The Phoenix Land (26 page)

Chapter One

The Treaty of Trianon was signed on 4 June 1920, and, as I recall, was ratified by the National Assembly in Budapest toward the end of August.

In his heart no Hungarian ever really accepted the terms that had been forced upon us.

From a political point of view Hungary had been obliged to choose between two opposing attitudes. The first was that of acceptance, both officially and publicly, of the treaty’s terms: the second, which is what soon became generally adopted, was to look upon the document as something only signed under duress, to deny its validity and to demand its revision. This amounted to a hard-line ‘No! No! Never!’

Faced with the terms of the Treaty of Frankfurt, which brought to an end the Franco-Prussian War, the French had adopted the first course even though they thought in 1871 just as we did in 1920. In his heart no Frenchman was ever resigned to peace terms that tore the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine from the heartland of France. Nevertheless, when the treaty had been signed, the order had been given:
‘Y penser toujours, en parler jamais’
– ‘Think of it always, speak of it never!’ Everyone, not only the officers of state but the entire press and the public, every last man, in groups or individually, upheld this principle for forty-three years. And what an admirable principle it proved to be, giving to all an inner strength and discipline, keeping alive a profound patriotism in everyone’s hearts, existing in the blood as true and natural as mother’s milk. There was no need to feed this patriotic feeling with slogans, for these would have been superfluous. Such a feeling is not eroded by silence for without words it still works in the heart towards that
never-spoken but never-changing goal. Truly great is the nation that can do this.

By adopting this policy the France of the Third Republic was enabled not only to avoid any friction with her immediate
neighbours
to the east but also to acquire Tunis and Morocco and peacefully build a colonial empire in Africa reaching almost as far as the Equator. This could never have been achieved in the face of English disapproval if Germany had not remained
passively
helpful. It is possible that Wilhelmstrasse fully believed that the lesson of Sedan
58
ruled out any possible future
retaliation
by France. And they certainly felt that allowing France to occupy herself in grabbing new colonial territories in Africa would tie down her armies and provide a useful new object for any chauvinistic ambitions she might still have.

No doubt, the open defiance shown by what was left of Hungarian people after the partition enforced by the Treaty of Trianon told the world of our unrelenting opposition. However, it would have been better for our country if we could have
followed
the example of France.

It was obvious that in the foreseeable future nothing would change what had been decided at Trianon, and that many years would pass before some radical changes in Europe would make it possible for a revision of terms even to be mentioned. Until such time came, obdurate refusal to accept the situation would mean isolation for Hungary and with it much harm and little
possibility
of progress. The treaty terms had left many questions unresolved. The letter written by Millerand, the French prime minister, to the Hungarian delegate at the conference left the consideration of revising the frontiers dependent upon
unspecified
future conditions; thus leaving the door open to later
discussion
. Furthermore, although the terms affecting the status of ethnic minorities were sketchy and unclear, they nevertheless gave Hungary a moral right to try to alleviate the social
conditions
of Hungarians now living outside the country’s new
borders
. If a favourable atmosphere could be induced this would entail negotiations with Hungary’s new neighbours and, from an economic point of view, could bring great advantages.

In the first year after the treaty’s ratification all political life in Hungary was devoted to creating order at home and bringing an end to the White Terror
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that had threatened to destabilize the newborn state.

The administration destroyed by the revolution had first to be reconstituted for better or worse, as circumstances permitted. The state finances had to be put in order so that the machinery of government could function. There were also many problems
concerning
the membership of parliament, which now consisted for the most part of men with no political schooling or experience and delegates of the National Smallholders’ Party led by
Nagyatádi
-Szabó. These were divided into small cliques who voted either from sheer well-meaning ignorance or for personal gain, or even from emotion aroused by political slogans. Most of the
ministers
’ time was taken up in coping with unnecessary bickering in parliamentary debates, leaving them little opportunity for serious planning. As a result, for a whole year no decision was taken regarding what should be the country’s official foreign policy. Although on the very day the treaty was signed the president of the National Assembly declared that it ‘contained moral and material impossibilities and that no one can be bound by
impossibilities
’, and although delegates from the newly separated provinces produced a petition addressed to ‘all the countries of the world’ in which they swore to work to rejoin the mother
country
, these were all only individual opinions and protests and were never official decisions of policy by the government of Hungary; nor did they influence the future behaviour of the majority.

That this was so was proved by Prime Minister Pál Teleki when he contacted Benes, the prime minister of Czechoslovakia, with whom he initiated the first discussions with representatives of one of the newly-created neighbouring states. These were held at Bruck, where Hungary was represented by Teleki and his foreign minister, Gustáv Gratz, and although no tangible
decisions
were taken at least the meeting was held in a friendly atmosphere and ended with a promise to meet again.

Such was the political state of Hungary as regards both
internal
and external affairs. What was to come was still uncertain.

Then came King Karl’s first
putsch
, which turned out to be an adventure fit only as a subject for operetta.

The king travelled through Austria in disguise and entered Hungary with a false passport, arriving at Szombathely, where he drove to the archbishop’s palace. As it happened, József Vass, the minister of education, chanced to be there while Teleki was not far away, staying at Antal Sigray’s house at Ivánc where he had gone for a brief Easter holiday. He was at once informed by telephone.

Poor King Karl had arrived full of hope. For months he had been visited at the small castle of Prangins on Lake Geneva (offered to him as a refuge by the Swiss government) by a band of eager adventurers representing all sorts of diverse interests, business and political. Many of these had hopes of arranging the sale of the Habsburg jewels, an enterprise that promised great rewards as they were known to include the ‘Florentiner Ei’, the huge egg-shaped diamond of the Medicis. This band of
opportunists
brought with them hopeful and wonderful news, mainly from Paris, for at Prangins nothing else would bring the promise of money.

Furthermore, it seems probable that a few well-meaning and loyal Habsburg supporters also sent encouraging reports from Vienna, Budapest, Bratislava, Brünn and Prague – perhaps also from Zagreb – all of which King Karl believed to be true. He really did believe that everywhere hearts were throbbing with loyal eagerness and that he had only to appear to be instantly reinstated upon the throne he had abandoned. This would be the Hungarian throne and, once restored there, the Dual Monarchy would again be his, and he would return to Vienna as emperor on the shoulders of the Hungarians. And if not actually on their shoulders, at least at the head of a Hungarian army; for even he knew well enough that Renner’s Austria was hardly aching for his return.

For King Karl himself it was self-evident and completely
natural
to assume that, once restored, not Budapest but Vienna would be the Imperial capital once again, and that he would return to the Hofburg and Schönbrunn, the ancient seats of the Habsburg-Lorraine family. This, at least, was his goal and the ultimate object of his dreams.

Naturally, Vienna was not mentioned by him at Szombathely. There he spoke only of his ‘beloved Hungarians’, and it was
evident
that he first wanted to secure a foothold in little Hungary. To this end, his hopes were centred on Admiral Horthy for the simple reason that just before he became Regent, Horthy had sent a letter to him at Prangins. Although when abdicating the king had absolved everyone from their oaths of allegiance to him, Horthy had written that he considered his assumption of the position as Regent as a necessary but essentially temporary arrangement, and that as soon as circumstances permitted and he could do it without endangering the welfare of the nation, he himself would resign and return the supreme power to the
rightful
sovereign.

It was this confidence that had prompted his return. He understood, he said, that everything had been arranged and that one of his agents – probably the man who called himself Belmonte and who had been awarded a title of by the king – had brought him the encouraging news that his restoration would be favourably regarded by the victorious powers, and so all was well, was it not?

He paced up and down the room and, although he could speak excellent Hungarian, he was now so excited and in such good humour that he spoke only in German.

All he seemed to want now was advice on how best to reward Horthy in a manner worthy of him. ‘Shall I give him a dukedom? Yes, that would do admirably.
Glauben die Herren
– do you think, my lords, he would like that? Or should I give him the Grand Cross of the Order of Maria-Theresia? Yes! That would be even better. I brought it with me. You all agree he’ll be overjoyed?
Nicht war das wird ihn freuen, dass muss ihn freuen
– He’ll be
overjoyed
, won’t he? He must be overjoyed.’

And he went on like this for some time, speaking of nothing else. Teleki, József Vass, and Mikes, Bishop of Szombathely, listened to him in amazement. He never once asked how he was regarded by public opinion, nor what was the view of the majority of the people, or even that of the parliament of
long-suffering
Hungary. Clearly none of this seemed important to him, so convinced was he that his arrival was joyfully awaited.

The next day the party set off for Budapest in two cars, Karl in the first and Teleki in the second. Because of some
mechanical
trouble the second car was left behind on the way, and so King Karl arrived in the capital alone. It was about noon.

First he stopped at the prime minister’s office in the fortress of Buda and there hurriedly washed his hands at the fountain in the courtyard before crossing to the Royal Palace. Horthy had just sat down to lunch when he was called from the table by an aide-
de-camp
who announced that the king had arrived and was waiting for him in the study. Horthy, of course, rushed there at once.

Their talk lasted some two hours, and it seems that Karl repeated all the things he had been saying to the ministers at Szombathely about the news he had heard from Paris and how everything was ready for his return. He then put the insignia of the Grand Cross of the Order of Maria Theresia on the table in front of Horthy, presumably as a gesture of encouragement. The Regent, however, pushed it to one side and started to explain the realities of the situation. What his actual words were I do not know, but it is certain that he made it clear that to attempt a restoration would be an insane adventure. The Great Powers were sure to object, while the newly independent states would mobilize immediately and threaten armed intervention. Invasion would follow with the inevitable risk of a further division of the country, this time even worse than the first. He probably also went so far as to say that public opinion did not look kindly on the idea of welcoming as their ruler a sovereign who had
abandoned
his post barely a year and a half before. Horthy must have spoken wisely and well, for the result was that Karl got back into his car and returned to Szombathely. It had been agreed that he would return at once to Switzerland and that every effort would be made to keep the whole excursion a secret.