Begegnungen22_Eddie
Begegnungen
Schriftenreihe des Europa Institutes Budapest, Band 22:123–136.
SCOTT M. EDDIE
What Size and Kind of Agricultural Units?
Reflections on the Study of Prussian Landownership Before the Great War
Introduction
Why are scholars interested in the size of agricultural units? Generally, for two reasons: Their studies arise either from a concern about the distribution of income and/or wealth (and the social or political power that may arise therefrom), or because they wish to investigate production or the efficiency of production. The first reason can be classified as socially-oriented, while the second focuses on more technical issues, and of course the two can overlap: How income is produced and who gets it are obviously a combination that includes both social and technical considerations.
While even the great pioneer of study of the distribution of landed wealth in Prussia, Johannes Conrad, began his series of studies “Agrarian-Statistical Investigations”1 with four technical agronomic articles, his primary concern was with who owned the land. Thus the rest of the articles in the series dealt only with that issue. The popular perception of the Junker landlord dominating Prussia – especially its eastern provinces – led Conrad, and leads us, to concentrate on who owned the land.
The purpose of this essay is to demonstrate that, in studies of the ownership of landed wealth, the choice of what data to use and analyze is critically important to the outcome of those studies. In particular, conclusions about how concentrated (or how unequal) the distribution of land ownership was depend far more on the choice of which data to analyze than on the method used to analyze those data. Using inappropriate – but readily available, easy to use, and therefore tempting – data can introduce errors of serious magnitude. Therefore we consider, in what follows, three fundamental questions:
1. Which of several possible concepts of the unit of analysis is appropriate to the given research question(s)?
2. In what units should that concept be measured?
3. How close do available statistics come to satisfying the criteria established by the first two questions?
Because we are concerned with studies of Prussian land ownership, we will confine our attention to the concepts used in that literature, in each case providing the German term for the translations here used.
Several potential concepts offer themselves for our consideration for use in the analysis of land ownership:
1. The farm, or operating unit of agriculture (Betrieb).
2. The actual legal unit of land holding, the property (Besitz, or – but only for larger properties – Gut).
3. The manor (Herrschaft), usually made up of several properties.
4. The total amount of land owned by a single owner (Gesamteigentum).
In the discussion which follows we will examine the available data for the period from the establishment of the Prussian land tax cadastre in the early 1860s until the First World War, and consider how these have, or could be, used to delineate the structure of land ownership. In the process, we will also consider the general and situational appropriateness of the four concepts listed, and how well the available data fit these concepts.
Available data
That we have to worry about these questions at all is the result of a fundamental lacuna in the Prussian (and German) statistics of the time: Although there were many calls for such data, the government never compiled any statistics of land ownership. In a sense this is surprising, since – as one scholar observed – everything technically needed had been in place for decades, so there were no important hindrances.2 But, since such statistics were never collected, scholars interested in land ownership must direct their attention elsewhere.
For Prussia during the period of our concern, there are four sources of comprehensive data that deal with the size of agricultural units3:
1. The censuses of German agriculture taken in 1882, 1895, and 19074;
2. The reports on private land ownership in Prussia based on the building tax revisions in the years 1878 and 18935;
3. The report of distribution of land6 based on a data from the income and “supplemental”7 tax returns concerning rural indebtedness in Prussia in 1902; and
4. Various directories of land ownership that describe large properties in several provinces.
The choice of which of these sources to use depends first and foremost on the questions to be asked, but also secondarily on the ease of accessibility and breadth of coverage of the statistics contained in these sources. I have listed the sources in decreasing order of their ease of use and breadth of coverage:
1. The censuses of agriculture contain all sorts of tables already calculated on the basis of size categories expressed in hectares of agricultural land and include all units that had any land devoted to agriculture, in three different years;
2. The reports on private landownership include some statistics on private landownership – which excluded properties of the State; provinces and lesser government units; communities, churches, and schools; railways; charitable organizations; and economic cooperatives8 – arranged according to size categories for two years;
3. The debt-based statistics show the number of owners, the total number of hectares they owned, and the total amount of land tax net yield for various size categories of that net yield (60-90 Marks, 90-150 Marks, ..., 3000 Marks and up) for the year 1902.
4. The directories of large landed properties typically cover all properties of 100 or more hectares (some later dropped the lower limit to 50 hectares) or having a land tax assessment of 1500 marks or more, for a particular year in a given province; these directories appeared in editions updated typically every 4–7 years,9 and show who owned each property as well as its makeup (how much ploughland, meadow, pasture, woodland, etc.), its tax assessment, whether it had any industrial or mining establishments located on its territory, or whether it specialized in some kind of arable agriculture or animal husbandry. The directories even gave some data on the administration and leasing of the property’s land as well as about its location, transport connections, and even phone numbers.
Therefore a scholar wishing to deal comprehensively with land holding or land use in Prussia faces two problems: Which sources to select as most appropriate for the issues he or she is concerned with, and among those, which does he or she have the resources to use? The more difficult it is to extract and analyze the data from the sources, the more time and money it takes to work them up. Hence scholars – especially in the past and especially before the advent of personal computers – often had to compromise: They had to use what they could afford to work up.
Johannes Conrad was nevertheless able, perhaps because he was the editor of the journal where he published his studies but more likely because the university where he taught put considerable resources at his disposal,10 to use the most difficult sources, the directories of land ownership, to find answers to questions that could not be effectively addressed using the data of the other sources. We will return to this point after a discussion of appropriate concepts.
Farm vs. Property
From the various German statistics, we are able to use different kinds of units of agricultural land, measured on different scales:
1. The agricultural censuses present data organized according on the basis of the farm (Betrieb), the operating unit of agriculture. One farm could be
a.) one part of a larger estate which is let to and/or operated by different farmers,
b.) congruent with a particular ownership unit (e.g., the proverbial family farm), or
c.) be made up of several properties owned by or leased from the same or different owners (e.g., the big tenant farms of England).
2. The statistics of private ownership categorize and summarize the units according to the amount of land tax net yield (Grundsteuerreinertrag), which was a measure of the amount of net income a given piece of land could be expected to yield in its given location under ordinary management and with local farm-gate prices.11 At the time of the original land tax assessment (even much later, as I have shown in an earlier study12), this net yield could therefore be expected to be a nearly perfect proxy for the market value of the land. There are also some tables of the number of properties (but not their area or tax value) falling into each size class according to total area of the property in hectares. The principal tables are cross-tabulations of the number of properties according to their size in hectares and their assessed total land tax net yield in Thaler13. These surveys counted properties by land tax district (typically the same as the riding [Kreis], but often smaller, sometimes larger), so an owner with land in more than one tax district would be counted more than once.
3. The debt-based statistics, on the other hand, classified ownership parcels according to their total land tax net yield in marks and their total area in hectares. This survey omitted all land holdings with less than 60 marks of land tax net yield, on the ground that 60 Marks represented the minimum economic size of farm that could provide its owner with a living without by-employment. The top category of “3000 Marks and more” does not permit much differentiation among larger land holdings, since in most provinces a property of 200 hectares could easily have this much land tax net yield or more. This survey counted each owner only once within the borders of the entire Kingdom of Prussia,14 so that it comes much closer to being a dataset of total ownership (by private individuals only), whereas the previous statistics of private ownership came much closer to being a dataset of properties, rather than owners. This difference stemmed from the fact that the 1902 survey based itself on the income and earnings tax returns, while the 1878 and 1893 surveys were based on the data of the land tax and the building tax.
4. The directories of large properties permit, but do not themselves present, the classification of land units according to size of holding (Besitz) or size of ownership by an given owner (Gesamteigentum). The measurement units which could be chosen, using these data, are total area in hectares, area of land devoted to agriculture (as in the censuses), or amount of land tax net yield (as in the surveys of private ownership). Thus the directories provide the most flexible source of data, but with two serious limitations: (1) They cover properties (and therefore NOT farms), and only if they exceed a certain minimum area, and (2) they contain no summary data. All results therefore depend on first transferring the raw data into a computer or other device in order to do any summaries, cross-tabulations, or similar calculations. Because each of these directories contains anywhere from about 2500 to over 7500 individual entries with information on several variables, their use has in most cases proved to be cost-prohibitive.
Further problems arise with the practical definition of terms. What determines what an operating unit (Betrieb) is? For example, the Bolko von Hochberg estate of Neuschloss in Silesia (6877 hectares in 1909) had a general agricultural administrator, a chief forester, and an administrator for ponds and water resources (each of whom had his own staff), but only one accountant. Is this one, two, or three economic units?15 Moreover, the same owner had another estate elsewhere in Silesia (Rohnstock: 2163 hectares), with no accountant listed for it. If the same accountant did the books there as well, were both estates together just one big economic unit?
What, for that matter, is a property? Is it the manor (Herrschaft) or the individually- named properties that make it up – and which could have been acquired at different times? If the manor was an entail (Fideikommiß) that could not be alienated in part but had to be passed on intact to the next heir when the current land holder died, does that make the definition of what is a property different from the case of a manor which was not an entail, and whose parts could be sold off, inherited, or given away piecemeal?
The least problematic concept is the concept of total ownership (Gesamteigentum). This is the concept which Conrad employed in his pathbreaking series. Whether each individual part of a manor is counted as a property, or whether the manor itself is considered to be a single property, when we add up all the properties owned by a single owner, it should come to the same total. The adding-up process is unaffected by the definition of what is a property. Here there are only marginal problems, save one: Does the current holder of an entailed estate (Fideikommiß) really “own” it? He or she (or in some rare cases, they) would have lifetime use of the land and its income, but the estate must be passed on intact to the designated heir.16 If no such designated heir exists, the terms of the entail usually provide that the land revert to the crown. Moreover, the actual legal owner of the land, as shown in the land registry, is the “foundation” that establishes the entail, not the current beneficiary of that foundation. I do not know of any case in which this fine distinction ever came into play: All studies which I have seen treat the beneficiary of an entail as a real owner in compiling their statistics.
Compared to the problem of entail, the other conceptual problems of total ownership are minor. Foremost among these is how to deal with joint ownership (husband and wife, siblings, parent and child, unrelated individuals in some sort of partnership, etc.) where one of the joint owners is also the single owner of one or more other properties. My own personal solution to this problem is to consider each group of two or more owners as a separate owner, which itself can lead to anomalies: If a husband and wife own property together, and each also owns property separately, then in my schema these two individuals constitute three separate owners. Assigning the rightful share to each joint owner to overcome this anomaly would be a task for which the cost would vastly exceed the benefit, at least among the Prussian data where joint owners are relatively rare. Moreover, how could one assign shares, and to whom, when the number and names of owners are unknown? How many people owned the estate of Granowo in the province of Posen in 1910, whose owners are simply listed as “the heirs of Prince Zdzislaus Czartoryski?” And who, exactly, were they?
Given all these difficulties, it is unsurprising that the first place many scholars turn, when they wish to examine the distribution of ownership of land, is to the very handy summary tables of the agricultural censuses. Without considering any of the definitional problems, many of them make the mistake of confusing “farm” (Betrieb, the operating unit) with “property” (Besitz, the ownership unit), or – what amounts to the same thing – assuming that the farm and the property are one and the same unit. They then use the data of the agricultural censuses as if they were data on properties.
In criticizing the approach of these scholars, it is important to re-emphasize that the German agricultural censuses explicitly counted farms, not properties, and indeed took care to point out that there was a difference between the two concepts. From the introduction to the 1882 census volume17 we can read that
One should never lose sight of [the following]: first, that areas of operation18 are treated here, not areas of ownership; second, that only the agricultural areas of operation, not the total area of the farms, come into the presentation...
Conrad did not make this mistake: He used the agricultural census of 1882 for background data regarding agriculture, but was careful never to mix any of these data on farms in with his data on properties.
Empirical issues
The distribution of agrarian land can therefore be considered from at least two fundamentally different standpoints:
1. If we are concerned with production, or the economic function of rural land, it makes sense to construct a distribution of land in farms (Betriebe), since the farm is the operating unit for production. Such a distribution might show, for example, that average farm size in North America has increased sharply in the last several decades, with a consequent loss of farm population and concomitant hard times for small towns whose main economic function had been to serve local agriculture.
2. If we are concerned with land as an asset, a component of wealth, then it makes sense to construct a distribution according to ownership19 of the asset. Such a distribution can take two basic forms:
a) A distribution by property (Besitz, or often Gut, in the case of larger properties); this is the legal unit of ownership, for which customarily a deed is issued, and this is the unit that can be most readily sold, mortgaged, exchanged, given or gambled away, etc.
b)A distribution of total ownership (Gesamteigentum) is appropriate when one’s concern is the wealth (or status or influence) that the ownership of land confers upon the owner, and the concentration of that wealth.
Problems arise when data do not exist in the form necessary to make whatever distribution one’s research goal requires. For example, we noted above that the distributions of ownership based on the data in address books of landed properties usually are truncated on the lower end, for these address books normally have a minimum size criterion for inclusion, typically 100 hectares. The researcher must then either be content to present a truncated distribution, or else make some rather heroic assumptions to use other data, such as those from agricultural censuses, to fill in the lower part of the distribution.
Problems also arise, again as noted above, when researchers fail to recognize the difference between a farm and a property, and mistakenly use the data from the German agricultural censuses as distributions of ownership.20 There is, however, no necessary identity between a farm and a property: One property may be let in parcels to several renters, each of whom operates a farm. In such a case one property comprises several farms, or parts of several farms. Or, alternatively, one farmer may rent land from several different owners, so that one farm comprises several properties or parts of properties. There is really no good excuse for confusing farms with properties, since the census data always show how many farms in a given size category had exclusively owned land, how many had a combination of owned and rented land, or how many operated with exclusively leased land. They do not show, however, whether the farms with exclusively leased land were leased from more than one owner; but clearly for any farm that consisted partially of owned land and partially of rented land, the farm and the property could not possibly be one and the same thing.21 As Klaus Hess correctly pointed out: “Because of the method of their collection, the agricultural operational statistics [NB: agricultural census (SME)] in no way convey the character of ownership statistics, contrary to the common opinion.”22
A particularly egregious case of the confusion of farm with property can be found in a recent study by Ilona Buchsteiner,23 who compounded the confusion by inventing a term, Gutsbetrieb (literally “property-farm” or “estate-farm”) which, as a general concept of ownership, is nonsense, for the reasons given in the previous paragraph. The Gut (large individual property) and the Betrieb (farm) can be one and the same thing, as in the case of the family farm which neither rents in nor rents out land, but the concept of Gutsbetrieb is worse than meaningless for any farm that is either part of a larger property, or which is made up of two or more smaller property units. In modern England and North America, for example, the large farming operation consisting of several or even many properties – some owned, some rented – has become the norm for agriculture in many regions. Even in the 19th century there already were large tenants (Grosspächter) whose farm operations comprised land from several different properties, often owned by different persons.
Germany never published a directory of farms based on her agricultural censuses. For an illustration of how dangerous it is to assume that farm = property we can, however, turn to data from that other quintessential land of large estates in Europe, Hungary,24 which did produce a directory of farm operators (Gazdacímtár) from her 1895 agricultural census.25 In the following table, I have extracted a single page from the county of Moson in western Hungary26 which shows the names of farm operators and the names of owners of the land that they farmed.
Table 1: Farms and owners in town of Szolnok, Moson county
Farm |
Name of farm operator |
Names of landowners |
110 |
Unger József |
Unger József, Ung Mihály, Zwickl András, Czellei János |
111 |
Unger Mária |
Unger Mária, Unger Mátyás, Czellei János etc. |
112 |
Unger Mátyás (House Nr. 152/153) |
Unger Mátyás, Unger Mátyás dr., Lang József etc. |
113 |
Unger Mátyás (House Nr. 24) |
Unger Mátyás, Waldherr József, Czellei János, etc. |
114 |
Unger Mihály (House Nr.13) |
Unger Mihály, Zechmeister Mihályné, Czellei János etc. |
115 |
Unger Mihály (House Nr.1) |
Unger Mihály, János and Mátyas; Czellei János |
116 |
Unger Pál |
Unger Pál, Zwickl Mihály, Czellei János, Town of Szolnok |
117 |
Wachtler János (House Nr.7) |
Wachtler János, Town of Szolnok, Grazi Mária |
118 |
Wachtler János (House Nr.154) |
Wachtler János, Haiden János, Weisz József etc. |
119 |
Waldherr Mihály |
Waldherr Mihály, Haiden János, Town of Szolnok |
120 |
Weinhandl János |
Weinhandl János, Boldizsár Erzsébet, Reiter János etc. |
121 |
Weisz János (House Nr.46) |
Weisz János, Reiter János, Bobert István, Town of Szolnok |
122 |
Weisz János (House Nr.111) |
Weisz János and Márton, Czellei János, Trummer Pál |
123 |
Weisz János (House Nr.21) |
Weisz János and József, Czellei József, Trummer Pál |
124 |
Weisz József (House Nr.12) |
Weisz József, Trummer Pál, Town of Szolnok |
125 |
Weisz József (House Nr.23) |
Weisz József and Anna, Town of Szolnok |
126 |
Weisz József (House Nr.41) |
Weisz József, Town of Szolnok |
127 |
Weisz József (House Nr.37) |
Weisz József, Town of Szolnok |
128 |
Weisz József (House Nr.142) |
Weisz József and János, Town of Szolnok, Bobert István |
129 |
Weisz József (House Nr.103) |
Weisz József, Neuberger György, Town of Szolnok |
130 |
Weisz Mátyás (House Nr.105) |
Weisz Mátyás, Czellei János, Town of Szolnok |
131 |
Weisz Mátyás (House Nr.9) |
Weisz Mátyás, Huber Ferencz, Czellei János etc. |
132 |
Weisz Mátyás (House Nr.42) |
Weisz Mátyás, Zechmeister Mihályné, Town of Szolnok |
133 |
Weisz Mátyás (House Nr.47) |
Weisz Mátyás, Town of Szolnok |
134 |
Weisz Mátyás (House Nr.11) |
Weisz Mátyás, Zwickl András, Weisz József |
135 |
Weisz Mátyás (House Nr.3) |
Weisz Mátyás and József, Town of Szolnok |
136 |
Weisz Mihály (House Nr.122) |
Weisz Mihály, Hutflesz András, Grazi Mária etc. |
137 |
Weisz Mihály (House Nr.25) |
Weisz Mihály, Zwickl András, Rom. Cath. Church, etc. |
138 |
Weisz Pál (House Nr.112) |
Weisz Pál, Czellei János, Reiter János, Town of Szolnok |
139 |
Weisz Pál(House Nr.57) |
Weisz Pál, Czellei János, Reiter János, Grazi Mária |
140 |
Weisz Teréz |
Weisz András, Zwickl András, Czellei János |
141 |
Zechmeister János (House Nr.98) |
Zechmeister János, Bobert István, Czellei János etc. |
142 |
Zechmeister János (House Nr.147) |
Zechmeister János, Bobert István, Town of Szolnok |
143 |
Zechmeister József (House Nr.52) |
Zechmeister József, Town of Szolnok |
144 |
Zechmeister József (House Nr.60) |
Zechmeister József, Bobert István, Town of Szolnok |
145 |
Zechmeister Pál (House Nr.15) |
Zechmeister Pál, Czellei János, Grazi Mária etc. |
146 |
Zechmeister Mihály |
Zechmeister Mátyás, Trummer Pál, Czellei János etc. |
147 |
Zechmeister Pál (House Nr.45) |
Zechmeister Pál, Brasch József, Czellei János etc. |
148 |
Zwickl András |
Zwickl András, Laszl Mátyás, Town of Szolnok |
149 |
Zwickl János |
Zwickl János, Bobert István, Town of Szolnok |
150 |
Zwickl József |
Zwickl J., Zwickl J. Jnr., Hutflesz K., Schay B. |
151 |
Zwickl Márton |
Zwickl M., Haiden J., Reiter J., Town of Szolnok |
152 |
Zwickl Mátyás (House Nr.5) |
Zwickl Mátyás, Town of Szolnok |
153 |
Zwickl Mátyás (House Nr.51) |
Zwickl Mátyás, Town of Szolnok, Czellei János |
154 |
Zwickl Mátyás (House Nr.140) |
Zwickl M., Thullner M., Trummer Pál, Town of Szolnok |
155 |
Zwickl Mihály |
Zwickl M., Czellei J., Grazi Mária, Town of Szolnok |
156 |
Zwickl Pál (House Nr.121) |
Zwickl Pál, Zwickl Mihály, Czellei J., Town of Szolnok |
157 |
Zwickl Pál (House Nr.130) |
Zwickl Pál, Reiter János, Weisz A., Town of Szolnok |
The original table only listed a maximum of four owners per farm; the 13 cases in which “etc.” appears at the end of the list of owners indicate farms comprising land belonging to least 5 different properties. This means that the 48 farms in the table, on average, contained land from at least 3.6 different properties. Moreover, certain names that appear frequently (Trummer Pál, Czellei János, Town of Szolnok, etc.) show that property of one owner was often part of several different farms. While this may be an extreme instance – there is not a single farm that did not use some land that did not belong to the farmer – it does pointedly illustrate that farm and property are clearly not equivalent concepts.
For Prussia we have to use more aggregate data, but the implications are the same: Table 2 below compares the distribution of land by farms from the 1882 agricultural census with the Handbook data for properties (1884) for the province of Pomerania, which was the subject of Buchsteiner’s book. This table shows clearly that the size distribution from farm data and the size distribution from property data are markedly different. In general, for the smaller size categories (the area of agricultural land, as used by the census) there are fewer properties with less area than for farms, but that in the larger size categories exactly the opposite is true. If these data are consistent with each other, that can only mean that, on balance, the larger properties tended to comprise more than one farm (i.e., that the operating unit was smaller than the ownership unit). Overall, the census counted 400 more farms (16%) than the Handbook did properties, yet both total agricultural area and total area overall were nearly the same (slightly larger for the properties in both cases). Taking the distribution of large farms from the agricultural census to represent the distribution of large properties thus markedly understates both the average size of large properties and the dispersion of property sizes.
The principal point having been made, further comparisons can most easily be summarized in charts. Charts 1, 2, and 3 which follow use exactly the same data sources as Table 2 to compare farms, properties, and total ownership using the size categories of the agricultural censuses, measured in hectares of agricultural land. These charts show, respectively, the number of units, the agricultural area of these units, and their total area. The pattern in all three charts is the same: As we move up the size categories, the properties grow in importance relative to farms, and ownership grows in importance relative to both, exactly as we would have predicted. The differences among categories, moreover, are very striking.
The foregoing comparisons dealt with number and area of agricultural units. If we should use the value of the land (or its proxy, the land tax assessment) as a measure of size instead of area, the results of our inquiry could be very different indeed. As Klaus Hess found in his study of landownership in all of Prussia, both West and East:
The most important and in fact also most surprising result of the examination of the land tax net yield statistics lies in the re-evaluation of large properties and large farms in western Prussia ... Relative to the respective areas of the western and eastern provinces, the ownership of large properties in the West – according to the attribute of land tax net yield – was not only much more numerous than in East Elbia, but even of equal significance in regard to its economic importance.27
Unfortunately, the agricultural censuses do not report any data about the land tax net yield in the various farm size categories, so a comparison to the data of the property directories cannot be made. Needless to say, we should expect it to follow roughly the same pattern of increasing relative importance of properties compared to farms as we move up through the size categories, but to a lesser extent than in the area comparisons: The larger properties had relatively higher shares of those land types assessed at lower rates (forest, pasture, moorland, water, untaxed land), so that average tax assessment per hectare tended to fall as property size increases.
Thus, when discussing land ownership in Prussia – or anywhere else, for that matter – it is imperative that one understands the concepts relevant and appropriate for the questions being asked, as well as being familiar with the data available, what they measure, and their limits and non-compatibilities. Armed with this knowledge, a scholar would run much less risk of coming to wrong or misleading conclusions.
Notes
1
Jahrbücher für Nationalökonomie und Statistik, 1876 - 1898.
2
Eduard Müller, Der Grossgrundbesitz in der Provinz Sachsen: Eine agrarstatistische Untersuchung, “Sammlung nationalökonomischer und statistischer Abhandlungen des staatsw. Seminars zu Halle a.d.S.,” vol. 67 (Jena: Gustav Fischer, 1912), p. 1.
3
Another source, the volumes concerning the land tax assessment of the 1860s, present extensive data regarding the area and quality of land, without any indication of size of units. Prussia. Ministerium der Finanzen, Grundsteuerveranlagung (25 vols., Berlin: Staatdruckerei, 1864ff). The most important of these data are reprinted in August Meitzen, Der Boden und die landwirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse des Preussischen Staates, vol 4 (Berlin: Paul Parey, 1869), Appendix.
4
Germany. Kaiserliches Statistisches Amt, “Statistik des Deutschen Reiches,” various volumes: 1882: N.F. vol. 5 (1885); 1895: N.F. vol. 112 (1898); 1907: N. F. vol. 212 (1909).
5
The data for both 1878 and 1893 are conveniently summarized in the 1893 volume: Prussia. Königliches Statistisches Bureau, Grundeigenthum und Gebaeude im Pr. Staate, auf Grund der Materialien der Gebaeudesteuerrevision vom Jahre 1893, “Preussische Statistik,” No. 146 (Berlin: Verlag des Königl. Stat. Bureaus, 1898).
6
Preussisches Statistisches Landesamt, Grundbesitzverteilung in Preussen nach den Ergebnissen der ländlichen Verschuldungsstatistik für 1902, Zeitschrift des Preußischen Statistischen Landesamts, Ergänzungsheft 42 (Berlin: Verlag des PSL, 1921).
7
This was in fact a general tax on wealth, including landed wealth. For further details, see for example my “Estimating the value of land from Prussian wealth tax data,” paper presented to the First Conference on German Cliometrics, University of Toronto, September 1999.
8
These amounted to only about 5 per cent of the total land of the country but over 10 per cent in Province of Saxony, Silesia, Hannover, and the Rhineland. (Grundeigenthum, pp. XV - XVI).
9
The space between editions was, for the province of Silesia in the most important of these series of directories (Handbuch des Grundbesitzes im Deutschen Reiche from Paul Parey Verlag in Berlin), considerably longer: First 12, then a full 30 years (1880 - 1892 - 1922). This was very unusual, and almost certainly the result of competition from a Silesia-based series that was long-established, concentrated on and dealt very comprehensively with that province only, and was revised quite frequently (Schlesisches Güteradreßbuch from Verlag Wilhelm Gottlob Korn in Breslau). The main general competition for the Parey series was Niekammers Landwirtschaftliche Adreßbücher, from the Niekammer publishing house in Stettin, but this series started much later and covered fewer provinces.
10
Unfortunately, the Conrad papers in the archive of the University in Halle do not include anything about this series of studies.
11
It is therefore a precise equivalent of, for example, the Hungarian concept of “net cadastral income” (tiszta kataszteri jövedelem), the basis of the land tax in Hungary.
12
See my “The Distribution of Landed Properties by Value and Area: A Methodological Essay based on Prussian Data, 1886 - 1913,” Journal of Income Distribution, vol. 3, no. 1 (Summer 1993), pp. 101 - 140.
13
One Thaler = 3 Marks.
14
See Klaus Hess, Junker und bürgerliche Grossgrundbesitzer im Kaiserreich, “Historische Forschungen,” ed. Karl Erich Born and Harald Zimmerman, vol. 16 (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1990), p. 61.
15
The 1907 agricultural census does not help us much to determine the answer to this question. In the administrative district of Breslau, where the estate Neuschloss was located, there were 12 farms with 1000 or more hectares of agricultural land, comprising in total 26,214 hectares. By riding, the largest size category is 200 or more hectares. Thus we have too little information from which to deduce how the estate of Neuschloss entered into the 1907 agricultural census.
16
The entail specifies the inheritance principle: primogeniture, seniorat, or majorat in most cases. Other forms were also possible, such as secundogeniture or inheritance by a female.
17
Germany: Kaiserliches Statistisches Amt, Landwirthschaftliche Betriebsstatistik nach der allgemeinen Berufszählung vom 5. Juni 1882, “Statistik des Deutschen Reichs,” N.F. vol. 5 (Berlin: Puttkammer & Mühlbrecht, 1885), p. 9*.
18
Betriebsflächen.
19
There is a legal distinction between possession (Besitz) and ownership (Eigentum). Since this legal distinction has no real relevance for our study, we will not distinguish between these two concepts, and use the term “ownership” to encompass them both.
20
In the German terms, the Betriebsstatistik is taken to be a Besitzstatistik.
21
Except perhaps in a case where, for example, several heirs inherited a property in joint ownership, and one of them farmed it while paying rent to the others.
22
Hess, p. 97. Emphasis added.
23
Ilona Buchsteiner, Großgrundbesitz in Pommern 1871-1914: Ökonomische, soziale und politische Transformation der Großgrundbesitzer (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1993). For example, on p. 29 Buchsteiner refers to the properties in the various directories of large properties as Betriebe, and avers that the most important reason that the data of the agricultural censuses cannot be compared with the data of the property directories is that the two sources use different measures of size: the former uses agricultural area, the latter total area. She also goes on to point out (p.30) that different treatment of woodland also contributes to the observed differences, that the directories of large properties left out some “peasant properties,” and that some satellite properties (Vorwerken) might have been treated separately in the census, but included with the main property in the directory. Entirely missing from this discussion is any notion that the concepts themselves are different. Indeed, throughout the entire book she consistently refers to both farms and properties as Betriebe.
24
For a comparison of the structure of land ownership in Hungary and Prussia, see my “Junkers and Magnates: The Social Distribution of Landed Wealth in Prussia and Hungary; A Case Study of Pomerania and Transdanubia, 1893,” Österreichische Osthefte, Nr. 1, 1994, pp. 109 - 131.
25
Földmívelésügyi Magyar Királyi Miniszter [Royal Hungarian Minister of Agriculture], Magyar Korona Országai Mezőgazdasági Statisztikája II. kötet: Gazdacímtár [Agricultural statistics of the Lands of the Holy Hungarian Crown, vol. II: Directory of Farm Operators] (Budapest: Magyar Királyi Állami Nyomda [Royal Hungarian State Press], 1897).
26
After World War I, the Treaty of Trianon awarded a large part of Moson county to Austria, and some villages to Czechoslovakia.
27
Hess, p. 98.
Begegnungen22_Csikos-Nagy
Begegnungen
Schriftenreihe des Europa Institutes Budapest, Band 22:187–194.
BÉLA CSIKÓS-NAGY
Multicultural Economics
The issue of the publication of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences (MTA) entitled Ezredforduló (No. 3, 2003), published studies about the welfare state. My own study, entitled “Contributions to the Theory of Welfare” appeared in this number. I examined this subject within the framework of;
1. the classical economic theories of the 18-19th centuries;
2. the social implications of economics in the 20th century;
3. and the multi-cultural economics of the 21st century.
However, since the subject then was the welfare state, I only briefly referred to culture-determined life styles. However, several people suggested that I should present the major premises of multi-cultural economics in detail. My two-volume work, entitled Economics in a Globalizing World, published in the Strategic Studies series of the MTA in 2002, dealt with this issue; however, the description of multi-cultural economics will be the task for the 21st century. Here I can attempt only a short summary of the relevant concepts.
We may obtain knowledge of economic science by acquiring a complex set of systematic information. In the large western universities, over 21 disciplines provide us insight into the subject. Considering them, the following summary may be offered:
brauches of economics |
|||
I. Economic philosophy |
II. Economics |
III. Specialized |
IV. Comparative |
1. Ontology |
1. Classical |
1. State redistribution of incomes |
1. Ideology |
Classical Economics; Western Civilization and Modernization
Traditionally economic studies were created – consciously or not – as a science valid mainly for Western Civilization. Its geographic boundaries were set within the Atlantic region. This was the economics of the 18th-19th centuries at the time when Great Britain was considered the centre of the world’s economy on account of her colonial empire extending over the entire globe. This natural philosophical trend was based on the philosophical trend which embraced the idea of individual selfishness as a means for personal enrichment. Building this science included the economy organizing role of the state in the 20th century resulting in the establishment of the western state. The liberation movements brought an end to the colonial empires, and the role previously played by Great Britain has been gradually taken over by the United States.
The USA could not depend on a traditional civilization. However, its society based on mass immigration triggered attitudes that were extraordinarily receptive to industrial revolutions. Modernization thus became the driving force of science, putting an end to its territorial isolation. After all, modernization could be brought about (with a few exceptions) anywhere in the world, as this had indeed happened in Japan and in the cases of the so-called “small tigers” countries of Asia. It should be asserted that the ’rest of the world’ excluded from being the beneficiary of science-based constructions begins to shrink. Studies of the economic sciences provide relevant knowledge for societies in ever widening circles.
According to Huntington, modernization should be considered as a process that includes;
– industrialization,
– urbanization,
– literacy,
– education,
– personal enrichment,
– social mobility
– and ever more complex and variable systems of employment.1
A tremendous expansion of scientific and technological knowledge followed the process of modernization. Humanity has subdued and transformed the environment to an ever increasing degree since the 18th century. However, it did not dissolve differences among the many civilizations of the world. It merely created better conditions and opportunities for the intensification of relations between various civilizations. To be more explicit, the process has contributed to the modification of cultural values, but it has not reshaped these values. Modernization has, indeed, influenced cultural values, but it has not shaped these values. Neither have the cultural values of Western Civilization been created by modernization. These values had already existed in the West by the time modernization had come into full swing. However, they did provide fertile soil for the processes of modernization.
The “rest of the world” retained its specific separateness in the 21th century. A “problem” of South versus North had appeared; a curious relationship emerged between the developed and underdeveloped worlds, between the rich and the poor nations. The process cannot be approached solely by using the value system of Western Civilization. The hegemony of the United States had not brought about a change in this sense either.
Creating a Multi-cultural Basis for Global Interests
According to one of the major hypotheses of classical economics, renewable economic resources are gifts for mankind which can be freely used. Based on this premise the period prior to the industrial revolutions of the 18th century brought about an unprecedented economic growth for the world’s economy. At the same time, the process endangered the natural conditions of human environment. Resources that had appeared inexhaustible in the 18th-19th centuries, had been discovered to be rather limited. Ecologists justifiably point out that
1. ecological systems are endangered by global warming;
2. underground water resources are being depleted;
3. fishing is collapsing;
4. because of the extinction of animal and plant species, new problems are emerging, in which demographic expansions play a major role.2
The concept of the common ownership of the Earth and the necessity for central control of its use appears as being a more and more urgent task. All this is unfamiliar to classical economics. After all, the central tenets of this scientific system are based on specific national interests! Accordingly, the balance among the world’s various economic systems consists of the sum of the national interests of individual countries which, in the light of given objective economic conditions, provides for the differences existing in the living conditions among respective societies. Global interests – in an abstract sense – are not being considered. World interests have no political power. Only feelings of responsibility for the general fate of humanity may create hopes for the establishment of a balance ending economic backwardness and the equitable territorial distribution of productive resources. Such suggestions and proposals are usually raised during international discussions. However, when moving beyond national borders, selfishness and strong national interests, based on economic domination, immediately reappear and negate ethical rules. But the increasing realization of the harm caused to the environment and the overwhelming role of industrialized countries in bringing it about, may open a way in the future for establishing new bases for international cooperation.
A committee of the United Nations, led by Gro Harlem Brundtland, published a report in 1987 entitled “Our Common Future.” This committee, appropriately called “World Commission on the Environment and Development,” formulated principles and requirements for the first time which, according to its proclamation, would save the global economy for future generations. The report provided the basis for the “World Conference of the United Nations on Environment and [Sustainable] Development” in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, resulting in the programmatic publication of recommendations with the title of “Tasks for the 21st Century.”3
The program’s recommendations contain 27 points; these make it obvious that, for the economy of the 21st century, the new concept of sustainable development could become one of the pillars on which to build the new science. Its significance is determined:
– first, by its propagation of a close relation between the environment and the economy;
– secondly, by its emphasis on respect for the cultures and interests of various peoples;
– thirdly, its proclamation of universal responsibility for overcoming poverty and
– its declaration of the necessity for a joint defence of the Earth.
Cultural Values East and West
The establishment of new foundations for world-wide interests including the need for recognizing the equal value of various cultures require an over-all perspective in discussing these cultures. Such a view may be based on a variety of parameters. For our purposes it will be sufficient to consider demography.
The demographic numbers in countries belonging to major civilizations had been as follows (in thousand heads) in 1993* |
|||
Chinese |
1,340,900 |
Latin American |
507,500 |
* Based on the Encyclopaedia Britannica, “1994 Book of the Year,” (Chicago, 1994), |
If economic studies were limited to concepts of an allegedly unified world civilization or to the generalized principle of modernization, they would lose ground for providing a globally valid explanation for the economic processes taking place in our world. And yet, science cannot avoid searching for an answer for these problems. The gradual deterioration of the natural environment for humanity is not limited by national borders. If we consider the extraordinary amounts of gases emitted into the atmosphere and creating a greenhouse effect in the industrialized countries, or the deforestation in the developing countries, the problem of the survival of mankind appears to be a common cause. The modern system of information transmission brings about the globalization of capital markets. It is imperative for economic sciences to say something of general validity in these relations. However, if we considered science of having universal validity, then we must begin with the examination of cultural values and these are fundamentally different in various civilizations.
International cooperation in a multi-cultural world presupposes toleration, recognizing the equality of all non-Western civilizations. Therefore, we must re-evaluate such concepts as “free world,” “individual rights,” “forms of property-holding” and “democracy,” etc., since these categories are the products of Western Civilization and they possess contents which will make joint thinking with Eastern Civilizations impossible.
We are witnessing in the East a revival of religious movements which are anti-secular, anti-universalist, — and with the exception of Christian movements – anti-Western in character. They oppose egotism and consumerism. They accept the necessity of science and technology and changes of life styles related to these factors, but they reject westernization. For instance, in East Asian cultures emphasis is placed on the primacy of group-interests in contrast to the interests of the individual. The value system of Confucianism, especially its component related to thriftiness, family values, work and discipline, is accepted in more and more Asian countries. Not only is individualism being rejected in such a value system, but principles of authoritarianism and democracy are recognized only to a limited extent.
In relation to the values of various cultures, the sharpest disputes concern the definition of human rights. The UN published a “Universal Declaration of Human Rights” in 1948. Corresponding to Western cultural values, the declaration stated that freedom of speech, freedom of the press and freedom of assembly and religion are all part of natural human rights. The UN also organized a conference in Vienna in 1993 in order to clarify these rights that were subject to international disputes. The conference uncovered the differences in thinking about these rights between the European and North American states on the one hand, and the Asian-Islamic blocks on the other.
Two months before the conference, the Asian countries had approved a declaration according to which human rights must be considered in the context of “national and religious characteristics reflected by the backgrounds of various historical, religious and cultural developments.” The declaration also stated that the systematic monitoring of human rights-practices in a state by outsiders is a violation of the observed state’s sovereignty. They stated that it is also discriminatory to the right for development if economic support is made dependent on human rights practices in respective countries.
However, we must also realize that it would be unrealistic to consider all this as if it represented the formation of an anti-Western coalition. Chinese and Islamic civilizations fundamentally differ from one another in many respects, including cultural values, social systems, historical traditions and general ways of thinking. Rejection of individualism and the existence of “soft” dictatorships characterize each system and democracy exists there only in very circumscribed forms.
These common elements are clearly recognizable in Eastern cultures that may be part of their anti-Western attitudes. However, all this does not explain the differences characteristic of non-Western cultures exhibited through their value systems. In an economic context, we may explore differences in life styles.
There are societies organized on the basis of religious principles and others where geographic and natural conditions determine the forms of production and the organization of community life. The first are dominated by the accumulation of spiritual wealth and not of material goods. In the second, existing natural conditions provide the framework within which production can proceed by maintaining existence.
Various cultural values may, of course, change with the evolution of production forces. However, a minimal understanding of the forces dominant in the life styles of Eastern societies will make it obvious that the promotion of ideas of the commercialization of life on an American pattern would be futile. It seems more realistic to consider the idea of changing consumer practices and attitudes in the developed world in the interest of preventing harm to the environment. It certainly appears impossible at the present time to forecast the coming transformation in production methods in the 21st century. It is likely that the changes will not occur in the economic system (in trade and commerce, markets, prices, credits, etc.), but transformation will probably occur in the relationship among the economy, the state and the judicial systems.
The Neutrality of the World Market of Capital
The world had already embarked on an untested process of multi-cultural economic cooperation. One sign of this is the introduction of a world market for environmental pollution rights. The roots of this process may be found in the resolution of the UN of 1988, dealing with protection of the global climate in order to preserve the environment for future generations. This resolution established obligations to restore the emission of pollutant gases, (especially carbon dioxide and others) to the levels of 1990, within a determined time frame. The global market for pollutant rights makes it possible for industrialized nations to purchase such rights from sates in which pollution is much less than the determined upper limit.4 We must note, however, that from the point of view of multi-cultural economics, the neutralization of the world market of capital seems to be a decisive factor. Will it be possible to separate the monetary policies of the International Monetary Fund and of the World Bank from the interests of the United States? What is at issue here?
The agreement at Bretton Woods determined financial cooperation in the world in the 20th century. The agreement provides a special position for the United States. In fact, the US provided guarantees that it would exchange US dollars for gold for foreign holders of the currency at any time they desired. However, the Vietnam war was financed by an enormous amount of printed dollars. The basis for this was provided by the accumulation of dollars at European national banks. When France declared its intention to change its dollar holdings for gold, the US president declared the right of foreigners to do so invalid.
The International Monetary Fund and the World Bank had also been created by the Bretton Woods agreement. Both have their headquarters in Washington DC and conduct their policies according to US interests. Their interpretation of human rights in the European style became part of their policies and it was incorporated in the principles of the regulation of the world wide movement of capital. This stabilized the leading economic position of the West at a time when the colonial system came to an end and the former colonies, now independent states, could organize their social systems as best suited for themselves. The UN declaration of 1948 provides a basis for the West to consider it as a determining factor in formulating its economic relations with countries of very different civilizations. The said resolution makes possible the following:
– to determine granting credit on favourable terms by the IMF
– to evaluate requests for cancelling debts
– to grant various types of financial support
– to determine preferential customs duties in export-import trade
– and to weigh the granting of similar privileges during the political evaluation of a given country
The consolidation of the world market of capital has never involved the question for a solution that would result in the neutralization of the capital market. And yet, it would be logical – if the equality of different cultures and their economic cooperation were taken into serious consideration – to disconnect the movements of capital from principles considering the primacy of Western Civilization as its basis. In the 21st century, the increasing economic power of non-Western civilizations and the changes of power relations based on such developments will probably create a neutral capital market eventually.
Reconciliation of Interests, Compromises and Dangers of Conflict
Western economic and military supremacy and the challenges issued against them are characteristics of the turn of the 21st century. The challenges originate mostly in Asia and the Muslim worlds. East Asian civilizations identifying with Confucianism and the Muslim world may become dynamic civilizations in the 21st century. However, challenges issued for the West have various motive forces in their background. While the Asians gained self-confidence as the result of industrialization, the Muslims turned to Islam in ever greater numbers which they consider the source of all identity, reason, legitimacy, development, power and hope.
There are other significant differences as well. The Muslim world employs every possible form of terrorism – encouraged by the spread of fundamentalist extremism – in order to undermine the social foundations of Western Civilization. Asia did not choose such a method. There seems to be general agreement that the rapid economic development of Asia will continue in the 21st century. According to Henry Kissinger, China may reach the level of economic development of the United States by the middle of the 21st century.5 This is the soil from which Asian self confidence has grown.
No matter in what way one evaluates the relations between cultural values and economic development, one should not be surprised by the efforts of non-Western countries to increase their military potential. In many instances, an un-proportionately large part of their GDP is spent for such a purpose.
In the final count, everything will depend on whether and to what extent efforts are undertaken by countries belonging to different civilizations to prevent conflicts and find compromises. The first and most important question appears after all whether changes can be brought about in power relations in order to prevent war among civilizations and to create peaceful cooperation to further the future development of humankind?”
Notes
1
Huntington S.P. Clash of civilizations ( original title), Budapest, 1998
2
Annual report of the Worldwatch Institute entitled ”State of the World” on the ever worsening state of our environment as of 1990 (see the scripts of Brown , L.R.)
3
The decision of the UNO conference , 1992 ”Environment and Development” about the tasks for the 21st century
4
The master agreement of the UNO 1992 about the changes of the climate
5
Kissinger, H. A. Diplomacy, Budapest 1996
Begegnungen22_Busek
Begegnungen
Schriftenreihe des Europa Institutes Budapest, Band 22:13–21.
ERHARD BUSEK
Corvinus-Preis 2003
Verleihung an Dr. Árpád Göncz
Für Árpád Göncz eine Laudatio halten zu dürfen, ist eine außerordentliche Auszeichnung. Es beim Corvinus-Preis zu tun, ist ebenso eine Herausforderung, denn inzwischen hat sich diese Anerkennung in Mitteleuropa einen Platz erworben, der als Signal für Europa und die Entwicklung der Demokratie zu sehen ist. Mit István Szabó und Gabriel Andrei Pleşu stellen sich nicht nur Persönlichkeiten vor, sondern wird ein Programm umgesetzt. Das Leben von Árpád Göncz widerspiegelt nicht nur das 20. Jahrhundert, sondern eben auch ein solches Programm.
Geboren ist er am 10. Februar 1922 in Budapest. 1944 Erwerb des Doktortitels als Jurist an der Pázmány-Péter-Universität. 1942–1945 Jurist des Landesinstituts für Bodenkreditwesen.
Seine politische Laufbahn beginnt in der Unabhängigen Kleinen Landwirte-, Landarbeiter- und Bürgerlichen Partei als Sekretär des Generalsekretärs der Partei. Außerdem ist er Vorsitzender des Budapester Verbandes der Unabhängigen Jugend sowie 1947–1948 verantwortlicher Redakteur des Wochenblattes „Nemzedék” (Generation). Von 1948 ist er arbeitslos, dann arbeitet er 1949–1951 als Autogenschweißer und Rohrschlosser. 1951–1956 ist er Bodenschutztechniker und Betriebsorganisationsagronom.
Von 1952 setzt er seine Studien fort: absolviert vier Jahre an der Agrarwissenschaftlichen Universität Gödöllő, kann jedoch das Diplom nicht erwerben, denn aus dem Gefängnis befreit wird er von der Universität ausgeschlossen. Als Mitangeklagter im Prozess gegen Istvan Bibó wird er zum lebenslänglichen Gefängnis verurteilt, davon sitzt er mehr als sechs Jahre ab. 1963 wird er mit Amnestie befreit.
Von 1963 arbeitet er als Fachübersetzer, von 1965 als literarischer Übersetzer und freischaffender Schriftsteller.
1983 wird er mit dem József-Attila-Preis geehrt, 1989 erhält er den Wheatland-Preis für die hervorragende Übertragung englischer Literatur und 1991 den Primio Mediterraneo-Preis.
Seine bekanntesten Werke als Dramatiker sind: „Ungarische Medea”, „Waage”, „Gitter”, „Pessimistische Komödie”, „Persephone”, sein Roman „Sandalenträger” erscheint 1974, sein Novellenband „Begegnungen” 1980. Er übersetzte über hundert Werke von in der Mehrheit englischen und amerikanischen Autoren (J. Baldwin, E. L. Doctorow, W. Faulkner, W. Golding, E. Hemingway, Styron, S. Sontag, J. Updike. E. Wharton usw.).
Von 1981 bis 1989 leitet er die Übersetzersektion des Ungarischen Schriftstellerverbandes, 1988–1989 ist er Vorsitzender der Schriftstellergewerkschaft, vom Dezember 1989 bis September 1990 Präsident, seitdem Ehrenpräsident des Ungarischen Schriftstellerverbandes.
In den ersten freien Wahlen im Frühjahr 1990 wird er zum Parlamentsabgeordneten der Allianz der Freidemokraten (SZDSZ) gewählt. Vom 2. Mai 1990 ist er Präsident der neuen Nationalversammlung, in diesem Amt nimmt er nach der Verfassung auch die Aufgabe des Staatspräsidenten wahr. Am 3. August 1990 wählt ihn das Parlament zum Präsidenten der Republik Ungarn. Am 19. Juni 1995 wird er in seinem Amt für weitere fünf Jahre bestätigt. Am 4. August 2000 läuft sein Mandat ab und er übergibt das Präsidentenamt an Ferenc Mádl.
Er heiratet 1946. Seine Frau, Zsuzsanna Göntér ist Diplom-Sozialfürsorgerin, arbeitet als Beamtin und Industriearbeiterin. Sie haben zwei Söhne und zwei Töchter und bislang sieben Enkelkinder.
Ist das wirklich alles, was Árpád Göncz bedeutet? Es ist allein schon ein historisches Signal, dass er der erste Staatspräsident in der Demokratie wiedergegebenen Ungarn war. Er war es auch, der zusammen mit Vaclav Havel und Lech Walesa die Visegrad-Gruppe geschaffen hat. Heute sieht man das als ein Beispiel einer regionalen Kooperation an, damals war es ein Signal von Persönlichkeiten, die durch ihr Leben nicht nur als Demokraten, sondern auch als Leuchttürme ausgewiesen waren. Leuchttürme in dem Sinn, dass sie den Bürgern ihrer Länder Orientierung gaben und verständlicherweise aber auch charakteristischerweise nicht irgendwie aus der Politik kamen, was im Kommunismus für sie auch nicht möglich war, sondern durch ihr kulturelles und gewerkschaftliches Wirken das Kontrastprogramm zum realen Sozialismus darstellten. Sie brachten auch das Gedächtnis ihren Nationen zurück und setzten einen Trennungsstrich zu den Geschichts- und Gesichtsverlust, den das kommunistische System zweifellos für diesen Teil Europas bedeutet hat. Rasch sind wir zur Tagesordnung übergegangen. Vaclav Havel ging vor kurzem in eine ihm von seinem eigenen Staat nicht gewährte Pension, Lech Walesa verwaltet die Gelder seiner Stiftung, die ihm der Friedensnobelpreis ermöglicht hat und Arpad Göncz wird zu unserem Glück als Autor über sein Land hinaus gespielt, wie ich betonen möchte auch in Österreich.
Natürlich reflektiert ein Autor wie Árpád Göncz das Schicksal seiner Zeit. In seinem Werk „Sandalenträger” finde ich folgenden Text: „Einem Würzburger Kodex aus dem 15. Jahrhundert zufolge wurde am 9. Januar 1401 in der Sankt-Michaelis-Kirche in Sopron über eine Gruppe von Waldenser Ketzern das Urteil gesprochen. Der Kodex enthält auszugsweise eine Kopie des Gerichtsurteils, erwähnt jedoch – außer den Inquisitor, den Prior des Zölestinerordens Péter Zwicker und den Prager Altbischof Márton – nur einen Namen, den der Witwe Jakob Bertungsgot aus Kőszeg, die schon seit zwölf Jahren als Ketzerin galt. Doch laut Gerichtsurteil gab es unter den Angeklagten sogar einen, der sich schon seit sechsundzwanzig Jahren zu dem Irrglauben bekannt hatte. Es sind lauter milde Urteile, allerdings fällt kein Wort von den Anführern der Gemeinde oder gar Gemeinden, vom Schicksal derjenigen, die von den Ketzern für gute Menschen und für apostolische Vertreter Christi’ gehalten werden. Hat man den Prozess gegen sie gesondert geführt? Oder gerieten sie der Inquisition durch einen glücklichen Umstand gar nicht in die Hände? Wer weiß es schon. Ihre Spuren sind verwischt, ihr Los hat die Geschichte verschlungen.”
Hat dieses quasi historische Zitat nicht viel mit unserer Zeit zu tun? Ist nicht die Verwischung der Spuren der Geschichte ein Charakteristikum? Es ist gut, dass uns der Zugang eröffnet wird, wie das etwa auch vor kurzem in einer Inszenierung von Árpád Göncz Werk „Bilanz” in Österreich geschah. Er setzt sich mit einem Schicksal eines Paares auseinander, das charakteristisch für die jüngere ungarische Geschichte ist. In diesem Zwei-Personen Stück geht es um einen Mann und eine Frau, die bei den schmerzlichen Ereignissen in Budapest teilgenommen haben. Damals waren sie ein Paar, zwanzig Jahre später treffen sie sich wieder. Er ist damals in Ungarn geblieben, hat eine Frau und einen Sohn, sie ist in die USA geflohen und hat Mann und Tochter. Ganz auf Gegensätze baut Göncz sein Stück auf. Von den Personenkonstellationen bis zu den Dialogen, die um Lüge und Wahrheit, weggehen und hier bleiben, amerikanisches Weltbürgertum und Heimatliebe kreisen. Er vergisst seine Heimat nicht, wenn er zum Beispiel die Golden Gate-Bridge der Kettenbrücke Budapests gegenüberstellt. Die Addition dieser Teile müssen wir selbst vornehmen. Die politischen Ereignisse haben das Paar getrennt und beide gewissermaßen zerstört. Können sie wieder zusammenkommen? Diese Frage stellt sich für unser Europa. Trotz oder gerade wegen der Erweiterung der Europäischen Union und dem, was noch vor Europa liegt. Können wir wieder zusammenkommen? Diese Frage wird uns spätestens ab Mai 2004 in der Realität beschäftigen. Bisher schon war sie gestellt und wurde auf die unterschiedlichste, manchmal auch dümmste Weise beantwortet. Gerade in der Relation Österreich – Ungarn kann es eigentlich diese Frage nicht geben, trotzdem wurde sie von Mitbürgern gestellt – und das, angesichts der Tatsache, dass der Weg zu einem gemeinsamen Europa ohne Alternative ist, wenn Europa überhaupt existieren will.
Lassen Sie mich noch auf ein drittes Stück eingehen. „Magyar Médea – Das ungarische Medea Drama”: Medea ist von ihrem Mann András Jászó wegen einer jüngeren Frau, Tochter eines hohen Funktionärs, verlassen worden und bereits rechtskräftig geschieden. Nun ertränkt sie ihren Schmerz in hochprozentigem Alkohol und räsoniert über ihre 24jährige Ehe mit András, den sie sich herbeiphantasiert, um vor dieser Fiktion des einstig Geliebten die in die Brüche gegangene Beziehung zu reflektieren. Geister- und traumhaft begleiten die Chorstimmen der antiken „Medea” von Euripides die Klagen, die Hasstiraden, die klar analysierten Verhaltensweisen zwischen Mann und Frau sowie den Leibesschmerz dieser ungarischen Frau und Mutter, die András, den ehemaligen Traktorfahrer, heiratete und ihn zu einer wissenschaftlichen Karriere animierte. Medea begeht keinen Rachemord an der Rivalin, und sie tötet auch nicht ihren Sohn, der bei einem Verkehrsunfall stirbt. Sie ist eine moderne Frau, und doch durchlebt sie Gefühle, die über die Zeiten und Kulturen unverändert geblieben sind. Ihre derb-verzweifelte Umgangssprache und der klassische Text betonen den Gegensatz und gleichzeitig die Untrennbarkeit der Vergangenheit und der Gegenwart, des Guten und des Bösen, des Mannes und der Frau.”
Diese ungarische Medea ist in einer gewissen Weise ironisch, denn es gibt mehr als einige moderne Formen der Adaptierung der Medea-Legende. Es wird eine spirituelle Frage in diesem Stück gestellt, die sich in den persönlichen Beziehungen der handelnden Personen widerspiegelt. Extreme kommen zum Ausdruck, Emotionen werden sichtbar, wie sie nicht nur in der Antike, sondern erst recht in unserer Zeit zu Hause waren und sind. Nicht umsonst spricht man bei einigen Ereignissen von einem antiken Drama. Die Tiefe des Geschehens wird sichtbar, als in diesem Stück ein Polizist ohne alle Umschweife der Medea meldet, dass ihr Sohn gerade bei einem Verkehrsunfall gestorben ist. Als sie eine massive Dosis von Schlafpulvern gemeinsam mit einem vollen Glas starken Wodkas nimmt, stellt sie fest „ich hätte das schon gestern tun sollen”. Eine extreme Lösung ist es also, die hier reflektiert wird – eine Widerspiegelung eines Zeitalters, das in der Ideologie extreme Lösungen durch Nazismus und Stalinismus kannte. Ist daraus nicht eine Lehre für unsere Zeit zu beziehen?
Die Tragik ist, dass heute niemand so recht diese Konfrontation mit den Wirklichkeiten des 20. Jahrhunderts will, aber diese Wirklichkeiten nicht nur als Geschichte im 21. Jahrhundert weiterleben. Diese Hilflosigkeit der sogenannten Vergangenheitsbewältigung, die Aufrufe zur Versöhnung und die Beliebigkeit unseres Zeitalters tun das ihre dazu, um auf den Seelenhaushalt unserer Zeit einen Mantel des Verwischens und Vergessens zu breiten. Es waren Persönlichkeiten wie Árpád Göncz, die uns jenes neue Europa geschenkt haben, dass sich so zögerlich seiner neuen Wirklichkeit stellt und nicht so richtig dafür ein Konzept entwickeln kann. Wohlgemerkt, vieles hat sich getan, aber ob es eine wirklich geistige Auseinandersetzung neben den ökonomischen Veränderungen ist, diese Frage erleben wir jeden Tag. Europa tut sich schwer Bilanz zu ziehen, wenngleich die Generation von Árpád Göncz, die uns eben dieses Europa neu geschenkt hat, das Recht hat, von denen, die nach ihnen kommen eine Bilanz einzufordern.
Mich begeistern immer wieder eine Reihe von politischen Analytikern und Zeitgeistdeutern, die mir in munteren Aufsätzen jetzt versichern, dass 1989 und die Folgejahre einfach zu diesem Zeitpunkt zu kommen hatten. Unter dem Motto: „Ich habe es immer schon gewusst.”, werden da Entwicklungen und Trends aufgezeichnet, quasi im Nachhinein hochgerechnet, die zwangsweise zu dieser Entwicklung führen mussten. Mir ist unklar, ob es darum geht, die Geschichte als ein Ergebnis zwanghafter Entwicklungen darzustellen, um den freien Willen der Menschen und ihre Gestaltungskraft zu leugnen, oder ob nur manche ein wenig gescheiter als ihre Zeitgenossen sein wollen – und das im Nachhinein. Aber eigentlich interessiert mich das nicht. Viel interessanter ist die Frage, wie es überhaupt dazu gekommen ist, denn meines Erachtens konnte wohl kaum einer zwingend aus der Entwicklung ablesen, dass sich der Kommunismus aus dem Staub der Weltgeschichte machen wird und der Sowjetblock noch in diesem Jahrhundert der Vergangenheit angehört. Noch in den 70er Jahren gab es eine beachtliche Literatur, die sich mit der Sowjetmacht auseinander setzte und sie als immer stärker werdende Bedrohung der freien demokratischen Welt verstand.
Die westliche Welt war schon lange auf dem Weg, sich mit der Stärke des Sowjetblocks abzufinden. Da der Westen rein ideologisch pragmatisch an die Dinge herangegangen ist, ließ er es beim Containment der sowjetisch-kommunistischen Gefahr durch den Kalten Krieg bewenden, war aber aus nahe liegenden Gründen an einer Entspannung interessiert. Chruschtschow hat dem durch die These von der Koexistenz und damit durch die Verabschiedung von einem wesentlichen Bestandteil der marxistischen Theorie, nämlich dem historischen Zwang zur kriegerischen Auseinandersetzung mit dem Kapitalismus und dem Endsieg der kommunistischen Revolution, auch entsprochen.
„Die Zeit, die ist ein gar sonderbares Ding.” Hugo von Hofmannsthal lässt seine Marschallin im „Rosenkavalier” angesichts einer berührenden Betrachtung über das Alter diese nachdenklichen Worte sagen. Das gilt heute mehr denn je nicht nur für den persönlichen Lebensablauf, sondern vor allem für die Schnelligkeit der Ereignisse und das Tempo der Veränderung. Vielleicht ist sogar der Alterungsprozess der Personen in unseren Breitengraden langsamer geworden, dafür ist er schneller in den gesellschaftlichen Prozessen. Wir werden zur eigenen Lebenszeit noch zum Museumsstück. Wenn ich daran denke, dass nur mehr als ein Jahrzehnt seit 1989 um ist, wird mir deutlich, wie Personen und Denkweisen, die zu diesem „annus mirabilis” geführt haben, bereits der Vergangenheit angehören. Fast scheinen die Helden dieser Zeit schon verschwunden, von der Gier der Zeit, ständig Neues haben zu wollen, vertrieben, beerdigt und verschluckt, obwohl viele von ihnen noch leben. Meist leben sie noch dazu unter ihrer Würde, mit schäbigen Pensionen, wahrscheinlich sind manche kommunistischen Machthaber von vorgestern besser abgesichert, weil sie sich auf ihre Weise Reichtümer beiseite schaffen konnten.
Mich verbinden persönlich wichtige Erinnerungen mit diesen Menschen, sie sind ein Teil meines Lebens. Dazu zählt Árpád Göncz. Ich möchte nicht die Biographie diverser Persönlichkeiten ergänzen, sondern ein paar durchgehende Linien der Entwicklung aufzeigen, wie sie für mich sichtbar geworden sind. Es gilt auch festzuhalten, was manche wie Göncz Großartiges geleistet haben, welche Opfer damit verbunden waren, welche Fehler und Verkennungen geschahen. Die Zeit scheint mir dazu reif zu sein, da das Geschehen vor der Jahrhundertwende inzwischen durch Globalisierung und unerbittlichen ökonomischen Wettbewerb, durch das Übrigbleiben einer Supermacht und der Beliebigkeit der Ideen, polarisiert durch die Sehnsucht nach einfachen Erklärungsweisen, durch nationalistische Strömungen und den Eintritt neuer Erdteile in das große Spiel eine neue Qualität bekommt. Mittel-, Ost- und Südosteuropa tendieren nach dem gewaltigen Bruch zur Normalisierung. Nun gilt es festzuhalten, was an gemeinsamen und unterschiedlichen Tendenzen da sichtbar wurde und was wie in die Zukunft führen kann. Schließlich ist es für viele ein Zwischenresultat ihres Lebens und Zeit, über die Begegnung mit Mitteleuropa Auskunft zu geben und ihre Relevanz für die Zukunft festzuhalten.
Ein paar Gesichtspunkte zur weiteren Orientierung noch und warum manche Menschen in dieser Wendezeit so bedeutend gewesen sind:
– Die Veränderung in diesem Raum Europas geschah autochthon. Weder kann man davon reden, dass es Einfluss von außen war, noch war es militärischer oder politischer Druck. Das Gleichgewicht der Blöcke und damit des Schreckens hätte vom Westen aus gesehen noch Jahrzehnte fortbestehen können, wenn es nicht handelnde Personen im Osten gegeben hätte.
– Die Idee des Kommunismus und einer sozialistischen Gesellschaftsordnung waren schon lange am Ende. 1953 Berlin, 1956 Budapest, 1968 Prag und das Kriegsrecht in Polen haben Schritt um Schritt dazu beigetragen. Letztlich hat die „Arbeiterklasse” den Ausschlag zum Sturz gegeben (Solidarnosc als Gewerkschaft).
– Es waren weniger die wirtschaftlichen Misserfolge als das Angebot geistiger Alternativen durch Literaten, Intellektuelle und Künstler wie Árpád Göncz und andere. Es war möglich, eine Metawelt als positive Alternative zum realen Sozialismus zu schaffen, die als Perspektive für die Zukunft auch von den Massen verstanden wurde.
– Universitäten, Kirchen, Schriftstellervereinigungen spielten eine unterschiedliche, aber wesentliche Rolle in diesem Prozess, wodurch auch neue Legitimationen entstanden sind. Eine moralische Komponente in allen Bürgerbewegungen war entscheidend.
– Der Westen war nicht vorbereitet und hat bis heute bei den wirtschaftlichen, sozialen und politischen Problemen bis zur heutigen EU-Erweiterung eine Antwort nicht so recht gefunden. Es ist erstaunlich, dass der Zusammenbruch des Sowjetimperiums zwar immer rhetorisch herbeigesehnt wurde (Ronald Reagan: „the empire of the evil”), aber bis heute ist eine erträgliche Formel zur multivariablen Landschaft nicht gefunden worden. Bipolare Situationen sind offensichtlich leichter zu bewältigen.
– Persönlichkeiten haben diese Phase Mittel- und Osteuropas geprägt, die vornehmlich nicht aus der Politik kamen und inzwischen freiwillig oder durch Abwahl wieder dorthin gegangen sind, woher sie kamen – Göncz als Beispiel.
– Die vielgestaltige Landkarte dieser Regionen ist wieder sichtbar geworden:
– Minderheitenprobleme, historische Grenzziehungen tragen ebenso zum Problemkatalog bei wie Geschichtsmythen und antiquierte Machtvorstellungen.
– Der Fall des Eisernen Vorhangs hat kulturelle Verschiedenheiten deutlicher gemacht, die im Fall einer Konfrontation durch wechselseitiges Nichtverstehen Träger kontinentaler, sogar globaler Konflikte werden könnten. Das Eingehen auf die slawische, orthodoxe und islamische Welt ist zu einer Herausforderung der Zeit geworden.
Ob es Europa überhaupt gibt, ist durch 1989 zur Disposition gekommen, wobei die Integration des Kontinents von Machtbestrebungen aller Art polarisiert wird. Ebenso kann es zu einer Isolation, bzw. permanenten Selbstbefassung der Europäer führen, wenn nicht der Verfassungskonvent der EU einen Weg zum besseren eröffnet hat.
Ein wenig sich der Erinnerung widmen, verlangt nicht nur der Respekt vor den in dieser Zeit handelnden Personen und ihrer Leistungen, sondern auch die Suche nach Lösungen. Um die Wurzeln muss man wissen, wenn man evolutionär in die Zukunft gehen will. Die Marschallin Hofmannsthals philosophiert über die Sonderbarkeit der Zeit vor dem Spiegel. Ihn uns zeitweise vorzuhalten, verlangt der ordentliche Umgang mit uns selber, sonst wären wir keine verantwortungsbewussten Zeitgenossen.
Jene Spezies, die den genannten Gesichtspunkten entspricht, bzw. die angeführten Fragen herbeigeführt hat, wird heute als „Dissidenten” bezeichnet. Ich weiß nicht, wer diesen Begriff eingeführt hat, er zeichnet sich aber durch eine ungeheure Farblosigkeit aus. Niemand will sie Revolutionäre nennen, obwohl sie eine ungeheure Revolution, einen Umsturz epochemachender Art bewirkt haben. Einzig und allein die Vorgänge in der Tschechoslowakei wurden als „Samtene Revolution” bezeichnet. Damit war aber dort keine Verharmlosung gemeint, sondern die Tatsache, dass man das bei Revolutionen übliche Blutvergießen vermieden hat und die Humanität der Vorgangsweise als ein Ergebnis historischer Reife beeindruckend war, wie eben auch bei der Sezession der beiden Landesteile zur heutigen Tschechischen Republik und der Slowakei.
Konterrevolutionäre im kommunistischen Sinn konnte man ja diese Intellektuellen, Wissenschafter, Künstler, Menschenrechtskämpfer, Priester und Lehrer nicht nennen. In den Kategorien der westlichen Demokratien waren sie eine besondere Erscheinung, denn vielfach kamen sie aus den Erfahrungen kommunistischer Parteimitgliedschaften oder aber aus den nichtpolitischen Raum. Ihre Kampfmittel waren auch nicht Instrumente der Propaganda oder gar subversive Tätigkeit. In einer pathetischen Sprache würde man sagen, dass sie mit den blanken Waffen des Geistes und ihrer analytischen Fähigkeit angetreten sind, auf eine eigentümliche Weise ungeschützt und erst recht damit unter einem besonderen Schutz stehend. Am ehesten ließen sie sich noch mit der Strategie der Gewaltlosigkeit vergleichen, wie sie etwa Ghandi im indischen Freiheitskampf angewendet hat.
Es war aber nicht die Begeisterung der Massen, der Druck der Straße, sondern das Aufrollen des kommunistischen Systems von Innen heraus.
Klassisches Beispiel ist dafür das „Kulturforum”, das im Oktober und November 1985 in Budapest stattfand. Die Teilnehmer von der anderen Seite des Eisernen Vorhangs lesen sich wie eine Ehrentafel des Geistes und der Literatur, der Westen war prominent, eigentlich nur mit Susan Sonntag vertreten, die offensichtlich aufgrund ihrer Herkunft ein besonderes Sensorium für die Situation hatte. Ich erinnere mich noch, wie schwer es war, überhaupt einen österreichischen Schriftsteller dafür aufzutreiben (Barbara Frischmuth bin ich heute noch verbunden, dass sie sich zur Teilnahme bereiterklärt hat.). Die Empfindungslosigkeit der Geisteswelt des europäischen Westens gegenüber den um ihre Freiheit ringenden Gefährten im Osten bedarf noch einer eigenen Untersuchung. In einem späteren Abschnitt waren es allein französische Intellektuelle, meist ehemalige Kommunisten, die sich das Gefühl dafür erhielten, dass es hier offensichtlich um jene Freiheit ging, die zu jeder Zeit immer wieder von Menschen auch mit der Feder in der Hand erfochten wird. Ich bin in Besitz vieler Erzählungen, wie schwierig es war, auf diversen PEN-Kongressen entsprechende Resolutionen durchzubringen. Damit soll die tapfere Rolle verschiedener Schriftsteller gar nicht gemindert werden. In Österreich waren es aber besonders jene, die selbst das Schicksal der Emigration erfahren haben und erst zu Österreichern wurden und ihre Wurzeln in Mittel- oder Osteuropa nie vergaßen.
In aller Deutlichkeit muss gesagt werden, dass die westlichen Demokratien und die Öffentlichkeit auch in Österreich die ganze Angelegenheit ungeheuerlich verharmlost hat. Wie mit dem Begriff der Dissidenten umgegangen wurde, zeigt etwa die Tatsache, dass man etwa auch bei Thomas Bernhard von einem Dissidentenschicksal sprach. Es geht dabei gar nicht um die Bewertung dessen, was es an Diskussionen und Auseinandersetzungen um Thomas Bernhard gegeben hat. Der Vergleich ist zu kritisieren, gegen den sich Thomas Bernhard auch sicher verwahrt hätte. Gulag-Aufenthalte und Gefängnisstrafen, Schreibverbote und Verschweigungen sind etwas anderes als berechtigte und weniger berechtigte kritische Auseinandersetzungen. Ich habe rückblickend den Eindruck, dass man bei uns das Dissident-sein als eine normale Option angesehen hat, die schlicht und einfach für Künstler und Intellektuelle besonders nahe liegend war. Man wurde auf diese Weise quasi berühmter, meinte man hierzulande, genauso wie es naive Jugendliche gibt, die meinen, man hätte sich in der NS-Zeit ja auch ohne Schwierigkeiten zum Zivildienst melden können, um unschuldig zu bleiben. Es war von den Dissidenten im Ostblock für ihre Position ein hoher Preis zu zahlen, eine umfangreiche Literatur gibt darüber Auskunft. Oft ist heute vergessen, dass nicht nur Arrest und Dauerbespitzelung, sondern Berufsverbote, Schlägerrein, Reiseverbote auf der einen Seite und Landesverweise auf der anderen Seite die Mittel waren, Menschen gefügig zu machen oder zum Schweigen zu bringen. Einen Schriftsteller zu entwurzeln, ihm sein Land und damit seine Sprache wegzunehmen ist genauso schlimm, wie andere Sparten der Kunst durch Verschweigung zu bestrafen. Der Künstler braucht seine Öffentlichkeit, sein Publikum, seinen Adressaten für die Aussage, die ihm wichtig ist. Man soll auch nicht unterschätzen, welche verdrehten Wege gegangen werden mussten, um seinen eigenen künstlerischen Weg zu finden. Ich werde nie vergessen, dass in den Zeiten vor 1989 bei der Biennale in Venedig die meisten Christusdarsteller von jenen Künstlern geboten wurden, die unter dem Sowjetsystem zu schaffen hatten. Meistens waren sie brave Parteimitglieder oder Angehörige der entsprechenden Künstlerbünde. Die Bilder offenbarten ein verquertes Verhältnis zur Religion, aber es wurde als Ausdruck der eigenen Unsicherheit und des Ringens gewählt. Die persönliche Qual des Schaffenden war deutlich zu merken.
Es geht nicht darum, eine Ehrentafel zu schaffen, sondern jenen Respekt zu zeigen, die durch ihr Engagement, ihre Anständigkeit und persönliche Festigkeit der Zukunft Europas unter Freiheit und der Demokratie eine ungeheure Chance gegeben haben.
Das Dichterwort über die Vergänglichkeit des Ruhmes von Schauspielern ist bekannt. „Die Nachwelt flicht dem Mimen keine Kränze...”. Auch Politiker sind „in der Erscheinungen Flucht” von kurzfristiger Berühmtheit. Das hat seinen guten Grund und wird von der Fernsehwelt von heute noch verstärkt. Rasch verdrängt ist die Erinnerung durch neue Bilder, und was erst gestern war, kommt einem schon seit Wochen überholt vor.
Die Dynamik der Ereignisse in Europa, besonders in unserer Nachbarschaft, hat dazu geführt, dass so manche Persönlichkeit, die wesentlichen Anteil an den Veränderungen hatte, heute schon vergessen oder in ihrer Rolle gar nicht mehr recht bekannt ist. Zwar wird später schon eine Geschichtsschreibung das ihre dazu tun, um die Vergesslichkeit zu bekämpfen, aber manches verdient heute festgehalten zu werden, sonst ist es rasch vergessen. Vollständigkeit ist gar nicht möglich, aber einige Beobachtungen und Beurteilungen wie bei Árpád Göncz mögen es wert sein, überliefert zu werden.
Nicht alle und nicht alles kann nur positiv gesehen werden. Irrtümer haben diese Persönlichkeiten ebenso begangen. Aber Mut zeichnete sie aus, sie haben sich nicht abgefunden, sondern gesucht und auf ihre Weise gekämpft. Es sind auch oft keine geradlinigen Lebensläufe, sondern mit Brüchen versehene, die allerdings mit den tektonischen Verwerfungen der Zeit gemeinsam gesehen werden müssen. Ein kleines Denk-Mal soll es sein, eine Aufforderung, aus der Erfahrung anderer ein Nach- und Bedenken abzuleiten. Ihre Spuren sollen ein wenig gesichert werden.
Der Corvinus-Preis 2003 sichert die Spur des Árpád Göncz.
Begegnungen22_Bayer
Begegnungen
Schriftenreihe des Europa Institutes Budapest, Band 22:171–185.
JÓZSEF BAYER
The Process of Political System Change in Hungary
Deepening Crisis, Emerging Opposition
By the 1980’s, Hungary was experiencing serious economic difficulties; negative economic indices were multiplying; a trap of debts was closing around the country and Western loans obtained for the modernization of the economy did not change the outdated economic mechanism. Neither productivity, nor the export of goods has improved. The unfavourable balance of trade and finances could only be handled by the acquisition of further loans. The standard of living, achieved at the time of economic growth, could be maintained only through an ever increasing foreign indebtedness. A looming social crisis also appeared on the horizon; previous standards of living for part of the population could be maintained only by self-exploitation. Indices of public health and of birth and death rates worsened; a chronic demographic decline became a reality.
However, the political leaders denied the facts of the crisis; they spoke of symptoms and exaggerated public consciousness of crisis but, in fact, general dissatisfaction was on the rise and disquiet was spreading among the population.
The formerly marginalized opposition to the regime now became more active. By the end of the 1980’s a new alternative elite emerged, strengthened by organizational and ideological affinities, one that was capable of becoming a competitor of the ruling party elites and force the latter into power sharing. This brought about a crisis of legitimacy which sooner or later was to make the complete transformation of the political system unavoidable, and it soon was to gain the support of the masses.
The deepening crisis resulted in a gradual clarification of aims and goals of the opposition and a true political pluralism began to emerge. In the process of seeking a way out of the crisis, the national democrats and the circles of the democratic opposition, those who “were thinking differently,” discovered each other. Intellectuals who were worried about the state of the country and were conscious of their social responsibility met at Monor for the first time in 1985 and discussed the conditions of the country. They voiced strong criticisms of the situation and sought a way out of the crisis. At the Monor conference all the important oppositional groups were represented, including the “generation of 1956,” (Ferenc Donáth and Miklós Vásárhelyi), the populist writers (Sándor Csoóri and István Csurka) and the democratic opposition (János Kis, János Kenedi and Miklós Szabó). They conferred with economic reformers, represented by Tamás Bauer and Mihály Laki.
The expanding limits of possibilities became known only gradually, but they were uneven and unequal in logic. After all, the existing order had still been in place and it retained and controlled all means of power and the limits of its toleration were not yet clear, nor were the influences of international factors widely known. In addition, declarations of programs by various political platforms were frequent. In 1986, a group of economists (László Antal, Lajos Bokros, István Csillag, László Lengyel and György Matolcsi) published their program, entitled Change and Reform. Their aim was to offer a solution for the economic crisis by advocating a transformation leading to the establishment of a market economy, which they considered to be the only alternative.
Political demands included emphasis on the need for the establishment of free unions, limited political pluralism and free, open, democratic public discussions. These proposals were widely debated at meetings held under the umbrella of the Patriotic People’s Front and – except of the issue of open public discussions – they were even officially published; this acted as a catalyst for further changes dealing with the proposed direction of the necessary transformation.
The democratic opposition showed liberal tendencies and adopted tactics developed by Adam Michnik in Poland. They did not openly proclaim their aim to be overthrow the existing regime; this would have meant a bloody conflict and would also have carried the danger of failure. Instead, they emphasized the need for the establishment of an autonomous civil society and limits on state powers in a democratic spirit, in order to create a state that observed human rights. These ideas were reflected in a program entitled Social Contract, issued by the editors of the semi-legal journal, Beszélő (Speaker), in the summer of 1987. They proclaimed openly for the first time that “Kádár must go,” implying that the old political elite must retire and a wide-ranging political transformation was necessary. The outlines of a new regime were presented in the form of a constitutionally limited “party-monarchy,” observing human rights, in which the Central Committee of the Hungarian [Communist] Socialist Workers Party (MSZMP) could play the role of an “upper house,” while the lower house would be elected by a free, universal, democratic franchise, and the latter would be responsible for enacting legislation. (The round-table discussions, conducted later in Poland, show similar constructions with the exception that the Communist Party was to have a guaranteed majority in the lower house. The free elections that were later held for the upper house were to bring an overwhelming victory for Solidarity.) During the following two years, the democratic opposition in Hungary has recognized the nature of the new situation and found new opportunities provided by it. Therefore, it became more radical and demanded a complete transformation of the political system, proposing a compromise in the form of a constitutional democratic parliament.
The populists exhibited special sensitivity to what they called the “vital issues of the Hungarian nation.” Their program centred on the total restoration of Hungarian sovereignty, responsibility for the fate of Hungarian minorities beyond state borders and the official recognition of total freedom of thought and literature. They did not issue a detailed program, but were the first to start a political organization. On September 27, 1987, they held a meeting over wide-ranging issues on the property of Sándor Lezsák under huge tents in which several reform-communists also participated. However, they did not invite the leadership of the ever more radicalized democratic opposition to the meeting. They created a political movement, democratic-nationalist in character, named it Hungarian Democratic Forum (Magyar Demokrata Fórum), and called for unity among progressive forces in the name of national unity. The proclamation of the new movement was published by the patron of the democratic opposition, Imre Pozsgay – at the time the first secretary of the Patriotic People’s Front, [a front organization of the communist party] – in its daily newspaper Magyar Nemzet.
In response, the leaders of the democratic opposition formed their own legal organization, the “Network of Free Initiatives” (Szabad Kezdeményezések Hálózata). This way, the first germs of Hungarian political party-formation appeared in the shape of movements organized in loose networks. Young students participating in movements organized in college divisions were the first to draw a radical conclusion, namely, that the organizations monopoly by the existing power must be broken and alternative political organizations must be established. Consequently, they created the Association of Young Democrats (FIDESZ) on March 30, 1988. (The bravery of the major organizers of the new association was shown by the fact that they were arrested and transported to the political police headquarters because there was no legal basis in the existing system for the organization of new political movements. However, they were soon released because of political pressure and fear of a scandal.) The law on associations did provide a legal avenue for the operations of social associations, but the status of political parties was not precisely established. Yet, an ever increasing wave of the formation of new political parties had begun in the second half of 1988. By the time Parliament enacted a new law of associations upon the recommendation of the government on January 10, 1989, political pluralism had already become an accomplished fact in Hungary.
By the autumn of 1989, the Association of Free Democrats (SZDSZ) was transformed into a political party and the Hungarian Democratic Forum followed its example. In the same year the historical parties also re-emerged; the Independent Smallholders Party, the Social Democratic Party and, after some delay, the Christian Democratic People’s Party, all reappeared. A pioneering role was played by trade unions and civil societies such as the Democratic Association of Scientific Workers, the Democratic League of Trade Unions (the latter to become well known during the following round-table discussions), the Independent Forum of Attorneys, the Endre Bajcsy-Zsilinszky Association and other groups.
The revival and strengthening of associations of the opposition played an important role in making the public aware of the political crisis and the necessary transformation. During their activities they contradicted and destroyed the prejudiced explanations of the recent past offered by the party state and suggested new views about past history following 1956. They offered alternatives for the solution of the economic and political crisis and for a democratic transformation of the political system. They became the catalysts for the establishment of a multi-party democracy.
One of the important characteristics of the transformation of the Hungarian political system was that political plurality could emerge already before the actual changes had taken place, and the rule of the state party was not broken by a unified movement resembling a national front. This was due to the more liberal Hungarian political atmosphere and the internal transformation of the state party. At the end the state party dissolved itself in early October, 1989, and it created a Hungarian Socialist Party (MSZP).
The fact was that the former state party, or MSZMP, itself experienced a deep crisis from the mid-1980s on. One reason for this was – in addition to the social and economic crisis – the aging leadership of the party. János Kádár and his close followers had been politically rigid and incapable of introducing the needed reforms and although they were willing to accept certain compromises, were unable to go the full length in introducing radical reforms. The party’s leaders obstructed the generation shift in the party organs at the time when such wide-ranging changes had already occurred in various spheres of social life. Reform minded politicians, such as Rezső Nyers and Imre Pozsgay were “parked” from time to time on the sidelines. However, internal struggles over the succession to Kádár brought the fight between reformers and conservatives into the open and their conflicts over the proposed political changes became public.
At the May, 1988 communist party conference János Kádár and his followers were ousted in a coup and this meant the end of the Kádár-regime that has lasted for 32 years. Károly Grósz had been elected new first secretary of the party and he simultaneously assumed the post of head of the Hungarian government. Grósz was a pragmatic party bureaucrat as far as economic reforms were concerned and he approved long-ranging reforms characteristic of a market-economy in the interest of the stabilization of the national economy. He accepted the necessity of changing property ownership relations. The so-called law on business associations (1988:VI) made it possible for the first time for state-owned companies to transform themselves into economic associations and this started a spontaneous process of privatization. However, since this process lacked public oversight, it opened the doors wide for the conversion of political into economic power; it resulted in the retention of wealth and power by the former economic and political elite. This was later sharply criticized, but contributed to the evolution of new structures of a market economy.
However, Grósz was a politically cautious conservative, who could envision only some sort of restricted pluralism. In November, 1988, he was forced to relinquish the leadership as prime minister to Miklós Németh – selected by himself as his successor – since the economic goals of the “program of consolidation” had remained unfulfilled. Grósz suffered a disastrous loss of prestige because of his meeting with the Romanian Ceausescu at Arad, where he was unsuccessful as far as desired improvements in the life of Hungarians living in Transylvania were concerned. As first secretary of the party, he spoke in the Sports Palace in Budapest in front of members of the party militia and other party members at the end of November where, in order to slow down the changes, he conjured up the dangers of a “white terror;” this was proof that he did not really understand the novelty of the unprecedented situation. In spite of his efforts, he was unable to suppress internal unrest in the party and the gradual dissolution of its organization. The offensive strategy by the reformist party leaders received internal support in a wide-ranging internal reform movement that began to emerge in 1988. At a meeting of reformists in Kecskemét in the spring of 1989, a split in the party became a possibility, but Imre Pozsgay was restrained by the uncertainty of the international situation. Rezső Nyers started a wide-ranging new fraction under the slogan of “New March Front,” in order to solve the crisis. Members left the MSZMP by the tens of thousands and simultaneous double memberships also became popular, induced by the entrance of masses of party members into the Hungarian Democratic Forum (MDF).
In the spring of 1988, Mihály Bihari, Zoltán Bíró, László Lengyel and Zoltán Király had been expelled from the MSZMP; however, in the new situation, the party could only escape forward. The memorable report of a committee headed by Pozsgay, charged with the examination of the historical past, stated that there was no counter-revolution in 1956 [as it was maintained for four decades by the Kádár regime], but a popular uprising occurred. This report started a new avalanche. It started devastating political quarrels within the MSZMP because it undermined the party’s historical legitimacy. The issue was discussed in the Central Committee; but instead of condemning Pozsgay, the meeting endorsed political pluralism and accepted the multi-party system. This was followed by the party’s abdication to meddle in the appointment of people to leading positions. The right of the various levels of party organs to appoint people to the nomenclature has been the most important means of the state party to maintain its dictatorship. Therefore, the decision clearly signalled the end of the one-party state. However, the final step had to wait for the party’s congress in October, which dissolved the MSZMP, and formed a new Hungarian Socialist Party (MSZP), made up by former members of the reform wing of the MSZMP. Members of the state party were “free” to enter the new party or remain outside it. In the course of the next few months, out of several hundred thousand former MSZMP members only about 40,000 decided to join the new party. The new MSZP no longer possessed state-party credentials; it had basically a social democratic constitution. Since the majority of the former party officials were relieved of their positions, the new party had a declining influence in the operations of the state. The ruling Németh government gradually liberated itself from control by the successor party; it was a government of experts and it became a decisive force for the change of the system. The MSZP was now simply one of many parties competing for influence in free elections.
National Round-Table Negotiations
About two weeks after the start of round-table discussions in Poland (on February 17, 1989), the Hungarian oppositional parties and associations greeted the acceptance of the multi-party system and political pluralism in Poland and recommended similar negotiations in Hungary to the leadership of the Communist party (MSZMP). They suggested that the focus should be on the division of powers and on guarantees for a peaceful transition to democracy. At first, the ruling party was reluctant to accept the proposal and would have liked to negotiate separately with each of the more important parties. The reason for this was that a public opinion survey showed that in free and democratic elections the MSZMP would have had a good chance to receive one-third of the votes, while the MDF would receive 13%, the SZDSZ 6% and the rest less than these two parties. On this basis, the ruling party had been convinced that it could succeed even in a free democratic competition among the parties. The survey also suggested that name-recognition was an important element and it could be a decisive factor in the competition for influence. Since the state party still possessed an almost complete monopoly over the various media, – in spite of the fact that its control of written media was slipping – it was time for the opposition parties to begin a struggle for the dissemination of their programs and for the acceptance of their demands for democracy.
In response to a proclamation by the Independent Forum of Jurists, the Round-Table of the Opposition (EKA) was established on March 22, 1989, with the intent of unifying the forces of the opposition. Early political pluralism, while it provided many advantages, also included the danger that the state party could divide and turn the various oppositional political organizations against each other by making separate concessions to some and denying them to others. However, the parties united in the Opposition Round Table (EKA) were aware of and recognized their common interests. The power of their unity was shown by the fact that, when the leader of the delegation of the MSZMP, György Fejti, wanted to exclude a member of EKA – to be exact, the FIDESZ – with the excuse that it was only a youth association, no one appeared for the scheduled meeting. Fejti was left alone with social associations closely allied with the MSZMP. These later became a third party at the negotiations.
In the meantime, the political atmosphere has fundamentally changed in the country. Demonstrations by the opposition multiplied, open disputes became more frequent and the media began reporting more and more often about the efforts of the opposition. Time was now getting closer to June 16, the appointed date for the reburial of Imre Nagy and his fellow martyrs of 1956, a date agreed upon by the government and the Committee on Historical Memories. This was a cathartic event, ending a decades-long historical amnesia and it was broadcasted on TV. Less than three weeks later, after Imre Nagy was officially rehabilitated and on July 6, János Kádár died. Tens of thousands attended the latter’s wake, and an entire age was buried with him.
These events provided the background for the round-table negotiations that began, after long discussions on June 13, 1989, and were conducted between the delegation of the state party and social organizations belonging to the “third side.” At stake were a peaceful transition to a parliamentary democracy and preparation of the outlines of a consensus-based new constitutional order. The consensus included the suspension of reform legislation by parliament (already at an advanced stage) and an agreement according to which the national legislative body should enact the pivotal laws without any change only after the conclusions of negotiations. The participation of the “third side” in the negotiations and the inclusion of economic issues in the round-table discussions were concession made by the EKA (the Oppositional Round Table), as were the negotiations without public participation. They also agreed that the concluding solemn act should be open to the public. In the end, the negotiations concerning economic and social matters did not bring about appropriate agreements. The EKA was not interested in these issues because it did not want to assume any responsibility for the threatening social and economic bankruptcy on the one hand, and on the other, wanted freedom later for enacting the necessary economic measures. The true stake at the negotiations was, therefore, coming to an agreement to create conditions for a peaceful political change and the establishment of foundations for a new political order. The negotiations were conducted by various sub-committees and concentrated on the following issues;
1. The modification of the constitution which included the definition of the form of the state [People’s Democracy or People’s Republic versus just plain Hungarian Republic], the system of governance and the system of civil rights for the citizens. Serious disagreements emerged over the proposed role and methods of election of the head of state. Agreement was finally reached, according to which the Hungarian state will be a parliamentary democracy, not a presidential one. The disputes around the latter centred on the issue of a weak presidency, the office holder to be chosen by direct elections and having strong legitimacy, and about and the timing of the election. The MSZMP preferred (in the interest of the political stability of the country) a weak president with strong legitimacy to be elected by the people even before parliamentary elections were to be held. However, the representatives of EKA were worried that a president of the republic, elected for the time of transition, would acquire a strong position similar to the Polish president and would distort the political competition at the expense of the opposition. The MDF, therefore, advanced the proposal that the first president should be elected by popular vote one time only. The dispute has continued throughout the negotiations and was one of the reasons for the delay of an agreement.
2. The legal regulation of the activities of the political parties. This was considered necessary because, following a dictatorship, it seemed necessary to create a neutral state (on the German model) and that the constitution should include guarantees against the establishment of a political monopoly.
3. The other issue concerned the creation of the laws for national elections. In view of the approaching free elections, this was one of the most exciting problems, because it forced the various parties to prove their support among the voters. The choice of the method of elections was, therefore, a risky business. The historical parties supported a proportional electoral system, that is, a system based on blocks of votes, while the SZDSZ and – for a different reason to be sure – the MSZMP also proposed a system based on individual electoral districts, or one in which majority votes would decide the winners. Finally, the currently existing mixed system was accepted at the proposal of the MDF, one that unifies the advantages and reduces the disadvantages of both proposals.
4. The regulations of practices concerning criminal justice and their principles had to be reviewed. This was necessary for the purpose of ending the criminalization of certain political activity, including the abolition of penalties for “excitement” and illegal crossing of the borders, as well as criminal penalties for political activity by any groups. At the same time, the violent conquest of state power was made a criminal act.
5. The issue of the openness of the public media was also considered. There was no agreement on these and disagreements later resulted in a “war” over the control of the media.
6. Guarantees for a peaceful transition also generated serious disagreements. There was no agreement about the supervision of the organs of state security and about the disarmament of the workers’ militia.
The negotiations were disrupted for a while by the MSZMP. However, the transformation within the party favouring the reformist wing, brought about a collective leadership of four persons (Imre Pozsgay, Rezső Nyers, Miklós Németh and Károly Grósz) and this resulted in the taking up of the negotiations under the leadership of Pozsgay.
The conclusion of the round-table negotiations was not free of dramatic events. The unity of the Opposition Round Table disintegrated. Five participating organizations concluded that, in spite of the continuing disagreements over some issues, the agreements already reached should not be jeopardized and wanted to close the negotiations. The FIDESZ, the SZDSZ and the Democratic League of Free Trade Unions, however, asserted that, as long as four important issues were unresolved, including the dissolution of the workers’ militia, the early election of the president of the republic, the accounting by the MSZMP over its properties, and the removal of party cells from the workplace, they could not agree to the compromises. Their solution was to openly declare their position concerning these issues on TV at the solemn closing ceremonies of the negotiations on September 18, 1989; they stated that they will not sign the agreements but would not veto the signing by the other parties and will not prevent their enactment. They also stated that they will begin collecting signatures for a public referendum for the resolution of the issues in question.
This was a sudden, unexpected change and it has been causing conflicting interpretations ever since. Some of the participants in the negotiations accused the “refusniks” of being free riders, while the leaders of the state party proclaimed them radicals incapable of compromise. The representatives of the Social Democratic Party signed the document with reservations and such a solution was available for the other two parties as well. The two liberal parties wanted, in all probability, to prevent the conclusion of a suspected pact between the MDF and the newly formed MSZP that would have resulted in the election of Imre Pozsgay to the presidency of the Republic and would have reduced their chances in the coming elections. Instead, they collected signatures in public places, intending to mobilize their voters for a referendum using the slogan that the “people” should decide the issues which could not be agreed upon by the round-table negotiations. Subsequently, resulting from the accelerating political changes, the “government of experts” headed by Miklós Németh, becoming increasingly independent of the successor party, managed to solve three of the open issues with the exception of the election of the president of the Republic, thus making some concession to the opposition. In spite of this, the public referendum was held as scheduled for the “four questions,” regardless of the fact that three of the original questions had already been resolved by parliamentary action. The MDF boycotted the referendum while the Social Democratic and the Smallholders parties eventually joined the protesters. The referendum passed by a minimal 6,101 votes in favour with 55% participation by the electorate.
The referendum was obviously a preliminary “sable rattling” before the election campaign and its originators considered it a measure of the power relations between the supporters and opponents of the old regime. Formerly little known parties achieved public exposure through it and their leaders could participate in the campaign leading up to the spring elections with nation-wide recognition. Undoubtedly, they were proved correct in instigating the referendum and this would be so even if they lost it through better tactics on the part of their opponents. At the same time, they had to pay a price for their success; by obstructing the solemn signing of the round-table agreement, they prevented its becoming the founding symbol for the new Hungarian Republic. This fact contributed to the weak legitimacy of the republic in the mind of the electorate. Of course, responsibility rests with both sides for missing a consensus.
Yet, the negotiations at the national round-table had been the most important instrument of peaceful transition. They created the legal outlines of the new system and during the discussions politicians emerged who were to become important figures in the process of transformation, including László Sólyom, József Antall, György Szabad, Péter Tölgyessy, Viktor Orbán and others. Yet in spite of its exceptional political significance, as a consequence of the disagreements, it could not achieve such a symbolic significance as comparable institutions did elsewhere in Eastern Europe. The necessary minimal consensus of the new order was unfortunately burdened by the early appearance of fierce competition of political parties, and the parallel nature of the two processes foreshadowed future conflicts within Hungarian democracy, instead of creating an understanding among the political protagonists.
The final judicial shape of the so-called fundamental laws, accepted during the round-table negotiations, had been crafted by officials of the Németh government and, as the crowning achievement of the reforms of the constitutional process, parliament quickly enacted them during the following weeks. The peculiar fact was that the last parliamentary session, considered illegitimate by the opposition, had laid the foundations of Hungarian parliamentary democracy.
The most important act was the enactment of the new, modified constitution by parliament. Hungary thus became a republic, without a preamble. The constitution guaranteed the rights of citizens, protected the multi-party system with guarantees and prohibited the establishment of central control and the monopoly of power by any single party. It set up a mixed economic system and proclaimed the equality of private property; it supported freedom of religion and of economic competition. It restored the primacy of parliament as representative of the people and ordered the creation of a government responsible to parliament. It established a Constitutional Court in order to ensure strict observation of the constitution, strengthening thereby the principle of the division of powers. At the same time, a law was enacted regulating the election of parliamentary deputies and modifying the criminal code in line with the recommendations of the round-table resolution. Paragraph No. 6 of the constitution created a National Office of the General Comptroller of Accounts.
The new constitution paid tribute to the memory of the Revolution of 1956 by becoming effective on October 23, 1989, and Mátyás Szűrös, as temporary president of parliament, proclaimed the establishment of the Hungarian Republic from the balcony of the House of Parliament.
As far as issues remaining unsettled in the round-table negations were concerned, the Németh-government submitted a law for the dissolution of the workers militia as well as Act no. XXXIII dealing with the activities of political parties, and both were enacted on October 30, 1989. The latter prohibited party activities in the workplace as illegal. The new MSZP created at the last congress of the MSZMP on October 7 and 8 started winding up its legacy, dismantled the party apparatuses and accounted for its properties. As far as the date for electing the President of the Republic was concerned, the referendum of “four yeses” had decided this issue together with the other three “yeses” which had become irrelevant in the meantime. Nevertheless, it served the purpose of emotional mobilization. The government recognized the result of the referendum and postponed the elections for the president after the first general elections. Since the respective question in the referendum did not define the method of the presidential election and dealt only with its timing, the last reform parliament enacted a law for the election of the president through a referendum, only to be annulled by the subsequent parliamentary session.
Preparations for the General Elections
The multiple events of the transformation of the political system were characterized by a series of reforms introduced by the Németh government on the one hand and preparations for the coming general elections on the other. The second Németh government, formed on May 10, 1989, which included the appointment of other reform-minded ministers such as Ferenc Glatz, László Békesi, Gyula Horn, made important decisions concerning internal and foreign policies. This raised strong echoes in national and international public opinion.
Among the important international initiatives was the opening of Hungary’s borders to the West for East German refugees and the beginning of negotiations for the withdrawal of Soviet troops from the country. Hungary also applied for admission to the Council of Europe. Among changes in internal policies, the easing of restrictions on foreign travel must be mentioned (by increasing the amount of foreign currencies that could be taken out of the country), improvements in educational policies, (abolition of compulsory of Russian language studies and the retraining of language teachers). The government also re-examined state policies toward religious denominations by abolishing previous restrictive orders. All the latter decisions were introduced by Minister of Education and Culture, Ferenc Glatz.
Preparations for the new constitution were speeded up by Minister of Justice Kálmán Kulcsár, who was also instrumental in introducing in parliament a new law on associations, providing the legal basis for the emerging political pluralism. In the economic sphere, thanks to the reforms of 1989 large scale privatization was taking place spontaneously in the country, generating a great deal of criticism. Public opinion was shocked by scandals, especially when corruption, touching on the former state party was uncovered. On the whole, however, the “Act on transformation” resulted in the rapid restoration of principles of private property followed by the emergence of private enterprise separating itself from the state-controlled economy.
The referendum of “four yeses” conducted in the fall became part of the election campaign which officially was to begin somewhat later, but the end of the year witnessed preparations for the coming political struggles. The so-called “Danube-gate” scandal was part and parcel of this process during which the opposition learned about the destruction of the files of state security organs. Investigations revealed that the state security organs – concerning which, unfortunately, no agreement was reached during the round-table negotiations – conducted further observations of the oppositional parties, providing information about them to the government and the MSZP, which was an open violation of the principles of free political competition. When the scandal broke, the Minister of the Interior, István Horváth, resigned. The scandal damaged the electoral chances of the socialist successor party seriously, at least as much as the fact that the entire East European “domino” fell by the end of the year. This event significantly reduced the MSZP’s merits earned by compromising and pushing for the transformation of the political system.
The electoral campaign was harsh and loud, since the new political parties had gained for the first time, an opportunity to publicize themselves and their goals amidst sharp political competition. The basic tone of the campaign soon became anti-communist, which was quite understandable after four decades of unrestricted communist rule. Besides the liberal and national democratic platforms, all sorts of previously forbidden political opinions, condemned earlier as “reactionary”, gained publicity, including often anachronistic “legitimist” [supporting former royal government] voices. The campaign was not free of political demagoguery and hysterics. The slogan for a “spring cleaning” appeared proposing a settlement of accounts and frightening a great many people. Fearing mass-firings on a political basis, professionals fled en mass from the governing institutions. József Antall had to exercise his considerable influence in order to end, or at least reduce, this tendency threatening the operations of the new government. Under existing conditions, an electoral slogan issued by the MDF about a “calm authority” influenced the masses of citizens who feared political reprisals and improved the electoral chances of the party. In spite of the sharp election campaign, no serious incident disrupted the process.
The first free parliamentary elections were held in two rounds, the first on March 22 and the second on April 8, 1990. Among the several dozens of registered parties only 12 had been able to run nation-wide lists of candidates and, as the result of the 4% curb for entrance to parliament, and only six parties gained parliamentary representation. After four decades of one-party rule, a real multi-party parliament came into being. The winner of the greatest number of representatives was the Hungarian Democratic Forum (MDF); it was able to form a government in coalition with the Smallholder- and the Christian Democratic People’s parties, possessing a total of 60% of all representatives. This meant a stable majority for the government but was insufficient for the amendment of the constitution. The operations of the new government were made considerably more difficult by the compromises and restrictions included in the agreements of the autumn of 1989.
The new parliament held its solemn inaugural meeting on May 2, 1990. The president of the parliamentary session of 1945-1947, Béla Varga, gave the opening address, signalling a return to the spirit of the Republic of 1946. The meeting elected Árpád Göncz president of parliament and he entrusted the formation of the new government to József Antall. There was an announcement of an agreement between the MDF and the largest party in opposition, the SZDSZ, for constitutional amendment. Since this agreement was concluded in negotiations to which the other rival parties (and even most of the leadership of their own organizations) were uninvited, it was widely criticized and the agreement became known by the somewhat pejorative notion of “MDF-SZDSZ pact.”
In order to gain stability for the governing process, previous agreements over the framework of public law had been significantly altered. The system of government was moved toward the Austrian and German systems, granting considerable powers to the head of government, limiting the responsibility of ministers and introducing a “principle of the motion of no-confidence” that made the removal of the government difficult. The status of the president of the Republic was also modified in the spirit of law No. 1, 1946. Accordingly, the president’s powers were reduced and the person was to be elected by parliament. Finally, the agreement reduced the number of parliamentary decisions requiring qualified two-third majorities. The concept of decrees with constitutional validity was abolished and it was precisely defined which acts continued to require two-third majorities of the representatives. The price of the compromise was the right granted to the largest oppositional party, the SZDSZ, to recommend the person for the presidency of the Republic and agreement was reached that the person should be Árpád Göncz. Another aspect of the compromise was a guarantee given by both parties, namely, that all media should be independent. This was to provide a source of conflict for the entire future period of the Republic.
Despite all the criticism of the pact (raised by the parties not participating in it), the agreements were necessary for providing conditions for a stable government under political conditions that were still unstable and promised a great many future conflicts. The new government faced tremendous challenges. The agreements of the two parties having the largest representation were gradually incorporated into laws by the new parliament. This process introduced the second phase of the constitutional engineering, adding new elements to the basic law.
The government headed by József Antall was sworn in on May 23 by parliament. The election of Árpád Göncz to the presidency of the Republic had to wait because a socialist representative, Zoltán Király, initiated a public referendum over the issue of electing the president by direct popular vote. Although the MSZP succeeded in obtaining the necessary number of votes for the referendum and it was indeed held, it was not valid because of low voter turnout. Consequently, parliament elected and installed Árpád Göncz in the office by a large majority; until then, however, he was acting as president of parliament only.
The Completion of the Constitutional Process
The summer of 1990 was loud of disputes over legislation. The deputies argued long over the new shield of the Republic, which ended with a majority vote for the arms of the nation with a small crown. The legal standing and the incompatibility principles and compensation of representatives were regulated. The modified constitution included greater emphasis on human rights, a definition of the rights of national minorities and the creation of the office of a parliamentary ombudsman.
The second round for the amendment of the constitution was concluded by the enactment of a set of laws for the operation of autonomous local governments. This also generated serious disagreements. Autonomous local governments became a right for all citizens; the constitutions stated that “citizens govern themselves by autonomous governments through representatives elected by them, and by elections to be conducted locally.” Local elections were held in the autumn of 1990 and over 3,000 communities formed autonomous institutions. The local councils had therefore been replaced by a system of decentralized autonomous governments. The decisive stage of the transformation of the political system was thereby concluded.
An important characteristic of the Hungarian transformation of the political system had been the fact that the decisive role was played by politicized, active elites and not by the masses of citizens. In the needed reforms of the legal code, this could not have happened otherwise. Yet, there was no mass pressure behind the political changes as it had happened in some other East European countries, where political pluralism was the result of the crystallization of mass movements. The difference was due partly to a somewhat more relaxed political culture in Hungary, and partly to the peculiar nature of the Kádár regime, that encouraged private citizenship in place of citizen participation in the political process. Naturally, “mass demonstration by smiling people” (Kukorelli), had indeed taken place, such as the one in Heroes’ Square against the destruction of villages in Romania, marches against building a dam on the Danube River at Nagymaros, or the ever larger masses marching in demonstrations on March 15 commemorating the outbreak of the Revolution of 1848. The reburial of the martyrs of 1956 had, however, a cathartic effect on June 16. It was broadcasted by television and represented the final demise of the legitimacy of the Kádár regime. It was also the preparation of public opinion for the coming unavoidable changes. Open political disputations and the dynamics of political reforms excited public opinion, informing the people that an age had finally come to an undisputable end and the outlines of a new world were being drawn. The old regime had reached a dead end and its lies about life lost whatever value they had. Ever widening circles of public opinion have come to support the change of the system, hoping that it would take place peacefully and that it would lead to a better future; but they did not possess a clear view of the nature of the coming changes, their directions and their social consequences. In fact, they could not gain such information from the disputes by various groups of the political elites either.
During the first phase of the transformation of the political system, the task was accomplished by the creation of a framework for the “techniques of freedom” and this process had an exceptionally liberating influence. People naturally expected that the creation of a Western-style political democracy would bring about not only political freedom but the liberation from social and economic miseries and ensure greater prosperity. Only a few people foresaw the sacrifices required for backing out of the dead end and returning to a market economy under conditions of a globalizing capitalist system, and the losses that this process entailed. Future social and economic conflicts accompanying the changes were as yet shrouded by happy ignorance and this undoubtedly made the completion of political change rapid and peaceful.
Naturally, the relative passivity of the masses was gladly accepted by the political elites. After all, this reduced the possible danger of the emergence of new forces from the mass movements who would reject the rules already developed by the elite groups (János Kiss). The political parties that were soon included in the new system considered the activities of the emerging civil societies as all too confusing and attempted to bring them under their control. They attempted to disarm, not to mobilize, the masses. However, this was to become part of the contradictions of the newly developed Hungarian democracy.
Begegnungen22_Arburg
Begegnungen
Schriftenreihe des Europa Institutes Budapest, Band 22:225–233.
ADRIAN VON ARBURG
Das dreimalige Scheitern einer Deportation
Magyaren aus der Südslowakei in den böhmischen Grenzgebieten (1945-1949)
Um den Bevölkerungsverlust von fast drei Millionen verschwundenen Deutschen wettzumachen, wurden deren Heimatgebiete in den ersten Nachkriegsjahren neu besiedelt. Zwei Millionen Menschen begaben sich in die Randgebiete des heutigen Tschechiens, um ihr Glück zu versuchen – jeder vierte Tscheche. Diese größte Binnenmigration der böhmischen Geschichte lief grundsätzlich freiwillig ab. Mit einer Ausnahme: Der Verschleppung von über 40 000 südslowakischen Magyaren nach Böhmen.
Im nordwestböhmischen Teplitz (Teplice), wenige Kilometer von der sächsischen Grenze, begegneten sich am 23. Juli 1947 im örtlichen Fußballstadion zwei Mannschaften zu einem Freundschaftsspiel. Die einheimische Elf maß sich mit dem Sportklub Kispest-Budapest. Die Zuschauerränge waren fast ausnahmslos besetzt. Nach einigen umstrittenen Anweisungen des Schiedsrichters jedoch begann sich unter den Zuschauern Urruhe breit zu machen. Aus den Reihen des „einheimischen” Teplitzer Publikums schallten alsbald nicht mehr abklingen wollende Anfeuerungsrufe für die Budapester Spieler – auf Ungarisch. Die sich in der Minderheit befindlichen tschechischen Besucher des Spiels reagierten verbittert, die Spieler des Teplitzer Lokalklubs wohl auch.
Kaum ein Zuschauer war für dieses Spiel direkt aus Budapest herangereist Die meisten Besucher rekrutierten sich aus Teplitz und Umgebung. Trotzdem, so stellt der einschlägige Gendarmerie-Bericht fest, stammte der Grossteil der Zuschauer ursprünglich aus der Slowakei, aus Ungarn oder der Karpatoukraine und lebte erst seit kurzer Zeit in Nordwestböhmen. Es handelte sich um meist magyarischstämmige oder magyarisierte „Reslowakisierte” und vor allem südslowakische Magyaren, die zum großen Unmut des anwesenden Gendarmen untereinander nur ungarisch sprachen.
Die unliebsame Minderheit
Anfang August 1945 billigten die Kriegsalliierten in Potsdam die Aussiedlung der Deutschen aus der Tschechoslowakei, dem künftigen polnischen Hoheitsgebiet und Ungarn. Die Aussiedlung der slowakischen Magyaren war nicht Bestandteil des Potsdamer Abkommens – eine herbe Enttäuschung für Prag, das sich nach Kriegsende 1945 nebst der deutschen auch der magyarischen Volksgruppe zu entledigen trachtete. In der Slowakei lebten immerhin rund 600 000 einheimische Magyaren, die vor dem Krieg fast 20% der gesamten slowakischen Bevölkerung gestellt hatten. Bis 1950 gelang es zwar, die Stärke der magyarischen Minderheit durch Auswanderung, Vertreibung, „Reslowakisierung” (Änderung der ethnischen Zugehörigkeit von sich früher als Magyaren gemeldeten Bürgern) und einem Bevölkerungsaustauschabkommen mit Ungarn auf rund 10% zu verringern, doch die ersehnte Lösung des „magyarischen Problems”, wie Prager und Pressburger Kreise es analog zur Massenausweisung der deutschen Volksgruppe anstrebten, wurde damit nicht erreicht.
Dieser Beitrag berichtet von Maßnahmen, die das „magyarische Problem” in der Südslowakei in den ersten Nachkriegsjahren mitlösen sollten, jedoch am Ende nicht nur gescheitert sind, sondern das slowakisch-magyarische Verhältnis innerhalb der Slowakei auf lange Sicht verschärften. Nachdem die Kriegsalliierten in Potsdam Prags Hoffnung auf eine international abgesegnete Aussiedlung der Magyaren zerstört hatten, versuchte die -Tschechoslowakei die Frage bilateral mit Budapest zu lösen. Bereits im Februar 1946 kam es so zur Unterzeichnung eines Bevölkerungsaustauschabkommens zwischen den beiden Staaten, das die reziproke Umsiedlung von ungarischen Slowaken bzw. slowakischen Magyaren in das jeweilige „Mutterland” vorsah. Auch dieses allerdings reichte nicht aus, um sich der Mehrheit der autochthonen Magyaren entledigen zu können, hatten sich doch in Ungarn weniger als 100 000 slowakischstämmige Rückkehrwillige gemeldet. Dies bedeutete, dass die tschechoslowakische Seite nicht berechtigt war, eine höhere Zahl von Magyaren nach Ungarn auszusiedeln. Zudem wurde die praktische Realisierung des Abkommens von Budapest lange hinausgezögert, womit die tschechoslowakische Regierung immer mehr zu binnenstaatlichen Maßnahmen zwecks Dezimierung des magyarischen Elements in der Slowakei tendierte.
Geburt eines Gedanken
Im Zuge der Flucht, Vertreibung und Aussiedlung von rund drei Millionen einheimischer Deutschen aus den böhmischen Ländern erlebte der westliche Landesteil der Tschechoslowakei einen beispiellosen Bevölkerungsrückgang. Die Grenzgebiete, wo bis anhin die Deutschen konzentriert siedelten, brauchten zügig neu besiedelt zu werden, sollte deren ökonomische und nicht zuletzt auch strategische Bedeutung aufrechterhalten werden. Die Kolonisierung der ehemaligen sudetendeutschen Heimatgebiete – v. a. durch Tschechen aus dem Landesinnern, aber auch durch tschechische und slowakische „Reemigranten” aus dem Ausland und andere ethnische Gruppen – lief parallel zur Abschiebung der Deutschen ab und war wie diese bereits gegen Jahresende 1946 als Massenprozess abgeschlossen. Von Mai 1945 bis 1950 machten sich rund zwei Millionen Siedler auf, die Plätze der Deutschen einzunehmen. Grundsätzlich besaß dieser gewaltige Migrationsprozess freiwilligen Charakter. Da der Staat mit der preisgünstigen Vergabe von konfiszierten sudetendeutschen Besitzungen (Häuser, landwirtschaftliche Anwesen, bewegliche Güter) winkte, kann dies nicht erstaunen. So ergriff durchschnittlich jeder vierte Tscheche aus freien Stücken die Gelegenheit, sich in den Grenzgebieten eine neue Existenz aufzubauen.
Trotzdem erwies sich das tschechische Landesinnere als ein zu kleines Bevölkerungsreservoir, um die Grenzgebiete gleichmäßig wiederzubesiedeln. Ausgedehnte Gebiete in höheren Lagen, so in West- und Südböhmen, blieben halbwegs entvölkert. Gerade in Berufen, die einen hohen manuellen Arbeitseinsatz erforderten, zeitigte sich alsbald ein alarmierender Arbeitskräftemangel. Dies traf besonders – aber nicht nur – für den land- und forstwirtschaftlichen Sektor zu. Zehntausende von Arbeitskräften fehlten. Wo diese hernehmen? Zum Beispiel aus der Südslowakei.
Die Existenz einer durch verschiedene Präsidentendekrete des Jahres 1945 ausgebürgerten, entrechteten und enteigneten, kompakt siedelnden und unliebsamen Bevölkerungsgruppe und der akute Arbeitskräftemangel in den böhmischen Ländern ließen die tschechoslowakische Regierung schließlich aus der Not eine Tugend machen. Durch Verbringung eines großen Teils der slowakischen Magyaren in die Grenzgebiete der böhmischen Länder sollten zwei Fliegen mit einer Klappe geschlagen werden.
Beginn der Deportationen 1945
Von Herbst 1945 bis Ende 1947 gelangten aus der Slowakei in verschiedenen Wellen wohl über 60 000 Magyaren in die böhmischen Länder, mehrheitlich ins böhmische Grenzgebiet. Dabei war ein freiwilliger Wegzug zum Arbeitseinsatz die Ausnahme. Die überwiegende Zahl der Magyaren – nach amtlichen Angaben 44 129 Personen – wurde im Verlauf der Deportationsaktion vom 19. November 1946 bis zum 22. Februar 1947 in einem unüblich strengen Winter in den westlichen Landesteil verbracht. Eine weitere Zwangsdeportation („Aktion Süd”), die zahlenmäßig weit weniger (unter 1 000) Teilnehmer umfassen sollte, wurde 1949 kurz vor ihrem Beginn jäh abgebrochen.
Schon im Sommer 1945 arbeitete die Prager Regierung Pläne für einen Arbeitseinsatz von slowakischen Magyaren in den Grenzgebieten aus. Die gesetzliche Grundlage gaben zwei Präsidentendekrete ab, die alle Bewohner der Tschechoslowakei der Arbeitspflicht unterstellen konnten. Auf Geheiß der Prager Regierung wies die Landesregierung der Slowakei Anfang November 1945 das Pressburger Besiedlungsamt an, Pläne für eine Anwerbungsaktion von slowakischen Magyaren auszuarbeiten. Die mit verschiedenen Ministerien abgestimmten Pläne sahen schließlich die „Anwerbung” von 120 000–140 000 Magyaren vor, an deren Stelle in der Südslowakei ca. 200 000 slowakische Kolonisten treten sollten. Tatsächlich lief vom 23. Oktober bis Mitte November 1945 die erste Zwangsdeportation magyarischer Personen ab. Ihr Ziel war die Verbringung von rund 30 000 Magyaren in die historischen Länder. Auf Veranlassung des Außenministeriums wurde das Unterfangen jedoch abrupt abgebrochen, was zur Folge hatte, dass bisher nur 9 400 Magyaren in die böhmischen Länder verbracht werden konnten (nach anderen Angaben: 12 000). Zwei Drittel von ihnen kehrten noch vor Weihnachten 1945 wieder in die Südslowakei zurück. Die Aktion endete vollends als Misserfolg.
Ab Frühling 1946 bestand auch für slowakische Magyaren, u.a. im Rahmen der Anwerbungsaktion „Hilfe der Slowakei für die böhmischen Länder”, die Möglichkeit, freiwillig als Hilfsarbeiter in die Grenzgebiete zu übersiedeln. Das Prager Landwirtschaftsministerium erhoffte sich von der Aktion die Anwerbung von wenigstens 100 000 Individuen, vorwiegend Magyaren. Doch auch diese Aktion erreichte ganz und gar nicht die erhofften Erwartungen: Zwar meldeten sich fast 200 000 Slowaken, doch nicht einmal 2 000 Magyaren.
99 Tage. Die Flatotwelle der Deportationen im Winter 1946/47
Anfang August 1946 ereignete sich in Pressburg eine Beratung von tschechischen und slowakischen Behörden, auf der beschlossen wurde, dass von nun an zwecks Anwerbung von Arbeitskräften die Zwangsvorschriften von Dekret Nr. 88/1945 angewendet werden sollten. Die Prager Regierung billigte den Zwangseinsatz von magyarischen Arbeitern in Böhmen und Mähren im Oktober 1946. Der slowakische Rat der Beauftragten gab sein Einverständnis am 22. November 1946. Schon ab dem 19. November allerdings hatten Organe der Bezirksarbeitsämter zusammen mit Polizei- und Militäreinheiten unter der Leitung des Pressburger Besiedlungsamtes bzw. des Ministeriums für Sozialfürsorge damit begonnen, magyarische Bewohner der Südslowakei per Lastkraftwagen zur nächsten Eisenbahnstation zu befördern und unter Bewachung in den tschechischen Landesteil zu schicken. Die Aktion hatte planmäßigen Charakter und die Namen der betroffenen Familien befanden sich auf vorgefertigten Listen. Faktisch bestand keine Berufungsmöglichkeit. Beweglicher Besitz konnte, soweit es die Transportkapazitäten per Bahn erlaubten, mitgeführt werden, jedoch kein lebendes Inventar. Ausgenommen von der langsam ostwärts schreitenden Aktion, die semi-militärischen Charakter besaß, waren Magyaren, die bereits für den mit Ungarn vereinbarten Bevölkerungsaustausch angemeldet waren, bereits „Reslowakisierte” sowie Personen, über deren Gesuch um Erhalt der tschechoslowakischen Staatsbürgerschaft noch nicht entschieden war. Nach internen Statistiken der Sicherheitsdienste wurde ein großer Anteil Magyaren aus gesundheitlichen oder anderen Gründen von der Aktion ausgeschlossen oder war vor dem Abtransport geflüchtet. Arbeitseinsätze gemäß Dekret Nr. 88/1945 waren zeitlich auf maximal 1 1/2 Jahre begrenzt. Offensichtlich rechnete Prag aber nicht mit der Rückkehr der Deportierten und gedachte diese dauernd als Arbeitskräfte einzusetzen, was klar den gesetzlichen Vorschriften widersprach. Auf deren Gütern wurden sogenannte „Vertraute” eingesetzt, selber sozial niedrigen Schichten entstammend und nicht selten ebenfalls Umgesiedelte (entweder aus der Karpatoukraine oder aus Ungarn), die meist auf endgültige Eigentumszuteilung des ihnen anvertrauten Besitzes hofften. Die Regierung versprach sich von der Deportation einer großen Anzahl Magyaren in die böhmischen Länder die schleichende Assimilation der Betroffenen im tschechisch dominierten Siedlungsgebiet. Die Deportationsmaßnahmen verfolgten dazu auch ein wichtiges außenpolitisches Ziel, nämlich Druck auszuüben auf die ungarische Regierung, die – wohl aus der Hoffnung, auf der bevorstehenden Pariser Friedenskonferenz könne ihr die einst abgetretene Südslowakei wieder zugeteilt werden – das im Februar 1946 bereits unterzeichnete Bevölkerungsaustauschabkommen sabotierte. Der Pressekrieg zwischen Prag und Pressburg einerseits, und Budapest andererseits brach umgehend aus. Auf tschechoslowakischer Seite konnte von kritischer Berichterstattung kaum die Rede sein, die Meldungen in dieser Frage waren zentral gesteuert und gaukelten der Öffentlichkeit idyllische Zustände vor, die kaum jemals der Wirklichkeit entsprachen (so die Behauptung, der größte Teil der „umgesiedelten” Magyaren hätte sich freiwillig gemeldet und sei mit den Lebensverhältnissen in Böhmen zufrieden). Ungarische Presseberichte – teils wahrheitsgetreue, teils übertriebene – waren es schließlich, die die tschechoslowakischen Deportationsmaßnahmen weltweit medial bekannt machten und sie – auf Druck der Vereinigten Staaten, von Großbritannien, und nach kritischen Pressekommentaren in den internationalen Gazetten – am 22. Februar 1947 auch beendeten. Bereits durch die Parteispitzen der tschechischen und slowakischen Kommunisten verabschiedete Pläne zur Arbeitsmobilisierung von sage und schreibe 250 000 slowakischen Magyaren mussten damit vorerst aufs Eis gelegt werden.
Die meisten der Deportierten waren nicht Angehörige vermögender Schichten, sondern Kleinbauern, Kleingewerbler oder noch ärmere Hilfsarbeiter. Die Deportierten bestanden meist aus ganzen Familien, von denen insgesamt 9 610 verschleppt wurden (nach anderen Quellen 11 764). Freiwillig in die böhmischen Länder begaben sich angeblich 2 489 Personen magyarischer Nationalität. Praktisch unlösbare Zustände ergaben sich aus der Tatsache, dass die Deportierten in zahlreichen belegten Fällen auf eigene Faust wieder in die Südslowakei zurückkehrten, wo sie ihre Besitzungen aber meist schon von einem „Vertrauten” verwaltet sahen. Sie versteckten sich darum bei Bekannten und führten ein Schattendasein oder flüchteten weiter nach Ungarn. Die Einstellung der Zwangsdeportationen bedeutete nicht, dass für die bereits Verschickten die Arbeitspflicht am Einsatzort geendet hatte. In die Slowakei Zurückgeflüchtete wurden erbarmungslos wieder zurückgeschickt, falls sie gefasst wurden. Ende 1947 arbeiteten in Böhmen 37 778 Magyaren, in Mähren-Schlesien 6 351 Personen. Bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt waren bereits 3 184 Magyaren aus ihrem Arbeitsort entwichen (nach anderen Angaben: 15 000). Im Dezember 1947 wurden in den böhmischen Ländern insgesamt 48 425 magyarische Arbeiter registriert. Nach Erlangung des kommunistischen Machtmonopols in Prag im Februar 1948 und der zügigen „Normalisierung” der Beziehungen mit Budapest setzte die individuelle Rückkehr von Magyaren in die Südslowakei im großen Stil ein. Im Oktober wurde – in Abstimmung mit der Budapester Parteiführung – den meisten Magyaren wieder die tschechoslowakische Staatsbürgerschaft zwangsverliehen. Wenigstens auf dem Papier wurden die tschechoslowakischen Magyaren erneut zu gleichberechtigten Bürgern. Anfang März 1948 hatte die Regierung noch beschlossen, die Rückeinbürgerung abhängig zu machen von der Verpflichtung, mindestens drei weitere Jahre in den Grenzgebieten zu verweilen. Diese Möglichkeit hatten nur sehr wenige Magyaren wahrgenommen. Bis Oktober 1948 waren etwa 17 000 Arbeitseingesetzte aus den böhmischen Ländern zurückgekehrt. Dort verblieben zu diesem Zeitpunkt immerhin noch 27 200 Personen. Im November 1948 sank die entsprechende Zahl auf 23 606 Personen. Am 7. Januar 1949 begann schließlich der staatlich organisierte Rücktransport der Deportierten und hielt bis zum 15. April an. Streitigkeiten zwischen den Rückgekehrten und den auf ihren früheren Anwesen ansässigen „Vertrauten” dauerten noch jahrelang an. In den meisten Fällen bekamen die angestammten magyarischen Eigentümer ihr Besitztum zurück. Oft war es vorgekommen, dass „Vertraute” den freiwilligen Wegzug vom zugeteilten Gut einem schlechten Gewissen vorgezogen hatten.
Repression ohne Erfolg
Der zweite Versuch, sich der magyarischen Minderheit in der Slowakei per Zwangsverschickung in den westlichen Landesteil zu entledigen, war nach 99 Tagen noch kläglicher als der erste im Herbst 1945 misslungen. Überhaupt scheiterten alle Maßnahmen, die die Prager Regierung von 1945 bis 1949 bezüglich der unerwünschten magyarischen Minderheit ergriffen hatte: Neben den Zwangsdeportationen die freiwillige Anwerbung von Magyaren in die böhmischen Länder, die von den Alliierten weder in Potsdam noch im Pariser Friedensvertrag vom 10. Februar 1947 sanktionierte einseitige Aussiedlung derselben, der Bevölkerungsaustausch mit Ungarn, der die in ihn gesetzten Erwartungen nicht erfüllte, und schließlich auch die Reslowakisierungen, denn bereits ab den 1950er Jahren kehrten weit über 100 000 Reslowakisierte wieder zu ihrem angestammten magyarischen Bekenntnis zurück. Die Tschechoslowakei, besonders der slowakische Landesteil, musste sich mit der Existenz einer über Zehnprozentigen, kompakt siedelnden magyarischen Minderheit wohl oder übel abfinden. Die Art und Weise, wie die magyarische Bevölkerung in den ersten Nachkriegsjahren seitens des sich als volksdemokratisch gebenden Staates behandelt wurde, beinhaltete bereits klar totalitäre Züge, wie sie auch die Vertreibungs- und Aussiedlungsvorgänge und die Abrechnung mit Gegnern der politischen Rechte und Mitte offenbart hatten. Der Weg zur alleinigen Herrschaft einer Partei, der im Februar 1948 endgültig eingeschlagen wurde, war somit bereits klar vorgezeichnet.
Nach internen tschechoslowakischen Lageberichten blieb die Arbeitsleistung der magyarischen Arbeitsverpflichteten hinter den Erwartungen zurück. Diese wurden u. a. in grenznahen, stark abgelegenen und bewaldeten Gegenden angesiedelt – meist in West- und Südböhmen. Dort hielten sich, wie bereits erwähnt, auch besonders viele Slowaken auf. Auch Bauern im tschechischen Landesinnern wurden magyarische Arbeiter zugeteilt. Die magyarischen Arbeitskräfte wurden mehrheitlich als Waldarbeiter in den ausgedehnten Staatsforsten oder Weidegenossenschaften in höheren Lagen eingesetzt und bekamen für ganze Familien kaum adäquate Behausungen zugewiesen, daneben ein bescheidenes Stück Land. Lokal bildeten Magyaren – verstärkt durch einige Zehntausend ebenfalls angesiedelte und magyarischsprechende „Reslowakisierte” und slowakische „Reemigranten” aus Ungarn – in gewissen Bereichen der böhmischen Grenzgebiete zwischenzeitlich ein wichtiges Bevölkerungssegment, das mit der Sympathie der tschechischen Neusiedler nicht rechnen konnte. So ergaben sich zwischen einzelnen Siedlergruppen örtlich bemerkenswerte Schicksalsallianzen: Zwischen Magyaren und nicht abgeschobenen und gleichsam als Bürger zweiter Klasse geltenden Deutschen, zwischen Magyaren und tschechischen Reemigranten, die vom Gros der tschechischen Neusiedler aus dem Landesinnern gleichsam als Fremde betrachtet wurden – und nicht zuletzt zwischen einer großen Anzahl von Slowaken (teils aus der Slowakei stammend, teils aus dem Ausland) und Magyaren. 1950 wurden in den böhmischen Ländern nur mehr 13 201 Personen magyarischer Nationalität registriert – nicht wenige Magyaren versprachen sich also auch weiterhin vom Verbleib im westlichen Landesteil mehr als von einer Rückkehr in die Slowakei. Der Aufenthalt des Großteils von über 60 000 Magyaren in den böhmischen Ländern war dennoch nur von vorübergehender Dauer, hinterließ aber bei den Betroffenen noch lange traumatische Spuren des Erlebten.
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Tarics, Péter: Magyarként a Felvidéken, 1918-1993: először nyilvánosságra hozott dokumentumokkal és információkkal [Zur Geschichte der ungarischen Minderheit in der Slowakei, 1918-1993: erstmalig veröffentlichte Dokumente und Informationen], Budapest: Püski 1994.
Tóth, Laszló: „Hivebb emlékezésül”: Csehszlovákiai magyar emlékiratok és egyéb dokumentumok a jogfosztottság éveiből 1945-1948 [Tschechoslowakisch – ungarische Denkschriften und sonstige Dokumente aus den Jahren der Rechtlosigkeit 1945 – 1948 in der Tschechoslowakei], Bratislava: Kalligram Könyvkiadó 1995.
Ujváry, Zoltán, Szülőföldön hontalanul. Magyarok deportálása Csehországba, Debrecen 1991. Auch auf Tschechisch und Slowakisch erschienen – basiert auf einem Erlebnisbericht (Erzählform)-keine wissenschaftl. Publikation (133 S.)
Ujváry, Zoltán, Bezdomovcom v rodnej zemi. Deportácia Maďarov do Čiech. Dunajská Streda 1997.
Vadkerty, Katalin, A deportálások. A szlovákiai magyarok csehországi kényszerközmunkája 1945 – 1948 között, Pozsony [Bratislava], 1996. Sehr gut – arbeitete z.T. auch mit Akten der Prager Zentralorgane – die beste Darstellung zur Thematik – nur auf Ungarisch erschienen!
Zvara, J., Maďarská menšina na Slovenaku po roku 1945, Bratislava 1969. Ideologisch deformiert, faktographisch nur teilweise brauchbar