No healthcare service in the world – regardless of how well–funded or well–run – has been able to cope fully with the added pressure brought about in recent weeks by the coronavirus pandemic. In some countries where healthcare is particularly poor, it is the system itself which has contributed enormously to the spread of the virus.
In Romania, several hospitals have been forced to close after large numbers of medical staff – often forced to work without the correct personal protection equipment – were tested positive for coronavirus; more than 10 per cent of all those infected in the country are medical personnel.
There have also been cases of coronavirus patients being forced to share wards with other, non-infected patients, spreading the virus further.
On March 23, the boss of the country’s largest hospital, in the capital Bucharest, was fired after it was revealed that a 74-year-old man (who on March 18 had become the second person in Romania to die of complications caused by coronavirus) had been admitted to hospital with Covid-19 symptoms but had not been tested for the virus for four days.
On March 26, Romania’s health minister, Viorel Costache, resigned.
On paper at least, Romania has one of Europe’s highest concentrations of intensive care beds: more than 21 for every 100,000 people. This compares well to Italy’s 12.5 and a paltry 6.6 in the UK.
However, the reality in the country’s hospitals is somewhat different.
In October 2015 a fire at a Bucharest nightclub, Colectiv, killed 26 people. A further 38 died in hospital over the course of the next five months. It has been claimed that at least 13 of those who died in hospital did so not from the wounds they received in the nightclub fire, but from bacterial infections contracted while in intensive care. Others died for want of proper intensive care, despite the country’s authorities at the time repeatedly stating that they had all they needed to care for the injured.
Alexander Nanau’s documentary Colectiv (or Collective, in English), now available on the HBOGo streaming platform, does not – beyond some harrowing footage of the fire starting and the resulting surge for the nightclub’s one exit – tell the story of what happened on the night of the fire.
Through the eyes of first an investigative journalist, Catalin Tolontan, and then a young minister of health, Vlad Voiculescu, Colectiv instead exposes the endemic corruption that persists to this day in the Romanian health service: corruption which led to the unnecessary deaths of some of the fire’s victims.
The film is centered on the discovery by Tolontan and his team that one of the largest suppliers of disinfectant to the Romanian health service had been diluting its products, meaning that hospitals and clinics were being not being properly disinfected. They were in effect not being disinfected at all.
The news forces the incumbent, incompetent health minister to resign, which ushers in Voiculescu, the head of an NGO that helps child cancer patients. Voiculescu was previously the subject of another HBO documentary, Rețeaua (The Network), which looked at his creation of a network of people across the world who personally imported to Romania cancer drugs that were at the time unavailable in the country.
Clearly very different to his predecessors and with unquestionably good intentions, Voiculescu attempts to make changes to the way that the Romanian health system is run but meets with resistance from politically-appointed (and protected) hospital managers who make anything other than cosmetic reform of the system all but impossible.
In the end, he runs out of time. The film closes with the results of Romania’s 2016 general election, which brought a clear victory for the country’s notoriously corrupt Social Democrats (PSD), who did not keep Voiculescu on as health minister. He was in the job less than eight months.
Writing for the Los Angeles Times, Justin Chang called the film “a gripping, despairing exposé of institutional injustice”, while Jay Weissberg of Variety called it “a documentary for our times, deserving of widespread exposure.”
“This chilling exposé should send shockwaves through a system so mired in venality that politicians as well as a large segment of the medical profession thought nothing of letting people die so they could stay in power and ensure their kickbacks,” adds Weissberg.
One of the PSD’s many promises during the 2016 election campaign was the construction of eight regional hospitals across the country, all built to the highest standards. Work has yet to begin on a single hospital. Instead, before being kicked out of office late in 2019 the PSD further entrenched the corrupt system that sees almost all senior level medical staff and administrators appointed not according to their ability, but their political affiliation or connections.
For a number of years, the slogan of those many, many Romanians who have so often taken to the streets in huge numbers to protest against corruption in all walks of life has been simple: corupția ucide (corruption kills). Colectiv is a brutal, shocking reminder that nothing has changed since the fire in 2015. Coronavirus is likely to kill many people in Romania. Corruption may kill even more.