Geza Katona, Inter viewed by Zsolt Csalog

A Major Oversight on Our Part

 

...

But I had yet another duty, too. At that point, there were only two of us in the Budapest Legation who, as Americans of Hungarian extraction, actually spoke Hungarian more or less fluently. The other one was Antal Nyerges, the press information officer, who also represented the Voice of America and was fairly busy; so that was how the reception of 'visitors' also came to be one of my duties. It was a pretty mixed bunch of people. Many came in just to pour their hearts out, believing that within the American Legation they were on free soil and could speak safely. The sad fact was, though, that we were crawling with spies and informers. Then, there were people who, out of their own eagerness, had brought some tiny piece of information, a bit of news or a rumour that they wanted to pass on to the West. Then again, there were a great many self-styled inventors who came along with the widest range of inventions that they were unable to commercialize in Hungary... And also, it goes without saying, a heap of ÁVO - State Security - people sent in to spy and stir up trouble. It took a bit of practice before I was able to tell them apart from the well-intentioned visitors. And then, as you would expect, were the many, many persecuted individuals. They told their dreadful stories; we heard them out patiently, but we couldn't help them, how could we have helped them? It was also supposed to be part of my work to try and familiarize myself with life outside the Legation, in the city and the provinces, except there was very little opportunity to do that. It was mainly a matter of organising outdoor picnics in the hope that one would manage to meet people. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. We were also fairly restricted. There were areas that we could not go to at all, like Miskolc, an industrial city, or for a longish spell, even the Balaton region. I remember once going with the military attaché on a car trip to the east of the country and coming to a hill just outside Eger that was full of wine cellars. We stopped in front of one of the cellars where there was a cluster of people and asked if we might taste their wine, because we were thinking of buying some. The moment they saw the car they were highly suspicious; indeed, they asked us which town we were from, what department. "Oh yes? The American Legation. You're Americans?" - and the atmosphere changed immediately. "Huh! We thought you must be Party members!"
Proffered drinks and hospitality, of course, were immediately forthcoming, as well as introductions, with everybody talking all at once.
"The next time, don't come by car, but aeroplane!"
In the spring of '55, there was heavy flooding, and the American government sent food aid, which meant us going around to quite a few villages along the Danube distributing parcels to the needy. I acted as interpreter to the minister, but whenever I could, I preferred to stand a little to the side and pay attention to what people were talking about among themselves. There were times when they would call me to one side and whisper to me:
"Tell me, how long can this go on?"
"How long can this go on?" everyone was asking - that was the question on people's lips in Hungary at that time. Even if I couldn't give an answer, those chance encounters were useful in making me understand that the Communist regime was not stable, because people were very discontented; the Hungarians felt very disgruntled, and everyone was waiting for help from us, from America.
I should add that, every now and then, we would relay these experiences and impressions to Washington. We submitted weekly reports to the State Department, and in these we would not only mention unusual events, but also provide a general picture of how we viewed the situation in Hungary.
I have always had a dog, and I had dogs in Budapest, too; when it comes down to it, it was my dogs who helped me escape our isolation. In '55, I got to know an elderly gentleman who bred Hungarian Vizsla pointers, and through him I was able to go to many places and meet quite a lot of Hungarians. He took me shooting with him, and this gave us chances for much talking at leisure. I never asked anyone straight out what they thought of the regime, but in '55 and '56, people let out what was on their minds. By then everyone was taking politics and complaining, openly airing opinions and furiously cursing the regime. Once they learned I was American, there was no stopping them!
I also had my dogs to thank for the opportunity they gave to move around in Pest as well. I used to take them for walks in the City Park. Now, Budapesters like good-looking dogs, and many would approach me on that account. We would get to chatting. People were bolder in the open air, and in the City Park there was little reason to be fearful of being overheard. That was despite the fact that I was often tailed - at times for two or three weeks at a time, after which there would be a short pause, then another week - that was how it went. Usually, however, I was aware of them, because they were rather glaringly obvious in the way they went about it. At that time, there was not much automobile traffic in Budapest, so we were already quite familiar with the license plates and would announce any new ones to one another.
"Hey!" I'd say to Nyerges, "I was followed today by CD 611. Make a note of it. I think it's a State Security car!" We'd pass on tips like that, and it wasn't hard to keep ten or fifteen registration numbers in your head.

I recall that in the autumn of '56 - it must have been around early October - my Vizsla fellow took me to a vintage celebration somewhere near Székesfehérvár. The peasants were in high spirits, perhaps loosened up by drink or by the music, because they had three Gypsies with them who were playing the good old Hungarian tunes in among the vine props. One of them became so wrapped up in the atmosphere that he struck up the tune "I'm a soldier of Miklós Horthy's." At this, he pulled off his shirt and showed that tattooed onto his skin was the Hungarian crown: the crown of St Stephen. And he kept on until the peasants started to sing in chorus, "Long live Hungary!" and then, "Long live the Hungary of old!"
I had not heard that before, nor did I after that; it was something you could hardly get away with in Budapest, and I don't think that during the Revolution that's what the freedom fighters wanted to see - of all things the Hungary of old restored. But out in the country, that was one of the sentiments that also existed - or at least, so I heard at that vintage celebration. What was particularly interesting for me, though, was that I was now convinced that something had irresistibly got under way, something now had to happen.

We dispatched regular reports about these things to Washington. What I don't know, however, is who there read them and to what extent they reflected upon what we sent.
I recall that in August '56, I was sent from Budapest to attend a conference in Munich that was organized by Voice of America and Radio Free Europe. Under discussion were specifically the topics of what the situation in Eastern Europe was really like, what the prospects were and what people should be prepared for. Most of those who spoke could see and sense that the situation was in flux; something was changing, nevertheless they didn't ascribe too much significance to the shifts. I couldn't understand this sluggish reaction, so I, too, offered some remarks - in a modest sort of way, of course, as befitted my low-ranking status, but still trying to get them to understand that in Hungary something serious and important was in the air, that one could definitely sense that a process had been set in motion and... "Ah! Nonsense. That's just your personal impression. You're exaggerating!" - that was the response.
"Well, fair enough, maybe you see things more clearly..."
As it happens, the legation in Budapest itself was not ready for anything of a more serious nature. We were in the strange position that, strictly speaking, we did not even have a minister! Unfortunately, even these quite discernible portents had sounded no alarm bells in America. Nothing was stirring in Washington. Prior to this, the minister to Budapest had been Chris Ravndal. He was very fond of the Hungarians and took a strong line with the Communist government, being well-informed and having the necessary knowledge of the country; but then, his tour of duty ended in August '56. Ravndal had been a decisive, vigorous, gutsy fellow, and his word was listened to in Washington. If he had still been minister to Budapest in October '56, I'm sure the American government would have reacted quite differently to the Hungarian Revolution.
Ravndal left in August, and a new minister had not come to replace him, only a chargé d'affaires, Barnes, who did not have any appreciable rank, weight or actual powers, and for that reason, he was exceedingly cautious, weak and soft. He did not take any action when the situation would have demanded it, or when we would have regarded it as proper; Barnes held back and waited. Another person who went at the same time as Ravndal was Ernő Nagy, who had also been important in view of his knowledge of the Hungarian language.
On 21 October, a Sunday, the weather was fine and warm, almost springlike, and I went out with my wife for a stroll. We walked along Andrássy Avenue.
Budapesters were drinking cups of coffee on the terraces of the cafés around the Opera House, but somehow one could almost sense the electricity in the air.  Whether it was the way people were speaking just a fraction louder than normal, or that their expressions showed their nervousness, I don't know, it wasn't from any tangible signs that I drew that conclusion. It was merely an overall feeling. On Monday, my wife and I went to Vienna, but only to take care of the most urgent matters before going back, since I felt uneasy.
"Hurry, hurry, because I've got a feeling something's going to happen in Pest. Something's going to happen in Pest!"
I had to stop by one of the sections of our Embassy where a colleague I knew asked how things were going in Budapest.
"Something's going on now," I told him, "I can hardly wait to get back, because I have a feeling something's brewing!"
"OK, I won't hold you up. I can see you're on edge. Just go!"
We managed to set off back fairly early on Tuesday, which was 23 October.

...

In short, Western weapons played no part in the Revolution, because they didn't exist in Hungary, and none were brought into Hungary. As to whether it was right not to bring in any guns - that's another question. Russian guns and Russian soldiers positively poured over the eastern border, so why would it have been so unimaginable, or such a terrible crime, for us to help out the better of the parties, at least with weapons? In Germany, there were abundant stocks of American weapons that could have been brought over, but they brought nothing over. I even know of an arsenal in West Germany in which were stockpiled weapons of Russian manufacture that had been captured during the Korean War, so if we had wanted to keep it quiet, we could have brought in some of those. No one would have caught on to the fact that they had come from the West. However, even that came to nothing. There was also a corps of Hungarian volunteers in West Germany, not an insignificant force and fully armed. They were only waiting for the authorization to set off for Hungary - an authorization that was never given. Sure, to bring in weapons or military forces, or even to allow Hungarian units to enter Hungary - that was a pretty serious political issue that could only have been decided with a due sense of responsibility. Nor am I well aware enough what is at issue to be able to express an opinion. It may well be it was right, under the circumstances, that we should not have resorted to military assistance. Only I have a feeling that the reason we did not give military assistance to the Hungarian Revolution was not because America's leaders decided that it was wrong, but because they didn't come to any sort of decision. In other words, Washington did not even seriously entertain this obvious possibility - at least, I have no information suggesting that this was considered at all. I'm not criticizing the fact that they didn't bring any weapons or American forces into Hungary, but I do think it was an error that this was not even raised as a possibility in Washington.
They sat idly by as Hungarian blood was being shed, calmly looked on as superior Russian forces trampled the glorious revolution underfoot. The eight marines who did duty in the Legation couldn't wear their uniform, but that didn't stop them from going out into town in their civvies. There was no holding them back! They went off to the Kilián Barracks, even had themselves photographed with the freedom fighters, and they practically begged to be allowed to go off in uniform to help the Hungarians. "The Russians only need to give us Marines one look, and they'll be taking to their heels!" This spontaneous fervour obviously did not have much grounding in reality, but it was characteristic of the spirit of our military personnel. 
And it is true that the Russians were scared. Their morale was not too high; all the signs showed that they had little appetite for a fight - not even against the Hungarians, let alone Americans! If they had encountered even a tiny, symbolic American force on the side of the Hungarian Revolution, I don't think they would have dared accept battle against it. It would have been easy to reverse the course of events. But then... It would have been possible to help in other ways, at least through diplomatic channels. If the significance of the Hungarian Revolution, and the opportunities that it offered, had been assessed seriously and without delay in Washington, there is a lot that could have been done. At the very least, the United States could have immediately made contact with the Imre Nagy government - that alone would have meant a great deal in the international arena, and it would have seriously deterred the Russians from armed intervention. If a high-ranking representative of the American government had been dispatched to Budapest straight away, in late October, the situation would have looked very different. That aside, there was the possibility of acting through the United Nations. If a UN delegation had been put together as soon as news first came in about the events, and had been sent in to put together an internationally monitored ceasefire, it would have been possible to stabilize the situation, to hold events at the point when the Revolution was victorious. However, none of these things happened.
"What would have happened if..." - that's just daydreaming, isn't it, fruitless speculation. And it's easy to be clever in hindsight...
Two factors played a tragically grave role here. First, those of us who were in the Legation in Budapest were totally caught up with events in Hungary; that's all we were paying any attention to, but Washington wasn't, because the hoopla around the Suez crisis was going on at precisely that time. On top of that, a presidential election was on. America was paying far more attention to that than to Budapest. Second, America did not trust Imre Nagy. From Washington's point of view, Nagy was simply a Communist, and they didn't notice that this was no longer the point; it wasn't about that. For Washington, it appeared uncertain how long Nagy would manage to stay in power in the wake of the Revolution, and even if on the surface he did stay, the direction in which he would take the new Hungary appeared unclear. It appeared questionable to what degree the revolutionary government enjoyed the population's trust and to what extent the Hungarian people approved of and wanted this political line - in other words, to what extent the uprising could be a basis for a stable future. After the event, of course, one can only say that these uncertainties all sprang from failures of assessment, for on November 4th unambiguous answers were given to all these questions. Events retrospectively endorsed Imre Nagy, but by then it was too late.
I think that if we had been given a little more time, just another week, and Nagy had carried on along the chosen path - and I'm quite sure he would have - then, we would have had better grounds to trust him and most likely would have done so. The Russians, though, were careful not to allow any time for that to happen. Or if we had known that Nagy had sent a telegram to the UN asking for assistance - the telegram somehow went astray in New York, or was stolen, there's no knowing what; it only came to light much later - but if we had known about the telegram, then we would have had an opportunity to declare our support immediately...
If, if, if...
The instructions we had from Washington were to maintain a distance from the Nagy government and wait - wait to see what course things took. Most definitely, Washington was not advising us, for the time being, to make any gesture that would have amounted to, or signalled, recognition of the Nagy government; but we should be open and, if the occasion arose, friendly, so as not to close the door too firmly. I have to say that Washington's instructions were not entirely explicit, not exactly precise. The usual response that was given to any question we raised was "What do you think?" We would then attempt to steer by this and kept on writing our reports, which wouldn't always reach Washington on time... One thing is for sure: no direct contact was made between the Legation and the Nagy government. I can state that with complete certainty, because if such a contact had been made, then either Nyerges would have interpreted, or more likely me, because there was no one else in the mission who spoke Hungarian. There was not so much as a telephone conversation between the Minister and Imre Nagy. I know that quite definitely, and I also know nothing about any serious request that might have been addressed to us from Nagy by letter. What little contact there was went via the Hungarian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. There were a few exchanges of insignificant notes with the Ministry, but these were only on routine topics and did not amount to anything on which more substantial relations could have been based. The passivity was on both sides: just as we didn't seek to make contact with the Imre Nagy government, neither did they approach us.
It is conceivable that attempts to do this were made on their part, but if that was the case, then the initiative could only have come laboriously and tentatively through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs - and got blocked there. It stands to reason that an act of rapprochement like that would have had to pass through several pairs of hands within the Foreign Ministry, and I suspect that even in late October there would have been a number of covert old-style Communists who had the opportunity to purloin a letter of that nature, to throw a wrench in the works. It's not that I know anything definite. There were more than a few Hungarians who dropped in on us, not just with information, but with the aim of giving us advice of a political nature, pleading for us to take action, to intervene somehow; however, these were all private individuals and not one of them represented the Nagy government in any official capacity. István Bibó4, then a secretary of state, visited on one occasion, but that too was only on November 4th, when in reality he alone represented the Hungarian government, all the others being at the Yugoslav Embassy, incapable of action - in other words, when for all practical purposes the Nagy government no longer existed. I suspect that there was at least as much confusion and muddle in Parliament during those days as there was at the Legation. During the first few days of November we actually did not even know where Imre Nagy was - or at least, we didn't know officially. He was in the Parliament building, of course, but even that could only be picked up by word of mouth. We could have found him if we had wished, but we didn't want to. Washington did not want that.
I should add that the missions of the other Western countries were nothing like as cautious, stiff and aloof as we were. Both during the fighting and afterwards, still in November, we were in fairly close contact with the other Western missions - the British, French, Italians, Egyptians, Turks - frequently telephoning one another, exchanging intelligence, comparing appraisals of the situation. I recall clearly that the British, for instance, were far more unequivocal in their support for Imre Nagy than we were. Or the Indians; they were extremely active, and even after November 4th they were very eager to give some sort of diplomatic support to the Hungarian Revolution. The Indian ambassador even came to pay a call on Wailes. I remember because I took a photograph of them - but that's of no matter, it had no significance. It seems that even the more positive attitude shown by the others had no influence on the American line and was unable to allay Washington's suspicion and passivity.
After November 4th we were also in contact with the Yugoslav Embassy. I was acquainted with a few of the Hungarian speakers who worked there, and I called them up; our minister, too, spoke with the Yugoslav ambassador by phone. We wished to be assured that at least the accommodation, meals and personal safety of those members of the Hungarian government who had taken refuge there were being taken care of. I can't remember that any other subject was raised - a diplomatic action plan or anything of that kind. We did not offer that we might, perhaps, take over responsibility for the Hungarian politicians who had sought refuge there. It's quite certain that no such notion was broached. Nevertheless, the Yugoslavs were not all that communicative either - in response to our inquiries, we got polite, but succinct answers - that they had found a satisfactory way of accommodating the Hungarians, their meals were being taken care of, there were no particular problems. The only thing they added was that they did not see any way of being able to alter their position for the time being, because the situation was fairly tense, what with the Russians keeping them under observation, their being surrounded...
So when, at the end of November, the Russians succeeded in tricking Nagy and his group out of the Yugoslav Embassy and spiriting them away, again no genuine action was taken on the part of America. But then, what could have been done, when they abducted a government that we didn't even recognize?

 

Zsolt Csalog (1935 - 1997)
writer, ethnographer, a prominent opposition figure under the Communist regime. He was a pioneer of reportage that dealt with the poor and the Roma in Hungary. Developing a sophisticated style of his own for oral history interviews, he also employed this approach in his fiction. The above interview was conducted in 1984.