Night At The Opera – A Transylvanian Tale In Cluj (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #69)

I am besieged by books at home. I always keep several volumes within easy reach. As I have gotten older, my library has grown to alarming size. I have long since realized that there is no way I will read every one of the books I own. From time to time, I cull the volumes hoping that I can make reading them more manageable. This only lasts as long as the next library book sale. After which, I return home with another armful of books.  These get stacked atop all the other books already piled on the shelf. The hundreds of thousands of pages still to be read are a daunting task, but I also see them as an opportunity.

My strategy is not to read each book I own from cover to cover. Instead, most of my library is filled with books I use for research. Some of this involves the obvious such as tracking down information about specific places of interest or double checking to make sure certain details are correct. This is essential for research and writing, but the real reason I own so many books is because I love searching for anecdotes and stories. There is nothing I love more than absurd, obscure, and unbelievable stories that showcase people and places in a strange but true manner.  When I open a book, my journey starts with either the table of contents or index, looking for any subject heading that might stimulate my interest. I found one of my all-time favorites in Richard Basset’s “A Guide To Central Europe.” 

        Primary source – Transylvania by Richard Bassett

Buy The Book – A Well-Respected Recommendation
The first time I saw Bassett’s guide was in Budapest on a table in the apartment of Michael O’Sullivan, the erudite and well-respected author. O’Sullivan has an incredible knowledge of Central and Eastern Europe which he conveys with elegance in conversation. He has lived and traveled in the region for many decades. When I met him, it was only a few months after the publication of “Patrick Leigh Fermor: Noble Encounters Between Budapest and Transylvania”, his work of history/travel that follows in the footsteps of Fermor’s legendary journey across Hungary and Romania on foot in 1934. That journey is the subject of Fermor’s marvelous “Between The Woods and The Water” which offers a fascinating account of the Hungarian aristocracy’s fading world just before it was extinguished by the Second World War.

When I picked up Basset’s book, O’Sullivan asked me, “Have you read it?” After I replied no, he said, “It is excellent.” That was enough of a recommendation for me.  O’Sullivan knew Bassett well. Both had been foreign correspondents in Vienna. They knew the region long before the Iron Curtain fell. I asked O’Sullivan if I could take a photo of the book. He politely agreed to my request. The photo would allow me to remember the book so I could order a copy for myself. Before I flew back home, I had already ordered the book so it would be waiting for me upon arrival.

      A look back – A Guide To Central Europe by Richard Bassett

Primary Sources – Old World Journalism
Like so many books I buy based on intuition, I spent a few minutes perusing “A Guide To Central Europe”, then placed it on a shelf facing my favorite chair. That way I would notice it at some later date. Only then would I really begin to delve into the book more deeply. I found several things I liked from a quick scan of the text. Basset’s book was not a typical travel guide. Instead, he wrote in a narrative style about various regions in Central and Eastern Europe. As a reader, I felt like I was right there beside him throughout his travels. Since Bassett was a journalist, his writing was easy to read and highly accessible. He knew how to relate details in an intriguing manner with a gift for enlightening and colorful anecdotes. This was old world journalism at its finest. My first impressions would be lasting ones.

When I finally plucked the book from my shelf, the chapter that most interested me was the one on Transylvania. The book had been published in 1985. That meant Bassett had visited the region during the worst years of the Ceausescu regime. This was a rarity. Snooping foreign journalists were viewed with feverish disdain in Cold War era Romania. Travelers from west of the Iron Curtain were not welcomed. Those who did make it into the country were under the ever-watchful gaze of the Securitate, the Romanian secret police that spied on anything that moved. Bassett managed to visit Transylvania with the eyes of a tourist despite the restrictive nature of travel. His observations in the guide are a valuable primary source historical document. They can also be unintentionally hilarious, particularly in one absurd case.

          Gray days – Cluj in 1989 (Credit: Fortepan.hu)

Theater of the Absurd – Machine Guns & Elegant Ladies
Ceausescu-era Cluj was not the prosperous, cosmopolitan city that is Transylvania’s commercial capital of today. In the mid-1980’s, Cluj was marked by hints of former grandeur and tight-lipped people.  The world Bassett stepped into was in the iron grip of authoritarianism. This pervaded every aspect of life. Arts and culture were particularly susceptible to the regime’s trends and whims as Basset relates on a visit to the Opera. The façade of the building – “a delightful Helmer and Fellner essay in Neo-Baroque, has recently been restored” – gives no hint to Bassett of the performance he will witness inside. Basett notes with characteristic understatement that “Occasionally the operas are political in theme.” He then provides an unforgettable example. “I remember one extraordinary work, the magnum opus of some Romanian revolutionary leader, resounding to the sound of machine guns and partisan massacres. The Romanian audience, which numbered less than a dozen and were easily outnumbered by the combined forces of cast and orchestra, were a colorful lot with several elegant ladies wearing hats in their boxes, adopting stiff poses redolent of an Olivia Manning novel.”

Reading that, I did not know what was better, the machine guns or the elegant ladies. The former was full of ridiculous revolutionary ferocity, the latter an astonishing example of old-world charm gone mad in the face of modernity. The partisan massacres must have been good fun for the white glove set. The empty seats show that even in a tightly controlled society everyone knew the regime staged farces to further destroy their meager creditability. Basset’s description was priceless, though I doubt he paid more than a few lei for his night at the opera, and the opportunity to witness one of the more absurd moments in a regime full of them. Bassett’s “A Guide To Central Europe” is a trove of travel anecdotes. I look forward to many more evenings traveling with him.

Click here for: Another Side of Sibiu – The Many Faces of Transylvania (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #70)

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.