Mythical Quest: How the Ancient Dacians are Reinterpreted in Modern Romania

His images reveal both a fascination with antiquity, but also a deeper search for identity, as many Romanians project present-day concerns, aspirations, and frustrations onto an idealized vision of their ancient past.

“I first came across a re-enactment festival – something I hadn’t even known existed – along with the whole ecosystem built around it. I immediately felt that this was where my research had to begin. Over time, I attended around 15 such festivals, at least,” Calinescu told BIRN.

“Gradually, I came to understand the phenomenon and saw that these events attract a highly diverse audience, driven by equally varied motivations – from a desire to escape urban life to more extreme, politically charged reinterpretations of history.”

Calinescu later went on to identify and visually document other “Dacian presences” in both history and the contemporary imagination. He photographed sites around ancient Dacian fortresses, as well as tourist areas associated with a supposed “Dacian legacy”.

His work also captures how this heritage is commercially exploited – through the sale of allegedly Dacian-inspired objects – and how a wide range of individuals, from mystics and athletes to yogis and nationalists, construct public narratives rooted in their own interpretations of the past.

When asked to capture Dacia’s presence in several images and phrases from his book, Calinescu chose these:

Ruins. Several remnants of ancient Dacian fortresses lie scattered across the Carpathian Mountains in southeastern Romania, most of them in a poor state of preservation. These fortified sites formed a defensive network serving both military and administrative purposes. Some, such as those later included in the UNESCO World Heritage Sites list, reflect a sophisticated blend of local and Hellenistic architectural influences, underscoring the strategic and cultural importance of the Dacian kingdom prior to its defeat by the Roman Empire.

People. “In the surrounding villages, near the old fortresses, the locals seem to resemble the Dacians the most, without ever claiming that identity themselves,” Calinescu says.

Many people in these areas still live in conditions reminiscent of past centuries, often relying on rudimentary means of subsistence. “There, the dead are buried in the yard, because roads are scarce and winters are harsh … People rely almost entirely on what they can produce themselves, mainly through agriculture.”

‘Weekend Barbarians’. In Romania, more than 20 re-enactment festivals are held each year, recreating the everyday lives of the Dacians as well as their battles with the Romans. These events blend historical performance with spectacle, drawing both participants and spectators into immersive interpretations of the past.

“Re-enactors are, for the most part, people who live in urban environments; their transformation into ‘barbarians,’ as they call themselves, happens only on weekends,” says Calinescu. “They are driven by a passion for history and for nature, especially since the festivals take place outdoors, where they camp in tents and temporarily adopt a lifestyle inspired by antiquity.”

Spectators. “We are a handful of ordinary people, just like any of you, people with families, responsibilities, and jobs, driven not necessarily by a passion for history, but perhaps by a desire to change mindsets. Simple individuals who have taken on the mantle of their ancestors and, for a few moments, become legendary heroes before your eyes – become gods,” reads a message promoting one re-enactment festival.

Tourist sites. Several sites in Romania are believed to be linked to the ancient Dacians and so thought to possess special or even mystical energies.

“However, many of these sites have largely been invented or reinterpreted to attract tourists,” says Calinescu. “For instance, there is a cave that only in recent years has begun to be described as housing Dacian heads, ancient ovens, dwellings, or even the throne of Zamolxe, the supreme god of the Dacians.”

Another frequently visited location is the plateau of the Bucegi Mountains, in central Romania, where a rock formation known as the Bucegi Sphinx attracts visitors. Each year, on a specific day, groups gather there, believing it to be a rare, almost mystical, moment that occurs only once a year and is accessible only to those who are initiated into its supposed significance.

’Dacian’ products. “The myth of the Dacians is also widely exploited for marketing purposes,” says Calinescu. “If you walk into a supermarket, you’ll find at least a few ‘Dacian’ products – cider, jams, beer and more. What’s really being sold is the illusion of authenticity. These are no longer products rooted in our grandparents’ traditions; their supposed origins have been pushed even further back, directly to the Dacians.

“Tourist sites have undergone a similar ‘Dacianization’ alongside a steady rise in nationalist sentiment over the years … Now you have the ‘purest Dacian water,’ the ‘most ozone-rich air,’ the ‘hearth of the Dacians,’ and so on – but all of these are essentially marketing constructs, tools used by the tourism industry to attract customers.”

Right-wing supporters. The Dacian movement in Romania has older roots, gaining traction during the Communist era through Protocronism – an ideological current that claims Romanian cultural and scientific achievements anticipated universal models. Under Communist dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, the Dacian past was heavily idealised to counter Western influence.

“Even today, the Dacians are used by many to construct an opposition to the West – for instance, portraying Dacians as pure, while the West is seen as greedy for our resources,” notes Calinescu.

These narratives have been increasingly adopted by far-right, sovereigntist movements gaining ground in Romania. A prominent figure is Calin Georgescu, who won the first round of the 2024 presidential election before the vote was annulled. He is currently under judicial control and investigation on multiple charges, including actions against the constitutional order, public incitement, the creation of a fascist organisation, and false statements about campaign financing.

Cezar Avramuta, known as the “Dacian Flag Man” (see below) is a well-known supporter of Georgescu who became a symbol of the protests in his support, gaining visibility by climbing quickly to the highest spot above the crowds. Later, he was arrested for putting other people in danger.

Calinescu says a clear distinction must be made between supporters of Romania’s sovereigntist movement and those involved in historical re-enactment groups. “The latter are, with very few exceptions, not aligned with sovereigntist ideas,” he says. “Most are decent, grounded people, many with solid backgrounds in history, archaeology, or the arts. They are passionate about the Dacian theme – sometimes to the point of obsession – but ultimately just want to remain ‘weekend barbarians’.”

Calinescu adds that his work on the subject was never intended as more than an exploration of an existing reality and a way to open up discussion around it. “I found it a challenge to examine the founding myth of the Romanian people through the lens of a camera,” he says.

The book A Country Called Dacia is available here.