The only temple of tyranny I have entered was at Memento Park on the outskirts of Budapest. The entrance to the Statue Park portion of the site managed to be both strangely familiar and frighteningly unique. It consisted of a neo-classical façade constructed out of red brick. On one side was a statue of Lenin, while on the other side was a statue of Marx and Engels. The former portrayed Lenin as serious and studious, while the latter was the only cubist statue of Marx and Engels to be found anywhere in the world. It was not surprising to find these deities of communist ideology at the entrance. Both statues were done in socialist-realist style, the pervasive and aesthetically displeasing artistic form in communist countries. Seared into the entrance gate was “One Sentence About Tyranny” by the Hungarian poet Gyula Ilyes. The poem is one sentence that happens to be fifty-four stanzas long. I did not need to read any of the words to know by the way it was written that the poem was a warning.
I entered the gate with both eagerness and trepidation. Suddenly I saw the statues, sculptures, friezes, bas-reliefs and plaques scattered along dirt pathways. Each of these pieces once stood in a prominent place somewhere in Budapest, now they were reduced to the city’s fringes. The forty-two pieces on display were impressive or depressive depending upon one’s perspective and extremely charismatic. Emphasis should be placed on “extremely” because there was nothing moderate or benign about these statues. They were slanted towards a single ideology. Each was as unyielding as the system they glorified. Fierce faces, serious expressions and ferocious poses were their hallmarks. The figures were marshaled and ready for a fight to the finish against invisible enemies.
Twinges of Madness – The Will To Power
Photogenic was one word that immediately came to mind as I looked over the statues. The risk with viewing the contents of Statue Park this way was that they might be defined as communist kitsch. These statues were nothing of the sort. They were harbingers of a life and death struggle. Back in their day, each one reigned supreme over the squares, streets and sidewalks of Budapest. A constant reminder to the masses of what their rulers stood for or against. The pieces were propaganda with a pulse. They died a slow death over many decades. Now they were buried above ground for curious onlookers such as myself to spend time scrutinizing.
One of the most interesting pieces for me was a statue of a half Lenin beside a frieze of soldiers lying on their sides. Lenin was only visible from the waist up, his face grave and determined. I could sense a snarl lurking behind his expression. From the looks of it, he seemed to be in the process of delivering his usual revolutionary rhetoric. To the side of him were soldiers and workers lying flat upon the ground. I imagined this for what it was not meant to be, a metaphor for the millions who were laid low by the revolution Lenin worked so tirelessly to promulgate. There was a twinge of madness about the piece. The same could be said of Lenin’s dream of worldwide revolution which turned lethal for those who followed his words with deeds. It eventually became a nightmare for almost everyone infected with communist zeal. One could not look at such a piece of art and feel anything other than fervor, discontent and the will to power.
A Pantheon of Has Beens – The Presence of a More Recent Past
One of the more disconcerting aspects in Statue Park were the many pieces on display of officials and personages who I had never heard of before. At the front entrance had been those who were synonymous with communism, but scattered about the park were more anonymous personages. I consider myself rather well read on the communist era in Hungarian history, but some of those glorified in stone had more in common with missing persons than they did the Kadar’s, Rakosi’s and Nagy’s of that era. These included such low level luminaries as Ede Chlepko (one of the founders of the Hungarian Communist Party who ended up dying in a Soviet prison), Janos Asztalos and Kalman Turner who both died while fighting for the communist party in the 1956 Revolution) and Robert Kreutz (his most notable trait was passing out leaflets and getting himself shot by the Germans in 1944). There were several more of these heroes who used to be glorified. Here was a pantheon of has beens. Usually they met a violent end. It was hard to find anyone who lived past the age of 60. Communism was hard on the masses, it was often worse for its heroes.
Some of the statues on display were of such force that it was hard not to have an emotional reaction when confronted with them. The one that looked most furious to me was the Monument to the Hungarian Socialist Republic, which portrayed a man running with full force, his fists thrust outward while he gave a full-throated scream. In his left fist he gripped what looked like a scarf, but more likely was a banner. The energy and dynamism of this statue was highly impressive. This was the pose of a zealot rushing toward revolution. The revolution certainly did not falter for lack of belief or motivation. The forty-two pieces on display all seemed rather lonely figures despite being surrounded by their fellow travelers. Propaganda taken out of context from the political passion and turmoil which gave rise to it was rather hard for me to comprehend.
Silent Witnesses – Shaking Hands & Fists
Of course there were statues of soldiers. They looked solid, committed and ready for battle. Perhaps the most important of these from a historical standpoint were part of the Hungarian-Soviet Friendship Memorial. The Memorial consisted of two figures, a Soviet soldier and a Hungarian worker. The Soviet soldier offered his hand in “friendship”, but his posture was restrained while the Hungarian worker grasped the Soviet soldier’s hand with both of his own. The Soviets were obviously in charge. The memorial was completed in 1956. With the failure of the Hungarian Revolution that autumn, it was obvious the Soviets were going stay in charge. Their continued occupation led to the creation of even more statues, many of which still stand today as silent witnesses at Memento Park.