Book Reviews
Steven Béla Várdy. Historical Dictionary of Hungary. European Historical Dictionaries, No. 18. Lanham, Md., and London: The Scarecrow Press, 1997. Pp. xx + 813. $70.00 (U.S.). ISBN 0-8108-3254-2
S. B. Várdy's Historical Dictionary of Hungary is one of the most comprehensive collection of facts, data, and basic information concerning the history of Hungary, published for nearly a generation. Its only predecessor worthy of mention is the Magyar Tájékoztató Zsebkönyv (Hungarian Information Almanac), published in 1943 under the aegis of the Magyar Nemzeti Szövetség (Hungarian National Association) and written and edited mostly by Foreign Ministry personnel. It focused heavily on the attitudes of the neighbouring states toward their Hungarian minorities. Because of this, the Zsebkönyv has been seen as a manifestation of Hungary's "Trianon syndrome." More than half a century later it seems that there has been hardly any substantive change in this regard. A great many historians, writers, political personalities, indeed even ordinary citizens in Hungary and the surrounding nations have had and still have an obsession with minority politics - including issues of language maintenance, minority education etc. However history is not politics and in spite of the persistence of nationalistic attitudes - especially among the Slovaks, Rumanians and Serbs - one can only hope for an eventual subsiding of such undue preoccupation with past problems.
For the time being, however, nationality problems in the contexts above noted, are still serious issues which are seemingly intractable. Within a hopefully less tension-filled world of the future, nationalism as an all-encompassing ideology should become less and less tenable. Nevertheless, the movement toward a less virulent nationalism, to civic patriotism coupled with cultural autonomy, is seemingly still a long way off. This is the case especially in those parts of the world where there is hostility toward those within local nation states who are different ethnically - such as the Hungarians of Slovakia and Romania - to take note of only the most prominent cases in East Central Europe.
Hence when a Hungarian historian writes about peoples who at one time or another lived within the Hungarian state, he easily becomes a target for the chauvinists of our times in the neighbouring states and elsewhere; and this happens even if the Hungarian historian and/or historian of Hungary attempts to be as fair as possible. Numerous examples of this could be cited, but allow me to remain within the context of Béla Várdy's work.
One reviewer of his book took issue with Várdy's opening sentence of the entry on Slovakia, which reads as follows: "Slovakia had no separate identity, not even in the form of an autonomous province, until the twentieth century." Várdy continues by explaining briefly the development of Slovak national consciousness in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In spite of what Várdy wrote, the reviewer states that while the above is undoubtedly a true statement, a less politically-charged sentence could have been used to introduce the concept of Slovakia. It is precisely is kind of sensitivity which causes most of the misunderstandings among nations.
The above-noted reviewer also objected to the term "mutilation" used by Várdy to describe the treatment of Hungary by the peacemakers in the wake of World War I. However, if by "mutilation" one means the virtual destruction of a nation-state, the term may indeed have been used in the proper manner. One only wishes that the Hungarian viewpoint receive an understanding - and, perhaps, even sympathy - equal to that presently accorded to pre-1918 Hungary's nationalities who are now the dominant elements in their own nations.
Regarding Várdy's Historical Dictionary, there are a few additional perspectives worthy of being noted. One of these is the extensive use of comparative historical data, which allows one to see the contours of Hungarian history on a comparative basis. The volume also contains numerous entries devoted to Turkic and Balkan influences that played into the Hungarian past. Also useful are the many entries pertaining to the historical role of the Habsburgs and their impact on Hungary's evolution.
It should also be noted that in his work Várdy paid much attention to historians and the practice of historical scholarship. Concerning writers, generally only those were accorded separate entries who either have had or still have a broader political or cultural impact. Needless to say the decision to include or not was a difficult, indeed, often a subjective choice. Writers and scholars in other disciplines - such as philosophers, social thinkers, and natural scientists - did not fare as well.
Várdy's volume also deals with the theories about the pre- and early historical development of the Hungarian people. As we know, there is the Finno-Ugric theory of Hungarian origins. This hypothesis still commands the support of a large majority of the professional linguists and historians among Hungarian academics. However, many Hungarians are dissatisfied with this orientation and long for an interpretation which incorporates what they call the long-lost glories of the Magyar's alleged Sumerian and Hunnic-Turkic ancestors. Although professional historians such as Várdy refuse to associate themselves with such "pseudo-academic" writings, the extent and intensity of the dissatisfaction with the so-called "official" Finno-Ugric orientation would merit more attention to these concerns. Perhaps an entry on this issue would not have been totally inappropriate, simply to register the widespread existence of such beliefs.
Historical terms which refer to different eras in the history of Europe, such as the medieval era, the Renaissance, the Reformation (perhaps even the Counter-Reformation), Baroque, Enlightenment, Romanticism, Populism, etc., is in my estimation one of the weaker aspects of this outstanding historical dictionary. More detailed essays within the dictionary itself could have provided a connecting link to elements of a common European civilization within the context of Hungarian history.
From the perspective of this reviewer, the fact that this historical dictionary was produced and edited by a single individual is the source of many of its virtues. A collective venture may have resulted in a greater sense of orientation and possibly coherence of the information presented, but it would have undermined the very necessary sense of individual responsibility for what has turned out to be a very good volume indeed.
The course of historical evolution points toward the coming of an age where the peoples of East Central Europe will live not within politically isolated nation states but in a united Europe where they will enjoy cultural and local autonomy. The achievement of these essentially lofty goals requires, indeed even mandates, an ongoing commitment to national traditions in a mutually tolerant spirit. The historical dictionary produced by Prof. Várdy is a proper and useful step in that direction as well as a necessary progression toward a new synthesis of Hungarian history.
Thomas Szendrey
Gannon University
Editors' note: Professor Szendrey will return to a more comprehensive analysis of S.B. Várdy's scholarship and writings in an essay slated for a future volume of our journal.
Richard S. Esbenshade. Hungary. New York: Marshall Cavendish, 1994. Cloth. ISBN 1 85435 588 0
The Marshall Cavendish Corporation, a group of mostly Chinese editors, and author Richard S. Esbenshade have managed to produce a lavishly illustrated handbook of Hungary intended for the general public of the English-speaking world. It appears in the publisher's Cultures of the World series as one of about seventy volumes at the date of its publication.
The appearance of such a book is always an exiting event as there are few such handbooks that one could recommend with confidence to non-Hungarian members of the world's general public, or even to people of Hungarian ancestry who want a basic introduction to Hungary and Hungarian culture. My expectations were high when I took this volume in my hands but they were not fulfilled in every respect.
The book's organization is traditional. It begins with brief chapters devoted to geography, history, government and the economy. These are followed by chapters covering the subjects of "Hungarians," their religions, lifestyles, and language. The final chapters deal with the arts, leisure, festivals and food in Hungary. All this is followed by some useful data and a bibliography that could earn no more than a D for a first year college student.
Esbenshade's treatment of Hungarians is sympathetic. The photography was fine and the book's design is excellent. Nevertheless, I was disappointed with some aspects of this book. I was told one too many times that Hungarians are a "very proud" people. The book's portrayal of Hungary as a country in disarray was probably accurate for the times - after all Esbenshade's research for it must have been done during the early 1990s - but in 1999 the handbook is dated already. Not surprisingly, for a historian the most disappointing part of the book has been its treatment of Hungarian history. But, how can we expect the author to be accurate about the details of Hungary's evolution when he gives 1934 [sic! 1938] as the year of Austria's annexation by the Third Reich (27).
Professor Bisztray complained in an earlier volume of our journal that when his non-Hungarian son-in-law asked for a little volume that would introduce him to Hungary, he (Prof. Bisztray) had nothing to recommend. Alas, the appearance of Richard Esbenshade's Hungary has not changed that situation.
N.F. Dreisziger
Royal Military College of Canada
István Zombori, ed. Magyarország és a Szentszék kapcsolatainak ezer éve [Thousand Years of Interaction between Hungary and the Holy See]. Budapest: Magyar Egyháztörténeti Enciklopédia Munkaközössége, 1996. Pp. 337; 15 pages of photographs, 2 maps.
Hungary has had a close relationship with the Holy See ever since the nation's conversion to Christianity around the year 1000 A.D, and many historians have dealt with this topic. The most significant of the relevant works include Vilmos Fraknói's massive Magyarország egyházi és politikai összeköttetései a római szentszékkel [Hungary's Ecclesiastical and Political Connections with the Roman Holy See] (3 vols., Budapest, 1901-1903), Vilmos Tower's one-volume popular synthesis A pápák szerepe hazánk megmentésében és fennmaradásában [The Role of the Popes in the Saving and Survival of Our Homeland] (Budapest, 1935), and Egyed Hermann's thorough A katolikus egyház története Magyarországon 1914-ig [The History of the Catholic Church in Hungary until 1914] (Munich, 1973).
During the half a century of communist domination the whole field of ecclesiastical history became forbidden territory. Research in church history was virtually taboo, and it was revived only after the collapse of communism in 1989.
One of the results of this collapse was the foundation of the "International Society for Encyclopedia of Church History in Hungary" [Magyar Egyháztörténeti Enciklopédia Munkaközössége = METEM] in 1989. The METEM immediately initiated the bilingual quarterly Magyar Egyháztörténeti Vázlatok [Essays in Church History in Hungary] (1989), as well as the monograph series "METEM Könyvek" [METEM Books].
One of the volumes in this series is the book under review. It is a multi-authored overview of the Papal-Hungarian relationship, that is covered by a dozen authors in eleven chronological chapters. With the exception of one (Gábor Adriányi from the University of Bonn in Germany), all of the authors are connected with various Hungarian institutions of higher learning or research. The latter include the Loránd Eötvös University of Budapest (Jenő Gergely, József Gerics, István Hiller, András Kubinyi, Erzsébet Ladányi), the Péter Pázmány Catholic University of Budapest (Péter Erdő, György Rácz, László Só1ymosi, Kornél Szovák), the Janus Pannonius University of Pécs (László Katus), the Attila József University of Szeged (István Petrovics), the Institute of History of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences (Péter Kovács), and the Ferenc Móra Museum of Szeged, which is the home base of editor István Zombori.
A brief review of this type cannot possibly do justice to the scholarly merits of the individual chapters, each of which was written by a different scholar. All we can do is to note that there are notable differences among these chapters both in their structure as well as in their style. On the whole, however, they are well-written and reliable scholarly essays. They combine to present a clear portrait of Hungary's millennial interaction with the Papacy.
The material in the Appendix is also very useful. It includes a chronology, a list of the popes, the Primate Archbishops of Esztergom, the Papal Nuncios to Vienna and Budapest, the accredited Austro-Hungarian (1867-1918) and Hungarian (1920-1998) ambassadors to the Holy See, and Hungary's Ministers for Religion and Public Education between 1867 and 1950. It is followed by 39 relevant photographs and two maps. It is to be lamented that maps of Historic Hungary were not included. The inclusion of such maps would have made the use of this volume much easier, as would the addition of a name and subject index.
Although not a true synthesis, Magyarország és a Szentszék kapcsolatainak ezer éve is a useful summary of Hungary's relationship with the Holy See. Its expected appearance in English in the year 2000 should be a welcome addition to the growing number of English language scholarly works on Hungary.
Steven Béla Várdy
Duquesne University
Beáta Nagy and Margit S. Sárdi, eds. Szerep és alkotás: Női szerepek a társadalomban és az alkotóművészetben [Gender Roles and Creations: Women's Roles in Society and the Creative Arts]. Debrecen: Csokonai, 1997. 313 pp. Paperback. HU ISBN 963 260 113 0.
This volume represents the selected proceedings of a conference that had been held under the same title at the Petőfi Literary Museum in Budapest in 1996. The papers in the volume have been organized under the same two headings as the conference: part I "Női szerepek az alkotóművészetben" [Women's Gender Roles in the Creative Arts] and part II "Női szerepek a társadalomban" [Women's Gender Roles in Society]. Only some of the papers presented at the conference have been included in the book, but the conference's programme, as well as short summaries of each article in German, can be found at the volume's end.
Szerep és alkotás is a significant contribution to the still nascent area of research in gender studies in Hungary. Its somewhat widely defined scope may be explained by this very same fact: no specific time reference was given and neither was a geographic reference. Thus the volume encompasses papers that range from biblical times (Ilona Várhelyi's article about women's roles in the Bible, "Nőszerepek a Bibliában") all the way until the end of the 20th century (Erzsébet Rácz's "'Emberek-e a nők?' 20. századvégi korkép a német nyelvterület dramairóinak műveiből" [Are Women Human Beings? Panorama of German Women Dramatists at the End of the 20th Century]), and talks about women in such diverse geographic locations as the Holy Land (as mentioned), in France (Zsuzsa Acél, "A feminizmus visszacsapásának egy lehetséges formája a század közepén" [One Possible Form of Feminist Backlash at Mid-Century]), Germany (the above mentioned article), and England (Ágnes Bécsy, "Alkotás és önvédelem: Virginia Woolf irói indulása" [Creation and Self-Defense: Virginia Woolf's Coming to Writing]). Yet the majority of the papers focus on Hungarian women in the 19th and the first half of the 20th century. This may be explainable if one bears in mind the historical fact that the second half of the 19th century and the fin-de-siècle brought about the first women's movement in Hungary (as in other countries worldwide) entailing women's claims to political and educational rights. Consequently, women entered the public sphere on a much larger scale than ever before, including the universities as well as the previously male-dominated arts. Several articles reflect this, such as Csilla E. Csorba on women photographers at the turn of the century ("A kisérletezéstől az önmegvalósításig: Magyar nőfotográfusok a századfordulón" [From Experimentation to Self-Realization: Hungarian Women Photographers at the Turn of the Century]) or Éva Vámos on the history of women's education in the sciences and engineering ("Nők műszaki és termeszettudományos oktatása").
I would like to discuss two articles in more detail, one from each section of the volume, which I have chosen according to their topic as well as quality: Csilla E. Csorba's above mentioned article on women photographers from section I, and from section II, Susan Zimmermann's article written in German "Frauenbestrebungen und Frauenbewegungen in Ungarn: Zur Organisationsgeschichte der Jahre 1848 bis 1918" (Hungarian Women's Struggles and Movements: On the History of Women Organizing Between 1848 and 1918).
Csorba gives a short, feminist historical overview of women photographers since the mid-19th century. Even though women were involved in this new art form from its very beginnings, they mainly worked as their male colleagues' or relatives' assistants and acquired their knowledge in the profession as autodidacts since no formal education existed for women in the field. The first important women photographers appeared on the scene in Hungary around 1890 only, even though a few names, such as that of Karolina Werner, can be found in the records as early as 1858. At the end of the nineteenth century, photographers started taking on an increasing number of female apprentices who progressed very fast in the profession. An 1883 article in the photo-magazine Fényképészeti Lapok, written by the editor, praises women's fast learning, often much faster than men's, and concludes that if girls' education were to be improved, women would accordingly show much better results in the area of photography. And, truly enough, the turn of the century produced a few important names among whom the author mentions Erzsi Gaiduschek, Erzsi Landau, Ilka Révai, and, first and foremost, Olga Máte. Máte was a truly great artist, famous for her portraits of Margit Kaffka and other celebrities of her time. Csorba's article proves one of feminism's major theses, namely that women's absence in the history of art wasn't due to their lack of talent (as has often been argued) but, rather, to the lack of educational and professional opportunities. Only after this situation had started to change at the turn of the century did the first great women photographers begin emerging in Hungary.
Zimmermann traces the first feminist struggles in Hungary back to the revolutionary year of 1848 when a group of twelve young women wrote an appeal demanding equal civic rights for women - including suffrage and access to university education, both of which would be granted to Hungarian women only about half-a-century later. The years following the revolution were characterized by conservatism which was not particularly prone to supporting any changes in the status of the female sex. This situation changed in the 1860s with the opening of a first high-school (gimnázium) for girls in 1869 (an initiative of Mrs. Pál Veres). During the period that followed, numerous women's journals were founded and women were organizing at professional and political levels. By 1910, an estimated 1,400 women's organizations had been established in Hungary.
Zimmermann devotes a large part of her very well researched
and documented article to describing the split between the Social Democratic
women's movement (with Mariska Gárdos as its leader) and the mainly middle-class
Association of Feminists (Feministák Egyesülete, FE, with Rosika Schwimmer and
Vilma Glücklich as its most active members). The FE was a truly activist organization;
its leaders founded the journal A nő és a társadalom (Woman and Society)
and established a counselling office for women, among numerous other activities.
Zimmermann outlines how a kind of patriarchal thinking concerning the "woman
question" took hold among Social Democrats, prompting them to resist the
idea of granting women the right to vote, a point upon which Social Democratic
women and the FE parted ways.
These two articles are representative of the volume as they use historical facts
to support a feminist analysis of Hungarian women's fight for equality in politics
and the arts. I recommend this volume as a valuable sourcebook for anyone involved
with women's studies especially in relation to Hungary.
Agatha Schwartz
University of Ottawa
István Hegyi. Világunk zeneoktatási öröksége. A zenetanítás kisenciklopédiája [The World's Music Education Heritage. A Short Encyclopedia of Music Education]. Pécs: Janus Pannonius Tudományegyetem, 1997. Pp. 395. ISBN 963-6414572.
Ever since the development of the "Kodály-Method" by the noted Hungarian composer Zoltán Kodály (1882-1967), Hungary has been an important source of music education. The Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest, the Kodály Institute of Music Pedagogy in Kecskemét, and several other important centres - including the author's home base in Pécs - have been the exporters of the Kodály-Method and of various other systems of music education.
As Hungary's role in music education has increased, it became increasingly evident that the country's institutions of music education need readily available information about their counterparts throughout the world. This is the task that was undertaken by the author of the work under review in his capacity as Professor of Music Education at Janus Pannonius University in Pécs.
The work is basically a one-volume encyclopedia, which - in addition to an introductory essay on the history of music education in the world with particular reference to Hungary (pp. 10-34) - contains detailed information about most of the countries of Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, South America, and Australia.
The bulk of the volume is taken up by separate essays on the individual countries (35-256). Each of the country-essays starts out by describing the history of education in that particular country, followed by the portrayal of music education on the primary, secondary and upper levels. This in turn is followed by the depiction of the music curriculum, music textbooks, music methodology, music training outside formal education, music educational associations, and, if applicable, the special methods of music education that may have evolved in that country.
The country-essays are followed by the biographical essays of the most prominent 20th century music educators of the world (257-318), a list of the noted relevant scholarly institutions and associations (pp. 318-322), a list of the institutions of higher learning that offer music education (pp. 322-330), a selected bibliography (pp. 331-347), and a series of comparative statistical tables. The latter show the chronological evolution of music education (pp. 349-355), the date and place of the foundation of the most important institutions of higher learning in music education (35~365), the number of schools, students, and teachers, as well as the gross national income of each country (pp. 366-375), and finally by the English translation of the author's preface (p. 376), and a most useful name and subject index (pp. 377-395).
Hegyi's Világunk zeneoktatási öröksége is a most useful volume, although because of the delay in its publication, some of the information in it is dated. As pointed out by the author himself, he had finished this work nearly a decade ago in the form of a doctoral dissertation, but he was unable to publish it until 1997. This means that some of the information contained therein is undoubtedly out of date. This is particularly true for the countries that in the meanwhile have disappeared or were significantly altered (e.g. East Germany, West Germany, the Soviet Union, Yugoslavia), as well as for those that have emerged into independent statehood (e.g. the former republics of the Soviet Union and of Yugoslavia).
Even so, Hegyi's work is a most valuable handbook of music education that has no rivals in Hungary. It would be desirable for the author to publish a revised version incorporating some of the changes that have taken place since his closing date of 1989.
Steven Béla Várdy
Duquesne University
Károly Kocsis and Eszter Kocsis-Hodosi. Ethnic Geography of the Hungarian Minorities in the Carpathian Basin. Budapest: The Geographical Research Institute, Research Centre for Earth Sciences, Hungarian Academy of Sciences, 1998. I + 241 pp. ISBN 963 7395 84 9 (2,800 forints)
Károly Kocsis and Eszter Kocsis-Hodosi have again provided an outstanding sourcebook for researchers of Hungarian minority communities in East Central Europe. Their coverage is compact, precise and effectively documented with excellent maps, tables and figures. The book is also based on a clear and elegant English translation. Finally, the timing could not come at a better time, as the inter-ethnic hostilities and conflicts in the region again occupy centre stage. Although Hungarian minorities have not been at the centre of most of these conflicts, they play a key role in efforts to stabilize the region. As the people with the most to lose they have been at the forefront of democratization and economic reform.
As Kocsis and Kocsis-Hodosi point out in their introductory chapter Hungarian minorities constitute the second most numerous minority people in Europe, second only to the Russians. In two states (Slovakia and Romania) they constitute the largest minorities, while in Yugoslavia they are second only to the Albanians. In total numbers the over three million Hungarians in minority status provide a larger population cluster than the total population in 87 different countries in the world, including states like Mongolia and Libya.
The book focuses on the Carpathian basin where almost all of the Hungarians are located. To historians this will come as no surprise, since historical Hungary included the entire Carpathian basin until the Treaty of Trianon (1920). Kocsis and Kocsis-Hodosi weave together the demographic profile with the territorial and topographic land base. The result is a fast-paced historical synthesis of the settlement of the central part of Central Europe. In addition to the fifty-three supplemental black and white figures and maps, and the thirty-six excellent population tables, the book includes a multi-coloured ethno-graphic map of the Carpathian basin and most of East Central Europe as far south as the Greek, Macedonian and Turkish borders. Even by itself this ethno-graphic map is worth the price of the book.
The book's organization is also logical and well conceived. After the overview in chapter one, it devotes a separate chapter to each region of the Carpathian basin under the control of the successor states to historic Hungary. Chapter 2 is devoted to Slovakia, and the subsequent chapters to Transcarpathia (Ukraine), Transylvania (Romania), Vojvodina (Yugoslavia), Croatia, Transmura region (Slovenia), and Burgerland (Austria). Excellent explanatory footnotes supplement the text whenever new or unfamiliar concepts, regions or peoples are discussed.
The book also includes a "Geographical Register" (pp. 205-241) in the languages of the dominant peoples who inhabit these lands today as well as the historic Hungarian place names. The register is divided to coincide with the chapters covering each region. Furthermore, the names appear in Hungarian and Slovak or Hungarian and Serb for "hydrographic names", "relief names", "historical regions", as well as settlement names, according to the Hungarian alphabetical order. Here I would like to point out that this section would be more useful to the international scholarly community if the alphabetization would be reversed. Thus, in Transylvania the current Romanian names should be alphabetized and the historic Hungarian names should follow. Of course, for scholars in Hungary the present setup is more convenient, but information should be more accessible to scholars in the United Kingdom or the United States since this is the English version of the book.
I highly recommend this book to all foreign policy specialists, in government and academia, who have to deal with East Central Europe and inter-ethnic relations. It should be on the shelves of all research libraries that deal with this region and it should be in the hands of all human rights activists who wish to inform the rest of the world about the fate of Hungarians in Transylvania, Vojvodina, Slovakia, or elsewhere in the Carpathian Basin.
Andrew Ludanyi
Ohio Northern University
György Gyuris. A Tiszatáj fél évszázada, 1947-1997 [The Tiszatáj's Half Century, 1947-1997] [Szeged Multjából, No. 9] Szeged: Somogyi Könyvtár, 1997. Pp. 222. ISBN 963-7851-96-0.
Hungary's involvement and collapse in World War II was accompanied by the virtual eradication of the country's traditional cultural heritage and its replacement by a new Marxist based socialist culture. This eradication and replacement impacted upon all possible aspects of Hungarian culture, including the life of the country's main literary and cultural periodicals that had dominated the first half of the 20th century. These included the Katholikus Szemle [Catholic Review] (1887-1944), Protestáns Szemle [Protestant Review] (1889-1920, 1924-1944), Új Idők [New Age] (1894-1946), Nyugat [West] (1908-1941), Századunk [Our Century] (1926-1939), Magyar Szemle [Hungarian Review] (1937-1944), and a number of others - all of which went out of existence just prior to, during, or immediately after the war.
Following the war they were replaced by a new set of periodicals that were destined to be carriers of the flag of communism. Some of these became highly touted Marxist publications, such as the Társadalmi Szemle [Social Review], Nagyvilág [Wide World], Jelenkor [Present Age], Kortárs [Contemporary], Élet és Irodalom [Life and Literature], Kritika [Criticism], and Valóság [Reality], while a number of others - particularly those published in various university and college towns outside Budapest - tried to survive by paying lip service to the regime's official ideology. The latter included the Tiszatáj [Tisza Region] (1947), Alföld [Low Lands] (1950), Életünk [Our Life] (1963), Forrás [Source] (1969), Somogy [Somogy Region] (1973), and a few others. Of these so-called "regional" or "provincial" periodicals only the Tiszatáj - tied intimately to the University of Szeged - managed to divest its "provincialism" and emerge as one of the major national monthlies, in competition with the much more favoured Budapest journals.
The book under review is the history of the Tiszatáj that was authored by a native of the city of Szeged and the current Director of that city's Somogyi Library. It is a pedantic scholarly monograph that treats the history of the periodical in ten chronological chapters, stretching through the half a century of its existence. Based on intensive reading of published volumes of the Tiszatáj, on relevant archival sources in the Somogyi Library, and on interviews with all of its former editors and its most noted contributors, the resulting book is a work of considerable scholarly achievement. It describes not only the everyday financial and personal struggles waged for the periodical's survival, but also the ideological changes that were manifested in its volumes, in line with the political pressures that were applied to it by the holders of political power.
The author is particularly effective in analyzing the ideological struggles waged during the 1970s and 1980s, when a new editorial policy initiated by editor-in-chief Mihály Ilia (b. 1934) and his successor József Annus (b. 1940) in the direction of patriotism met with a stiff resistance from the hierarchy of Hungary's Communist Party. This opposition ultimately lead to Ilia's resignation in 1974, and then to the journal's temporary suspension in 1986.
The book is complemented by detailed editorial data concerning the Tiszatáj's first fifty volumes (pp. 189-199), by a survey of its special topical numbers (pp. 200-205), by a list of its student supplements (pp. 20~207) and recipients of its "Tiszatáj Prize" (p. 208), and finally by a complete name index (pp. 209-219).
György Gyuris's A Tiszatáj fél évszázada is a valuable scholarly work. It is helpful both as the history of one of Hungary's most important post-World War II periodicals, and also as a mirror of Hungary's intellectual life during the Age of Communism.
Ágnes Huszár Várdy
Robert Morris College
Gabriella Hima. "Dunkle Archive der Seele" in hellen Gebärden des Körpers: Die Anthropologie der neusachlichen Prosa [Dark Archives of the Soul in Light Gestures of the Body: The Anthropology of New Objectivity's Prose]. Frankfurt a.M: Peter Lang, 1999. Pp. 276. ISBN 3-631-33015-4
Gabriella Hima's book is a comparative study between prose by the Hungarian writer Dezső Kosztolányi and the German writers Joseph Roth, Erich Kästner, and Irmgard Keun. The author's aim is to reconstruct the image of the human being depicted therein as corresponding to characteristics derived from a literary trend in German literary history which is referred to as New Objectivity (Neue Sachlichkeit). New Objectivity, as Hima herself explains, is difficult to define both in regard to periodization (usually starting in the 1920s yet without a consensus regarding its end), as well as the stylistic heterogeneity of the authors usually subsumed. Rather than adding yet another definition of the term, Hima filters out its main characteristics - such as concentration on the factual, lack of psychology and metaphysical depth which is replaced by an increased importance of the gestures - in order to look for those in the characters of the analyzed texts. The originality of Hima's work lies in the fact that she discovers those very same elements belonging to a New Objectivity-aesthetics in Dezső Kosztolányi's novels and stories Édes Anna [Anna Édes], Esti Kornél éneke [Kornel Esti's Song], Alfa, Fürdés [Bathing], A rossz orvos [The Bad Doctor], A kulcs [The Key], Pacsirta [Skylark], and Aranysárkány [Golden Dragon]. She proceeds by a semiotic analysis of the spaces in which the characters move, live and act, and of their verbal and, especially, non-verbal forms of communication. What Hima hopes to achieve is a "decipherment of codes and (re)construction of meanings" (33). Her analysis confirms a relationship between New Objectivity and early theories of behaviourism as well as film theory of the 1920s (Béla Balázs): in both, the human being is viewed through his or her gestures. This, however, Hima concludes, does not mean the lack of a third dimension in the New Objectivity-way of depicting characters. It is the reader's task to add the seemingly missing depth.
Hima's monograph is a well-researched and well-argued text. It could have made its central point even stronger by avoiding unnecessary digressions - such as the inclusion, in some places, of Russian writers (e.g. Gogol). It would have been helpful for the reader to be introduced earlier to the source of the quotation she uses as part of her title "dunkle Archive der Seele" [dark archives of the soul]; she does not reveal until page 243 that this quotation derives from the works of literary scholar Helmut Lethen. This shortcoming could have been avoided by placing chapter 1 of Part III (titled "Menschenbild der Neuen Sachlichkeit" [New Objectivity's Image of the Human Being]) where the quotation is located, at the beginning of the book instead of at the end. Given the fact that this chapter uses theoretical material such as behaviourism and film theory and demonstrates their relationship to New Objectivity, it could have been used more effectively as a building block for the analysis rather than for the conclusion. An index would also have added to the scholarly quality of the book.
Agatha Schwartz
University of Ottawa
Horthy István repülő főhadnagy tragikus halála [The Tragic Death of Lieutenant István Horthy]. Compiled and edited by Ilona Horthy. Budapest: Auktor könyvkiadó, 1992. Photos, facsimiles of documents, tables. Pp. 212, appendix.
On 20 August 1942, István Horthy, the eldest son of Regent Miklós Horthy of Hungary, died in a planecrash on the Russian front. István Horthy was a lieutenant in the Royal Hungarian Air Force and was the Vice-Regent of Hungary, that is he was the designated successor as his country's head-of-state. Ever since his death, there have been rumours that his plane had been secretly tampered with. No concrete evidence has ever been found, but speculation persists to this day that the Nazi German leaders had a hand in his death as they regarded him an Anglophile and a friend of the Jews, and therefore a threat to Nazi interests. This book reproduces the diaries and reminiscences of soldiers who served with Horthy during his tour of duty, along with several relevant documents.
A few days before the plane-crash, Horthy's wife went to visit him. For the occasion they were guests of the commander of the German forces in the Ukraine who put his villa in Kiev at the couple's disposal. Not suspecting foul play, Horthy and his wife had long and intimate conversations which included a discussion of politics. In particular, Horthy told his wife that he was more convinced than ever before that the Germans were going to lose the war. He had also come to the conclusion that he would not be able to do much for his country either on the Russian front or in Hungary, and that the best course of action for him would be to make his way to Great Britain or the United States where he could probably do something for his nation during final phases of the war or at the war's end. Horthy's wife was to inform her father-in-law of these plans when she saw him next.
On reflecting upon this visit with her husband at a later date, Ilona Horthy came to the conclusion that the villa where they stayed was most likely bugged by the German intelligence services and the German leadership un-doubtedly became informed of the younger Horthy's anti-Nazi attitudes and plans. This realization further confirmed Ilona Horthy's suspicions that her husband's death was not an accident.
The Hungarian Parliament had elected István Horthy Vice-Regent of Hungary in February of 1942. With his election, the conservative leaders of Hungary wanted to make sure that, in the case of the 74-year-old Miklós Horthy's death or incapacity - he had been gravely ill during the late autumn of 1941 - the position of Hungary's head-of-state would pass to someone who would be both inclined to and capable of standing up to the Nazis if necessary. Vice-Regent Horthy, who was a reservist in Hungary's Armed Forces, decided opt for active service on the front in part to gain the respect of the country's military, and in part to forestall the criticism that, while tens of thousands of Hungarian youths were compelled to serve on the front, he would use his privileged position to evade such service.
Being at the front in 1942 had its dangers for everyone, from the lowest of privates to officers in command of front-line units. Contrary to generally-held opinions, the Soviet air force was active throughout this period, even if most of the time it felt obliged to confine its operations to night-time attacks. Just about every night during the time when István Horthy served in the Kursk region of the Ukraine, the Russians bombed suspected Axis positions, concentrations, ware-houses and transportation lines. On one occasion the house that had been designated as Horthy's residence in a town, took a direct hit and was completely destroyed in a Red Air Force raid. Horthy was not there that night.
Then there was the danger of flying accidents and collateral damage. The Hungarian air force unit Horthy flew with, often provided escorts to German bombers that took off from airports at a greater distance from the front. In doing this, the Hungarians had to use improvised airstrips, ones which they had to abandon as soon as they suspected the Russians of finding out their location. The aircrafts they flew were inferior to both the planes of the German and the Russian air forces. Horthy's single-seater plane, in particular, was nose-heavy. Taking off and, especially, landing on earthen landing strips with this plane was very dangerous. Coming back from one of his early assignments, Horthy's plane flipped on its back upon landing. It was a miracle that its occupant managed to escape without injuries.
Another danger was accidental confrontation with German fighter planes. From reading the diaries of Horthy's aide-de-camp, reproduced in this volume, it becomes evident that on more than one occasion the Hungarians and their German allies mistook each other for enemy aircraft, and fired on each other. Horthy's unit shot down at least one German aircraft, and some of its planes (including Horthy's) sustained damage from German fighters shooting back at them. It seems in retrospect, that Horthy's unit suffered far more from accidents and "friendly fire," than it did from damage inflicted by the aircraft of the Red Air Force.
On August 20, Horthy was to go on his last assignment to accompany German bombers on their usual pre-dawn mission against Russian positions. Later on in the day he was scheduled to inspect Hungarian infantry units located in the region and, soon thereafter, he was to begin preparations for his return trip to Hungary. This mission proved to be Horthy's last act of his life. While circling a nearby airstrip from where additional Hungarian planes were to join his small formation, his plane crashed. The troops that converged on the crash-site covered the burning plane with earth to extinguish the fire. Once freed from the wreckage and the dirt piled on it, Horthy's charred corpse was identified by his aide-de-camp.
Hungarian military personnel in the air at the time, or on the ground near the scene of the crash, tried to explain the tragedy. One pilot in Horthy's small team was convinced that Horthy's plane malfunctioned before it went into a dive taking its occupant to his death. A sentry on duty at a nearby Hungarian military installation claims to have seen Horthy's plane on fire before it went into a dive. The same soldier relates that the morning of that day was unusually calm: there was no artillery or even gunfire to be heard, and the only planes visible in the sky at the time were those of the Hungarian Air Force.
Horthy's plane then, could not have been shot down. Was it sabotaged on the ground before it took off? Indeed, it received servicing and minor repairs the day before its fated flight, and, as some of the men serving with Horthy testified, German airmen were often present at the airfield, as they usually walked about the place unhindered. Yet, could they have had access to the plane and, wasn't there a high chance that any tampering with Horthy's plane would have been discovered? We have information from Horthy's aide-de-camp's diaries to the effect that Horthy inspected his plane after these repairs and found it in order.
No further suspicious circumstances are produced in this volume by the testimony of those who served with Horthy on the front. In fact, the rest of the reminiscences printed in this volume are by people who had known Horthy or had worked under him in his various administrative positions - one of these was being the C.E.O. of the Hungarian state railways before 1942. Most of these recollections were written in the months after István Horthy's death and were first published in 1943. Their tone conforms to the standard that was evidently expected in such work of tribute to the second highest-ranking member of Hungary's first family.
While the book under review does not solve the mystery of István Horthy's death, it throws light on his character, his career as a military aviator, the conditions which confronted Hungary's soldiers in occupied Soviet lands.
Nándor F. Dreisziger
Royal Military College of Canada
Laura-Louise Veress. Clear the Line: Hungary's Struggle to
Leave the Axis During the Second World War. Dalma Takács, ed. Cleveland,
Ohio: Prospero, 1995. Pp. xxii, 404. Paper. $24.95 (U.S). ISBN 1 57087 207 4.
Available from the editor: P.O. Box 21011, Cleveland, OH 44121, U.S.A.
Historical texts can be dry and therefore difficult to enjoy. What a great difference it makes when such an account is also a personal one. Clear the Line... is a memoir of two people, who met while working for the Revisionist League in Budapest, and whose loyalty to and love of their homeland were the defining factors of most of their lives. Although the book was started by László (Leslie) Veress, he passed away before completing it; it was finished by his wife and collaborator, Laura-Louise Veress.
The story recounts the personal experience of the diplomat, Leslie Veress, who was entrusted by the Hungarian government to conduct secret negotiations with the British, for the purpose of breaking contact with Hitler's Germany and surrendering to the Allies. What makes this account especially interesting and valuable is a generous inclusion of military and political documents relating to the Allies' role in these negotiations including British reactions to Hungary's offer of surrender. These documents were kept under lock-and-key in the Public Record Office in London, and were only made public 30 years after the war.
The book also talks about Hungary's difficult position as a land-locked nation, her desire and efforts to remain independent and, finally, her reasons for allying herself with Hitler's Germany. For believing Hitler's promise of help in regaining her territories lost at the end of World War I, Hungary ended up paying the high price of having to contribute to the German war effort and being branded as Hitler's ally.
By 1943 the government of Hungary was playing a difficult balancing act: it was looking for a way out of the clutches of Hitler and sought contact with the Allies with the intention of surrender; further, it tried gradually to replace pro-German members of the government with anti-German ones; and, lastly it made efforts to protect the country's Jews. Hungary had to proceed with great caution in order not to bring Hitler's rage upon the country.
To avoid the suspicion of the Germans, whose authorization was necessary for travel outside of Hungary, a low-ranking, therefore inconspicuous, diplomat had to be selected for negotiating with the Allies. László Veress - who was from a good family, multilingual, and familiar with international affairs - was an ideal choice. During the course of events, he made several trips to Istanbul and Lisbon where he met British consular officials, and conducted fairly promising negotiations on behalf of the Hungarian government. However, before these became finalized, in a quick succession of events, Hitler invaded Hungary with horrible consequences. The Allies, in the meantime, embarked on their final offensive against Hitler through Normandy and not through the Balkans as many in Hungary had hoped.
Shortly after the war, Veress and his future wife, together with their immediate families, sought asylum in England where they both worked for the Hungarian Section of the BBC.
Esther E. Vitalis
Vancouver
Red Star, Blue Star: the Lives and Times of Jewish Students in Communist Hungary (1948-1956) Compiled and edited by Andrew Handler and Susan V. Meschel. Boulder, CO.: East European Monographs (New York: Columbia University Press, 1997). Cloth: $31.50 (US).
Red Star, Blue Star is an unusual book. Though poorly organized, it is still a compelling anthology of Jewish autobiographical writing. Comprised of seventeen personal stories or short life writing texts, the book's aim is to record the experiences of young Jewish men and women during the post-war period in Hungary. The narrators of these stories were all children or teens living in Hungary in 1948 when Hungary became a Soviet satellite nation. The assumption of the editors is that "[b]eing Jewish in a Communist country meant being out of sight but not out of mind" (x). Thus, the majority of the stories told in the collection recall the anguish and the bravery of living under Stalin's eye, and sometimes this intersects with the experience of anti-Semitism. Andrew Handler, one of the story-tellers, writes in a long introductory essay to the collection that "[e]nding the war as the last ally of the Third Reich and the last executors of the Final Solution of the Jewish Question left permanent scars on the national character. The provisional system of governance proved not to be a prelude to democracy." Handler's conclusion is the ironic observation that "the liberators turned out to be occupiers" (7). In other words, the anti-Semitism that was rife in the final stages of the war in Hungary grew into a new form during the communist era, the victims of which are the Jews whose stories are told here. The truth is that not all the story-tellers focus on anti-Semitism, but all regret the period of Russian domination.
The majority of the story-tellers eventually left Hungary, most after the uprising of 1956. Though many are academics in the West, some are prominent members of the business community in various American cities - Washington and Los Angeles, for example. Yet a few more remained in Budapest, such as two of the three women represented in the book - Éva Székely and Márta Hentz.
The stories are interesting, some more than others, and some better written (and better edited) than others. What the stories lack is a proper introduction which contextualizes them, and an obvious sense of ordering. As they stand now, they seem to be randomly placed in a long line of uninterrupted contents referred to only as "Part Two." (This means that the introduction is "Part One.") A clearly articulated Table of Contents might at least provide an ordering principle to help the reader link details, themes, experiences of internal deportation or perhaps emigration. How each story illustrates what I assume is the thrust of the book - anti-Semitism did not die in Hungary with the end of the Holocaust - would be a happy conclusion to the multitude of experiences and ideas expressed by the narrators. Moreover, the experiences and ideas expressed by the narrators do not necessarily coincide with the objectives of the introductory essay leaving me to wonder what the purpose of the editors is. Having said this, the stories themselves are interesting recollections of a period of Hungarian history not often discussed by Jewish survivors of the Holocaust and although not mentioned and not problematized, the issue of gender is prominent. Only three of seventeen stories are by women, two of those women remained in Budapest, and among the other 17 stories, women's roles are often implicated. Take for, example, the most poignant of the stories, "My Blue Velvet Dress," where the once-buried blue velvet cloth is all that remains of Susan V. Meschel's beloved father as she crosses the Hungarian border "into freedom" (143).
The book has some meaning for Canadian readers for two reasons: first, the introductory essay ends with an all too brief reference to the György Landeszmann affair (38-9), and second, the final life story, "Turnaround," is told by Peter Barta, a professor of electrical engineering at Ryerson Polytechnic University in Toronto. Although "Turnaround" ends too abruptly, it tells the story of an adolescence spent in Miskolc by a "Budapest kid" who "longed for Budapest" and its "Eleventh District, Gellert Hill, Horthy Circle (now Zsigmond Moricz Circle), Bottomless Lake, our temple, and the railway tracks going toward Vienna." This image of the railway tracks is metaphoric: most of the narrators fulfil their longing to escape Hungary and emigrate to the United States, Norway, Denmark, Sweden and, in one case, Toronto. Indeed, readers will notice that certain countries of immigration are over-represented, as are certain professions. Many of the tellers are scientists or engineers, often working in an academic setting. Some of the writers, however, such as Andrew Handler himself, and Paul Hollander, are professors of history and sociology respectively, at American universities. Perhaps most dramatic among the stories is Hollander's. A school-mate of the Hungarian dissident, George Konrád, Hollander was forced to leave Budapest with his family at nineteen years of age to take up a wretched existence with a "peasant family also regarded with disfavor by the authorities" (107). Hollander is quick to say that his "difficulties in Hungary between 1948-1956 had nothing or little to do with being Jewish" (107). Instead, he pays the price for the financial success of his maternal grandfather which, he admits, is the plight of many Jews in Europe who survived as businessmen, industrialists and property owners (102). Refreshing is Hollander's measured sense of change. Glad to leave Hungary in a way, he is less romantic than his colleagues about the problems he will face in the West where "there were more choices to make and the problems to be faced were no longer political" (115).
Marlene Kadar
York University
Az 1956-os magyar forradalom a világpolitikában: Tanulmány és válogatott dokumentumok [The 1956 Hungarian Revolution in World Politics: A Study and Selected Documents]. Csaba Békés, ed. and comp. Budapest: 1956-os Intézet, 1996. Pp. 184. Paper.
This volume was produced and published under the aegis of the 1956 Institute in Budapest, an institution that has seen its funding slashed recently. It is a fine work, like many of the others produced by the 1956 Institute, offering useful documents and well as an excellent introduction to the subject.
Békés's 74-page introductory study in this volume is a succinct and lucid examination of the international context and impact of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, written in the light of recently released secret documents. The author's main argument is that in October and November of 1956 the great powers of the world acted purely on the basis of perceived self-interest. In particular, the United States, the leading power of the "Free World," did not want to see the events in Hungary derail the process of increasing accommodation between the West and the USSR. By this time, the leaders of the US had acknowledged Eastern Europe to be in the Soviet sphere of interest and their policy towards the Soviets had accepted the importance of negotiations over confrontation; as a result, they wanted to make sure that this status quo was not upset by events in Hungary. Notwithstanding this desire, the Americans also wanted to make sure that the world did not get the impression that the US would do nothing in response to the Soviet intervention in Hungary. The result was a major chasm between American rhetoric and action - or more precisely, inaction - which had disastrous impact on the outcome of events. The attitudes of the other great powers were equally self-serving. France and England had more of an interest in unrest in Hungary than the US, but only as a factor that diverted Soviet attention from the Middle East. The Soviets themselves would have preferred a Polish-style resolution to the crisis, but they were ready to intervene if this was not possible and the existing Marxist-Leninist order in Hungary appeared threatened.
Békés devotes most of his attention to an analysis of American policy. In this connection he observes that Washington's two-faced policy of proclaiming the need to "liberate" Eastern Europe from Soviet rule while seeking peaceful accommodation with Moscow became especially pronounced after the advent to power of the Eisenhower administration in January of 1953. Under Eisenhower, funds were made available to such establishment as Radio Free Europe, as well as anti-Soviet emigre organizations and their publications. In reality, American diplomacy increasingly sought negotiated solutions to such East-West issues as the question of Germany and the status of Austria. By the mid-1950s, Washington did not contemplate any interference in Eastern Europe, nor did it expect any fundamental change there. The only possible change there that was seen as possible by a few American analysts, was the spread of the "Yugoslav model" of communism. Not surprisingly under the circumstances, when an anti-Soviet uprising broke out in Budapest in October, 1956, the Eisenhower administration was taken by complete surprise.
In Moscow, the outbreak of trouble in Hungary was not entirely unanticipated. Ever since the disturbances in Posnan, East Germany, the Soviet leadership watched East European developments with concern, and sought to resolve them by political means - such as the removal from power of such unpopular leaders as Mátyás Rákosi. Nevertheless, the Soviet leaders informed Yugoslav leader Tito at the time that, should serious trouble break out in Soviet-controlled Eastern Europe, they would not hesitate to use any means necessary to preserve their control.
This then was the attitude of the Great Powers to Hungary before October, 1956. Békés stresses that, contrary to the charges made by Moscow later, Washington did not plan to provoke or incite a revolt in Hungary. In this connection he points out that, while the Americans were not guilty of plotting trouble, by their constant anti-Soviet propaganda, they spread the conviction among Hungarians that America would come to their aid should a struggle for freedom erupt or, at the least, it would put overwhelming diplomatic pressure on the Soviets to accept the independence of Hungary.
Diplomatic efforts to this end were most unlikely to succeed. Soviet attitudes and behaviour since 1945 made it extremely doubtful that the Kremlin would accept any significant change in the post-war strategic status quo in Europe, especially the departure of Hungary from the Soviet satellite empire. True, only a year earlier, the Kremlin had accepted the neutralization of Austria, but in this instance the Soviets received substantial counter-concessions from the West: the departure of Western occupation troops from western and central Austria. Furthermore, it should be remembered that in Austria there was no Soviet control over the government to give up in 1955, unlike the scenario the Soviets would have faced in Hungary a year later if they conceded Hungarian independence.
Even though the Soviets were determined not to give up Hungary, in the early days of the revolution they were anxious to use caution and circumspection. To resolve the crisis, they were even ready to make some concessions. We know now that the Kremlin was most reluctant to commit Soviet troops stationed in Hungary to quell the disturbances and agreed to do so only on the pleadings of Ernő Gerő and Soviet Ambassador to Budapest Yuri Andropov. At one point the Kremlin even contemplated the admission of a few formerly non-communist leaders to Hungary's government, should such a gesture resolve the crisis. Such concessions, however, did not satisfy the Hungarians' yearning for multi-party democracy and neutrality in the realm of international relations.
As time passed and the crisis deepened, the Soviet leaders became willing to make even greater compromises in their desire to avoid a military showdown. They were, however, unwilling to yield on four essential points: the control of Hungary's government (i.e. the principle of one party rule), of her security forces, armed forces, and the media. At the same time, Hungary's masses, whose appetite was only whetted by the concessions made and promised, were increasingly reluctant to accept anything short of freedom from Soviet control.
In the early days of the revolution, the people demanding reform and change had the sympathies of several governments in the Communist camp. These included the leadership in Beijing and Belgrade. Soon, however, the former were brought aboard and, in the end, provided complete support for Soviet decision-making. In Belgrade, Tito had hoped at first that what would evolve in Hungary would be the Yugoslav model of national communism, but by the first hours of November it was increasingly clear to him that the model the Hungarian leadership aspired to resembled more that of Austrian neutrality. Consequently, when Tito received a high-ranking Soviet delegation on Brioni Island on the 2nd and 3rd of the new month, he voiced his agreement with the Soviet plan to crush the Hungarian uprising.
In the West, the events in Budapest evoked reactions of "extreme caution," motivated no doubt by the fear that conflict with the Soviets would lead to a military showdown, involving probably nuclear war (p. 54). Collective diplomatic action by the West might have prompted the Soviets to change their plans regarding Hungary, but the chances of such action greatly diminished with the outbreak of the Suez Crisis at the end of October. The author points out that this development not only prevented combined US-British-French diplomatic action in support of Hungary, but frustrated attempts to coordinate the strategy of the anti-Soviet forces in the United Nations. Under the circumstances, a condemnation of Soviet actions by the UN's General Assembly could be passed only after the start of the Soviet invasion of Hungary on Nov. 4, by which time it could have no impact on Soviet decision-making. Békés reminds us that, of course, it cannot be taken for granted that effective action by the UN, even if taken a few days earlier, could have had significant impact on the Soviets. He concludes that the Suez Crisis made the work of the Soviet leaders much easier, but there is little indication that without it the outcome of events in Hungary would have been different (p. 67).
In turning to the consequences of the Revolution for the evolution of international diplomacy, Békés observes that the crushing of the Hungarian uprising proved the bankruptcy of the proclaimed American policy of "rolling back" the Iron Curtain. Indeed, from 1956 on, the chasm between American rhetoric and actions came to an end, and the United States began accepting, not only in actual fact but also in its pronouncements, the division of Europe that had been in effect for the better part of a decade. The defeat sustained by the leading nation of the West, along with the advances made in Soviet military technology in 1956 and soon thereafter, contributed to the growth of confidence in Moscow that the race for strategic supremacy had been won (p. 61). Eventually this confidence gave way to overconfidence which was not dispelled - or, at least, shaken - until the Cuban missile crisis a few years later.
Békés mentions an interesting "might have been" of the Hungarian revolution. He points out that the events in Hungary of 1956 created such a deterioration in East-West relations that reconciliation became impossible and the Cold War dragged on with all its fury. Had there been no crisis in 1956, the Americans and the Soviets might have come to some settlement of their differences - including mutual demilitarization - in which case the arms race would have moderated. In this case the Soviet economy would not have collapsed three decades later and the U.S.S.R. could be still around today (p. 72). The Hungarian Revolution then, might have been the cause of the historical processes that eventually saw the collapse of the Soviet Union, in more ways than one.
Much more could be said bout this fine study, but the above should give a good illustration of Békés's scholarship and arguments. The only concern and regret I want to express is that with the decline in the 1956 Institute's funding, in the future works such as this one might encounter more problems in being researched and published.
N.F. Dreisziger
Royal Military College of Canada