Tibor Hajdu
Setting the Points
Rudolf L. Tőkés: Hungary's Negotiated Revolution.
Cambridge, Cambridge Univerity Press, 1996, 544 pp.
Those who keep up with the Hungarian news media would probably agree that Hungarians are able to better understand what is happening in Romania or in Afghanistan than the Romanians or the Afghans themselves. Yet, when it comes to what has been happening in Hungary in the past few years, we are not as well-informed: unforeseen events, public scandals, the difficulties of obtaining access to documents, passions running high and many other frustrating circumstances confuse analysis. The judgment of Western observers is more detached and more credible, despite, or because of, the fact that they are not troubled by the differences between Budapest and Bucharest (thought to be crucial by local observers).
The Cambridge University Press has managed to find the right author in the person of Rudolf L. Tőkés; a professor of political sciences at the University of Connecticut (who had interrupted his university studies in Hungary in 1956, in the same year that marks the chronological beginning of his book). He is a scholar who has never relinquished a special interest in Hungarian affairs; well-versed in the international political science literature, he uses its terminology and sees his small country through the eyes of the world at large, never getting lost in the meandering paths of Hungary's history.
Having accessed a large amount of source material and conducted a great many interviews, he is able to say something new even to his Hungarian readers, presenting his material in a highly enjoyable format, in that popular border zone between historical report and textbook. The textbook character inevitably has brought with it some current methods and models from American political sciences, which, while failing to influence the essence of the author's conclusions, are hard to digest for readers brought up on different patterns: these include a thematic breakdown of the agenda of Politburo meetings (when Tőkés fully knows that the really important issues did not always feature on the agenda), or statistical information regarding the age distribution of members. It is clearly pertinent that Kádár was only 44 years old in 1956, meaning that he could quickly change his views, something he could not do at 75, still, the age distribution of the Politburo was quite irrelevant.
Original and important for both political scientists and the laymen is the second chapter, which sets off the contrast between the Hungarian political transition's chief driving forces: the opposition and the "reform elite" of the MSZMP (Hungarian Socialist Workers' Party) on the other side. Tőkés makes the point that by the 1980s every concept about the future, whether it was put forward by the "democratic" or the "popular/national" opposition, the Reform Communists or party functionaries and civil servants aware of the scale of problems, was concerned with the same thing: the avoidance of anarchy, of complete economic collapse and of bloody conflict. He subtly points out that everyone contemplating the possibilities of the transition in foreign policy, domestic politics and economics was intrigued by the same problem: the element of unpredictability of popular reaction during the changeover.
(I note here between brackets that quite a different attitude characterized the majority of the party elite, who lacked any political perspective and who were simply playing for time. The party bureaucracy was so confident about its ability to manipulate party members, the intelligentsia and society that only a few months be-
fore the final collapse they carried out a general exchange of membership cards with minimum losses and, a few years earlier, they had nationalized party property, something that would cause them considerable embarrassment in the year of the changeover.)
In this part of the book, the author concentrates not so much on the people, who only had a say in the first plebiscite, the so-called "four-yes" plebiscite, as well as in the first multiparty elections; nor on the huge party, state and parrallel bureaucracies, busily trying to preserve their positions for the period after the transition (and in general, successfully), but on the elite. The most important and most original part of the book examines the composition, attitudes, programmes and tactics of the political elite, both old and new. The author specially mentions the sociologists and economists of "double bonding", who worked in scholarly institutes, in the press, and in the ministries. They were fully aware of the general failure of the Kádár regime and were working to find a way out of it, without actually having political ambitions (despite being courted by various factions in the immediate future), trying to influence the events of the transition as independent experts.
These analysts wrote important studies and background material, rightfully building a reputation in the course of it. As they were unable to foresee the events, how-ever, they could not influence them. In the complex processes of the political transition, those who knew what was happening would not reveal the truth, while those who did not know could say whatever they wished. Tőkés singled out four people as the driving forces behind the changes within the leadership of the MSZMP, making sure to interview them and to concentrate on their roles (Károly Grósz, Imre Pozsgay, János Berecz, Miklós Németh). Under the weight of the material thus compiled, he ignored what he himself must have recognized, namely that Berecz had been a helpless puppet on the stage of history, that Grósz had probably failed to appreciate the true scale of the changes, along with the limitations of the power he strove so hard for and which evaporated so rapidly, that Pozsgay had been more an instrument in the hands of the driving forces in the transition than a driving force -something Pozsgay has refused to admit to this day. Of these four, perhaps Németh alone knew what he was doing, being one of the new economic elite whose members were aware that it was the framework of the existing socialism itself, rather than just Kádár and his regime, that had proven unsustainable, and rightly concluding that the system could not be reformed but must be removed if there was to be any progress.
Several of the book's Hungarian critics made the point that in this way Tőkés put undue emphasis on the "Reform Communists" at the expense of the regime's anti-Communist opposition and their leaders, who played an equally important role in the political transition. It is unlikely that Tőkés was led by personal sympathies in this particular choice: the political personalities of József Antall or Viktor Orbán probably appealed to him more than did Grósz's or Berecz's; nevertheless, since he had source material on the latter, he examined the events from this aspect. (It is the personal opinion of the reviewer that the acrimonious debate about the relative merits of Hungarian politicians in the political transition is of secondary importance: as has so often been the case in the course of history, the country's fate was decided not in Budapest but in Malta or places even further away. Lately it has even been claimed that the political transition truly began in 1990, the year when the first multiparty elections were held and the Russian army left, regardless of what had happened in 1989. This is a view that Tőkés's book does not bear out.)
Tőkés finds proof of Pozsgay's leadership qualities to win supporters in the fact that he was able to extend his personal influence to include such key figures in the party apparatus as Gyula Horn and Mátyás Szűrös (p. 319) The truth is that those in charge of the Central Commit-tee's Foreign Department-Szűrös, Horn, Szokai, Kovács, Tabajdi and others had all found out what the score was before Pozsgay did, but were too cautious to try to race ahead. They also knew how little Hungary counted on the card table of the great powers; as long as we were a card in Gorbachev's hand, we had to stay put, but as soon as he laid out the Hungarian card, we would have to go over to the West as quickly as we could. If Pozsgay had foreseen this, he would have had to start taking English lessons instead of trying to get the backing of the Soviet reform wing (Yakovlev). Through his much-publicized statement about 1956 being a "popular uprising", made in late January 1989 (the true story of which still has to be told), he may have become the hero for a day or two, but he alienated the majority of the MSZMP without winning the active support of the 1956 groups. Iván T. Berend, President of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences and as such, a leading figure among the Reform Communists, himself helped to devise the new historical concept for the Central Committee's subcommittee headed by Pozsgay, which contained the formula of 1956 being a "popular uprising"; tactfully, he makes no mention in his recently published memoirs of how Pozsgay had boosted his personal involvement in this. In view of the fact that Berend currently teaches in California, Tőkés would have made the effort to visit him in Los Angeles to find out how much of the Pozsgay story had to be taken seriously. Pozsgay's best bet would have been to join the MDF (the Hungarian Democratic Forum) in 1989, if not by quitting the Party then perhaps by letting the infuriated Central Control Committee expel him, as they did the political scientist László Lengyel and his friends a year earlier. Grósz and his circle still needed Pozsgay (and Rezső Nyers) for a little longer. In late 1990, at the MSZP conference at Siófok, Pozsgay's departure failed to produce the dramatic impact he had hoped for.
Having made this one reservation, we should give credit to Tőkés for his able characterization of the protagonists, whose personalities and ideas he has studied, understood and illustrated with numerous concrete examples taken from the large documentation he had compiled. The four "parallel biographies" shed light on many problems and circumvent the familiar mistake of individual biographies, namely the overestimation of their subject. Without trying to decide which one of the four was the "real McCoy", Tőkés undertakes a study of why and when, at the given stage of the drama, this or that politician was able to get the upper hand over the others. Although he makes it clear that Pozsgay is more acceptable to him than Grósz, he also documents that, much like Berecz and Grósz, Pozsgay, too, belonged to that steadily rising "young" generation within Kádár's party apparatus, the generation which started their careers after 1956; and if we see Pozsgay as different from, or better than the average party official, then we should also see that he had to hold back rather than show off his skills if he wanted to stay close to the fire. It was hardly by coincidence that Kádár's choice fell on the less talented, less educated and less presentable Grósz. Beside being more agreeable to him personally, this choice also coincided with the will of the apparatus, then still a force to be reckoned with.
Around 1980 Pozsgay did, indeed, venture outside the usual crowd party apparatchiks moved in, making new friends who came to exert an influence on him, but as he was gaining sympathy amongst the opposition and the intelligentsia, so his chances to become the boss of the apparatus withered to the extent that the only chance for him was to be forced on them by Gorbachev or Kádár, an eventuality that never materialized. Berecz made far too obvious moves as a pretender, which made him anathema in the eyes of many, and when it turned out that a consensus had to be reached with the opposition and the Western observers, his infamous book on 1956, Ellenforradalom tollal és fegyverrel (Counter-Revolution with Pen and Weapon) made him a wholly unacceptable candidate.
In his thought-provoking article "A kádári
párt bukása. Az utódlási harc" (The Demise of the Kádár Faction. The Struggle for Succession, Rubicon 1998/1), the political scientist László Lengyel polemicizes with Tőkés's book. He describes Grósz, not underestimated by the former author either, as the politician who masterminded the putsch against Kádár; a determined and dynamic revitalizer and rationalizer, the 58-year-old leader of the "Young Turks". I do not wish to underestimate Grósz's qualities and courage in the White House (the ironic name given to the white building of the Communist Headquarters in Budapest) increasingly running low on confidence: one needed courage to stab the dying Kádár in the back, but I think what really settled the issue was the fact that he was both Rizhkov's and Kádár's choice. The party apparatus had wanted to get rid of Kádár ever since 1972: the conservatives for his lenience, the progressives for his inflexibility. When the opportunity finally came, they opted for Grósz, who did, indeed, carry through changes that should have been introduced ten or fifteen years earlier; however, after the initial successes he flinched back from what Tőkés calls a "negotiated revolution", others call political transition, still others treason, while I myself simple regard it as "a change for the better" (changing from the Warsaw Pact to NATO). The big question is whether Grósz would have started out on this road, had he known how soon he would fall. His manoeuvering skills were considerable, his plan and strategy negligible. And that also applied to his real successor, another apparatchik of roughly the same age, an even better tactician and better organizer, but perhaps also more unscrupulous, Gyula Horn, who has not been given the attention in Tökés's book that he deserves.
Obviously, a book that ranges so widely as this is open to different interpretations and criticisms. In a highly favourable review published in the April issue of the American Historical Review, the Hungarian-born Professor Andrew C. János of Berkeley University, California, wrote: "One of the great virtues of this volume is that it not only tells us a story in the vein of Leopold Ranke, ‘as it really happened', but it also advances a number of bold hypotheses likely to stimulate further historical debate."
In 1998 the book was finally published in Hungarian, too. (A kialkudott forradalom. Gazdasági reform, társadalmi átalakulás és politikai hatalomutódlás 1957– 1990. Negotiated Revolution. Economical Reform, Social Changes and Succession to Political Power, Kossuth Kiadó, 1998) Despite the shortages of space and time, the Hungarian publication includes interesting new elements. Of these, I would like to call attention to one or two in the interview with Miklós Németh, who currently appears to plan a return to the Hungarian political arena.
Németh revealed that not only was he left out of the foreign policy legal, administrative and political "emergency committee" formed under the direction of Károly Grósz in December 1988, he was not even informed about possible planned moves against the opposition forces. In total indignation he rejected Grósz's insinuation whereby if he had been there, he would have immediately passed on any information to US Ambassador Palmer when playing tennis with him. Minister of Defense Kárpáti was the only one who felt obliged to notify his prime minister about the secret military and state security preparation.
In the first week following Németh's appointment as prime minister, Grósz took him into the strong room in the basement of the Ministry of Defense, and asked
him to sign the secret protocol about the stationing of Soviet nuclear weapons in Hungary. Once he recovered from his initial fright, he asked Kárpáti where these weapons were deployed, to which the minister replied that although he had not been informed, the chief of Hungarian military intelligence was betting on the Bakony Hills. After this, Németh "regarded his first and foremost task to be the removal of Soviet nuclear weapons from Hungarian territory. The first opportunity in this regard was provided during his negotiations with his Soviet counterpart, Prime Minister Rizhkov, in late March 1989. Although Rizhkov did not regard himself competent in the matter, he promised to raise the issue with Gorbachev. The Hungarian Prime Minister was able to discuss the matter with Gorbachev on the very same day. He accepted Németh's demand, committing himself to the removal of the said weaponry from Hungarian territory. Five months later-Németh seems to recall the second or third week of September 1989-the Soviet Ambassador to Budapest handed over Rizhkov's letter, in which the Hungarian government was officially notified of the successful completion of Gorbachev's promise" (op. cit. pp. 304-305).
Hopefully, Tőkés's valuable work will have further editions in English and so English-speaking readers, too, will be able to read the interview with Németh, along with other results of the author's research. In the past year he has been in Budapest and among the materials he was able to study were the fascinating minutes of the National Round Table talks, which have only recently been declassified.
Who Is Who
On April 25th 1987. Károly Grósz, the Budapest party secretary, was appointed prime minister. At the same time, Miklós Németh, a young economist on the staff of the Planning Office, became secretary to the Central Committee responsible for the economy.
It was at the May 1988 Party Congress that Grósz really got what he wanted. He replaced Kádár, who was henceforth powerless as general secretary. His chief rivals, János Berecz, the secretary to the Central Committee responsible for ideology and László Maróthy, the minister for the environment, lost much of their power. The leading reformer, Imre Pozsgay, head of the Patriotic People's Front, was unacceptable to Moscow, hence he supported Grósz, who was ready to cooperate.
Between May and November 1988, Grósz combined the offices of general secretary and prime minister. In November 1988, he resigned as prime minister, and was replaced by Miklós Németh.
Gyula Horn was of the same generation as Grósz, Berecz and Pozsgay, and like them, was an old apparatchik who started to climb upwards on the career ladder after 1956 to become secretary of state at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs 1985–89 and minister for foreign affairs 1989/90.
On June 16th Imre Nagy was reburied. This was the symbolic start of the change of system.
Kádár died on July 6th, 1989.
At the September 1989 Party Congress Grósz was replaced by Rezső Nyers, a Social democrat in his youth, later an economic reformer. Berecz, Grósz and Maróthy did not join the reconstituted party, renamed the MSzP (Hungarian Socialist Party). The Németh government then shook off party control.
Tibor Hajdu's
books include A magyarországi Tanácsköztársaság (The Hungarian Soviet Republic, 1969) and a biography of Count Mihály Károlyi.