A Lesson In Creativity – Understanding Burgenland (The Lost Lands #51)

Burgenland is like the person who gets invited to dinner and the guests forget they are there. After the meal is finished someone out of politeness finally asks them a question and is perplexed by the answer. The guests mutter to themselves, “what are they doing here?” No one answers and everyone goes back to ignoring them. Burgenland is the unexpected guest who is happy to never call attention to themselves. It does not ask for attention and affirmation. Burgenland is one of those places that does not make sense and somehow still does. It is the Austrian equivalent of the middle of nowhere. And for me, nowhere is the place to go.

Ideal setting – District of Oberwart in Burgenland (Credit: Zeitblick)

Becoming Burgenland – Bordering On War
Burgenland’s creation was improbable. I find that to be one of its most attractive traits. The phrase, “you can’t make this stuff up” comes to mind.  As a province, Burgenland never existed prior to the birth of Austria. It was cobbled together from the counties of Moson, Vas, and Sopron that had been in the Kingdom of Hungary. The name was contrived and to a certain extent so was its territory, but there was a certain logic to its creation. Two-thirds of the inhabitants in the 1910 Austro-Hungarian census of the region that would become Burgenland were German speakers. They were the descendants of ethnic Germans who migrated to the area in several waves over the previous 500 years. Putting them in Austria was logical. Hungary was not happy with the creation of Burgenland. They were in no position to do much about it, but that would not stop some nationalists from trying.

Burgenland became another of the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders. This was grudgingly accepted, but a backlash led to an uprising in West Hungary. The result would be Hungary gaining the city of Sopron and its outlying area through a plebiscite. The rest of Burgenland would remain as the eastern extremity of Austria. Burgenland would become a borderland in more ways than one. How many provinces can say that they share a border with three different countries, two of which – Slovenia and Slovakia – have a shorter existence than Burgenland. Like many borderlands, Burgenland was also a source of conflict during its birth. Two failed states arose there after World War I, the Republic of Heinzenland and Lajtabansag (Banate of Leitha). Burgenland might have been a backwater, but many of the inhabitants felt the land was worth fighting for.

Putting together the pieces – Burgenland’s Districts

Flip Sides – Going In Reverse
On a map, Burgenland looks like it was thrown together from disjointed parts grafted onto each other.  There is a symmetry to this that involves a geographical role reversal. Burgenland was the flip side of the same coin for Austria and Hungary. It was the westernmost part of the Kingdom of Hungary before it then became the easternmost extent of Austria. For the longest stretches of its history, Hungary administered the region, but Hungarians were never the majority ethnic group. In the early 20^th century, ethnic Germans outnumbered Hungarians eight to one. Astonishingly, ethnic Croatians also outnumbered Hungarians by almost two to one. Hungarians either owned large-landed estates, acted as border guards or were bureaucrats. This meager Hungarian presence made Burgenland an easy grab for the treaty makers as they created Austria. While this ended up working out, it is hard not to feel that there was a make it up as you go mentality.

Burgenland has a strong north-south orientation (166 kilometers) and a weak east-west one. It is much longer than it is wide. A traveler who wants to keep within the borders will inevitably find themselves going either north or south. The slenderest portion of the province is only five kilometers in width. That narrowness has presented problems in the past. During the Cold War, trains heading either north or south at one point would cross into Hungary. The doors were sealed so no one could leave the train while it transited this Iron Curtain corridor. Today, that is no longer a problem since Austria and Hungary are both in the Schengen Zone. I know from experience that it is easy to get around Burgenland despite its strange geography. It is helpful to remember that Burgenland’s shape was the product of a peace conference. That makes it easier to understand why it looks so strange on a map. This can be of benefit to the traveler.

Gloom & room – Courtyard at Burg Lockenhaus (Credit: Monyesz)

Casting Shadows – Gloom & Room
There are very few places with such a long and unique history that a traveler can cover in a couple of days or less. Burgenland is one of them. Driving the entire province from north to south takes as little as three hours. For those who want to see more, nothing is ever far off the beaten path. A comprehensive trip can cover Burgenland’s seven districts in less time than it takes to visit three or four museums in Vienna. It is bound to be more relaxing. Burgenland may be Austria’s smallest province, but it is also the least populated. Time moves to the rhythm of rural life. This allows for visiting the most important historic places at a leisurely pace. There are a couple of can’t miss castles for very different reasons. These are Burg Forchtenstein and Burg Lockenhaus. The former is associated with the Esterhazy’s, the pro-Habsburg Hungarian noble family par excellence whose splendid palace also adorns Eisenstadt.  

Lockenhaus casts a much darker historical shadow as it is one of Elizabeth Bathory’s old haunts. Putting her name with the place is bound to get attention as the infamous Blood Countess was reputedly the worst female serial killer in history, though that is open to debate. After contemplating Bathory’s exploits, everyone is bound to need a break. Burgenland’s diverse landscapes provide that. In the north, flat and rolling farmland predominates. The further south one travels, the hillier and more forested the terrain. Forchtenstein feels positively gloomy, perched on an outcropping of dolomite. In the southern reaches of Burgenland lies the warmest area of Austria. Positively balmy compared to the country’s Alpine areas. By this point, the traveler should have a good understanding of Burgenland’s geography and an idea of its history. Few travel the length of this lost land, but those who do will never forget it. Burgenland is nothing if not memorable. If only more people knew that.

Click here for: A Tale of Political Adventure – Heinzenland (The Lost Lands #52)

Itinerary Traveler – Burgenland By Way Of Comparison (Lost Lands #50)

Austria may be repressively pristine, but it is a traveler’s dream if they can afford it. This makes Burgenland the easiest of the lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders in which to travel. There is safe and reliable public transport. For anyone with their own vehicle, the roads are in excellent condition. Accommodation is plentiful, and infrastructure throughout Burgenland is top notch. Historic sites are well done, with exhibits in multiple languages. Though the landscape is nowhere near as stunning as the alps, Burgenland’s pastoral beauty is pleasing to the eye. If this all sounds like an advert for visiting Burgenland, well that is just the way Austrians like it. The province might not be perfect, but Austrians have tried and succeeded in making the visitor experience memorable. It is impossible not to compare this with the other lost lands, which are not nearly as refined. This is part of their allure, but it does have drawbacks. 

Rising to the sky – Rainbow in Neusiedler See-Seewinkel National Park
(Credit: Leander Khil)

Tripping Out – Pressed For Time
The largest portion of the lost lands is in Romania. They are so vast that one could spend a lifetime exploring them. That sounds wonderful, but the traveler is always pressed for time. Shrinking an itinerary down to something more doable will still result in having to cover a large swath of territory on either trains or buses that often do not run on time. The alternative is driving in a country with substandard roads and aggressive drivers. That is still the preferred option for the adventurous. Transylvania, Szekelyfold (part of Transylvania), Timișoara (Temesvar) and Oradea (Nagyvarad), are the four best places to understand the lost lands. I visited each of them over a seven-year period and still did not do them justice. Taking a trip to all four in the same journey would be an exercise in exhaustion and superficiality. The lost lands in Romania require multiple trips to see the most important sites and gain a thorough understanding of their history. Unfortunately, most travelers do not have the time, patience or curiosity needed to pull this off.

Slovakia has the second largest amount of territory that Hungary lost in the Treaty of Trianon.  Slovakia’s Hungarian population lives in the southern part of the country. That makes visiting the lost lands on a single trip easier than Romania, but it still be a daunting task. Bratislava (Pozsony) and Kosice (Kassa) – Slovakia’s two biggest cities – are the ones most important to Hungarian history and understanding the Treaty of Trianon. The two cities are on opposite sides of a mountainous country. Between them there is the Spis region which has been influenced by Hungarians. It should not be missed, both for its history and spectacular beauty. To give the lost lands in Slovakia their due diligence takes at least two trips. 

Timeless scene – Vineyard and house in rural Burgenland (Credit: Michellethewise)

Balkanization – Going Remote
Serbia’s lost lands can be done in a single trip. Most of the traveler’s time will be spent in Subotica and Sombor rather than exploring a flat and mostly featureless agriculture landscape. Slovenia’s Prekmurje region is a rural outlier with a small ethnic Hungarian population. There are few notable sites, and none of these attract a great deal of attention. On the other hand, there are few more illuminating experiences than spending time in rural villages frozen between past and present. This is how most Eastern Europeans used to live and some still do. The lost lands in Ukraine are remote geographically and geopolitically. Located in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains, few foreign visitors ever make it there.  Because Ukraine is currently defending itself against Russian aggression in the largest war in Europe since 1945, travel in the region is difficult. That is nothing new. This is one of the poorest areas in Ukraine with infrastructure to match. The Hungarian influence is notable in a few places, but nothing that would detain the traveler for more than a single trip.

Croatia is another outlier. It enjoyed more autonomy than other areas of the Kingdom of Hungary. The intertwined relationship between Croatians and Hungarians stretches back to the Middle Ages. This connection moderated much of the Hungarian rancor caused by Trianon in the other lost lands. Croatia went quietly. The parts of Croatia with Hungarian influence are not those found in popular images sold to western tourists. The Dalmatian coastline could not be further from eastern Croatia and the region of Slavonia. Working the land was as important in these areas as it was in Hungary. Baroque manor houses that went up after the Turks were expelled from the region in the early 18^th century are worth the effort it takes to get there. The traveler can be forgiven for thinking they have not strayed far from Hungary. The same could be said in different forms and fashions across the lost lands.

The long view – Burgenland (Credit: Grenzlandpoetin)

Charm Offensive – There For The Taking
That brings us to Burgenland. The lost land that does not feel like it is lost at all. Burgenland is just sort of there, waiting to be noticed. It is used to being ignored in Austria, as it was in the Kingdom of Hungary. Why should it expect anything else from foreign travelers? Its fellow citizens are beating the doors down to get there. They have other things on their mind, like Vienna. One of the oddest aspects of Burgenland is how its northern part can be so close to Vienna, and it is still overlooked. If not for the composer Joseph Haydn, would anyone be able to connect a person or place with Burgenland. I seriously doubt it.

Burgenland is the very definition of a place that is neither here nor there. Do foreigners know when they are passing through the province? Do they care? The inhabitants of Burgenland are at home, but no one is knocking. They do not seem to mind being ignored. Anonymity has its virtues. Those virtues are waiting to be discovered. Burgenland could use more wine enthusiasts, birders, Haydn obsessives. history lovers and ethnographers. Burgenland is a land of fascination if you know what to look for. Its subtle delights and rural charms are there for the taking. I can hardly wait.

Click here for: A Lesson In Creativity – Understanding Burgenland (The Lost Lands #51)

Footsteps of Fate – The Truth Lies Beyond In Historic Hungary (The Lost Lands #1)

Exile does strange things to people. Those suffering from it have been known to undergo a psychological transformation in which they begin to identify more with the land of exile than with their homeland. This psychosis is similar to the Stockholm Syndrome, where hostages begin to identify with those who have taken them hostage. As I continued to develop my itinerary for the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders, I began to dread the idea that eventually it would come to an end, but instead of resignation, I began to focus on delayed gratification. I would do this by segueing the lost cities into the lost lands. This would allow me to keep this journey going as long as possible.

I am a believer that you can never get enough of a good thing.  When someone asks me, “Do you ever stop?” I know that I am headed in the right direction. When they say, “Give it a rest.” I feel like giving it everything I’ve got. Curiosity never quits. The only thing that can stop us is ourselves. The end of one road can just as easily be the beginning of another. Dead ends are just detours that result in opportunities to reroute a journey in a new and equally exciting direction. This is the case with my lost cities itinerary which I am now turning into something just as ambitious, the lost lands.

Making History – Sombor (Zombor) in Vojvodina (Credit: Dekanski)

Going Too Far – An Itinerary of Exploration
The presence of the past informs the lost cities and lands beyond Hungary’s borders. As such, it is only appropriate to invoke one of my favorite quotes from a book that delves as deep into the past as any literature ever written. In Remembrance of Things Past, French author Marcel Proust plumbs the depths of his memory bank for thousands of pages. The intellectual erudition and psychological analysis of Proust is a treasure trove of wisdom. One of my favorite quotes from Proust sums up the fascination of traveling to lost cities and lands. “We must never be afraid to go too far, the truth lies beyond.” Pushing further onward, outward, and around the lands beyond Hungary’s borders will yield many more discoveries that help me understand the effects of Trianon past and present. At the same time, this project will also reveal greater historical truths beyond Trianon.

There is a great deal of ground to cover while exploring the lost lands. The task is daunting, made more difficult because there will never be enough time to visit every place. Fortunately, armchair travel has less limits than the physical kind. Armchair travel expands as far as the imagination. There are plenty of places affected by Trianon that are worth revisiting. A map and knowledge are the only things needed to get started from the comfort of my favorite armchair. The goal is a trip to the lost cities and lands of Historic Hungary that follow my imagined itineraries. I have been to many places in the lost lands, but never visited them as part of an intentional process. Piecing together the past into a coherent whole is a worthy pursuit. There are hundreds of cities, towns, villages, historic sites, and monuments awaiting rediscovery.

Pride in the Past – St. Jakob’s Church and Town Hall in Levoca (Lőcse) Slovakia
(Credit: Pudelek)

Minority Report – People & Proportions
My lost cities itinerary was supposed to end in Subotica, followed by a return trip to Budapest. That was until I decided it would be better to finish in Szeged, one of the Hungarian cities that did not get away in the aftermath of World War I. By the time the lost cities’ itinerary made its way to Szeged, I began to ask myself why not keep going? There must be more than seven lost cities awaiting my arrival beyond Hungary’s borders. Ironically, I had been in this same situation a few years ago. At the beginning of 2020, only a month before the pandemic began, I spent time in Subotica before heading back to Budapest via Szeged. I now have an opportunity to reimagine that part of my past. Rather than heading for home, I can voluntarily go into exile by crossing back over the Hungarian border and into the unknown. I am certainly not starved for choice. 3.2 million ethnic Hungarians living in cities, villages, and the countryside ended up outside the borders of Hungary after a few strokes of the pen at the Trianon Palace in Versailles on June 4, 1920.

10.7 million people in the lands of Historic Hungary suddenly found themselves in other countries. This was the desired result for Romanians, Ruthenians, Serbs, and Slovaks. It was the opposite for those 3.2 million ethnic Hungarians, most of whom lived in large pockets together. These pockets were scattered throughout the lost lands, though most were within a hundred kilometers of Hungary’s new border. Among the more notable places affected by Trianon were the lost cities of my first itinerary. Despite their notoriety, these cities did not make up a large proportion of the population affected by Trianon. The combined totals of Eisenstadt (3,073 population/1910 census), Bratislava (93,200/1921), Kosice (52,900/1921) Uzhhorod (13,590/1910), Oradea (64,149/1910) Timisoara (86,850/1920) and Subotica (101,286/1910) adds up to 415,048 people. That is a small proportion of the 10.7 million people that were no longer living in Historic Hungary. Furthermore, in several of the lost cities, Hungarians were not a majority. It is safe to say that the Lost Cities made up about a tenth of those 3.2 million ethnic Hungarians living beyond the borders of Hungary at time. 

Looking Back – Satu Mare (Szatmárnémeti) Railway Station
(Credit: Brück & Sohn Kunstverlag Meißen)

Old Wounds – The Past Is Paramount
All these calculations add up to a simple conclusion. There are millions of stories waiting to be unearthed in the lost lands. It is a place where the personal and political have been colliding for over a century. The effect has been an uneasy peace. The lost lands beyond Hungary’s borders are as peaceful (except for Ukraine) and prosperous as they have ever been. The worst tensions have abated though problems still surface from time to time. Scratch just beneath that surface and an old wound might just open because history has a different meaning there than in the rest of Europe. The past is paramount. I can hardly wait to visit. First by armchair, and then hopefully in person, because there is nothing quite like following in the footsteps of fate. 

Click here for: Taking Sides – Crossing The Hungary-Romania Border (The Lost Lands #2)

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

Sometimes the only place left to go is home. As my armchair travels around the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders nears the end, I began to look for the way home. There was one problem, I had trouble finding my way home. Was home back inside Hungary’s borders in Budapest where my itinerary started? Or was home outside those borders in the lost cities that I found a source of endless fascination. In my imagination, I felt more at home in the lost cities because they were the places still fraught with tension. Places where history was palpable, and ghosts could be discovered in broad daylight. 

Standing tall – City Hall in Szeged

Going Home – Subotica To Szeged
When I started developing the lost cities’ itinerary, I planned on ending the journey where it first began at Keleti Station in Budapest. Something about that slowly came to seem not quite right. I had drifted to so many places beyond Hungary’s borders, that heading back into its heart did nothing to excite me. I wanted to stay on the fringes and walk along the edges. There were old frontiers still worth exploring both inside and outside Hungary’s current border. That is why I am choosing one of the cities that ended up on the right side of Hungary’s border as the final stop. Szeged is not far from my final stop in Subotica and manages to surpass it in architectural wonders. Subotica and Szeged are not far apart. Both cities suddenly found themselves on the frontier. They have much in common and are distinctly different. For Hungarians, Szeged is the dream, Subotica the reality. That sense of bipolarity was something that millions of ethnic Hungarians came to know all too well when the Treaty of Trianon went into effect.

Finding home on this journey was not only pertinent to me. It also recalled the lost cities’ history. I was following in the footsteps of ethnic Hungarians. Millions had suddenly found themselves outside the borders of Hungary after the Treaty of Trianon took effect. Their lives and livelihoods were in limbo. They were left with two choices between bad and worse. They could either leave the only life they had ever known behind, or they could stay and try to make the best of what would be a very difficult situation. Some of them went back to Hungary because they had little choice as ethnic Hungarians were threatened, attacked, or faced discriminatory policies. Others stuck it out and managed to keep their lives afloat in the turbulent years ahead. 

Trianon was not the start of problems for ethnic Hungarians in Transylvania, Banat, Vojvodina, and southern Slovakia. Their problems began as the worst conflict up to that point in world history was entering its most chaotic phase. World War I did not end in Eastern Europe the way it did in Western Europe. By the time the armistice was signed in France on November 11, 1918, Austria-Hungary had already disintegrated twelve days earlier. This led to an extension of the war, albeit on a smaller, but more chaotic scale. The front lines were blurred with civilians caught in the crossfire. Hungary battled Czechoslovak, Romanian and Serbian forces on different fronts. The Romanian Army fought its way to Budapest before the victorious powers forced them to leave. Adding to the chaos was a revolution in Hungary that brought a communist government to power for six months in 1919. This did nothing to endear the Hungarians to the victorious powers. Territory was up for grabs. The strongest military force often proved decisive. 

Flag waving = The Union of Transylvania with Romania is declared on December 1, 1918 (Credit: Samoila Marza)

Internal Exiles – Climate of Chaos
The Hungarian Army was in no condition during this time to take control of all the territory that historically had been part of the Kingdom of Hungary and administered as such during the Austro-Hungarian Empire. For all its faults, the Treaty of Trianon brought order to this chaos, but that was not until it went into effect on June 4, 1920. By then hundreds of thousands of Hungarians had fled back to the core territory of Hungary (the nation as it exists today). These refugees were especially conspicuous in Budapest. Housing was in short supply. Many of them were forced to live in railroad boxcars. Fear, anger, and resentment were pervasive. When a counter-revolution was conducted by right-wing Hungarian forces, paramilitary justice against real and perceived communists was brutal.

It is hard to imagine just how chaotic the situation was in Europe during this time. It is just as hard to imagine the violent upheaval that took place across Eastern Europe. The political, military, and economic situation in Hungary was one of the epicenters of volatility. Ethnic Hungarian refugees who fled to the core of Hungary found that peace was precarious and prosperity non-existent. Only after the counterrevolution led by Admiral Miklos Horthy took power was a sense of order restored. Those who opposed the regime were lucky to escape with their lives. Many of them did not.

Horthy’s regime was not strong enough to do anything other than take control of core Hungary. The cities in what had been the Kingdom of Hungary were all but lost. Trianon would finalize facts on the ground. The refugees would not be going home anytime soon, if ever. Their resentment over what they had lost would be one of the defining factors in Hungarian politics during the interwar period. Regaining the lost lands would become a top priority for the Horthy regime. In that effort, they had the support of a populace seething with discontent towards socialists and Jews at home, and the successor states which took hold of Hungarian territory.

Cut off – Trianon memorial in Bekescsaba (Credit: Tobi85)

Traumatic Times – No Direction Home
Anyone who has ever suffered through a crisis in which they were forced to leave their home knows the psychological trauma and physical hardship it can cause. When there is no going back to the way things were and no clear path forward, people often turn inward on themselves. The same is true for nations. This happened to Hungary, as it did to the ethnic Hungarian refugees who fled there because they had no other place to go. Home had become a nebulous concept. In the lost cities and lands ethnic Hungarians were suffering much the same thing. The difference was that they had stayed put.

Click here for: Anecdotal Evidence – The Wrong Side of the Border in Historic Hungary (The Lost Cities #14b)

Magic Act – Subotica’s Starring Role (The Lost Cities #12)

I felt depression beginning to descend upon me as I neared the end of developing my itinerary for the lost cities beyond Hungary’s borders. By the time I reached the final city, Subotica in northern Serbia, I should have been suffering full blown sadness. Instead, I began to feel radiant. Subotica can do that to me. My first visit to the city took place four years ago and it was spectacular. A bright winter day, cool and crisp beneath a sky that could not have been bluer. Subotica’s architecture matched the rays of light that shined down upon it. The City Hall was one of the most impressive buildings I have ever seen and that was without stepping inside. Subotica gave me everything and left me wanting more.

Lighting ceremony – Splendor in Subotica

Now Playing – City Of Survival
Sometimes for your own sanity, you need to let things go. Loved ones you have lost, first loves that faded, other romances that failed, human and otherwise. Love usually comes and goes. It is like a secret that gets passed around. Once in a great while, true love stays with you. And so it is with the lost cities. They continue to occupy my imagination. Perhaps that is because of the inherent drama in their history since the late nineteenth century. Any one of the lost cities would make a great play. My final stop in Subotica is grand theater. There are multiple acts (Austria-Hungary, Kingdom of Yugoslavia, wartime Hungary, communist Yugoslavia, Serbia), heroes (Art Nouveau architects) and villains (communists, fascists, and nationalists), romance (not just for individuals, but for the entire city) and tragedy (World Wars I and II, Treaty of Trianon, the Holocaust) suffering and loss (ethnic Hungarians, Jews, other minorities), survival and resurrection (the city center, synagogue). All the ingredients are there for tragedy and triumph.

Various iterations of the play have been running for over a century to dramatic effect. There are matinees and midnight showings. The current version features Subotica’s survival and resurrection. Art Nouveau architecture plays the leading role. The performance does not disappoint. The play opens with the main protagonist seeing the Raichle Palace just after arrival at the train station. The decorative floral patterns on the building are in full bloom. That opening catches the viewer’s attention, Subotica Synagogue captures it. The superlatives to describe this scene have not yet been invented. The play unfolds from there throughout the city center. Reviews fail to do it justice, but the scribes still try. I located the following review deep in my imagination:

The Subotica Synagogue is the closest thing to magic. For those who have trouble believing in God, seeing the fully restored synagogue will prove to be a revelation. Its architecture and aesthetics, symmetry and spirituality are inspired by a higher power. Eternity is preserved within those hallowed walls. The synagogue proves to be as astonishing as the history of the people who worshiped there is tragic. Nothing in the viewer’s experience can prepare them for such a setting,

Subotica’s survival is the counterpoint to all the hurt, all the anger, all the pain, that fell on this little corner of Eastern Europe after the First World War. The city suffers grievous wounds for many decades, but the cityscape survives as an expression of human creativity and ingenuity. Its most stunning pieces of architecture represent the highest levels of artistic achievement. For the play’s protagonist, Subotica’s city center is a stand in for all that is worth saving in the world. He finally realizes that he has entered the magic kingdom. The spiritual force of the structures is so real that the viewer, like the protagonist, can feel them. The hand of God which designed, crafted, and sculpted Subotica reaches out to touch the audience.

Heavenly ascent – Inside Subotica Synagogue

Transcendent Beauty – Desperate Tragedy
Subotica is an endless reel, a succession of spectacular images that keep playing in my head. Do all good things have to end? Maybe not since Subotica and all the other lost cities are still standing. The itinerary I developed will end, but the lost cities will go on. Someone, somewhere, right now is rediscovering them. They are seeing something of themselves in the transcendent beauty and desperate tragedy that stalks their squares and streets. The greatest discovery I made while developing my itinerary is that in the lost cities, I see the best and worst aspects of myself. In Eisenstadt, my frivolity is represented by the candy-colored Esterhazy Palace. In Bratislava’s Old Town, the walls I have built around myself to keep the rest of the world out. In Kosice’s towering St. Elisabeth’s Cathedral, a dream I will never reach. In Uzhhorod, the place where I fear to go. In Oradea, the best version of myself. În Timișoara, my ingratitude for the gift of life after the apocalypse. In Subotica, my belief that life is everlasting.

Each lost city feels like the first and last day on earth. I am sure many of those who suffered and survived in them felt the same. The Austro-Hungarian Empire could be just as bright and beautiful as those who built it. The empire could also be just as dark and decadent as those who destroyed it. All empires vanish, not a single one has managed to survive. That stark fact should be just as humbling to us as Austria-Hungary’s collapse was to its inhabitants. The true measure of an empire is not in its ascension and apex, nor in its decline and fall. The true measure of an empire is its legacy. What it leaves behind for others to build upon, to aspire, to protect, and preserve. In that regard, the legacy of Austria-Hungary is well served by the lost cities. There is still life in those ruins.

Lighting up the night – Subotica’s City Hall

Imperial Ways – Life Lessons
The lost cities are astonishing storehouses of art, architecture, and culture. They teach us lessons in history from which we can learn. They show how to prosper during good times and endure when all hope seems lost. They demonstrate the ability to bask in past glories, while stepping boldly into the future. They tell us to enjoy what we have because one day it will be gone. They demonstrate that nothing is inevitable, even if it seems that way.

Click here for: Obstacle Course – Navigating Trianon (The Lost Cities #13)

In Defiance of Fate (Part One) -The Republic of One Day: Carpatho-Ukraine

On March 15, 1939, the sun rose on the eastern slopes of the Carpathian Mountains, in the land known as Subcarpathia. A new day was about to dawn both literally and figuratively. For the eight hundred thousand-odd people living in Subcarpathia at the time, it would be their last day ever as part of Czechoslovakia. The area was about to experience an identity crisis of historic proportions. This remote land, a forgotten backwater, began the day as an autonomous region of Czechoslovakia. At lunchtime it was a newly independent nation, known as the Republic of Carpatho-Ukraine. By the next morning it was part of Hungary. Independence was fleeting, it did not even last the night. In just twenty-four hours, the population had been part of three separate nations. If given a choice, the majority of the populace would have preferred independence, but history was not on their side. The story of this land and its people’s geo-political situation over the past century is filled with fits and starts, false hopes and lost dreams. Independence turned out to be a dead end, but in the process, due more too historical accident rather than design, by the end of the 20^th century, the region had received the next best thing, virtual autonomy. Through it all, in defiance of fate, the majority Rusyn population of the area retained a distinct identity.

Carpatho-Ukraine in March 1939

Playground of the Powers: Great & Small
Carpatho-Ukraine is a beautiful, bucolic land. It contains the foothills and smaller mountains of the Carpathian range. The Carpathians are well known in Europe, but not the small slice that is part of Ukraine. The majority of the Carpathians lie further south in Romania, famous as part of Transylvania. This is a forgotten land, relatively unknown, with a modern history that is complex and confusing. Ukraine, roughly translated means borderland, and Carpatho-Ukraine, is the ultimate borderland in a border country. A quintessential frontier, it has been an appendage of empires and nation-states from time immemorial. In the last one hundred years it has been the playground of a withering array of political entities. These have included the Austro—Hungarian Empire, the Hungarian Red (Communist) Republic, Romania, the West Ukrainian People’s Republic, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, the Soviet Union and the Ukraine. It has been conquered and occupied, as well as autonomous and independent. Presently it is a province of Ukraine, but has a coat of arms and flag that is almost an exact replica of the one that was used when it declared independence.

The idea of an independent republic that could not even last a day seems to be an historical absurdity. Was Carpatho-Ukraine unworthy of nationhood? Was this an attempt to take advantage of a specific geo-political situation? This slice of the sub-Carpathians failed as an independent nation in 1939 because it was crushed by powerful geo-political entities carving up Europe to suit their own interests. Paradoxically it was only because of power politics that Carpatho-Ukraine was able to gain its independence, if only for one day.

Occupying force – a Hungarian soldier in Khust (Credit: fortepan.hu)

History As Opportunism: The Disintegration of Czechoslovakia
To understand, the situation Carpatho-Ukraine found itself in, one must understand what was happening to Czechoslovakia, the nation-state it was part of from 1919 to 1939. Adolf Hitler and Nazi Germany first began to dismember Czechoslovakia by occupying the Sudetenland to “protect” the German population from the Czechs. Hitler and his henchmen were not the kind of geo-political players who could ever be appeased. It was not long before the Nazis wanted all of Bohemia and Moravia, the traditional homeland of the Czechs. In addition, Hitler had allowed Hungary to take the southern part of Slovakia, with its large Hungarian population. Meanwhile the rest of Slovakia had declared autonomy. Because of this, Czechoslovakia was being divided or perhaps more to the point, hyphenated. Its name was actually changed to Czecho-Slovakia, reflecting the virtual separation of Slovakia from the Czech portion of the state. Forgotten in the unfolding of this historical tragedy was a third, bit player.

The far eastern quarter of Czechoslovakia was known as Trans-Carpathia. It was neither Czech nor Slovak. Neither was it Hungarian, even though it had been part of the Hungarian portion of the Austro-Hungarian Empire prior to World War I. It contained a smattering of Slovaks, Germans, Hungarians and Jews, but two-thirds of the population was Rusyn or Ruthenian, a people who were akin to the larger Eastern Slav population of Ukraine. Eventually, perhaps inevitably they would come to be called Ukrainians and the land they inhabited as the Carpatho-Ukraine. Following World War I Ukraine as a political entity had failed. Thus, Carpatho-Ukraine was attached to Czechoslovakia in 1919. Fast forward two decades, with Czechoslovakia disintegrating, Carpatho-Ukraine declared autonomy on October 11, 1939. Five months later, on March 14^th, as the Germans stormed into Bohemia and Moravia, and Slovakia about to become an independent nation, a Carpatho-Ukrainian parliament convened in the city of Khust. There they voted to become an independent republic.

Panorama of Khust, Ukraine – the capital of the Republic of Carpatho-Ukraine (Credit: Власна робота)

No Man’s Land – Oppressors and the Oppressed
Within a few hours of this declaration the leaders of Carpatho-Ukraine fled into exile. The reason, Hungarian troops were already crossing the border. By the evening of March 15^th a Hungarian force the size of two army divisions had invaded Carpatho-Ukraine. The new republic’s defense force, known as the Carpathian Sich, consisted of only 5,000 troops. By the next morning, Carpatho-Ukraine ceased to exist. It was now part of Hungary, despite the fact that less than ten percent of its population was ethnically Hungarian. Why did the Hungarians want this region? It allowed them a strategic wedge between Romania and Czechoslovakia (which ironically now ceased to exist). These states had dismembered “Historic” Hungary in the aftermath of World War I. Now the Hungarians were reconstituting their former domains. Amidst this geo-political morass were the Carpatho-Ukrainians. Their incipient state vanished into oblivion, their autonomy was gone. Nonetheless, a historic seed had been planted.

The Hungarians would come to regret their land grab. Although the Republic of Carpatho-Ukraine lasted less than a day, Hungarian rule over the area was also fleeting. Only five years later, in 1944, the Soviet Army came roaring out of the east. Many of the Hungarians and virtually all Germans in the area were either deported to the Gulag or murdered. Carpatho-Ukraine now became part of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic which was part of the Soviet Union. Thus, Carpatho-Ukraine became a constituent of a constituent republic. Interestingly, the idea of a Republic of Carpatho-Ukraine did not end on that fateful Wednesday of March 15^th, 1939. It has had an intriguing after life, one that will be discussed in a coming blog post.

 

 

In The Hands of History (Part Two) – Geza Nagy & Brian Walton: A Voice From Russia

Geza Nagy and his fellow Hungarian soldiers began the longest walk of their lives by following a trackless path across endless expanses of ice and snow. They shivered their way across blindingly white landscapes during the day. At night, the darkness was all consuming, not only up in the sky, but also in each man’s soul. Who knows how many of them dropped dead along the way? This nightmare continued for weeks on end. Five long months of frost bite or knee deep mud, with defeat and death shadowing their every step. Somehow, despite the distance and the weather, in a land swarming with enemy partisans, thousands of haggard, tired Hungarian soldiers, epitomized by men like Geza Nagy, managed to stumble their way back to Hungary. They were home, but the war was far from over.

World War 2 hit Hungary hard – photo of a badly damaged Chain Bridge with Buda Castle in the distance

Out of Death & Into Life
Brian said that Nagy was only allowed a brief respite in his homeland before the Soviet Army reappeared. They had fought their way from the Don to the Danube. Communism was ascendant in Hungary and for that matter, in Eastern Europe as well. The Soviet Army brought the Cold War with them. Having been an officer in the old Hungarian Army made Nagy a wanted man. As an intellectual, he was also an enemy of the state. Nagy did not wait to be arrested, he left his country behind.  Somehow he had survived to live another life. And what a life it turned out to be. Geza Nagy’s postwar life raises more questions than answers. What was his role during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956? What was he doing in his work for Interpol? How did he get to Canada, then the United States? A life of learning and scholarship had been transformed into one filled with mystery, intrigue and adventure. Did this compensate for the shame of defeat, loss and exile that had preceded it? Who can say? Perhaps even Nagy himself did not know the answer to that question.

 

A Soviet soldier hangs a sign in Budapest with the city’s name translated into Russian

While Geza Nagy was running from one war to the next, Brian Walton was hard at work in school, excelling in every subject imaginable. He was a brilliant student, one of his nation’s brightest minds, the polar opposite of his surroundings. The post-war Britain he grew up in was not one of majesty and splendor, but of gritty factories and brown skies. Britain may have been on the winning side during the war, but it had hardly been victorious. The war left a long shadow over the British economy that stretched all the way into the 1960’s. After completing his university education at Cambridge, Brian Walton fled west as well. He came to the United States where professorships and pay were much greater. America was the land of opportunity for those exiled by war, economics or ideology.

Good Men & Bad Causes – The Voice of Russia
The legacy of World War II shaped the lives of Nagy and Walton as it did to millions of others. It pushed them far away from their respective homelands. It also brought them together. Who would have imagined that a brilliant intellectual from a small village in the Zemplin Hills of Hungary and a British scholar raised in the public housing of gritty, industrial Stockport would come to teach the history of western Civilization in a beautiful backwater of the Appalachian Mountains? They brought brilliance with them, but also their own attitudes and prejudices as well. Brian said that Nagy still professed an undying belief in the cause for which he had fought, even though it nearly destroyed him and his country. That cause turned out to be a hopeless one. The attempt to restore historic Hungary by aligning with the fascists only brought suffering, sorrow and decades of Soviet occupation to Hungary. Nagy and his country came to regret their mistake not just one time, but continuously.

Good men dying for a bad cause – A Hungarian soldiers cemetery in the Ukraine

“Plenty of good men have died for bad causes” were the words Brian once used to describe the disastrous folly of so many wrong-headed wars. That quote brings to mind all of those Hungarian soldiers who were swallowed up by the sheer size, scale and epic mismanagement of the Hungarian 2^nd Army. Nagy escaped with his life, but only for a while. Eventually the Eastern Front caught up with him as well. Brian said Nagy used to cough horribly from bronchial problems he had contracted during the icy retreat. The wheezing, the hoarse coughing, might be interpreted as a voice from Russia, echoing down the decades as a cruel reminder of the horrors of war. In 1976, Geza Nagy finally died. His heart, of such great courage, was not enough to overcome the weakness of his lungs.

Haunted by History – The Difference Between Us
As for Brian Walton, at the time of Nagy’s death he was much younger, healthier and in the prime of his life. He would teach all the way into the 21^st century. In his lifetime the British Empire collapsed, but the British economy surged once again. The row house in which he grew up was knocked down and housing for the middle class erected in its place. The war into which he was born became a distant, yet distinct memory. He never quite trusted the Germans, but fear of the Teutonic juggernaut, which had once ruled Europe and threatened the very existence of Britain, slowly disappeared. Time and distance healed many of the war’s wounds, but scars still remained.

The dream of a united Europe may prove illusory (Credit: Leena Saarinen)

Brian never really believed that Europe could be truly unified. The European Union was an artificial creation, an attempt to keep the Germans from becoming too powerful. If not German military power, than German economic power would come to rule Europe. The French were obsessed with being difficult, the British were not continentals and never would be, the Italians were wonderful people, but their politicians ridiculous, other European countries were too small. The only exception was Russia, which wasn’t really European. It was riddled with corruption and hell bent on screwing things up. Europe’s past was its future, but God forbid another cataclysmic war should come to Europe. Brian never had to see that day, he died in July just as Russian troops were crossing the border into the Ukraine.

*An End Note: Brian Walton, like Geza Nagy spent his professional life studying and teaching history. He had a natural curiosity about all things historical, but even the most brilliant scholars are limited by time and interest. This was especially true for Brian when it came to Eastern European history of which only knew a very limited amount. Perhaps this had something to do with the era he was born into. For nearly fifty years, Eastern Europe was closed off behind an Iron Curtain. Most of what Brian knew about the region’s past came from Eastern Europeans themselves, men such as Geza Nagy. The anecdotal evidence from one man’s experiences can be more telling than thousands of pages of facts. This was certainly true of Geza Nagy and it was also true of Brian Walton. These men not only taught history, they also helped make it. By looking back at their lives and their experiences we can, just for a moment, recapture the past. In death, as in life, they are still teaching us history.

 

A Shared Legacy: Romanians, Hungarians, Matthias Corvinus & the Identity of Cluj

Cluj-Napoca (commonly known as Cluj), the largest city in Transylvania, holds a special place in the hearts of Romanians and Hungarians. To Romanians it is a university city. The 50,000 strong student population of Babes-Bolyai University gives the city a vibrant, pulsating energy. As one of the largest cities in Romania, it has a thriving economy that has done much better than the rest of the country. This comparative wealth has made it a magnet for the youth of Romania who are looking to get ahead and enjoy a better quality of life more in line with other European Union nations. To Hungarians, it will forever be known as Kolozsvar, once the capital of Erdely (the Hungarian name for Transylvania). Koloszvar was the urban and cultural heart of a land Hungarians see as inseparable from their history. Erdely was cut asunder from Historic Hungary by the post-World War I Treaty of Trianon. This left the ethnic Hungarian population of Cluj isolated deep in the heart of Transylvania. This has left them yearning for what a lost past. This longing colored relations between the Romanians and Hungarians throughout the 20^th century and was the central force in Cluj’s history for nearly a century.

Babes-Bolyai University in Cluj

From Majority to Minority – The Hungarians of Cluj
The fact that Hungarians continued to be the majority ethnic group in Cluj long after the Treaty took effect meant they were a force to be reckoned with in the city’s economic, political and cultural life. Hungary was even able to regain their beloved Koloszvar, along with northern Transylvania, as a gift (or a bribe) from Hitler for entering World War II on the German side. This gift proved to be both ephemeral and costly. It vanished as ill-gotten gains so often do. This left Koloszvar’s Hungarian population in limbo once again. As late as 1948 Hungarians still made up 57% of Cluj’s population. With the communists taking control of post-war Romania, the Hungarian population became a distrusted ethnic group stuck in the wrong country at the worst time. Hungarians had held economic power in the city for centuries. The communists soon limited the civil rights of Cluj’s Hungarian population. Communist oppression proved overwhelming. The ethnic Hungarian populace sought refuge abroad.

Those who were unable to flee the city, suffered mightily under the policies fomented by the iron fisted dictatorship of Nicolae Ceaucescu. Ceaucescu was deeply suspicious of all ethnic Hungarians, branding them enemies of the state. In 1974 the communists led by Ceaucescu decided to change the name of Cluj to Cluj-Napoca. Napoca being the pre-Roman name for a city that stood on the site of Cluj two thousand years before. It was a lackluster attempt to prove that Romanians predated Hungarians in Transylvania by a thousand years. Ceaucescu’s efforts to settle historical disputes with pompous decrees turned out to be short-lived. On Christmas Day 1989, Romanians as well as ethnic Hungarians cheered as he was relegated to the dustbin of history. He was arrested, quickly given a show trial where he was found guilty of crimes against his own people. Within hours he had been executed, along with his wife. As for Cluj-Napoca, nearly everyone still refers to the city as Cluj. After the fall of Ceaucescu, ethnic Hungarians sought to better their fortunes in other countries, namely Hungary. This emigration resulted in a large loss of the ethnic Hungarian population in Cluj. Presently they make up only 16% of the city’s population.

The Matthias Corvinus Statuary Group – in Cluj’s Union Square

A Shared Legacy – The Birthplace of Matthias Corvinus
The present situation is an improvement over the not so distant past. Both Romania and Hungary are members of the European Union, which acts a strong guarantor of minority rights. This, along with the city’s relative prosperity has caused tensions to wane. Acts of violence by one group against the other are now scarce. The biggest barrier to integration is a deep sense of mistrust. This is the main legacy of the Ceaucescu era. Yet there are still some Romanians who would prefer that all the Hungarians in Cluj and Transylvania move to Hungary once and for all. Conversely, Hungarian nationalists (the large majority of whom live in Hungary) want Kolozsvar and Transylvania given back to Hungary. There is little chance either group of extremists will get there way. Commonalities between the two groups are rarely emphasized in the news. Conflict and controversy sell, peaceful coexistence does not.

Strangely enough in Cluj’s main square, Piati Unirai (Union Plaza) there is a statue that has proven contentious, despite the fact that it serves to emphasize a common historical figure who was both Romanian and Hungarian. This is the equestrian statue of the Great “Hungarian” King, Matthias Corvinus. Corvinus is remembered as the king who kept the Ottoman Turks at bay in the late 15th century. In addition, under his rule, Hungary became the first European state outside of Italy to experience the Renaissance. One of the most famous Corvinus historic sites, his birthplace, can be seen in Cluj.

St. Michael’s Church – legacy of the Saxons

Identity Crisis – The Roots of a King
In the winter of 1443, Corvinus was born at a small guesthouse in Cluj. His father was none other than Janos Hunyadi (Ioan de Hunedoara to Romanians), Voivode (Governor) of Transylvania. A famed military figure who had worked his way through the ranks of the nobility to a leading position in the Kingdom of Hungary. Corvinus mother, Erzsbet Szilagyi, came from an influential Hungarian family. Now what’s interesting is that Hunyadi, who is celebrated as a national hero by Hungarians was also partly Romanian. He descended from a noble family of Wallachian origin. Wallachia was the historic heart of Romania. At the time, chronicles referred to Hunyadi as Valchus (the Wallachian). This means that Corvinus was half-Hungarian and half Romanian. Both Hunyadi and Corvinus are lauded as Hungarian national heroes, but no one much bothers to mention their Romanian blood. At the heart of Cluj’s inner town lies the Matthias Corvinus statuary group.

Ever since the Iron Curtain was swept aside there has been talk of removing the statue. The larger than life sculpture portrays Corvinus in heroic fashion, towering above the viewer. Below him are four of his leading generals (admittedly they were all Hungarian). Instead of arguing about whether the statuary group should be removed, perhaps an information board or plaque of some type should be placed close by to inform visitors, especially Cluj’s citizenry, that it’s most famous son is reflective of the city’s multi-ethnic history. Corvinus was one of the greatest kings in history. That is something everyone in Cluj should be proud of. His dual ethnicity illuminates the complex and conflicted history of the area. Cluj and Transylvania was an ethnically mixed place, it still is today.

Speaking of mixed up, the Corvinus statuary group stands in front of St. Michael’s Cathedral. This mighty Gothic structure is one of the finest examples of a medieval hall church in Europe. It is a product of the German Saxons who called the city Klausenberg. In Transylvania, the deeper one digs into history, the more complicated and diverse it gets. No one in Cluj really owns the past, instead they all share it.

Failure to Assimilate: Count Apponyi & the Fate of Historic Hungary at the Paris Peace Conference

At 2:30 p.m. on January 16, 1920 at the Quai D’Orsay in Paris, Count Albert Apponyi prepared to give a verbal presentation of the Hungarian position on the peace terms submitted to Hungary by the Allied powers. The terms of the treaty to be imposed on Hungary were shocking in the extreme. If there were no alterations, the Kingdom of Hungary would lose over two-thirds of its land base and population. Even worse, one-third of the Kingdom’s ethnic Hungarian population would end up under foreign rule. The redrawn borders would sever ancestral homelands. Such historic territories as Transylvania (Erdely in Hungarian) and Upper Hungary (Felvidek) would be taken away. The rulers were on the verge of becoming the ruled.

Count Albert Apponyi – man of letters & proponent of Magyarization

Speaking In Tongues – Historic Hungary & The Nationalities
Apponyi must have been unsettled by the historically twisted position he found himself in. As Minister of Education for the Hungarian Kingdom thirteen years before, he had been one of the main proponents of what became known as the Apponyi Laws. These laws required that instruction in reading, writing and arithmetic for students could only be given in Hungarian. This had been the ultimate outcome of a process known as Magyarization, in which ethnic subjects of the Kingdom – whether Romanian, Slovak, German, Serb, Slovene, Croat, Rusyn or Jew – were to be educated socially and culturally in Hungarian. They were to be transformed from Slav, Teuton and Latin into loyal Magyar subjects in the Hungarian half of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

Count Albert Apponyi had been born into one of the most ancient and noble families in Hungary. He was uniquely qualified for the role he was about to play in Paris. He was extremely accomplished in politics and literature. A man of vast intellectual gifts, over the final twenty-two years of his life he would be nominated no less than five times for the Nobel Prize. A successful career in letters saw him pen eleven books. These focused mainly on politics and philosophy. A brilliant orator, fluent in six languages, his speech at the Quai d’Orsay was to be given first in English, followed by French and Italian. None of these three languages were his mother tongue. That is revealing.

Historic Land Grab – The Ethnic Backlash
Apponyi’s first language was Hungarian. The overriding majority of those present on that mid-winter’s day would have scarcely understood a word of Hungarian. The fact was that those who sat in judgment of Hungary knew very little about it. What mattered was that it had ended up on the losing side of the Great War as one-half of the defeated Austro-Hungarian Empire. Most importantly, the lands of historic Hungary contained a majority of ethnic minorities.

This transformation, which had been greatly resisted by the subject peoples, had been halted by the First World War. Now these same ethnic groups had thrown off the yoke of servitude and were in the process of either creating new nation-states or expanding their existing borders at the expense of historic Hungary. Meanwhile the Hungarians lay defeated, torn asunder by internal tumult as rival democratic socialist, communist and nationalist forces took control of a rapidly dwindling homeland. Parts of the nation were occupied by Romanian, Czechoslovak and Serb forces. A historic land grab was in progress.

Treaty of Trianon – this map shows the vast consequences of the Paris Peace Settlement which dismembered Historic Hungary

The Last Bastion of Defense
Count Apponyi’s words would be the last bastion of defense for Historic Hungary. Nothing less than the Magyar homeland was at stake. In accented English he began to speak:

In the first place we cannot conceal our astonishment at the extreme severity of the conditions of the peace. This astonishment can easily be explained. The conditions of the peace treaties contracted with the other belligerent nations, with Germany, Austria and Bulgaria were certainly also severe. But not one of these contained such significant territorial changes inevitably affecting the national life, as those we are called upon to accept.

You, Gentleman, whom victory has placed in this tribunal, you have pronounced guilty your former enemies, the Central Powers, and have decreed that the burden of the war should be cast upon those responsible for it. So be it in that case, I think, in dividing the burden, the measure of guilt should decide the proportion. Hungary being punished by the most severe conditions, threatening her very existence, one would think that of all nations she was guiltiest.

…the peoples right of self-determination should be considered. A statement might be hazarded as to the rights of minorities being more effectually assured on the territories of the new states than they were in Hungary.

I do not, on this occasion, wish to plead the case brought against Hungary relative to the alleged oppression of the non-Hungarian races. I will confine my words to declaring myself well pleased should our Hungarian brethern on the territories torn from our country enjoy the same rights and facilities as the non-Hungarian citizens of Hungary enjoyed.

Hungary was in possession of every condition of organic unity with the exception of one: racial unity. But the states to be built up on the ruins of Hungary – according to the terms of the Treaty – will also lack racial unity, the one condition of unity missing in Hungary – nor, may I add, will they possess any other.

Count Apponyi – in his later years he represented Hungary at the Paris Peace Conference, but failed to get the peace terms changed

Actions Versus Words – A Failure To Assimilate
Apponyi’s oration stated the Hungarian position precisely while at the same time exposing its fatal flaws. The ethnic minorities of Hungary had been given extremely limited rights when it came to the use of their mother tongue. The basic right they had been given: was to become Hungarians. This was something they would never be, because this was something they never wanted to begin with. Even after decades of forced Magyarization, they still spoke their own languages, kept their own customs and obeyed their historic traditions. The failure to assimilate these minorities was fatal to Historic Hungary.

Apponyi as the former minister of Education surely understood all this very well. He had tried – along with many of his countrymen- to make Hungarians out of people who were not. His speech in defense of historic Hungary was in vain. The terms of the Paris Peace for Hungary went unchanged. They would be imposed later that same year. It was not so much that Apponyi had failed that day in Paris, it was more that he had failed with his education policies many years before. His actions had already spoken and they were much more convincing than his words.

A Crowning Achievement – St. Martin’s Cathedral: Where Hungarian History Reigns Supreme

Over a period of nine hundred years, the monarchs of the Kingdom of Hungary were crowned in four different cities. Three of these four cities still lie in the territory of the Hungarian nation today. They are Esztergom, Budapest and Szekesfehervar. Interestingly, it was the last of these three towns that saw more Hungarian monarchs crowned than any other. From the middle of the 11^th century through the middle of the 16^th, no less than 37 kings and 39 queens consort were crowned in Szekesfehervar, at the Basilica. This was exactly how the first King of Hungary, Stephen I had planned it. Stephen had ordered the construction of a grand basilica around the year 1010 for just such ceremonies. It was one of the largest and most prominent buildings in Europe during the Middle Ages, a symbol of the power, majesty and Christianity of the Kingdom. Long before Visegrad or Budapest came to prominence, Szekesfehervar was the nerve center of Hungary during the Middle Ages.

St. Martin’s Cathedral – Coronation site of Hungarian monarchs from 1563 to 1830

The Coming of the Turks – The Path to Pozsony 
As with so many things in the history of the Kingdom of Hungary, this underwent radical change with the invasion of the Ottoman Turks.  In 1543, the Turks occupied Szekesfehervar. They proceeded to loot the tombs of the 15 kings and queens buried in the Basilica. Their banditry knew no bounds. It respected neither tradition nor religion. Insultingly, the Basilica was turned into a storage site for gunpowder. With much of their kingdom occupied, Hungarian leaders had little choice, but to move the coronation site. Beginning in 1563, coronations took place in upper Hungary, at St. Martin’s Cathedral in Pozsony (present day Bratislava, Slovakia).  For over two-hundred and fifty years, prospective monarchs strode through the Old Town of Pozsony along the coronation route. They made their way to the Gothic confines of the cathedral where kings and queens were crowned.

Following the expulsion of the Turks from the lands of historic Hungary in the late 17^th century, coronations continued to take place in Pozsony. The last one occurred in 1830. In the meantime, the basilica in Szekesfehervar had longed since ceased to exist. It was destroyed in 1601 when a Habsburg Army unsuccessfully laid siege to the city. The gunpowder stored inside the basilica was sparked by fire from the ongoing battle and consequently blew up. Meanwhile St. Martin’s served the purpose of continuity and tradition. As the site for the coronation of 19 kings and queens, including no less a historical personage than Maria Theresa, it played an integral role in both Hungarian and Habsburg history. The coronations may have ended in Pozsony by the mid-19th century, but history was not through with the place.

Coronation of Maria Theresa at St. Martin’s Cathedral in 1741

Historical Twists  – The Fate of Hungary’s Coronation Sites
The city was lost by the Hungarians, along with Upper Hungary (Felvidek) to the newly created state of Czechoslovakia, due to the post-war Treaty of Trianon that followed World War I. Today Pozsony is Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia. Other than tourists, the presence of ethnic Hungarians in the city is minimal. In a historical twist of fate concerning the coronation sites, Hungarians had been detached from their history during the Middle Ages at Szekesfehervar due to an external threat. Nearly four hundred years later, they were once again severed from their historical past, but this time by an internal disruption. St. Martin’s Cathedral with its glorious past was cut asunder from its historical antecedents.

Today the cathedral still stands on the western edge of what was the Old Town of Pozsony. Within a stone’s throw, a major highway acts as a conduit for automobiles racing back and forth over the Novy Most Bridge and the Danube. In the last decade and a half, the church has undergone stabilization due to the vibrations caused by the nearby traffic. In this case, the past has become present once again, in prior centuries the church survived fires, earthquakes and lightning strikes. Today the question is whether it will survive the rumblings of modernity? Perhaps this is an apt metaphor for the presence of Hungarian history in Bratislava. It rests on shaky foundations.

Crowning achievement – The gold plated replica of the Holy Crown of Hungary atop St. Martin’s Cathedral

St. Martin’s Cathedral – Where History Reigns Supreme
The question today is how will the rich history of St. Martin’s Cathedral be viewed in a Slovakia which looks more toward the future?  As opposed to a Hungary which is obsessed with its past. Strangely enough, there is a magnificent reminder that all has not been lost. Quite literally a crowning achievement tops St. Martin’s. Atop the church’s Gothic steeple is a gold plated replica of the Holy Crown of Hungary. At 85 meters (279 feet) it soars above the Old Town, just as it did when it was first placed there in 1847. It was meant to commemorate the church’s historic role in royal coronations. The crown is still there today, resting on a gold pillow, a spectacular reminder that no matter what nation rules over this land today, it is still history which reigns supreme.