The Unavoidable War – Berehove’s Battle (The Lost Lands #17)

Berehove in the southwestern extremity of Ukraine is a long way from anywhere. The nearest major European city is Budapest. Too bad for Berehove that it is cut off from it by the Hungary-Ukraine border. Berehove is 800 kilometers from Kyiv, home of the Ukrainian government which is the ultimate authority over the town. Kyiv must seem impossibly distant to the ethnic Hungarian population in Berehove. While Hungarians have a long and illustrious history across many regions and cities in Eastern Europe, Kyiv does not happen to be one of them. 

These days ethnic Hungarians in Berehove and Transcarpathia find themselves in a strange geopolitical netherworld. Their main source of support comes from Budapest, but they share in the plight of everyone in Ukraine. Because Ukraine is now under attack, so is its ethnic Hungarian population. Some might say that they have divided loyalties, other less diplomatic types would call them a potential fifth column. This is because they are supported by a Hungarian government which maintains a friendly relationship with the Russian government, and which is on tense terms with the Ukrainian one. I would say that the ethnic Hungarians in Berehove are caught in a difficult situation. They should be used to that by now, as should so many other Hungarians that live in the lost lands beyond Hungary. 

Standing guard – World War II memorial in Berehove (Credit: Богдан Репетило)

Downward Trend – An Intractable Issue
Developing an itinerary to visit the lost lands can be depressing. No matter where I decide to go, I am confronted with a version of the same story. One that is sadder than it is uplifting. Ethnic Hungarians in these regions are a dwindling proportion of the population. They are holdouts against demographic and geopolitical tides that have been going against them for over a century. The Hungarian presence in the lost lands is fated to a slow decline that looks inevitable. There will be Hungarians in these areas for centuries to come, but their numbers will be fewer and fewer. The countries in which they hold citizenship are not overly concerned with their plight. They never have been. Bad blood between Hungarians and the ethnic groups they once ruled over still surfaces from time to time. The media makes a great deal of these occurrences, as do politicians looking to stir up nationalism. This is a distraction from an important story that fails to get reported. A story that is simple. That makes it no less shocking.

Hungarians and the dominant ethnic groups of the nations in which they live are all in demographic decline. Birth rates in Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, and Ukraine are abysmal. The young head abroad in search of economic opportunities. Villages which were once the lifeblood of the region have been hollowed out by decades of migration. All these factors are enough to send anyone to the bottle. Many take advantage of that option. Homemade palinka (plum brandy) has been known to help alleviate stress. The only problem is the user wakes up the next morning suffering from the same problem, plus they have a headache. Contemplating the demographic decline could give anyone a raging headache without help from a bottle. It is an intractable issue that has been unsolvable. By the 1990’s, birth rates in Eastern Europe were in decline. They have never stopped. 

Lest anyone forgets – Monument to the victims of World War II and communism in Berehove (Credit: ЯдвигаВереск4)

Circular History – Vicious Cycles
Ethnic Hungarians and all the other ethnic groups (dominant or non-dominant) in Eastern Europe are caught in a vicious cycle. That will be old news to them. Sometimes the entire history of Eastern Europe seems like one long vicious cycle. The elusive search for economic prosperity, ethnic friction, wars that lead to greater upheavals, endemic corruption, vast inequality, these are long standing problems. The cliché that those who do not learn from history end up repeating it, does not really apply here. Eastern Europeans have repeated history once again, but many of them voted with their feet. Heading for greater opportunities in the rest of Europe. This is the same thing they did in the late 19th and early 20^th century when they migrated by the millions to North America. Heading abroad acts as an escape hatch from troubles at home. This also starves the region of its best and brightest. For Hungarians in the lost lands, migration starves their communities of its most invaluable resource, ethnic kin. If all this was not enough, ethnic Hungarians in Ukraine have a war to worry about as well.

Ukraine has never been in the news as much as it has over the past 800 days. This is for all the wrong reasons. Russia’s unprovoked invasion has brought genocidal violence and horrific levels of suffering to much of the country. Every city, town, and village in Ukraine has been affected in some manner. This demonstrated how expansive and unyielding the war has been. Ukraine is the largest country entirely inside of Europe, a nation larger than France. And yet there is not a single place in Ukraine that has managed to escape the war. No matter how far from the front lines, the war’s effect can be felt. There is nowhere in Ukraine more remote from the front lines and far-flung aerial bombardments than Zakarpattia Oblast, a forgotten corner of the country that shelters in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains. If Zakarpattia is forgotten, then Berehove is downright obscure.

Witness to history – Elderly Woman in Berehove (Credit: Adam Jones)

Under Fire – War Changes Everything
The inhabitants of Berehove, the largest majority Hungarian town in Ukraine, have reason to fear war as much as anyone. War has been unkind to ethnic Hungarians in Transcarpathia. World War I resulted in the region being taken from Hungary and becoming part of Czechoslovakia. In the leadup to the Second World War, Hungary regained control of Transcarpathia. This was a twofold disaster for those who identified as Hungarians in Berehove. First, the Hungarian speaking Jewish population were departed to death camps after the German Army occupied Hungary in the spring of 1944. An entire culture and thousands along with it were destroyed in a matter of months. Then the Soviet Red Army roared into the area later that same year. They raped, murdered, or deported for slave labor thousands of ethnic Hungarians. This history left permanent scars on the population. Now another large war consumes Ukraine and is making its presence felt in Transcarpathia.

Coming soon: A Dangerous Game – Berehove, Transcarpathia & Russia’s War In Ukraine (The Lost Lands #18)

On The Outside Looking In – Hungarians in Berehove (The Lost Lands #16)

You know your life is beyond bizarre when you are up at two a.m. studying articles from the Treaty of St. Germain-en-Laye. This lapse into madness has been a long time coming. It all started thirty years ago in my high school library when I pulled the first volume of the Marshall Cavendish Encyclopedia of World War I. Since then, I have been on a journey to the remotest reaches of the war to end all wars. The war has never ended for me. There are so many fascinating aspects to it, that I find myself coming back for more. Studying the lesser-known aspects of the war has helped in the development of my travel itinerary for the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders. There would be no lost lands to discover without the war and its chaotic aftermath.

The war was cause and consequence of the treaty making process which led to conflicts and controversies that continue up through the present. The war’s scale and profound influence on the future of Europe was so vast that even a work as thorough as the Marshall Cavendish Encyclopedia (12 volumes/3,628 pages) cannot cover it all. Plenty of important stories get left out. One of these is the destiny of Berehove’s ethnic Hungarian community. Its fate was decided in September 1919, nine months before the Treaty of Trianon was signed.

Facing the past – Lajos Kossuth bust in Berehove (Credit: ЯдвигаВереск)

The Wrong Side – Switched At Birth
My travels in the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders center around the Treaty of Trianon which resulted in Hungary losing two-thirds of its land and sixty percent of the pre-World War I population. Trianon has been a rallying cry for disaffected Hungarians ever since the treaty was signed on June 4, 1920. I have heard so much about Trianon, that I identify all lands populated by ethnic Hungarians outside the borders of present-day Hungary with the treaty. To my surprise, Berehove, the largest town in Ukraine with an ethnic Hungarian majority and the surrounding region of Transcarpathia, were lost through another treaty. The negotiators were determined to dismember the lands that historically had been part of Hungary, even when it came through a different treaty than Trianon. Transcarpathia was given to the newly formed state of Czechoslovakia through the Treaty of Saint-Germain-en-Laye despite the region have very few Czechs and a minority of Slovaks.

Ethnic Hungarians, such as the ones in Berehove, found themselves outside the borders of Hungary. In Berehove’s case, the Hungarian border could be reached by train in a matter of minutes and on foot in less than an hour. This did not matter because those who lived in the town were now part of Czechoslovakia. Berehove’s large Hungarian speaking Jewish population found themselves in the same position. Proximity to the Hungarian border did not matter. Berehove was 850 kilometers from Prague, the capital of Czechoslovakia. The town was only 330 kilometers from Budapest. The lines drawn at the Paris Peace Conference did not make such distinctions. Transcarpathia is now part of Ukraine, but the connection between Berehove and Hungary continues today. Being on the wrong side of the border has served to reinforce this connection.

Dueling identities – Bilingual signage in Berehove (Credit: Mitte27)

Afterthought – A Forgotten Tragedy
Today, the Treaty of Saint-Germain-en-Laye is an afterthought. Its importance gets lost in the long shadow of the Treaty of Versailles. The most important aspects of the treaty included the dissolution of Austria-Hungary, Austria losing 60% percent of its prewar territory, and the creation of Czechoslovakia. Plenty of people are familiar with Czechoslovakia as a unifying force for Czechs and Slovaks. Often forgotten is its easternmost region, which it held from 1919 to 1938. Article 53 of the treaty granted the Carpathian Ruthenians autonomous status. Placing the land in which they resided under Czechoslovakia kept it away from Hungary. This marginalized the ethnic Hungarian population in the region. This did not sit well with them.  The Hungarians of Transcarpathia were fortunate in at least one respect. The region would be governed by the most organized of the nations created in the aftermath of World War I. Czechoslovakia was a well-run democracy. That ended up not mattering with the rise of Nazism in Germany. Hungary would get the territory back in 1938 and then lose it again in 1944. These geopolitical machinations came at the expense of the region’s inhabitants. Berehove could not escape from a tragic fate.

Berehove is the proverbial small fish in a big sea.  It is a mid-sized town that represents the ethnic Hungarian population in Ukraine. Berehove is a tenuous foothold that continues to slowly slip away as the population dwindles. For ethnic Hungarians, the demographics are dire in Transcarpathia. The last census in Ukraine took place in 2001. At that time, there were 150,000 Hungarians. The number is estimated to be just half that in 2024. There are several reasons for this. The Hungarian government began issuing passports to their ethnic kin in the region. These are an economic lifeline for those looking to earn a better living. Leaving the region for economic opportunity has become a rite of passage. The Ukraine-Russia war has only served to reinforce this trend. The population decline has occurred despite the Hungarian government providing 115 million euros ($125 million) in funding for education and cultural preservation in the region. Berehove has been the epicenter of those efforts. The financial support is being done to keep the Hungarian presence alive in Transcarpathia, a region where they have been for 1,100 years.

Monumental memory – Hungarian hero Ferenc Rakoczi II on horseback in Berehove
(Credit: Mitte27)

Taking Leave – Money Matters
Berehove’s ethnic Hungarian community is no stranger to tough times. That has been the case since 1919. The town’s ethnic Hungarians faced much worse in the past and managed to survive. The problem now is that there is very little growth potential for the population. The current Hungarian government’s policy is contradictory. They issue passports which act as an inducement for ethnic Hungarians to work abroad. At the same time, their spending is supposed to boost the Hungarian presence in the region. The government is not going to change its policies and those leaving are not likely to come back except for a visit. This further hollows out the population. Supporting Berehove is a worthy pursuit, but many ethnic Hungarians will not be around to enjoy it.  

Click here for: The Unavoidable War – Berehove’s Battle (The Lost Lands #17)

It’s Never Easy – Railroads & Backroads to Berehove (The Lost Lands #15)

Berehove is on very few radars. Neither is the southwestern extremity of Ukraine. In a country fighting the largest war in Europe since 1945, Berehove and the surrounding region barely warrants a mention. Prior to the war, those traveling through the area were likely to bypass Berehove on their way to Uzhhorod (Ungvar) or Mukachevo (Munkacs). The former attracted visitors with its architecture and atmosphere reminiscent of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The latter with its famous hilltop castle looming above the town. Some of the visitors included Hungarians in pursuit of their past. Berehove might not measure up to the standards of mainstream tourism, but the Hungarian government has had Berehove on its mind since coming to power in 2010. The idea of Greater Hungary is one of its motivating forces. That idea neither started with them, nor is that where it will end. It has been over a hundred years in the making.

The lands beyond Hungary’s borders lost due to the Treaty of Trianon have a magnetic attraction for Hungarians. This is just as true with obscure provincial areas as it is with more famous ones such as Transylvania. While these places are part of what is known as Historic Hungary, that history is about both the past and present. Keeping marginal Hungarian communities beyond the border alive has been a keystone of Hungarian government policy. Berehove has been one of the main beneficiaries of this effort. I put Berehove on my itinerary for the lost lands to understand what has been done.

Port of entry – Berehove city limit sign (Credit: Rovas Alapitvany)

Constricted Flow – Erring on the Side of Corruption
I thought Satu Mare, the first stop on my itinerary was off the beaten path, then I began to map a journey to Berehove. This took obscurity to a whole new level. Getting there is not an easy task, no matter from which direction you come. This is often the case in the lost lands of Historic Hungary where transport connections were severed after World War I. Border control crimped the flow of people and commerce. This situation was exacerbated by another adjustment in the borders following World War II, Berehove became part of the Soviet Union as the region was assimilated into that sprawling empire. Transcarpathia had been a backwater whether it was part of Austria-Hungary, Czechoslovakia, or Hungary. Becoming part of the Soviet Union left Berehove on its remotest frontier yet. The town was the same distance from Amsterdam as it was to Moscow. The Cold war and mutual suspicion from Eastern Bloc allies meant that Berehove was off limits to neighboring countries. Crossing borders was an arduous process.

The Soviet Union sometimes trusted allies less than they did western countries. Traveling back and forth to visit ethnic brethren was unheard of. Communists were always on the lookout for ethnic unrest and fifth columns. The two were viewed as synonymous.  After the collapse of communism, borders reopened, but infrastructure improvements were slow in coming or nonexistent. Restrictions on travel vanished, but getting from one place to the next was an adventure. It still is. Romania made more strides than Ukraine. Joining the European Union unlocked funding to improve infrastructure. Unfortunately, it did not stop the rot of corruption. The same was true in Ukraine. If anything, corruption was worse and funding for infrastructure commonly was stolen, wasted, or given as kickbacks. The upshot was that places like Berehove are left stranded. Its place in Europe might best be described as neither here nor there. 

Life on the edge – Countryside near Berehove (Credit: Adam Jones)

Roundabouts – Logistical Concerns
The shortest way between two points is a straight line. Borders are never straight in Eastern Europe. Whether they are natural or manmade does not matter, anytime a border is involved for travel the situation gets convoluted. When it comes to borders in the lost lands, there is no easy way in, nor is there an easy way out. I learned this while planning my initial itinerary for the lost cities. The logistics to get from Uzhhorod, Ukraine to Oradea, Romania were positively byzantine. The Ukraine – Romania border, past and present, did not help matters. I was reminded that the two countries had not so long ago been the Soviet Union and Ceausescu era Romania. There had been no love lost between the two back then. Facilitating cross-border connection was nearly impossible for decades. Progress has been made since then, but the border is still not easy to cross. Other issues include the non-European Union status of Ukraine, and existing transport networks. A direct route does not exist. In sum, there was no easy way of traveling between the two cities. I opted to slip into eastern Hungary and make my way to Oradea from there. That was the first time I opted for a third country as the go between.

For my trip to Berehove, the question is how to do this in the most efficient manner possible, Efficiency is not something either Romania or Ukraine is known for. That is especially true when it comes to transport infrastructure. I am pleasantly surprised to find that the journey can be done in two and a half hours. Of course, nothing is ever as easy as it seems when it comes to travel in this region. That old cliché that “if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is” describes the best travel option. The journey will require taking two trains with a car ride sandwiched between them. The rail journeys are rather easy, at least on paper. Romania’s railways have never been known for their timeliness. The car ride presents the most potential difficulties. It entails crossing the border. I might as well go ahead and budget in at least an extra hour for this trip.

Getting there – Horse drawn wagon cart in Berehove (Credit: Adam Jones)

Slow Ride – A Relaxed Pace
I must admit the logistics of this journey seem much easier than I expected. That is due to the relative proximity of Satu Mare and Berehove. The main problem is obvious. Each place being on a different side of the border will result in delays. That could turn out to be a blessing in disguise. As it will prepare me for Berehove, a provincial town that offers a more relaxed way of life. There will still be tension in Berehove. There has been ever since another post-World War I treaty was signed. Surprisingly, it was not the Treaty of Trianon. 

Click here for: On The Outside Looking In – Hungarians in Berehove (The Lost Lands #16)

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

The phrase “war and peace” is synonymous with Leo Tolstoy’s novel of the same name. How could it not be? Much of the novel centers around Napoleon’s invasion of Russia. I have tried to read the book in its entirety and never made it very far. I am one of many who have been defeated by the book’s breadth and depth. Perhaps it is time for another reading of war and peace, but this one need not be fictionalized. Instead, the war and peace I am thinking of is non-fictional in nature. The setting is the Transcarpathian region of Ukraine.

The time frame is expansive, stretching from the early 20^th century through the present. It involves a Hungarian community that goes from being at the pinnacle of the region’s power structure to an oppressed minority facing potential extinction. Oppression has ebbed over the past thirty years, but the threat of extinction still looms. The situation for Hungarians in Ukraine can best be understood in the town of Berehove (Beregszaz). Half the town’s population (24,000) consists of ethnic Hungarians. Their story – past and present – is dramatic, depressing, and strangely inspiring. It shows just how strong the survival instinct is for a marginalized community in a marginal area.

Waiting game – Berehove’s Railway Station (Credit: Mitte27)

Turning Away – Their Backs To The Mountains
I just might be the only person in the world who longs to travel from Satu Mare in Romania to Berehove in Ukraine. I am turning away from the obvious for the next stop on my itinerary for the lost lands beyond the borders of Hungary. The title for one of the best histories covering Transcarpathia, Paul Robert Magocsi’s “With Their Back to the Mountains” could be the theme for this journey. Ukrainians see the region as a land beyond the Carpathians (Transcarpathia), while Hungarians see it as at the foot of the mountains (Subcarpathia). Either way, it is on the fringes of historic Hungarian lands and present-day Ukraine. Opposites have attracted here. Zakarpattia Oblast, the county in which Berehove is located, happens to be one of the poorest in Ukraine. What it lacks in monetary wealth, Zakarpattia makes up for with natural beauty, rolling hills, clear streams, and mountainous landscapes. The natural landscape is like something out of a dream. The human one had nightmares.

The region is a fascinating throwback to a Europe that has almost totally vanished. It is a crossroads for Ukrainians, Hungarians, Rusyns, Romanians, and Slovakia. This is the kind of ethnic and cultural complexity that was once a hallmark of Eastern and Central Europe before two World Wars, genocide, and ethnic cleansing, altered the course of human diversity. Many others have either been forced or voluntarily fled from Zakarpattia. Running for their lives or the promise of prosperity further to the west. My plan is to head in the opposite direction. Moving towards the darkness and running from the light. The idea of traveling from Satu Mare to Berehove fills me with excitement. I am quite certain that a trip between a mid-size provincial city on the northwestern edge of Romania to an oversized town on the southwestern fringe of Ukraine is no one else’s idea of fun. Perhaps that is why it appeals to me.

The golden age – Early 20th century postcard of Berehove (Beregszdsz)

The Contrarian – Going Against The Rules
Being a contrarian has its pleasures. Berehove knows this all too well.  It does not follow the rules that govern present day Eastern Europe or Ukraine. The town is only five kilometers away from the European Union, but it seems much further. The Ukraine-Russia War has affected the town, just not in the way most would imagine. Air raid sirens blare much less frequently than they do in other parts of Ukraine. Berehove has never come close to being struck by a Russian aerial attack. It has never even been targeted. As a matter of fact, only one missile has fallen in Zakarpattia Oblast since the war began over 800 days ago. Transcarpthia goes against the prevailing trends. Considering its recent past, the region deserves a break. And yet it could not escape the vicissitudes of history. In this region, the past has been unkind. History is a great teacher, but in Transcarpathia it killed innumerable students.

Both Satu Mare and Berehove were in the line of fire throughout the 20^th century. They experienced some of the worst excesses of the World Wars. Suffering many of those excesses were ethnic Hungarians. They went from being the oppressor to the oppressed and back again on two separate occasions. Civilians were less safe than soldiers. Rape, pillage, deportation, and death were common, Those Hungarians who still live in Satu Mare and Berehove either have direct experience from that time or are the ancestors of those who did. Their survival and staying power are an incredible accomplishment considering what they suffered. Miracles do happen. They can be found walking up and down the streets in Berehove speaking Hungarian. Survival is the way to defeat death and destroyers of the world. But just because they survived, does not mean they did not suffer the unspeakable. Others were not so lucky. Prior to the Holocaust, Berehove was home to 8,000 Jews. Only four returned from the death camps. Their vibrant culture vanished along with them.

On the move – Street scene in Berehove (Credit: Adam Jones)

Crossroads– Headed In Both Directions
Now that the whirlwind of 20^th century history has passed, everyone in the region should be able to breathe a sigh of relief. That’s the case in Satu Mare, but not in Berehove. Hungarians in Ukraine have a tenuous foothold. With one eye they look towards the Hungarian border, a mere five kilometers from their doorsteps. With the other eye, they look warily to Ukraine which they have been part of since 1991. These ethnic Hungarians are torn between two countries. One that provides passports and offers an opportunity to work in the European Union. Another that is involved in the worst European war since 1945.

The Hungarians in Berehove and the rest of Transcarpathia know from experience how war threatens them. World War II had catastrophic consequences for the community. The Ukraine-Russia War could lead in that same direction. Their future in the area is murky, but it has been that way for over a century. Despite all the changes in Berehove since the turn of the 20^th century, one thing remains the same. The Hungarian community is still holding on against the odds. How much longer is an open question. By going there, I hope to find some of the answers.

Click here for: It’s Never Easy – Railroads & Backroads to Berehove (The Lost Lands #15)

Obstacle Course – Navigating Trianon (The Lost Cities #13)

The Treaty of Trianon brought about as many problems as it tried to solve. It was a consequence of the First World War and helped lead to the second one. Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Yugoslavia all gained territory at Hungary’s expense. This led to resentments and recriminations, some of which have survived for over a century and still rise to the surface today. Thankfully, membership in the European Union for all the successor states, except for Serbia, has guaranteed minority rights and led to peaceful resolution of disputes. There is also the factor of time. Trianon is now over a hundred years old. While time does not heal all wounds, it tends to soften them.

By the standards of the troubles that Trianon spawned, the ones it caused me while I developed my itinerary for the lost cities beyond the borders of Hungary was relatively minor. Despite my irritation, the exercise offered a lesson on how the legacy of Trianon continues to manifest itself in the present. The treaty created the obstacle course of borders that are still logistically difficult to navigate. That is nothing compared to the border problems that ensued after Trianon went into effect. Having crossed all the borders at one time or another in my travels, I still cannot help but wonder why peoples and nations that have so much in common insist on making it hard on one another. Of course, that is easy for me to say since I do not have the historical or personal experience of the inhabitants.

Set in stone – Border marker between Hungary and Romania (Credit: Kelenbp)

Historical irony – Hungary For Hungarians
Like all treaties, Trianon had good and bad sides to it. How one feels about it depends on which side they are one. Hungarians detest it. Romanians, Slovaks, and to a lesser extent Serbs view it as historical justice. Oddly enough, Hungarians did benefit from it in one respect they tend to overlook. What was left of Hungary became much more ethnically Hungarian. The aftermath of World War II made that even more so when Hungary expelled its ethnic German community. In the Hungarian administered half of the Austro-Hungarian Empire the only way Hungarians could make up half the population was by counting the Jewish inhabitants as Hungarians. With World War II wiping out Hungary’s Germans and Jews, the country became overwhelmingly Hungarian. This consequential legacy was unintended and can be traced directly back to Trianon. It has proven to be long-lasting.

Hungary was always going to be first and foremost for Hungarians. Trianon made it even more so. This was a case of “be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.” Hungarians got a homogenous state. The drawback was it happened to be much smaller than what they would have ever imagined. No Erdely (Transylvania), no Felvidek (Upper Hungary, i.e. Slovakia), no Ujvidek (Vojvodina/northern Serbia). Hungary without minorities (other than Roma) is an historical irony. Trianon was the start of a homogenization process that lasted another twenty-five years in Hungary. This is an uncomfortable and irrefutable truth. And like all historical truths, it is not black or white, it is grey. No one in Hungary will ever be celebrating Trianon. How could they? But an acknowledgement that the treaty inadvertently led Hungary to become a more cohesive state would go some way in mitigating the resentments that do not benefit anyone, most of all Hungarians. 

Come together – Romania Border Monument at the tripoint with Hungary and Ukraine (Credit: Barry 432)

Direct Descendants – Controlling The Border
The borders created by Trianon are both an inhibiting factor and opportunity for me. They make travel more time-consuming and at times, outright intimidating. Who among us wants to stare into the placid eyes of a border officer that is as close to a direct descendant of Trianon as I will ever find. Without the treaty, they would not be standing their nation’s ground. They are the ultimate arbiters of who can or cannot pass. It is that simple and incredibly complex. Where else can I visit seven cities in six countries that all have a historical link to the same neighboring country? Cities that are at most an hour away from the border by car. Near and yet so far away.

The most unnatural of borders have stood the test of time and the tempest of war. While the changes that buffeted Eastern Europe since World War One have been mind boggling, Trianon’s detested and contested borders have remained largely the same. The Second World War could only alter the new status quo for a handful of years. The borders have been permanent since then. Hungarians like to lament that they are the only country that borders itself. That depends upon one’s perspective, and their perspective is understandably Magyar centric. My perspective is that of the tourist spying an unprecedented opportunity to step between past and present. I can think of no better place to understand the First World War’s enduring legacy than crossing the borders imposed by Trianon and discovering the lost cities that lie beyond them.

Past & present – Along the Hungary-Serbia border (Credit: Andrea Schmidt)

On The Same Side – Unbreakable Connections
The idea of the lost cities is fascinating for an outsider, maddening to a Hungarian, and off putting to their current inhabitants. The consternation caused by Trianon still exists today. The shooting and shouting may have ended, but rest assured there are millions still coming to terms with the treaty’s ramifications. The ancestors of those who left the lost cities and the current inhabitants whose ancestors came to inhabit them will be forever connected by an historical event that had nothing to do with them and still has everything to do with them.

It is much easier for me as an outsider to set aside the consternation that comes with the treaty. Oddly, I have a reason to be grateful for Trianon. Without it, there would be no lost cities for me to visit or an itinerary to develop. That may sound selfish, but that makes it no less true. Trianon was the cause and consequence for planning such a trip. It connects all the lost cities together. For all their differences of language, economies and culture, the lost cities are forever bound together by a shared fate. There is no way they can escape this history. Eventually it comes for everyone on either side of the border. 

Click here for: Chaotic Conclusions – The Right Side of the Border in Historic Hungary (The Lost Cities #14a)

The Long Haul – An Exhausting Journey To Oradea (The Lost Cities #6)

If you ever want to amuse yourself with a slightly sadistic activity, I highly recommend the travel journey planning website Rome2Rio. Type in your points of departure and arrival, then wait for a couple of seconds as the website works its magic. The site will give you train, bus, and car options to any destination they desire. These can be a source of fascination, especially when transfers are involved. Any search between two places that cannot be reached with a non-stop service will result in numerous options, some of which are scarcely viable unless you are willing to endure extreme fatigue.

I found one particularly exhausting option while searching for the most efficient way to travel between Uzhhorod and Oradea for my Lost Cities beyond the Hungarian border itinerary. There is no non-stop train service between the two cities. The fun really began as I looked through the options that were offered. One that got my attention was “Train via Biharkeresztes” because it offered the shortest travel time. I did not have the slightest idea of where Biharkeresztes was located other than in Hungary. Clicking on the option revealed a nightmarish itinerary that made me want to book my tickets just to see if I was up to the challenge. 

On-time arrival – Train from Puspokladany arriving in Oradea (Credit: Boldizsar Sipos)

Beyond Midnight – Ready For Departure
My fascination with a potential journey via Biharkeresztes began when Rome2Rio showed that it would take eight hours. I sighed. While I expected a lengthy travel time due to the lack of a direct connection between Uzhhorod and Oradea, seeing an eight-hour journey listed as the first option, made me realize the difficulty of getting between the two cities in a timely manner. There was no getting around the fact that this leg of my itinerary would take most of a day. Little did I know that the time given did not include transfers and waiting at stations. When I investigated the option further, I saw that the entire trip would take 14 hours and 14 minutes. I was astonished to learn that the details revealed the trip would be even tougher than the amount of time it took. I would spend two-fifths of the time waiting in stations, part of it in the dead of night at a station in the Hungarian town of Puspokladany.

Public transport stations late at night and in the earliest hours of the morning are something I generally avoid while traveling in Eastern Europe. For that matter, I try to avoid them anywhere I travel in western Europe or America. A railway or bus station around midnight or thereafter is an invitation for trouble. While I have never noticed any violent criminal element in the evening at stations I have frequented in Eastern Europe, the possibility is always there. After the sun goes down, there is usually a noticeable increase of seedy characters that look ready to commit petty theft at stations. In my opinion, they are more of a danger to someone’s belongings than they are to passengers, but why tempt fate unless it is absolutely necessary. My late-night experiences at stations are limited so I am no authority on the matter. The most memorable of these turned out to be completely benign.

Awaiting arrivals – Puspokladany Train Station (Credit: Tony Fekete)

Nocturnal Travel – A Marathon Journey
I arrived not long before midnight on my first visit to Lviv in western Ukraine. I went into the main hall expecting it to be deserted. Instead, I found a large crowd awaiting arrivals or departures. The worst thing I encountered on that occasion were the taxi drivers. In Eastern Europe, it does not matter if it is morning, noon, or midnight, the taxi drivers are always prepared to fleece foreigners. They haunt arrival areas in railway and bus stations waiting to confront bleary eyed travelers. In Lviv, the taxi drivers were no real danger to anything other than my wallet. Despite coming through this experience unscathed, I am still reluctant to take my chances by hanging around in a public transport station late at night. Nonetheless, this is sometimes unavoidable. For example, the journey from Uzhhorod to Oradea.

If I was to take the timeliest train option that Rome2Rio provided me, I would find myself waiting in a railway station late at night. The marathon journey begins at Uzhhorod in the late afternoon. That time of departure is never a good sign if you are traveling across three countries with three different languages while navigating two border crossings. This would surely be enough to induce plenty of stress. That might help me stay awake during what would be a long day’s journey deep into the night. One positive would be gaining an hour after crossing into a different time zone from Ukraine to Hungary. One negative would be losing that same hour after crossing from Hungary into Romania. Traveling is never easy in the remoter reaches of Eastern Europe. The toughest part comes when making a transfer at Puspokladany in eastern Hungary. The problem is that the train arrives there at 8:33 p.m. followed by a four and a half hour wait. I have made transfers at Puspokladany before. The station is in excellent condition and safe. Still, spending a considerable amount of time there long into the night is less than ideal.

Somewhere down the line – Beside the platform at Puspokladany (Credit: Tony Fekete)

On-Time Arrival – Before The Break of Dawn
The train from Puspokladany to Oradea does not leave until 1:01 a.m. This is a sleeper train traveling between Budapest and Brasov. I would be at risk of falling asleep on this train. There are worse things in travel than missing a long-awaited stop and waking up in Transylvania. One of them happens to be trying to stay awake all the way to Oradea where the train arrives at 4:17 a.m. That just might be late enough that all the miscreants and ne’er do wells have either passed out, stolen their quota of cigarettes, or gone to bed. I would be left searching for a bed of my own while wandering the streets of Oradea a couple of hours before dawn. Is there anything worse than those final hours of the early morning before dawn? I am not sure, but I intend to find out. This might not sound like fun, but it is an adventure.  

Click here for: Whisper To A Scream – The Door In Nagyvarad (The Lost Cities #7)

Time Management – A Race Against The Clock To Oradea (The Lost Cities #5)

There are the trips not taken, the routes not followed, and the timetables that cannot be worked out. I rarely write about my stillborn sojourns. It is painful to recall aborted plans that started with hope and ended in hopelessness. These chances not taken can be summed up as an inversion of the famous Sinatra lyric from My Way, “Regrets, I’ve had a few…too few to mention” into “Regrets, I’ve had many, too many to mention.” My way ended up being the wrong way.

What worries me the most about my itinerary for the lost cities beyond the borders of Hungary is that it will never come to fruition. That is why I have tried to trick myself into believing the itinerary is for armchair travel only. Nevertheless, my underlying and unspoken aspiration is to make this dream become reality. The reason it might not is a matter of time. As I plan this potential journey, I am becoming acutely aware just how much time plays a part in the choices I make while traveling in Eastern Europe.

Managing time – Oradea City Hall Tower

Road Weary – Crossing The Upper Tisza
There is Eastern Europe, and then there is far Eastern Europe. I define the latter as places in the region that are remote from the popular tourist routes. The westernmost stretch of the Ukraine-Romania border is one of them. I consider this to be the wildest of the wild east.  This is not just because of both countries’ association with some of the most volatile European history since the beginning of the 20^th century, it is also because a stretch of the border is naturally demarcated by the Upper Tisza River. When I learned this a decade ago, it astonished me. My image of the Tisza had been informed by numerous crossings of the river on the Great Hungarian Plain. I had always thought of the Tisza as a broad, languid river flowing through flat land as it heads south to feed the Danube. That was until I saw photos of the Upper Tisza along the Ukraine-Romania border that showed a narrower, faster flowing river. The photos led me to daydream about one day crossing this natural border.

While developing my Lost Cities itinerary, I thought that there might be an opportunity to cross the Upper Tisza when I traveled from Uzhhorod to Oradea. That was until I looked closely at a map and noticed that the Ukraine-Romania border was to the southeast of Uzhhorod, whereas Oradea was directly to the south. Trying to find a way to cross the Upper Tisza between Oradea and Uzhhorod would require a detour. On the map, this detour did not look that difficult, but railways in the area are few. Roads are often the only option. I have been on enough to-lane highways in Ukraine and Romania to know that traveling on them is time consuming due to their narrowness and condition. Despite these drawbacks, I researched a potential trip routed through the small city of Satu Mare in northwestern Romania.

The place to be – Satu Mare Railway Station in 1911
(Credit: Brück & Sohn Kunstverlag Meißen)

Clock Watching – Taking My Time
Bus travel in the remoter reaches of Eastern Europe is often the only means of transport. That is the case for anyone looking to get from Uzhhorod to Satu Mare. It requires two potentially exhausting bus rides. That is followed by a three-hour train journey between Satu Mare and Oradea. All this adds up to at least a twelve-hour journey. Timeliness is not the strong suit of public transport in Romania. Neither is a border crossing from a country at war, to one that is a member of the European Union. Specific travel times are rendered meaningless. The best that can be hoped for are rough estimates of arrival times. In this context, a couple of hours can easily double. For this potential journey, time was working against me.

Sitting in an armchair months or years away from an actual trip between Uzhhorod and Oradea, it is easy for me to delude myself into believing anything might be possible. Pushing the boundaries of endurance is appealing from a distance. I know from experience just how different reality can be, especially when bus travel is involved. I love riding on trains because I find even the worst ones to be more comfortable and relaxing than traveling on a bus. The trains I have been on in Ukraine and Romania are slower than buses, but they have everything else to recommend them. For instance, on a train I can stretch my legs while not worrying about the numerous near misses that occur on bad roads with drivers who love to risk everyone’s life. Furthermore, I do not have to sit in cramped quarters among fellow passengers whose clothes are permeated with the smell of cigarette smoke. Avoiding these annoyances makes the slower pace of train travel more tolerable.

There is also the historical accuracy that comes with train journeys to the lost cities on my itinerary. When Uzhhorod and Oradea were known as Ungvar and Nagyvarad in Austria-Hungary, those who traveled to them would have done so by train. Contemporary railway lines still follow much of the network laid down by the Hungarian National Railways network during the last half of the 19^th century. Taking trains offers me an opportunity to follow the exact same routes in many cases. I am seeing the same landscape, as citizens of the empire saw it over a century ago. It is possible on these journeys to relive a semblance of the past while traveling at the same speed as citizens of the empire did long before me.

A New Direction – Puspokladany Railway Station (Credit: Aspectomat)

Mental Sanity – A New Direction
My love for train travel led me to decide that my best bet for efficiency and mental sanity will be to travel in a straight shot south from Uzhhorod to Oradea. This will not be easy. Traveling through rural areas that have changed little since the days of Austria-Hungary takes patience. The one thing that has changed is national borders. This inevitably leads to delays. Add to that, the usual issues with poor infrastructure found in some of the poorer parts of Eastern Europe and my journey from Uzhhorod to Oradea will either be an adventure or a nightmare. In this case, probably both. I began researching more straightforward and expedient options for the journey. This led me in another bizarre direction, the town of Puspokladany in eastern Hungary.

Click here for: The Long Haul – An Exhausting Journey To Oradea (The Lost Cities #6)

Difficult Destination – The Journey To Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #4)

There comes a time when I am developing a travel itinerary that fear takes hold and threatens to stop me from visiting the one place that is integral to the whole plan. In this case, that place happens to be Uzhhorod. That small city on the southwestern edge of Ukraine, a stone’s throw from Slovakia, and within a short drive of Hungary is my challenge, my obstacle, and my opportunity. The lost cities itinerary I have spent the past several days developing is now dependent upon an obscure city that kingdoms, empires, and nations have inherited, but never really knew what to do with it.

Uzhhorod is an outlier. Look no further than the fact that its location has helped it escape the worst of a horrific war. Uzhhorod is as hard to grasp as it is to access. A city that I have previously avoided because I did not have the time nor the energy to visit it, a city that has the most multiple personalities in its disorders, a city whose history is a mixed-up mumble jumble of ethnicities, languages, nationalities, and cultures that it defies logic. A city that adds another layer of complexity to my lost cities beyond the Hungarian border project. A city that has been lost to every entity that has tried to claim it since the turn of the 20^th century. A city that represents a place not only on the map, but inside of me. And now Uzhhorod has come back to baffle me.

Palatial transport – Uzhhorod Railway Station (Credit: Elke Wetzig)

Magical Thinking – Tendencies To Avoidance
Buses, I hate them. Border officials, I fear them. Transfers at train stations, I loathe them. These are the barriers that are causing me consternation as I try to find the best way to Uzhhorod. This should not bother me as much as it does. I love challenges. I am not so sure I love multiple challenges. Kosice to Uzhhorod is not an easy journey, even if there was no war going on in Ukraine. No trains travel there directly. The best routes I have found are indirect ones which require confusing acts of avoidance followed by unavoidable obstacles. My first mistake was to assume I could somehow make this journey easy on myself. Easy would mean straightforward. In the best of all worlds, I would find a train (always my preferred method of travel) from Kosice to the border. Then I could take a quick transfer by taxi into Uzhhorod. I discovered that is impossible.

That did not keep me from descending into the realm of magical thinking with a train taking me straight from Kosice to Uzhhorod. Never mind the different railway gauges, never mind border control, never mind the war going on, never mind reality, never mind that in these war-torn times almost everyone is heading in the opposite direction. My absurd railway fantasies were stillborn not long after they were first formulated. And still I kept thinking this should be so easy. Two major regional cities, Kosice and Uzhhorod, not very far apart, should somehow be connected. What I failed to take into consideration was that nothing had been easy here since the start of World War I had been through endless upheavals. The tumultuous times have occurred with such frequency that it is almost as though they have been institutionalized.

Made for waiting – Cierna nad Tisou Railway Station (Credit: Matijak)

Taking Sides – On The Brink
After being brought to the brink of depression by the lack of a straight shot between Kosice and Uzhhorod, I decided on the most sensible course of action. I would do whatever it takes to get there. The two travel options I found were not exactly appealing. The first was to get a bus from Kosice to the Slovakia-Ukraine border. That sounded rather simple, until I learned that it took four hours and ten minutes to cover less than one hundred kilometers. I did not even bother exploring that one further because all I could imagine was a rickety bus, belching out diesel fumes, while trying to dodge planet sized potholes That might sound like an exaggeration, but no more of an exaggeration than a bus traveling an average speed of 50 kilometers per hour all the way from Kosice to Uzhhorod.

The most difficult destinations to access are often the most rewarding. By that standard, Uzhhorod should be positively sensational, though at this point I am having my doubts. I will be thrilled if I can get there in the least stressful and most straightforward manner possible. I did manage to find a way of avoiding buses, but there is going to be no way of getting around border control. The journey will consist of first taking a train from Kosice to Cierna nad Tisou. I found the name of the latter more wonderful than the idea of changing trains there. From Cierna nad Tisou, I will take another train onward to Chop, which is where the official border crossing into Ukraine is located. Chop, as a name, always sounds so strange to me. I know from experience that the name is nothing to laugh at because the border officials there are very serious. I have spent many hours at rail sidings in Chop while train cars were modified for a different railway gauge. This was a small price to pay for a journey to Lviv in western Ukraine.

A beautiful past – Postcard of Ungvar (Uzhhorod) during the Austro-Hungarian Empire (Credit: Old Ungvar)

Obstacle Course – Waiting On The Border
At Chop, there will be a second train transfer for the trip onward to Uzhhorod. The only thing more difficult than this minor odyssey will be plotting my next route into Romania. Three lost cities – Kosice, Uzhhorod, and Oradea – in succession, each of which are in different countries. Most things in the lives of Eastern Europeans have gotten easier since the Iron Curtain collapsed, travel is not one of them. Neighbors in this neck of the woods are not very neighborly when it comes to crossing borders. Traveling from Slovakia to Ukraine and Ukraine to Romania still requires passing through tight border control. I wish that the situation was different, but it is not likely to change for the better until the ongoing Ukraine-Russia War is resolved. That resolution keeps getting pushed ever deeper into the future. That means longer waits for anyone hoping to visit the lost cities.

Click here for: Time Management – A Race Against The Clock To Oradea (The Lost Cities #5)

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

Budapest, Vienna, and Prague. Those three cities are as far eastward in Europe as most foreign visitors are likely to get. An argument can be made that none of those cities are even in Eastern Europe. Vienna and Prague see themselves as part of Central Europe. Budapest is close to the midpoint of Europe. As for Eastern Europe, it starts somewhere beyond those three cities. For purposes of my journey to the lost cities of Hungary, Eastern Europe could be said to start the moment I leave Bratislava and head eastward into the heart of Slovakia. This is a land little known to westerners, but of endless fascination for those who dare to visit it. Even from an armchair halfway across the world, I feel my pulse begin to quicken as I plan a journey into a remote and fundamentally different region of Eastern Europe. Whereas Vienna, Prague, and Budapest seem to enjoy being perpetually preserved in the past. The lost cities next on my itinerary have never been able to escape it.

The old and the new – Kosice (Credit: Draco)

Internal Affairs – Getting To Kosice
I find it strange to think that Bratislava and Kosice, the two cities which dominate the western and eastern halves of Slovakia today, were officially known as Pozsony and Kassa not so long ago. Other than Transylvania, Bratislava and Kosice were the greatest losses suffered by Hungary in the post-World War I Treaty of Trianon. Pozsony had become the coronation capital for Hungarian kings after the Ottoman Turks occupied much of Hungary, Kassa was home to one of the most magnificent cathedrals in Europe that housed the tomb of Ferenc Rakoczi, who led Hungary’s war of independence in the early 18^th century. As I continue to plan my itinerary for the seven lost cities found just beyond the current border of Hungary, Bratislava and Kosice loom the largest. Because of their importance, they have ample rail connections. For example, Bratislava is just an hour and 14 minutes by train from the previous stop at Eisenstadt in eastern Austria. Best of all, I can sidestep Vienna on that short journey. I would much rather see the countryside of the Burgenland (formerly West Hungary) than pass through the busy railway stations and urban sprawl of Vienna. 

Traveling onward from Bratislava to Kosice will be more time consuming due to the distance between Slovakia’s two largest cities. The average train journey between them takes five and a half hours. This raises an interesting point. The only time I traveled to Kosice was over a decade ago on a same day round trip from Budapest. That journey took three and a half hours. This is an hour and a half faster than the journey between Bratislava and Kosice. The railway network in Hungary was created with Budapest as its main hub. Long before Kosice was connected to Bratislava, the city’s first railway connection opened in 1860 via Miskolc, in what is today northern Hungary. The line I took on my first trip to Kosice followed this same route. The difference is that it now crosses the Hungary-Slovakia border.

Fortunately, there is no longer a delay for border control between Hungary and Slovakia since both are members of the European Union and Schengen Zone. The border still exists, waiting to cross it does not. It is also interesting to note that I could take a train from Bratislava to Budapest and then Budapest to Kosice in just over six hours, not including time to switch trains. That is not much longer than it takes to travel directly from Bratislava to Kosice. The reason for this goes back to the Austro-Hungarian Empire where railway lines that ran to, through or from Budapest were given top priority. Travel from Pozsony (Bratislava) to Kassa (Kosice) prior to World War was between two provincial cities. Nevertheless, I prefer a non-stop train from Bratislava to Kosice. This will allow me to see the countryside of central Slovakia, always a delight in a country known for its splendid nature.

Point of arrival – Postcard of Kosice Railway station in the 1920’s

Isolationism – Neither Here Nor There
The next lost city on my itinerary after Kosice is an outlier that will make the journey more difficult and fascinating. Uzhhorod is not on the Eastern European travel circuit. When it was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Uzhhorod was known by its Hungarian name of Ungvar.  The city was then, as it is today, a geographical oddity, located in a neither here nor there netherworld. Uzhhorod is on the southwestern edge of Ukraine. The Carpathian Mountains separate it from the rest of the country. This has made it a safe haven during the Ukraine-Russia War. Uzhhorod has little strategic military value. The city has changed hands from Austria-Hungary to Czechoslovakia to the Soviet Union to Ukraine since World War I. And yet it remains as isolated as ever.

Uzhhorod is not far from Ukraine’s borders with Slovakia and Hungary. Historically, the city has more in common with Hungary and Slovakia than it does Ukraine. That should make it easier to access, but it doesn’t. The Ukrainian border is where the European Union comes to an end. This makes crossing over it more difficult. An added issue is that Ukraine uses a different railway gauge then its western neighbors. For those who choose to ride the rails, this means getting off one train and boarding another or waiting for a couple of hours as the train’s undercarriage is switched to fit the narrower gauge rails. There is the additional complicating factor of the Ukraine-Russia War.

Object of desire – Uzhhorod (Credit: Ekaterina Polischuk)

Going Nowhere – Challenge & Opportunity
Getting to Uzhhorod from Kosice will not be easy. Nothing worth doing ever is. I have never been there before, mainly because it is on the way to nowhere. This makes Uzhhorod the quintessential lost city. In the past, I could never really make it part of a multi-stop journey. I imagined it as a one-off, the end of a line that I either bypassed or avoided. An obscure destination that I could not fit into an existing journey. That is no longer true. My goal of visiting the lost cities of Hungary means that I must visit Uzhhorod. The only problem is the best way to get there. That is the challenge. It is also an opportunity.

Click here for: Difficult Destination – The Journey To Uzhhorod (The Lost Cities #4)

Years of Attrition – Running In Place: 1915/16 & 2023/? (Russia’s Invasion of Ukraine #359b)

It is 1915 all over again. That date could just as easily be changed to 1916. Those two years are the most anonymous in the history of World War I. It is much easier to remember the year in which the war started. I cannot count how many times I have read about the beautiful European summer of 1914 which was abruptly interrupted by the Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo. This was then followed by the summer long march to war. 1917 is another year from the war that has gotten plenty of recognition due to the Russian Revolution. So has 1918. We were taught in school that the armistice was signed “at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month.” That numerical symmetry made November 11, 1918, easy to remember. As for 1915 and 1916, they act as outliers of wartime anonymity. Bleak periods marked by muddy trenches, shellshock, and senseless loss of life.

The only people likely to recall what happened in 1915 and 1916 are historians or military history buffs. For them, those years included the Battles of the Somme and Verdun on the Western Front and the Brusilov Offensive on the Eastern Front. These battles, like the campaigns which accompanied them, failed to bring about a decisive result. While one side or the other may have gained a tactical or even a strategic victory, it did little to alter the overall trajectory of the war. The best that can be said about such battles and campaigns is that they eroded the defender’s capabilities. Unfortunately, they eroded the aggressor’s capabilities even more. This was part of a long, hard slog of death and destruction that would not end for a couple of more years.

    No man’s land – Scene from the Battle of Bakhmut (Credit: Mil.gov.ua)

Wasted Years – The War Rages On
1915 and 1916 are the wasted years of World War I. Periods when the war stagnated, rather than stopped. This stalemate only served to prolong the war. There are parallels with the Ukraine-Russia War. 2023 was a year when tens of thousands of soldiers on both sides lost their lives in offensive operations that gained very little ground. The war is now at a stalemate with neither side strong enough to carry out a successful offensive.  2023 was 1915, 2024 could be 1916. The beginning of the war has become distant, the future looks limitless.

There is little doubt that in the near-term Ukraine and Russia will get weaker in a lengthening war. There will be strains felt not only on the battlefield, but throughout their respective societies. The next year will serve to further increase hardship on both combatant nations. The situation is bleak enough that it can make even those most fervently pro-Ukraine pause and wonder if the current situation might be as good as it will get for them.

Much the same could be said for the Russians, who while having an advantage in men and material, continue to display an inability to conduct successful offensive operations. The stalemate raises the same question that confronted the Great Powers during World War I. When is a less than ideal peace preferable to the gamble of future military operations which might erode one side or the other’s ability to sustain the war. The corollary is why do both sides insist on further damaging their future for minimal gains at best? Parallels with World War I are useful in understanding why the two sides keep fighting despite the war looking increasingly unwinnable. They are in the same position the Great Powers were in during World War I.

Bombed out – Residential building in Avdiivka, Ukraine (Credit: National Police of Ukraine)

Fighting On – Going In For The Kill
A parallel can be drawn between Ukraine in 2023 and France during the First World War. The same can be done for Russia and the German Empire. Ukraine, like France, suffered an invasion. This caused both to lose a large swath of economically productive territory. It also left large numbers of their civilians in the hands of aggressors. In trying to expel the invaders, both have incurred frightening levels of casualties. No politician would dare to call for a ceasefire after such sacrifices even if it could be in the national interest. It would lock in the aggressor’s gains. This means that Ukraine, just like France, will continue to fight. The alternative looks worse.

At the same time, the longer Ukraine fights the more men and material they will lose. Unlike Russia, Ukraine does not have a large pool of conscripts or volunteers to draw from. Each one they lose is much harder to replace. Continuing to fight the war will only exacerbate this problem. Ukraine’s leadership knows this, but just like the French they must try to liberate their territory, no matter the cost. Unlike the French, Ukraine does not have powerful allied armies fighting shoulder to shoulder with them.

As for Russia, the war has badly weakened their military and geopolitical standing, but many believe that Russia has weathered the worst of the war. The economy has been reconfigured to support the military. Russia is much less reliant on allies than the Ukrainians. Plus, Russia’s allies such as Iran and North Korea are more than glad to provide them with armaments for payment in cash or natural resources. Public support for the war in Russia is still lukewarm, but the Putin regime ensures that resistance is futile. For the first time since the war started, the Kremlin looks like it has the upper hand. Russia is in a somewhat similar position to the German Empire during World War I, which also had powerful western nations allied against it.

Open grave – Kaiser Wilhelm II inspects a trench during the German Spring Offensive in 1918

All or Nothing = Risk Management
In the spring of 1918, the Germans were on the cusp of victory. They had won the war on the Eastern Front. Their Spring Offensive in France and Belgium made remarkable gains until it stalled out. That would be the German’s last gasp. The strains of fighting the war almost totally alone on the Western Front finally broke the German Army. Political collapse soon followed. The Germans would have been much better off to have negotiated a settlement when they were in a position of strength. By continuing to fight, they were their own worst enemy. An all or nothing strategy resulted in defeat.

Russia shows no signs of negotiating either. Putin believes the west is tiring of the war and that support for Ukraine is waning. It might also be just as true that Russians are tired of the war and the astronomical number of casualties their forces are suffering. Continuing to fight and lose thousands of men each week is a risk Putin is willing to take. Whether or not the soldiers doing the fighting will continue to risk – and mostly lose – their lives could be a deciding factor. Right now, it is 1915 in the Ukraine-Russia War, but as World War I showed the situation can change radically.