The obligatory Bulgarisation consisted of the liquidation or transfer of stakes. The procedure between particulars was instigated and regulated by the state, but the state did not participate directly. Smaller firms were liquidated through direct deals, whereas the arrangements for more important companies were subject to oversight and approval by a commission (including representatives of the branch associations) at the Ministry of Industry. The mandatory Bulgarian counterparts were (in order of priority) the partners in the company, businessmen in the same, or businessmen in other branches.

In case of suspected under‐pricing, the difference was paid to the state, not to the owner. The proceeds were deposited in blocked accounts of the Jewish vendor put under control of the [Bulgarian National Bank]. Furthermore, in a strongly inflationary environment, the allowed interest‐free deferred payments constituted an obvious handicap for the former owners.

[…]

The key, however, were the indirect effects incorporating the simplest, technical formulation of the microeconomics of antisemitism. It could be reduced to the induced massive offer of productive and personal assets triggered by bankruptcies, forced transfers, taxation, professional interdictions and deportations.

Or, in other words, to the emergence of a customer’s market, which generated offers at low prices under strong time and personal constraints. This further distorted the markets that were already heavily biased by the special régimes for war rationing.

[…]

The archives illuminate the beneficiaries. In first place were the businesses. Unexpected opportunities arose for the guilds and the corporatist interests. Government institutions were particularly favoured so that there was urgent need to temper and channel their demand.

They were persuaded that the ‘Jewish assets’ appertain to them and perceived those goods as a chance for convenient procurement. The initial wish to receive for free the belongings of Jews deported from [Macedonia, Thrace and Pirot] was rejected, but some privileges (first choice of quality goods; avoiding auctions; attractive prices) were sanctioned.

The problem faced by the public bodies was rather their limited budget credits for such acquisitions. The employees also lobbied for special treatment such as closed auctions, special selection of luxury goods, reduced prices or access to the abandoned homes. A shocking reality was the frenetic rush of ‘civil society’ (cultural and religious institutions, non‐governmental organisations, charity organisations, the Red Cross and political movements) eager to seize the opportunity.

(Emphasis added.)

The bourgeois state did not (and still does not) nationalize and confiscate properties in the interest of serving the working masses or fulfilling human need, but on behalf of capital. The market is slow and inefficient at allocating resources, so sometimes the bourgeois state has to directly intervene (but the market does play an indirect rôle in that). This is a matter of historical necessity rather than personal choice. Naturally, the liberals missed the point of all this:

The economics of antisemitism was premonitory as well. In a parliamentary discourse in July 1943, Nikola Moushanov formulated a lucid prophecy. The anti‐Jewish laws — he said — were deeply demoralising. They were laying the ground for communism because they violated property rights and thus provided precedents justifying an ideology that demonised private ownership, capital, and the bourgeoisie. The course of history validated his prediction. Following the September 1944 coup and the ensuing communist takeover, overwhelming nationalisation was enacted in late 1947.

This is a cringeworthy, apples‐to‐oranges comparison (possibly shoehorned in to let the paper bypass anticommunist censors — who knows?), but the authors immediately recover:

More unexpectedly, foreshadows of post‐communism could be found, too. ‘Jewish assets’ were de facto treated and distributed as state property, in many respects comparable to privatisation. It is thus understandable that some technicalities were similar. The financial privileges granted then to selected buyers, such as deadlines, grace periods, and credit, were reminiscent of the widely applied management‐buyout privatisation schemes. Many economic sins such as corruption, under‐pricing, manipulated public offers, political interferences, or favouritism were also identical.

(Emphasis added.)