprise (CME) and, by 1997, it had TV stations in Slovenia, Romania, Slovakia and Ukraine.

In Romania, the CME’s presence was most obvious through PRO TV, the country’s most watched channel that combines entertainment and news, with the accent on the former.



CME entered the Romanian market through Adrian Sârbu, a media affairs minister in Romania’s first post-communist government prior to setting up his own media group.

Sârbu, appointed as chief executive and chairman of CME, described himself as “the only Romanian appointed as a CEO of a publicly listed American company.”

But, in February 2014, Sârbu was charged with tax evasion, money laundering and embezzlement. Lauder withdrew from the board. Sârbu sold all of his shares in CME and withdrew from all positions. And Pro TV was acquired by Time Warner.

In February 2015, Sârbu was detained for 30 days after being charged with tax evasion, money laundering and embezzlement. He has since been released while awaiting trial.

This case history is not, however, unique, which is the whole point of the study. It illustrates the way in which Romania’s media has not only been haunted by its communist past but also penetrated by, and dominated by, foreign capital.

Source: Centre for Media Transparency