Magyar Herald, 1988 (1-4. szám)
1988 / 3. szám
3rd QUARTER, 1988 * TO BE MAGYAR MEANS A DISTINCT WALK OF LIFE BY THE EDITOR The most unjust of all post-war treaties of history was the Treaty of Trianon. The ancient Nation of Hungary, unwillingly compelled into a horrible war, was tom into pieces. Two-thirds of her Land and one third of Magyar-people of her territories were forcefully transferred to the Succession States around, called ‘new democratic’ States. This odious Treaty till this day was never ratified by the United States Congress. In the mirror of most recent researches there are 16 million Magyars on earth today, which paralells the number of Jews on this globe. Eleven million Magyars live in the Home-land and five millions scattered outside of the Nation. In comparison; out of the 16 million Jews three and half live in their Home-land and twelve and half scattered in Diaspora. In sharp contrast; four million Magyars are forced to live under unwanted Succession State rule on territories, where their own forefathers lived for over one thousand years. Magyar migrations — indeed — have featured distinctive traits, dissimilar to any other in human history. Attila József, the great Hungarian poet, said in the beginning of the century: “One and half million of our countrymen staggered out of the homeland into America.” The name is rightfully chosen. We, Hungarians, have not really immigrated to the American Continent by choice like the Anglo-saxons. We were driven out by compelling forces of history. We are dissimilar to the Anglosaxon majority. No comparison can be applied. There were four mighty waves of migration in our history. First of them at the end of the last century. Simple working men were driven out of Hungary by the thousands into America because of the intolerable economic conditions of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. All of them men, leaving their families behind. Their aim was not immigration. They were all intent to return to their families after acquiring here enough dollars for the purchase of a few acres of land back home. They are the ones, who organized all our first churches and built our first church-buildings here, starting in Cleveland in 1891. The end of World War I with Trianon brought on the second wave of migration. By that time the drastically changed historic events made those, who staggered out with the first wave, immigrants in the new land. They brought over their families to join them here, instead of going back themselves. Two thirds of the Nation given to others around swelled the waves of those, who again “staggered out” from the homeland. The end of World War II forced the Nation under Russian occupation and communistic rule. The third wave of migration brought thousands of “Displaced Persons” staggering through the Western Europian countries finally to America. Then in 1956, after the Russian armies crushed the glorious Hungarian Freedom-Fight, the fourth wave of migration staggered out and ended up here in America. Refugees came by the thousands, sponsored by our churches. We have become people living in Diaspora. Dispersed people, living so badly scattered, do develop a unique road of traveling, that is distinct. One of the undoubtedly greatest psychoanalysts of the world was our own Dr. Lipót Szondi. He lived the first half a century-long lifespan in Hungary and the second in Zurich, Switzerland, remaining a proud Magyar till the end. Continued on Page 3 LISZT FERENC Hazám! ...Véletlen körülmény ébresztette föl bennem hirtelen azt az érzést, amiről azt hittem, hogy kialudt, pedig csak szunnyadt. Egy reggel Velencében, egy német újságban olvastam a pesti szerencsétlenség részletes elbeszélését. Ez szívemig hatott. Szokatlan részvétet éreztem s ellenállhatatlan szükségét annak, hogy ennyi szerencsétlen emberen segítsek. Mit tehetek értük? — kérdeztem magamtól. Micsoda segítséget vihetek nekik? hiszen nincs semmim, ami az embert hatalmassá teszi az emberek között. Nincs meg a befolyásom, amit a gazdagság ad, sem a hatalmam, amit a nagyság ad. Mindegy: azért csak előre, mert érzem, hogy szívemnek nem lesz addig nyugta, nem száll addig álom a szememre, míg nem vittem el a magam, fillérét annak a végtelen nyomorúságnak. Különben ki tudja, nem áldja-e meg az szegényes adományomat? Az a kéz, amely megsokszorozta a kenyereket a sivatagban, máig sem fáradt el. Isten talán több örömet zárt a művész fillérébe, mint a milliomos minden aranyába. Ezek az izgalmak, ezek a fellángolások födözték fel számomra a „haza” szó jelentését. Nagyszerű táj szállt fel lelki szemeim előtt: a jól ismert erdő volt ez, amely a vadászok kuijongatásától visszhangzik; A Duna volt, mely sziklákon rohan keresztül; a hatalmas rétek, ahol békés nyájak legelnek szabadon, Magyarország volt, az erős és bőkezű föld, amely olyan nemes gyermekeket hordoz hátán, egyszóval: az én hazám volt. Mert — így kiáltottam fel hazafiassági rohamomban, amelyen bizonyosan mosolyogsz —, én is ehhez az ősi és erős fajhoz tartozom, én is ennek az őseredeti, megszelídítetlen nemzetnek vagyok fia, amelyet, úgy látszik, még jobb napokra tartogat a Gondviselés!... Részlet Liszt Ferencnek Lambert Massarthoz írt leveléből (1832) The above composition by Liszt is an other classic expression concerning our ‘walk of Life’ in this ‘New Land of the Free.’ — Repeated challenge to Magyar Club members to ‘perpatuate Magyar Culture’. English Translation will be published in our Magyar Herald. How timely and appropriate at this time, when thousands of Magyars escaped from Transylvanian home-land into Hungary. Fellowship of Compassion again at work!
