Seeds of Separation – From Szatmar To Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #13)

The more I learned about Satu Mare in the 20^th century, the more I believed it had suffered from a terrible run of luck. The dreadful situation Satu Mare found itself in on multiple occasions seemed unique. Surely this was the only time in Satu Mare’s history that it found itself repeatedly in the crosshairs of history. When I took a deeper dive into the city’s history, I discovered that Satu Mare had been through other tumultuous times, one of which occurred with alarming frequency. Learning this taught me just how much upheaval can be found in history if you are willing to dig deep enough.

Szatmar Castle – Island fortress

Invasive Species – Wave After Wave
The violence and chaos that occurred in Satu Mare from 1918 to 1945 was exceptional, but not unprecedented. There have been other calamitous times in the city’s history. In some of those cases Satu Mare was the target, rather than collateral damage. Invasions led to devastation and occupation. Such cases are not well known for a simple reason, they occurred hundreds of years ago and are obscured by more recent cataclysms. Satu Mare’s deeper past led me to wonder why it was prone to upheaval on numerous occasions. First and foremost, the city is not unique in the annals of Eastern European history. The region has suffered wave after wave of invasions by outside forces attempting to assert control. The invaders had a habit of sweeping all that stood before them. The Hungarians were successful in doing this at the end of the 9^th century. Three and a half centuries later, they were on the receiving end of another rampaging horde.

The Mongol Invasion in 1241-1242 stormed across Hungary, killing half the population. Along the way it obliterated Satu Mare. This was the beginning of a recurring trend, where Satu Mare (then known as Szatmar) was threatened by invaders from all points of the compass. Germans from the north and west, the Ottoman Turks from the south, and Soviets from the east. Satu Mare, much like the rest of Eastern Europe, does not have easily defensible frontiers. This leaves it open to attack. The Carpathian Basin is exposed from all sides. In military terms, it is always best to hold high ground. Those who inhabit basins are at a disadvantage. Armies have repeatedly found Satu Mare a target too good to pass up.

Satu Mare also suffered at the hands of invaders due to its location on a regional fault line during the 16^th and 17^th centuries. The city was located at a tripoint where the border of Royal (Habsburg) Hungary, Transylvania, and Ottoman occupied Hungary collided. This fact has been lost to all but history. So much time has passed since then that it is easy to forget just how violent these borderlands were four hundred years ago. The border between the Ottoman occupied areas and Hungary-Croatia stretched for a thousand kilometers. A vast and lawless no man’s land where banditry, massacres, and slave raiding were rife. Skirmishes, battles, and full-scale wars were fought along the border. These bitter struggles were marked by depopulation and despoliation of the landscape.

Keeping the powder dry – Szatmar Castle

Collision Course – Szatmar Castle
For any place to have a chance of survival in such a brutal environment it had to be heavily fortified. Satu Mare used to have one of the strongest castles in Eastern Europe. The reputation of Szatmar Castle is such that even today, it warrants numerous mentions in Hungarian museums. For the longest time, I wondered where Szatmar Castle was located and if it could be visited. That is impossible since it was destroyed in the early 18^th century. What a sight Szatmar Castle must have been. The castle was surrounded on several sides by the Somos (Szatmar) River. The marshy terrain and stout defensive works made it extremely difficult for enemy armies to take it. That never stopped them from trying to subdue it on multiple occasions. Those efforts sometimes met with success. The prize of holding such a strongly fortified work at an important strategic junction made it worth an attempt. This was an opportunity few armies could pass up.

During the 16^th and 17^th centuries, Hungary was caught in a life-or-death struggle for its existence not only with the Ottoman Turks, but also the Habsburgs who took it upon themselves to help Hungary’s cause by taking a large swath of it under their control. The three-way fight between Hungarians, Habsburgs (with a sizable proportion of Hungarians aligned with them), and the Turks put Szatmar Castle at the center of the military fight for supremacy. Though west of the Carpathians, Szatmar Castle guarded the entrance to Transylvania which was autonomous during this time. Battles for the castle ensued between the Habsburgs, Turks, and Hungarians (both from Upper Hungary and Transylvania). It was also of prime economic importance because the lucrative salt trade from the nearby mine at Deskana flowed through Szatmar.

Military forces clashed multiple times as they battled to take the stronghold. The most intense period occurred from 1645 to 1691. On at least nine occasions Hungarian, Turkish, Habsburg, and Polish military forces were involved in attacks on Szatmar Castle. The castle changed hands five times during that period. Only when the Habsburgs emerged as the final victors in the early 18^th century did Szatmar find peace. By that time, tens of thousands had lost their lives. The 20^th century was a terrible time for Satu Mare, the latter half of the 17^th century matched it.

Minaret mimic – Fire tower in Satu Mare (Credit: Zsolt Balog)

Staking Claims – Depopulation & Repopulation
Hungarian territory was so depopulated by perpetual warfare during the Ottoman occupation (1526 – 1686) that after it was reconquered, the Habsburgs settled Swabians, Serbs, Slovaks, and Romanians throughout the Kingdom of Hungary. The percentage of Hungarians compared to other ethnic groups was irreparably altered. This would come back to haunt Hungary in the Treaty of Trianon when those groups were able to claim a share of Hungarian territory. The seeds of separation for the lost lands of historic Hungary were sown by the interminable fighting over places like Szatmar. Hundreds of thousands of Hungarians died fighting for their soil in the 16^th and 17^th century. The upshot was that in the 20^th century other ethnic groups would take it. This history goes some way in explaining how Szatmar became Satu Mare.

Coming soon: Dreams & Nightmares – The Journey To Berehove (The Lost Lands #14)

Extreme Turbulence – Satu Mare’s Tumultuous Past (The Lost Lands #12)

When I started researching the Treaty of Trianon’s effect on Satu Mare, it felt like I had inadvertently opened a pandora’s box of problems. Trianon was bad for the city, but so were many other things during the first half of the 20^th century. Satu Mare was affected by numerous catastrophes between the end of the First and Second World Wars. Invasions, occupations, communism, fascism, toxic nationalism, shifting borders, vanished empires, Hungarian, Romanian, German, and Soviet Armies. The city kept switching hands. From the Austro-Hungarian Empire to Hungary to Romania, then back to Hungary, and finally part of Romania, Satu Mare was handed back and forth. At times, it was a chip between demagogues and dictatorships. The situation in Satu Mare went from bad to worse to awful between 1918 and 1945.

After World War II, the city’s shifting geopolitical fortunes finally settled down. Unfortunately, communist Romania was not any kinder to the citizens of Satu Mare. Ethnic Hungarians were not trusted and treated in discriminatory fashion. The regime flooded the citizens with Romanians, but they did not fare much better. The Ceausescu government held all of Romania’s citizens in contempt and treated them with utter disdain. The apparatchiks and security services made out like bandits at the expense of everyone else.

Survivor – Satu Mare

Holding Pattern – Murmurs of Discontent
With the collapse of communism in Romania at the end of 1989, it looked like Satu Mare’s fortunes would finally take a turn for the better. The city had weathered extreme turbulence for seventy-one years. Perhaps it could now enjoy a bit of prosperity. Many of its citizens did this by migrating abroad.  The opening of Romania’s borders sent thousands of Satu Mare’s citizens fleeing westward in search of better job prospects. Between 1992 and 2021, Satu Mare lost 40,000 people. Joining the European Union in 2007 did not stem the flow of outward migration. Since then, Satu Mare has lost 17,000 of those 40,000. The phrase, “cannot win for losing comes to mind” when considering the past one hundred years in Satu Mare.

The conflicts and consternation of the 20^th century have left deep scars. Judging by past performance, who would dare think Satu Mare might get better. The best that can be said is the situation in Satu Mare has stabilized. It is neither poor nor prosperous. Economically the city is stuck in between. This holding pattern presents an upgrade from past experiences.
While researching the city, I began to wonder how any place could have survived all the cataclysms that struck it. I have seen this film before in other parts of Eastern Europe and it still manages to frighten.

Repeat performances do not make it any easier to contemplate. I have spent time in many Romanian cities asking myself how those horrors could happen in the place where I was standing. One of the most unsettling experiences is to be in a city where the people are going about their daily routines without so much as a murmur of discontent, then to think about how it was radically different only a few generations ago. Normalcy feels like a success in such places. The people might not be rich, and they might not be poor, but they are now able to earn a livelihood without fear of recrimination or reprisals from their government. Daily life may be dull, but that dullness is liberation from the past.

Daily reminder – Administrative Palace in Satu Mare built during the Ceausescu era
(Credit: Andrasfi1027)

Scripted – Role Playing Games
It has often been said that people can get used to anything, but I am not so sure anyone in Satu Mare ever got used to the continual geopolitical upheaval that befell the city. I imagine that many tried to get on with life and ignore politics. The problem was that they might not have been interested in politics, but politics was interested in them.  The amount of contortions a citizen of Satu Mare did to avoid being on the wrong side defied the laws of physics. To say the situation was fluid in Satu Mare for almost thirty years states the obvious. How did people manage to survive among so much tumult? They had to be extremely clever or conniving, very lucky or totally anonymous.

War was a different matter altogether. Impossible to ignore because of its lethality. Interestingly, war in Satu Mare did not always mean shots were fired. War might mean being targeted for one’s ethnicity, class, political affiliation, or religion. Depending on the period, being a Hungarian, Romanian, German, or Jew made you a live target. Being an aristocrat, fascist, socialist, or communist was the same. Definitions of who was an enemy of the state changed along with regimes. The insanity of it all meant just minding your own business could make you a target.

Everyone was given a label. This was also true during the Austro-Hungarian Empire, but the outcomes were rarely lethal. Neither were they done to destroy livelihoods. All of that changed after the First World War and the postwar peace process. Trianon was an agent of change that exacerbated matters. Division along ethnic lines pulled people even further apart then they were in Austria-Hungary. Divide and conquer, then subdivide and conquer again and again. The interesting thing is that whatever the regime, the same thing kept happening. The German Jewish Philosopher Hannah Arendt was right when she identified that Nazism and Stalinism were more alike than they were different. Satu Mare suffered at the hands of similar offenders. The ideologies changed, but the script stayed the same. 

Normal upbringing – City center of Satu Mare (Szatmarnemeti) in 1907 (Credit: Fortepan)

Radical & Benign – The Real Revolution
Those who were savvy or malevolent switched from one side to the other when regimes changed. This phenomenon was reminiscent of the famous quote in Giuseppe Di Lampedusa’s novel, The Leopard, “Things will have to change in order that they remain the same.” And that is exactly what happened again and again until the cycle was broken. The only truly radical change in Satu Mare was one that in retrospect seems to be the most benign. This was the post-communist period that started at the end of 1989 when Satu Mare began its move towards relative normalcy. It was the first time since 1914 that a sense of moderation returned. The worst was over, but Satu Mare’s deeper history demonstrates that the city has suffered through terrible periods of warfare and calamity prior to the 20^th century.

Coming soon: The violence and chaos that occurred in Satu Mare from 1918 to 1945 was exceptional, but not unprecedented. There have been other calamitous times in the city’s history. In some of those cases Satu Mare was the target, rather than collateral damage. Invasions led to devastation and occupation. Such cases are not well known for a simple reason, they occurred hundreds of years ago and are obscured by more recent cataclysms. Satu Mare’s deeper past led me to wonder why it was prone to upheaval on numerous occasions. First and foremost, the city is not unique in the annals of Eastern European history. The region has suffered wave after wave of invasions by outside forces attempting to assert control. The invaders had a habit of sweeping all that stood before them. The Hungarians were successful in doing this at the end of the 9^th century. Three and a half centuries later, they were on the receiving end of another rampaging horde.

Click here for: Seeds of Separation – From Szatmar To Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #13)

Ghosts In The Darkness – The Jews of Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #11)

The Treaty of Trianon is the seminal tragedy in the modern history of Hungary. There are no blessings in disguise or trying to look on the bright side of Trianon for Hungarians. Silver linings do not exist. There is only a void. One that has been filled by over a century of mourning. Sometimes, I wonder if Hungarians will ever get over Trianon. Or more precisely whether their politicians will allow them to. Trianon is always good as a vote getter. The treaty’s uses and abuses allow politicians to burnish their nationalist credentials. While communism and fascism have very bad names for the deadly role they played in Hungary and the rest of Europe during the 20th century.

Nationalism also led to mass bloodletting, but it has a better reputation. It is not hard to understand why. Nationalism can be a force for the greater good as it unites disparate strands of society together to support the nation. That feeling of togetherness can be intoxicating. On the other hand, nationalism can fuel extremism and lead to the exclusion of non-dominant groups such as ethnic minorities. This happened all across Europe during the first half of the 20th century, including Hungary. The Treaty of Trianon was one of the events that added fuel to the fires of extremism. The consequences were felt most acutely by Hungarian Jews.

Never forget – Holocaust Memorial in Satu Mare (Credit: Eladkarmel)

Soft Targets – An Internal Threat
In the wake of World War I and Trianon, Hungary was beset by a blame game. Someone had to take the fall for what happened. The search for scapegoats was on. These could no longer be the national minorities since Trianon took them away. Romanians, Slovaks, Serbs, and Ruthenians were on the other side of new borders. The states to which they belonged provided them with protection. Before the war, these minorities were almost half the population in Transleithania, the Hungarian administered portion of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. When Hungary’s borders were shrunk by Trianon, the only sizable minority groups left in Hungary were ethnic Germans, Jews, and Roma. The Germans in Hungary (referred to as Swabians) were de facto protected by Germany, which despite losing the war came out of it as the most powerful nation in Europe. The Roma were not viewed as a threat due to their nomadic nature and distinctiveness of their culture.

Jews were in the most precarious position, as they had no patron anywhere else in Europe and nowhere else to go (Israel did not exist until 1948). Zionism was only really getting started. On the other hand, antisemitism already had a long history in Hungary. By the early 20th century, Jews held powerful positions in business, politics, medicine, legal affairs and culture while the landed aristocracy had experienced a commensurate decline in their fortunes. This coalesced with pre-existing anti-Jewish attitudes. Losing social status as Jews rose through the professional ranks was more than many aristocrats could stomach. Hungarian Jews were scapegoated and viewed as synonymous with socialism and communism. In a post-Trianon environment marked by resentment, Jews were an easy target. The Second World War put another target on their backs. 

On the verge – Crowd awaiting entry of Hungarian troops after Satu Mare becomes part of Hungary again in 1940 (Credit: Fortepan)

Hate Crimes – A Change In Fortunes
Between the wars, antisemitism was a fact of life in Hungary. The same was true in Romania. Jews in both countries were increasingly treated as outcasts. Thousands were taken away as forced laborers. The Jews of Satu Mare had the added problem of being stuck in the middle between Hungary and Romania over the contested lands affected by Trianon. When Satu Mare came back into the possession of Hungary due to the Second Vienna Award in 1940, the Jews who lived there had grounds for a bit of optimism. They had enjoyed a golden age in Austria-Hungary. Prior to World War I, the Jews dominated many aspects of Satu Mare’s economy. A fifth owned local trading and industrial companies were owned by the city’s Jews. Jews were 40% of Satu Mare’s lawyers and half its doctors. 70% were connected to banking and industry. They had played an outsized role in the city’s economic and cultural development. But this all happened before Trianon poisoned everything. Hungary had been changed forever by the treaty.

Now Satu Mare’s Jews found themselves back under Hungarian rule. This turned out to be a life saver, but only for a few years. Whereas Jews in Romania were under genocidal attack starting in 1941, it would take longer for their dire situation in Hungary to manifest itself. Their fates had been delayed, but only by a few years. When Satu Mare returned to Hungary, its Jews suffered under discriminatory laws, but at least they were not in German occupied areas of Europe. Hungary was intolerant, but not outright murderous. That all changed on March 19, 1944, when Germany invaded Hungary and met very little resistance. The days of Satu Mare’s Jews were numbered. Even though 90% spoke Hungarian, this did them no good. Suspicion and hatred surfaced with a vengeance. German occupation exacerbated these tendencies. It did not take long for the Hungarian authorities to make themselves clear about their intentions. Jews all over the country were targeted for extermination.

Lost world – Jewish family in Satu Mare before the war
(Credit: Memorial Book of the Jews of Satmar)

Lost Lives – Six Trains From Satu Mare
City administrators in Satu Mare were intimately involved in making sure Jews were denied their rights. They saw to it that the city’s Jews and those from the surrounding area were confined to a ghetto beginning in late April. Hungarian gendarmes helped round them up. The ghetto grew in size to approximately 20,000. The speed with which the arrest and deportation of Jews to the death camps occurred was breathtaking. Six transports were arranged to carry them from Satu Mare to Auschwitz. Jews all over Hungary were experiencing the same thing.

The first train left Satu Mare for Auschwitz on May 19th carrying 3,006 Jews. The last one left less than two weeks later on the first day of June. That final train carried 2,615 Jews. A total of 18,863 Jews were sent to Auschwitz of whom 14,440 were murdered there. In other words, three out of every four Jews from Satu Mare were murdered in Auschwitz. Those who managed to survive did not return to the city for long. They soon left for Israel. Today, only 34 Jews live in Satu Mare.  

Click here for: Extreme Turbulence – Satu Mare’s Tumultuous Past (The Lost Lands #12)

Losing Proposition – A Sense of Dread In Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #10)

When I locate Satu Mare on the map I get a vaguely ominous feeling. A dark premonition that something terrible has happened there. I guess you could say that about any place in Eastern Europe from 1914 – 1989. So many bad things happened in this part of Europe that the region’s reputation precedes itself. While traveling through villages, towns, and cities in the region, I have often looked at older people and wondered what horrors they witnessed, what suffering they must have endured, what survival mechanisms kept them alive. There were few worse places to be in the world during the 20^th century. World Wars I and II, along with their aftermath, were an extremely lethal time. Satu Mare was in the eye of the storm multiple times. Amid the violence, the Treaty of Trianon and concept of the lost land beyond Hungary’s borders looks mild by comparison. That is deceptive. Trianon stirred conflict and hatred that was among the forces that led to deadly conflict. Those times have now passed, but the memory and legacy of them remains strong.

Before the storm – Synagogue in Satu Mare early 20th century
(Credit: Brück & Sohn Kunstverlag Meißen)

Shared Suffering – A Not So Distant Past
When I first began travelling to Eastern Europe a decade ago, it was not uncommon for family, friends, and other acquaintances to ask me if it was safe to travel there. I would respond by saying that it was much safer than America or western Europe. I often added that they should go for a visit to see for themselves. This suggestion elicited looks of concern. The conversation would usually move on to other topics after that. I found it easy to understand why they were concerned. Their opinion of the region was grounded in relatively recent history. The Cold War, and prior to that the World Wars. To allay concerns about traveling to the region, perhaps I should have mentioned that Eastern Europe was certainly safer than it was from 1914 – 1989.  An unimaginable succession of horrors took place in every country. Eastern Europe has this period to thank for its less than savory reputation today.

I am not immune from having my opinion about the region affected by its 20^th century history. I find it insanely fascinating and terribly frightening.  Even I still wonder from time to time what unspoken horrors might still be lurking in the region. The Ukraine-Russia war confirmed some of these fears. Nevertheless, the region today is incredibly peaceful by 20^th century standards. Crime rates are low, except for corruption which continues to plague the region. It was a different story in the not-so-distant past, where when things went bad, they only seemed to get worse. Romania had some of the worst experiences. As did Hungary and Austria-Hungary. On a much smaller level, Satu Mare suffered multiple tragedies. Whomever held Satu Mare or Szatmárnémeti got more than they bargained for.

Making a historic stand – Synagogue in Satu Mare (Credit: Vyografu)

The Wrong Place – The Wrong Time
Ethnic cleansing, the Holocaust, invasions, and military occupations, Satu Mare experienced the worst aspects of humanity.  In that respect, Satu Mare is no different than many other places in the hinterlands of Eastern Europe. Scratch beneath the surface in these lands and a tragedy begins to unfold. Losing the lands of Historic Hungary is considered a tragedy by Hungarians. The Romanians who gained them had cause for celebration at the time. The backlash for both sides was soon to come. But what about those caught in the middle of this geopolitical tug of war. Those were the Jews of Satu Mare. They lost something infinitely more valuable than their lands. They lost their lives.

In one of the most insidious ironies of the Holocaust, the Jews of Satu Mare were latecomers to the Holocaust. The clock was turned back twenty years when the Second Vienna Award in 1940, arbitrated by Nazi Germany, gave Satu Mare (and northern Transylvania) back to Hungary. Overnight, Satu Mare was turned back into Szatmárnémeti once again. Population exchanges between Hungary and Romania ensued. The city’s ethnic composition was recalibrated to what it was in 1910 (90% Hungarian and 6% Romanian). The two ethnic groups were headed in different directions, albeit temporarily. They were placed in their own separate spheres of influence. This was the preferred way to keep Hungarians and Romanians at arm’s length. They were divided and left in relative isolation from one another, Even then, it was still too close for comfort. 

Looking back – Group of Jewish friends in Satu Mare in the early 20th century
(Credit: Memorial Book of the Jews of Satmar)

Conflicted Interests – The Slow Track To Oblivion
As for the Jews of Satu Mare, they found themselves protected from the worst excesses of the Holocaust for most of World War II. Hungary kept control of the lands they ruled for much of the war. The 12,360 Jews (24% of the population) in Satu Mare, a quarter of the city’s population, were relatively safe for the time being. At the same time, they were on the slow track to oblivion. This could not have been lost on some of them who had lived through the interwar period. Hungary’s defeat in World War I and the chaotic aftermath changed everything. Hungarian Jews had been the focus of discriminatory laws since 1920.

Long before the Nuremberg Laws, the Numerus clausus in Hungary was the first interwar law in Europe limiting the number of minorities in the professional classes. Though the law did not explicitly state Jews, that was who the law was aimed at. The harsh terms inflicted by the Treaty of Trianon on Hungary played a part in the discrimination suffered by Jews. Many in Hungary blamed the Jews for the calamity of the communist government which took power in 1919. It was led by Bela Kun, who was Jewish, as were over half of the Soviet commissars in his Hungarian government. When Kun’s government was toppled after less than six months, the counter-revolution was swift and brutal with Jews being among the most prominent targets of the nationalists. This was a preview of the Holocaust to come in Hungary, the lost lands, and Satu Mare.

Click here for: Ghosts In The Darkness – The Jews of Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #11)

Following The Bouncing Ball – Rediscovering Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #9)

Satu Mare (Szatmárnémeti) is only anonymous to those who have not been there. I discovered this while researching my itinerary for the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders. I went looking for the legacy of Trianon and instead found reminders that familiar things are much closer than they seem. Sometimes the familiar appear as unexpected guests. Like a bit of latent magic, I discovered connections to the city while filtering faces and names through my memory. Trianon would have to wait, first I had to follow a bouncing ball to and from Satu Mare.

Taking one for the team – CSM Satu Mare in action

Wandering Eye – Spot On A Map
What did I know about Satu Mare? That was the question I asked myself after placing it on the itinerary. My answer was not much. Satu Mare was a blind spot in my travels across Eastern Europe. I came close to it on numerous occasions, but I always tried to ignore it. There was good reason for that. Satu Mare was not on the way to anywhere I was going. I did not feel that it was worthy of a detour. In the Crisana region, Satu Mare was obscured by the sparkling gem of Oradea (Nagyvarad). It was also off the beaten path to Transylvania. The latter has such a magnetic attraction that it literally pulled me across Crisana without giving Satu Mare much thought. To be honest, if it was not so close to the Hungary-Romania border, I would probably never have noticed this mid-sized provincial city on the map. Satu Mare was a world within a world. My experience with Romania consists of Bucharest, Transylvania, Oradea, and Timisoara. Precisely in that order. Everything else is just a spot on a map denoted by various sizes of font. Satu Mare caught my eye because of its size. A detail that led my eye to wander its way. I did not think much else of it. And why would I?

Satu Mare does not have name recognition outside the region where it is located. Further confusing matters, another city an hour’s drive east of it goes by the somewhat similar name of Baia Mare. Telling one from the other, without visiting either, is difficult. Satu Mare would have been just a place on the upper left-hand corner of a Romanian map if not for a single memory. The kind of forgettable secondary interaction I have witnessed countless times while traveling. It baffles me that I can recall this one. Perhaps it was a bit of delayed destiny. I would like to think that every interaction has the potential for deeper meanings. That certain connections are waiting to be discovered. If not in the moment, then weeks, months, or even years later. There are innumerable interactions lodged deep in my memory that remain there until reactivated. I have no idea why some of these interactions come back to me, while others fade into oblivion. Maybe it has something to do with the intersection of memory and belief.

Hot shots – CSM Satu Mare

Keeping Score – For Love Of The Game
My lone experience with Satu Mare did not come in Romania, nor anywhere in Eastern Europe. Instead, it came in the Netherlands at the only place in that small, soggy, and prosperous country I have ever visited. A decade ago, I was waiting on a delayed flight from Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam back to the United States. This was the second of three flights on my journey home. The first leg had been an early morning flight from Budapest. On that flight, I noticed an athletic young African American woman wearing basketball gear. Like the other passengers she looked bleary eyed. Checking in at 6 a.m. can do that to anyone. We all had a long day ahead of us. With nothing else to do other than wait for a boarding call, passengers began to make idle chatter among themselves. The usual banal exercise to pass time. Airports are full of strangers either staring listlessly forward or engaging in talk therapy among themselves. Misery finds plenty of company during delayed departures. It is a sublime sort of meet and greet where you can hardly remember a person’s time within ten minutes of them telling it to you.

I was considering a conversation with the woman because I wondered if she played basketball professionally. My main interest was where she might have played college basketball in America. I grew up in the heart of college basketball in North Carolina’s Tobacco Road. Unfortunately, I did not speak up in time. A fellow passenger started talking with her first. Their conversation answered my question. When asked where she had been in Europe, the woman replied, “Satu Mare.” This elicited a predictable “Where’s that?” from her inquisitor.  It turned out that the women played professionally on a team in Satu Mare. I knew that basketball was popular in parts of Eastern Europe such as Lithuania and the Balkans but had no idea that women’s professional teams were in Romania. The woman was asked what she thought of Satu Mare. She replied that the city was nice and so were the people. She was heading back to America for a break. The same listlessness everyone waiting on the flight felt soon ended the conversation. 

Ernie Grunfeld – The shooting star of Satu Mare

Hoop Dreams – Starry Eyed Surprises
I did not envy the basketball player in her chosen profession. She had to travel far from home to earn a living. While the world of professional sports looks glamorous, the reality is very different for those who play professionally. Athletes spend an inordinate amount of time living out of suitcases and in strange places far from family and friends. The allure of travel wears off when you must do it for a living. Sport at its highest level takes such a high degree of dedication that professional athletes spend most of their time either practicing or resting. Her team, CSM Satu Mare, was just one more stop on that woman’s career ladder. She ended up being the first person I ever came across who had spent time in Satu Mare. I imagined it was not much of a basketball hub, but later research revealed an even deeper and more famous connection to the game.

Ernie Grunfeld, who starred at the University of Tennessee and played professionally for the New York Knicks, was born in Satu Mare to parents who survived the Holocaust. The family emigrated to the United States in 1964. Grunfeld’s basketball skills took him just as far. I can recall watching Grunfeld play during the 1980’s for the Knicks. He went on to have a long career as a professional basketball executive. I was astonished to discover he was from Satu Mare. A couple of basketball connections to the city were one of those improbable instances that feels like destiny. Strange things happen when you believe.

Click here for: Losing Proposition – A Sense of Dread In Satu Mare (The Lost Lands #10)

Standard Deviation – Demographic Discoveries In The Crisana (The Lost Lands #7)

I was never very good at math. I struggled with geometry, never made it past Algebra II, and recoiled at the thought of trigonometry. That is why I made sure my studies at university avoided any higher-level mathematics courses. Where I did excel was with statistics, but not the kind taught in school. I learned to love them at a very young age. One of my first memories as a child is learning to read by studying box scores in the sports section of newspapers.  This engendered a lifelong love of statistics. I find them very useful for making historical comparisons between peoples and countries, especially in Eastern Europe. Demographic statistics are a source of infinite fascination. One of the first things I did after beginning to travel in Eastern Europe was to study the demographics. Population numbers and the proportion of different ethnic groups can be extremely revealing. These numbers were one of the ways I first came to understand the Treaty of Trianon and its enduring legacy. 

Having it both ways – A sign at Satu Mare Railway Station (Credit: Waelsch)

Simple Minds – Following Along
I can think of very few things more exciting than trying to decide where to go next on a journey. Anticipation builds as I search for my next port of call. This act of travel can be summed up by that Dickensian title, “Great Expectations.” Answering the question, “Where to go next?” sends my imagination into overdrive. In such moments, anywhere seems possible. Nonetheless, choosing a place to go can be a daunting task. That is the case when it comes to visiting the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders. The size of the area lost by Hungary due to Trianon was considerable. It feels like traveling in another country. In this case, six countries (Austria, Croatia, Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, and Ukraine). Many of these countries are not contiguous, making the logistics of travel more difficult. This is why I am planning an itinerary with maximum flexibility built into it.

Itineraries tend to take the adventure out of travel. The standard ones list the places, dates, and times for visits. In essence, they are a stop-by-stop guide providing up to the hour information about where and when a visit will occur. I have always found these types of itineraries to be restrictive. They confine the traveler to a specific time and place. On the first day, I will be here. On the next day, I will be there. Itineraries are a simplistic, yet helpful way of organizing a trip. They are a case where the destination matters more than the journey. When the traveler is constrained by time an itinerary is the best practice. When the traveler has more time than plans, an itinerary can prove detrimental to serendipity and spontaneity. The two things that adventurous travelers crave.

When I travel in Eastern Europe, I only have a rough idea of where and when I want to visit a particular place. I will book accommodation at my first and second destinations. After that, the journey takes on a life of its own. My itinerary for the lost lands has also begun to take on a life of its own. My destination after the Letavertes-Sacueni border crossing is unique because it can be reached from the comfort of an armchair. This allows me to examine one of the Treaty of Trianon’s most important legacies with a few keystrokes.

Language lessons – Trilingual sign on the Directorate for Agriculture and Food Industry in Satu Mare (Credit: Waelsch)

Numbers Game – Demography Is Destiny
Locating where I am going to on a map is only the starting point. A signpost that then points me to my ultimate destination, cyberspace. The digital rather than physical world is my next port of call. I am adding a stop to my itinerary for data analysis. This will help me grasp the effects of Trianon on ethnic groups in the lost lands. The cumulative weight of history can be measured by the demographic changes that occurred after Trianon. These changes are usually expressed in a macro format. For instance, by looking at the proportion of ethnic Hungarians in Romania prior to Trianon and then in the decades after it took effect leading right up to the present. Raw numbers can be revealing. Demographic data is fundamentally different from the usual measuring sticks for Trianon. Those mostly focus on high level political maneuvering and lead to questions like, “Did the treaty inadvertently lead to World War II? The answers are difficult to enumerate. Voting patterns can help provide some answers, but political history habitually focuses on leaders rather than the masses who felt Trianon’s upheaval most acutely.

There are other ways to measure Trianon’s legacy using hard data. Some statistics are more revealing than others. One of the most cited statistics is the amount of territory lost/gained by Hungary and nations such as Romania. This is an important figure, but it does not tell us much about the millions of people affected by Trianon. A better system of measurement involves demographics. The question that comes to mind is how many Hungarians were left in Transylvania, southern Slovakia, Vojvodina, or the Burgenland post-Trianon. Decade by decade the numbers show a progression that speaks volumes. Demography is said to be destiny. There is no better example than the lost lands post-Trianon. 

Descending order – Population of Satu Mare by ethnic composition

Descending Order – The Trianon Effect
Satu Mare is one of the larger cities in the Crisana region. Located a short distance from the Hungarian border in northwestern Romania, it is a city I have yet to visit. I am adding it to my itinerary both digitally and physically. The digital component consists of demographic data that provides a snapshot of the population’s ethnic composition from 1880 to the present. Starting in 1910, a decade before Trianon. Hungarians dominated the city. Satu Mare was 91% Hungarian and 6% Romanian. The aftermath of World War I when the Romanian Army occupies Satu Mare prior to Trianon results in an uptick of the Romanian share of the population to 15% in 1920. That increases to 28% by 1930, while the Hungarian percentage drops to 57%. Then comes the onset of World War II as Hungary regains control of northern Transylvania and parts of Crisana. The city’s ethnic composition reverts to where it was in 1910. This is the high tide of ethnic Hungarians in Satu Mare.

Then comes the cataclysm of the lost war and communism. By 1970, Hungarians have become a minority for the first time. This coincides with the rule of Nicolae Ceausescu, and his regime’s policies that relocate Romanians to urban areas. By the end of Ceausescu’s reign Romanians are still in the majority. Even in the relatively prosperous period since then, the percentage of Hungarians has slowly decreased. They either left for Hungary after the border reopened or for better economic opportunities in other parts of Europe. The numbers do not lie. Trianon’s effect on ethnic Hungarians in Satu Mare has been substantial. The history of Hungarian and Romanians in the city can be followed from a single chart. Analyzing these numbers is more than an exercise in demography, it is a lesson in history.

Click here for: Breaking The Habit – A Satu Mare Story (The Lost Lands #8)  

Ghosts In The Room – Transylvania In Hungary (The Lost Lands #6)

My first confrontation with the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders concerned Transylvania. This confrontation did not take place high in the towering mountains, deep within dark forests, nor beside sparkling lakes. Instead, it occurred within the borders of Hungary. Any foreigner who spends more than a few weeks in Hungary will discover that Transylvania is all around them. A ghost that enters the room anytime there is a reference to Transylvania. The connections are unavoidable. The Treaty of Trianon could take Transylvania away from Hungary, but it could not take Transylvania out of Hungarians. I learned this from first-hand experience.

Mystical setting – King’s Pass in Transylvania

Deep Roots – Acts of Remembrance
One thing I have noticed while traveling in Hungary is the constant presence of Transylvania. Talk to a Hungarian about the Treaty of Trianon and Transylvania will be the first region in Historic Hungary mentioned, and likely the only one. This is just the beginning. In Debrecen’s train station as I perused the hardback picture books for sale, I noticed the photos were of cities, villages, castles, and historic sites in Transylvania. I would need an extra set of hands to count all the used bookstores in Budapest that feature the three volume Erdely Tortenete (History of Transylvania). Walking down the street, I notice a sticker affixed to a car with the outline of Historic Hungary. It makes apparent that the largest region lost due to Trianon was Transylvania. At the magnificent neo-Gothic Hungarian Parliament building, the Szekely flag flies beside the entrance. An intentional act of remembrance for the Hungarian speaking minority that still guards its autonomy in eastern Transylvania as fiercely as it guarded the Kingdom of Hungary’s borders beginning in the Middle Ages.

Walking through the bowels of Nyugati (Western) Station, I heard the Szekely anthem playing. Driving through the countryside of eastern Hungary I noticed numerous Trianon monuments, most of which mention Erdely (Transylvania). The obsession with Transylvania extends to literature and far beyond Hungary’s borders. While reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula, I learned that estate agent Jonathan Harker lands in a Budapest hospital after barely surviving the blood thirsty excesses of Count Dracula. Furthermore, the Count claims Szekely ancestry. During my first visit to Budapest in 2011, I noticed three thick volumes on the shelves of what would become my favorite bookstore in the world, Bestsellers. The books were the Transylvania Trilogy by Miklos Banffy, a Hungarian aristocrat who was heir to one of Transylvania’s most famous families. Banffy managed to outdo his ancestors in literary achievements. An incredible writer and storyteller, Banffy’s books have gained fame well beyond Hungary’s borders. They express the deep-rooted connections between Hungarians and Transylvania.

For the record – The three volume History of Transylvania

Paying Tribute – In The Grip of a Vision
In Kispest, one of Budapest’s downtrodden former industrial districts, I happened upon the Wekerle Estate, a Transylvanian inspired housing project. The estate was the work of architect Karoly Kos who was born in Timisoara (Temesvar) but spent much of his life in Transylvania. He brought the latter’s aesthetics with him to Kispest. The estate is prized property in an otherwise nondescript district. In Hungary, I have enjoyed meals of Koloszvari-layered sauerkraut, the name recalling Transylvania’s largest city. The dish originated in Oradea (Nagyvarad), rather than Koloszvar, but both cities were lost due to Trianon. Szekely inspired residents can be found both inside and outside the capital. A taste of Transylvania is never far away.

Even Romanians cannot escape from Transylvania in Hungary. For instance, Vlad Tepes (Vlad the Impaler) a name that lives in infamy to all but Romanians who view him as a national hero. While reading a biography of Tepes, I learned that his ferociousness did not intimidate Hungary’s most famous king Matthias Corvinus, who held Vlad under house arrest in Visegrad (along the Danube Bend north of Budapest) for a decade. Speaking of Corvinus, he was born in Koloszvar (Cluj). His exploits as King of Hungary from 1458 – 1490 gained him statues on both Castle Hill and Hero’s Square in Budapest. Corvinus is the most famous of a long list of Hungarian heroes who hailed from Transylvania. It is impossible to overstate the grip that Transylvania has on Hungary.

Some might call the Hungarian connection to Transylvania the product of historical roots, others a fetish, I would call it an obsession. One informed by passion, romanticism, sentimentalism, and depression. Hungary has a perpetual case of post-traumatic stress disorder arising from the Treaty of Trianon. Transylvania is one of the main causes, and certainly a consequence of that disorder. It is considered by far the greatest loss that Hungarians have suffered in modern history. Right up there with the Mongol Invasion (1241-1242) and the Battle of Mohacs (1526) as seminal national disasters. Unlike the older historical events, the loss of Transylvania is still playing out today. Anyone who has visited Transylvania knows why Hungarians feel its loss so acutely. Quite simply, there is no place like it in Europe. The landscape is stunning, and the history matches it. Much of that history involves Hungarians.

When the Ottoman Turks occupied Hungary for most of the 16^th and 17th centuries, and the Habsburgs imposed themselves on northern Hungary, Transylvania retained its autonomy. The principality paid an annual tribute to the Ottomans and was largely free to run its own affairs. This set off a Golden Age under the rule of Gabor Behlen, a renaissance in the land beyond the forest. For Hungarians, this preserved their essence at a time of great peril. In turn, this led to Hungarians viewing Transylvania as the purist part of their historic lands. An older book on Transylvania I have on my shelf sums this up in its title, “The Other Hungary.”

Flying high – Szekely flag at the Hungarian Parliament building in Budapest
(Credit: Derzsi Elekes Andor)

Misty Eyed – A Sentimental Journey
The deep sense of connection Hungarians have to Transylvania made its loss a national catastrophe. It was like losing a part of themselves. Discuss Transylvania with a Hungarian and their emotion is palpable. I recall one man who told me about his visit to a mountain top in Transylvania. As he contemplated the beauty before him and his Hungarian ethnicity, he became misty eyed. I found such sentimentality disconcerting. Transylvania is a life force in Hungary. No wonder the national psyche was traumatized by its loss.

Click here for: Standard Deviation – Demographic Discoveries In The Crisana (The Lost Lands #7)

Stepping Over The Line – Hungary-Romania Border (The Lost Lands #4)

A lightly trafficked road, farm fields interspersed with a few trees, a lone building set beside the road. This is the scene on an otherwise anonymous stretch of highway on the frontiers of eastern Hungary. The scenery gives no hint of what’s to come. Then the first signs appear for border control. Up ahead is a line all but invisible to the naked eye. That line has been the deciding and dividing geopolitical factor between Hungary and Romania for over a century. My anticipation rises as the car closes in on the border. The signs direct drivers to slow down and point to the proper lane. No border officer appears until the car comes to a halt. This is the experience that quickens my pulse more than any other while traveling. The expectation is that first there will be bureaucracy and then freedom. Everything depends upon a couple of officials I have never seen and will likely never see again. They are the gatekeepers to my future travels.

Remote control – Border crossing between Letavertes, Hungary and Sacueni, Romania

Initial Impressions – Locals, Lorries, & Limbo  
I love remote border crossings in Eastern Europe. They give me the sense that after wandering in a linguistic and cultural wilderness that I have finally arrived.  I define remote as any border crossing that is not along a major highway. Such border crossings are not hard to distinguish because they are in places few have ever heard of and fewer will ever go. They are mainly trafficked by locals and lorries. The highway will be two lanes until right before border control. This is the opposite of a heavily trafficked border crossing which has the look and feel of a travel plaza along a four-lane highway. There is a small army of serious looking border officers going about their business while masses of travelers wait in limbo. Delays can be lengthy and at busier times feel interminable. At remote border crossings officers take their work seriously, but they are less hurried in their processes and more relaxed.

Passing through the Hungary-Romania border always feels like an event to me. I get the sense that something important is about to happen. A remote border post causes my imagination to run wild. I would love to know how the officers feel about their jobs. What are their most dangerous and difficult duties? How are their interactions with locals from the opposite side of the border? In my more expansive moments, I can see myself working in solitude at such a post. Waiting for locals and wayward travelers to make the crossing. It is a thrill for me when the border officer comes out from a bland building. I try to put myself in their place. Meeting strangers who they only know by their documents and initial impressions. They are also standing on a historical fault line where the past is never far away. Their job is to make sure no one steps beyond the border line until they say so. 

On the line – Border crossing between Artand, Hungary and Bors, Romania

Going Remote – A Sense of Destiny
While working on my itinerary to visit the lost lands of Historic Hungary, it did not take me long to realize that Romania would be my number one destination. Transylvania loomed large in that decision, but in its shadow lies Crisana. A region that includes large parts of eastern Hungary and western Romania. The latter still has plenty of ethnic Hungarians, especially near the border. Crisana is where I will enter Romania. The question is exactly where to cross the border. The choice will be based upon prior experience and personal preference. One thing I loathe is navigating a major border crossing. The busiest crossing between Hungary and Romania is Artand-Bors. The city of Oradea (Nagyvarad) is only a 15-minute drive beyond the border. I have crossed by both bus and car here before. The crossing is heavily trafficked by automobiles and lorries on both sides. The hectic pace can make for an irritating experience. The frenzied activity at Artand-Bors is not how I want to start my journey to the lost lands. I would much rather find a quieter and more remote crossing.

The solitude of a lonely outpost appeals to me. That sent me searching for an obscure crossing. One where the border officers do their work in relative anonymity. Fortunately, I have prior experience with one of these crossings, Letavertes-Sacueni. It received my full attention as I considered whether to add the crossing to my itinerary. Letavertes and Sacueni are backwaters, out of the way places that do not lend themselves to tourism. The big advantage the towns have is their proximity to the Hungary-Romania border. That is why I am choosing this as my first crossing. Traffic is bound to be light, border control is efficient, and wait times minimal. One of the more interesting aspects of crossing the border here is that the towns which give the crossing its name play a minor role for the traveler. 

Running the border – A train and car on the Romanian side of the border in Sacueni
(Credit: Kabellerger)

A Fine Line – Setup For Failure
I visited neither Letavertes (population 6,795) nor Sacueni (population 10,720) when I crossed the Hungary-Romania border there five years ago. From an ethnic standpoint, there is not much that separates the towns. Both are overwhelmingly populated by Hungarians. That is not surprising for Letavertes which is in Hungary. It is for Sacueni, where three out of every four inhabitants are ethnic Hungarians. There are twice as many Roma in the town as there are Romanians. I do not recall much about either town. Both places happened to be in the way of history in 1920 when the Treaty of Trianon took effect.

One thing I do wonder is why the border was drawn through this area. I have read extensively about the politics surrounding Trianon, much less so about exactly where and why the frontiers were drawn in a specific area. I assume that the lines on maps were informed by the opinion of “experts” at the Paris Peace Conference. Their on-the-ground experience with specific places must have been lacking. It makes little sense to put areas dominated by ethnic Hungarians on the edge of western Romania when Hungary was just over the border. Such points of contention were a recipe for strife. Both Hungary and Romania were being setup for failure. In retrospect, conflict was inevitable. 

Click here for: All The Right Places – The Other Side of the Border In Crisana (The Lost Lands #5)

Retro Rail Ride – From Budapest to Eisenstadt & Bratislava (The Lost Cities #2)

The borders changed, the bureaucrats changed, the demographics changed, the economies changed, the politics changed, the names changed, the official languages changed, the centuries changed and still Budapest remains, as it did at the turn of the 20th century, the hub for anyone looking to reach the lost cities just beyond the borders of Hungary. In the last half of the 19^th century, Hungarian National Railway’s network of lines was developed with Budapest as the epicenter. That remains largely true today for the cities which were once part of the Kingdom of Hungary. The old cliché “the more things change, the more they stay the same” still applies in this case. Those traveling to the lost cities are likely to find themselves starting in Budapest. That is where my own journey to the lost cities now begins.

Ready to roll – Dawn at Budapest Nyugati (Western Railway Station)

Border Complications – National Insecurities
The shortest distance between two points is said to be a straight line. The shortest distance between the early 20^th century and the lost cities of Oradea (Nagyvarad), Timisoara (Temesvar), Subotica (Szabadka), Pozsony (Bratislava), Kosice (Kaschau), Eisenstadt (Kismarton), and Ungvar (Uzhhorod) is at the three railway stations (Nyugati – western/Keleti – eastern/Deli – southern) in Budapest. Many things have changed, and some stayed the same since the early 20^th century regarding the lost cities. Rail connections are one of them. While Budapest is still the best place to begin any journey to all seven lost cities, national borders cause complications. These are a legacy from the aftermath of World War I when border control inhibited pre-existing rail routes. It took 84 years, accession to the European Union and Schengen Zone for borderless travel between Hungary, Austria and Slovakia. This is also slated to happen with Romania when it becomes part of the Schengen Zone in 2024. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Serbia and Ukraine. Borders are always complicating factors, the ones between Hungary and its neighbors still act as irritants for the traveler. The situation has improved, but it is still an obstacle the traveler must have overcome.

The complications of borders were expected after the Treaty of Trianon went into effect on June 4, 1920. The nations which had gained the lost cities were suspicious of Hungary’s future intentions toward them. Even with large numbers of Hungarians migrating out of the lost cities and into the newly constituted Republic of Hungary, there were still large numbers of Hungarians that were the cause of consternation for Romania (formed in 1866), Yugoslavia (formed in 1918), and Czechoslovakia (formed in 1918), Austria was a different matter altogether, but it too eyed Hungary warily. Better to make travel between these nations and Hungary more difficult. Borders were a form of security. Judging by the coming of another world war, they were not a very good one.

Awaiting arrivals – Eisenstadt Railway Station

Living On The Edge – Burgenland & Bratislava
As any traveler does before setting out on a journey, I am searching for the best route between my destinations. It makes sense to start in Budapest since it was the transport hub for the Hungarian half (Transleithania) of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. From Budapest, the question is where to go first. That decision will go a long way in determining the route I will take to travel from one city to the next. I am not looking for the quickest route between the lost cities. I am searching for the one that will prove most intellectually satisfying. One of the most important elements of any journey is getting off to a good start. That might sound simplistic, but when it comes to travel my experience has been that the beginning of a journey van either set the traveler up for success or failure. With that in mind, I want to ease into this journey. Looking at the seven lost cities, Eisenstadt in Eastern Austria stands out as low hanging fruit ripe to be plucked with a leisurely rail ride.

Due to the starting and final destinations for this initial leg of the journey being in different countries, it will require multiple transfers and take almost four hours. I can think of worse things than riding the rails across western Hungary and then hopscotching between a couple of stations before arrival in the Austrian province of Burgenland. It only seems right that I should finish this first leg of the journey in what became a newly created ninth Austrian province in 1921. Along the way I will be passing through Sopron, known as the most loyal city in Hungary because it voted to stay part of the country during the messy aftermath of the post- World War I treaty making process.

Eisenstadt is a good first lost city to visit for logistical reasons. Of the seven lost cities, it is the furthest one to the west and in near proximity to Bratislava, which will be second on my itinerary.   Bratislava, known by Hungarians as Pozsony, has done better economically than any of the other lost cities. The reason can be summed up as location and size. Bratislava is just 30 kilometers from Vienna. It has become something of a bedroom community to the Austrian capital. Bratislava also became the capital of Slovakia in 1994. As the seat of government, the city had a self-reinforcing economy. Due to Slovakia’s lower taxes and cost of living (not the case anymore), businesses and people poured into the city. It was the largest city in the newly created country.  Bratislava continues its impressive growth today. The city’s Old Town is spectacular, and the surrounding area has much to recommend it.

Power & prosperity – Bratislava (Credit: Jorge Franganillo)

Lost & Found – The Eastern Frontier
From Bratislava I really have only one choice, head eastward. This is the direction that has captivated me ever since I first set foot in the region. As much as I love Budapest and Bratislava, nothing fires my imagination like heading ever deeper into Eastern Europe. This is the true heart of a region that has been greatly misunderstood by the western world. It is also a region that the Treaty of Trianon upended to a greater extent than anywhere else. The heartlands of historic Hungary can still be found in eastern Slovakia, sub-Carpathian Ukraine, and western Romania. These places are home to the lost cities that are the next stage in planning my itinerary.

Click here for: Eastern Questions – Plotting Paths To Kosice & Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #3)

A Near Death Experience – Veliki Brijuni: Khrushchev, Tito & The Hungarian Revolution

Croatia has 1,185 islands, islets, and reefs, but only one played host to a secretive and highly consequential meeting that was a world historical event in the autumn of 1956. On a blustery night while storms raged over the mountains of Yugoslavia, a Soviet made Ilyushin-14 was traveling from Sofia, Bulgaria to Pula. The twin propeller plane was slammed by turbulence as it travelled through the eye of a nasty thunderstorm. Aboard the plane was Nikita Khrushchev, who was on a mission to ensure that the Communist bloc nations, even a heretical one like Josip Broz Tito’s Yugoslavia would allow the Red Army to crush the Hungarian Revolution without interference. Khrushchev hoped to overcome the residual tension between the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia which had ebbed and flowed since Tito broke with Stalin in 1949. Khrushchev’s post-Stalin thaw had tempered relations. He now wanted to meet with Tito and ensure his support for a forthcoming offensive on Budapest.

The meeting place – Tito Villa on Veliki Brijuni

Khrushchev’s journey to get Tito’s consent was a striking example of the difference between his diplomatic style and that of his predecessor. Stalin only traveled abroad a handful of times during his time in power. He had a preternatural suspicion of foreigners, a trait that was reinforced when Tito pulled Yugoslavia out of the Soviet Union’s sphere of influence. Stalin would never have traveled to persuade Tito of a forthcoming military maneuver even when they were on good terms. Khrushchev was much less autocratic, a trait that would prove invaluable while managing this crisis. He needed all the friends he could get. The situation in Hungary was an existential threat to the Soviet Union and communism. The revolution had to be put down. If not, the Iron Curtain might completely collapse. If that meant Khrushchev had to do a bit of groveling before Tito, then so be it. Saving the Soviet empire was more important than saving face with the Yugoslav strongman.

To The Limit – Stretching The Nerves
Khrushchev would long remember the night of November 2nd. While meeting with Tito would be difficult, getting to his villa on Veliki Brijuni Island off the Istrian coast proved to be an even greater trial. With lightning flashes illuminating the plane’s interior, Khrushchev wondered if he would survive the flight. Later, he would recall the flight as much worse than the ones he had taken along the Eastern Front during World War II. Khrushchev was not faint of heart when it came to flying, but his plane’s journey to Pula stretched his nerves to the limit. Once the plane landed there was yet another trial to come. This one was by water. Khrushchev and Georgii Malenkov who was accompanying him were ushered into a motorboat. To get to Tito’s villa they would have to cross the Fazuna strait. On this night, the water was churned up by extremely windy conditions. Gales buffeted the small boat. The threat of capsizing was a clear and present danger. Malenkov was laid low by seasickness. Khrushchev was in better shape. He steadied himself despite the physical toil this nightmarish trip was taking on him.

Friends of convenience – Josip Tito & Nikita Khrushchev reviewing troops (Credit: Danilo Škofič)

They finally made it to Tito’s villa at 9:00 that evening. The meeting could not have gone better. Tito acceded to Khrushchev’s wishes. He knew that if the revolt successfully overthrew the communist system in Hungary that democracy would be on Yugoslavia’s doorstep. This could not be allowed. The only choice was to send in the Red Army. An overwhelming force would crush the revolution before it could consolidate gains. Tito did exert a great deal of influence over who the Soviets would install as the Hungarian leader after the revolution was put down. The Yugoslav’s convinced Khrushchev to support Janos Kadar as the choice to replace the soon to be deposed Imre Nagy. Kadar had the type of background that was amenable to both the Soviets and Hungarians. He had been imprisoned during the worst Stalinist excesses in Hungary. Nonetheless, he was a committed communist who was loyal to the Soviets. Hungarians could stomach Kadar as their leader because he had suffered under Stalinism just as many of them had. The only difference was that he remained a committed party man.

What Ifs – Eye of the Storm
The meeting between Khrushchev and Tito lasted eight hours. Before the sun rose that morning over the eastern Adriatic, the Soviet leader departed with the deal he had risked his life to secure. Dealing with Tito was easier than Khrushchev had expected. Just getting to Veliki Brijuni had been more than half the battle for him. The trial by lightning, turbulence and a tumultuous sea turned out to be the riskiest part of his journey. In the days that followed the meeting, the Hungarian Revolution was crushed by the Red Army. Hungary would stay communist for the next three decades. Those Hungarians who could, escaped westward. Others fled to Yugoslavia where they were treated with kid gloves by the Tito regime. Ironically, Tito led Yugoslavia was a stepping stone for many Hungarians who never went home and emigrated to the west. They spent time recuperating in Yugoslavia before heading abroad. Tito was a master at playing both sides of a situation. He would spend several decades leading what was known as the non-aligned movement. In essence, these were nations such as Yugoslavia that chose to remain neutral during the Cold War. They were beyond rather than above the fray. For Tito it was a move that aligned self-interest with sensibleness. Tito was a pragmatic leader. He knew when to give and when to take.

Island paradise – Veliki Brijuni part of the Brijuni Islands National Park

Khrushchev’s visit to Tito could have easily ended in disaster. One of the great what ifs in history concerns that November night. What if Khrushchev’s plane had crashed on the way to Pula? What if his motorboat journey across the Fazuni Strait had gone awry? A capsized watercraft in those stormy waters at night would have been an almost certain death sentence. If Khrushchev had died, what would have become of the Hungarian Revolution? Would a leaderless Soviet Union have crushed the Hungarians? It is impossible to say, but that does nothing to stop the speculation. The crushing of the Hungarian Revolution was a turning point for communist rule throughout Eastern Europe. Khrushchev would lead the Eastern Bloc through the stormy crisis. His trip to visit Tito was crucial to that effort, even if almost did not happen.