Magyar News, 1995. szeptember-1996. augusztus (6. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1995-11-01 / 3. szám
HISTORY (CONTINUED) next day's demonstration. Most of the students went home. As I am walking home, all the dogs of Kerepes came out to greet me. What a concert! It is past 2 AM on this Tuesday, the 23rd of October. Mother left my supper on the stove. 1 start eating from the stew-pan. Then I hear stirrings in the bedrooms, so I quickly get a plate and continue with improved manners. First mother appears, then father in his night-time beret, which keeps his balding scalp warm. Eventually my brothers, Peter and Andris, also join us in the kitchea I read our demands to them, and I read the announcement of the demonstration to come. Mother’s expression is one of fear: fear that her son has gone mad. Andris, who just woke up, thinks that I am telling about a dream I had........... OCTOBER 23,1956 I went to bed about 3 AM and got up at 5 AM. I arrive at the university around 7 AM. Jancsi Danner is at Gate #4. He winks at me, then hands over a red-white-andgreen arm-band....A tricolored arm-band was unthinkable, a provocation, a sign of open rebellion. And now I have one. I feel ten feet tall. As I am walking over to Gate#2, near the Chemistry Building, I hold my head high and I keep peeking at my own arm-band. I feel so happy, so honored. At the gate the first person who enters is Kati Szőke, the young chemistry professor, who last night helped us with the copy mashine. She stops, stares at my arm-band. Her eyes get teary as I explain that we are screening out strangers who might stir up trouble, then she quietly hands me her identity card. The president of the university, László Gillemot hands me his card.. I hand it back and in my embarressment I make something like a curtsy. In his eyes, I see warm reassurance, like he would say:”Don’t worry! The young men of other ages were just as scared as you are, yet they changed the world.” Meanwhile the demands were to be distributed to other universities. I grabbed copies of “The Future Engineer” from the editor Ivan Sándor, and took off to the universities on the Pest side of the city. Now the people on the streetcars know the meaning of the arm-band. The university, students of other schools are gathering. At 12:30 the radio announces that: "The Minister of Interior, László Piros has forbidden the march!” It is about 2:30 when there is some commotion on the roof of the Machine page 4 Laboratory. We see the tall figure of Jancsi Danner with a shorter, dark haired police officer to whom they hand the bullhorn. “I am Sándor Kopácsi, police chief of Budapest. I bring you good news:You have permission to march”. Now it is Colonel Marian’s turn to speak:"Our silent solidarity march will start at Gate #2”,- my gate. ....As we march through the square, we see an ocean of people behind us.Now the students on the Pest side are also starting on their northward inarch. They too are silent. The effect is overpowering. The sidewalks are full of pedestrians who are marching with us. This is more than just a demonstration of a few thousand students. This is more like a dream. An entire nation is marching here. Everybody who ever loved this nation is with us. “This moment made life worth living.”- said Gyuri Egiy, on my right. The march moves to the statue of the Polish General Bern, the 14 demands grow to 16, Peter Veres is speaking and we listen to Petőfi ’s poem, “Rise Hungarians.... ’’followed by the reading of the demands. Then we all go to the Parliament. IT IS TIME FOR GUNS It is 8 PM. We are on St. Stephen’s Avenue, on the Pest side of the bridge. People have placed their radios in the windows. We can hear a speech by the hated secretary of the Communist Party, Emo Gero:”We condemn those who strive to spread the poison of chauvinism among our youth and who carry out nationalist demonstrations.” - he says. Now our mood changes. Meno turns to me:”The dirty, lying skunk! This quisling fears all patriots and he should too!” Our march is no longer silent. I hear Laci Zsindely’s voice from far back:”Down with Gero!” The slogan spreads like wildfire. In a minute the walls of the Avenue is echoing, the windows are shaking as we switch to the rallying ciy:”Ruszkik Haza!” (Russians go home) followed by:’’Hungarians Come with Us!” On Alkotmány Street I see a pub. I have not eaten since the morning, so I run in:”Give me something to eat, a roll or anything.” The moustached bartender gives me a French roll. I hand him money, he takes it, looks at my tricolor arm-band, hesitates for a moment, returns the money and says:”I will close down and join you!” By the time we arrive in front of the Parliament, there must be a quarter million people. We hear a lot of yelling as people are demanding that the red star on the dome be turned off. When the light finally goes out, a thunderous ovation rises. A moment later all the light, in the immense Kossuth Square go off. It is total darkness. This is a less than subtle hint by the Communists that it is time to go home! Now in a distance, I see somebody igniting his rolled up issue of the Szabad Nep, the Party’s newspaper. Others follow the example and within a few minutes thousands of torches are lighting the plaza. It is a serene, unforgettable sight. As we stand hypnotized, a deep voice starts singing the National Anthem. People stand to attention, The hymn spreads, fills the square and then rises up to the sky. As our voices blend in the prayer for our homeland, our souls fill with a new unity and determination The paper torches are still burning when the favorite Kossuth song propagates, thunders through the plaza. Finally, Ferenc Erdei announces from the balkony of the Parliament that Imre Nagy, one of the few respected Communist leaders in Hungary, is going to speak to us. There is no sound amplification so we really can not hear everything he is saying. The only thing we all hear is the word:”Comrades.” This is the ultimate insult, Imre Nagy calling us comrades is the final turn off. We don’t want to hear any more. We don’t want to listen to any more speeches. Enough of listening, enough of talking, it is time to make our own decisions. It is time for action. It is around 9 PM, our class is still in one group, when Gyuszi Peer arrives on his motorbike with his bride, the little blond athlete, Marika:”People are trying to topple Stalin’s monument in the park. At the Radio, the Director, Valeria Benke is holding our delegation with the 16 points captive. The AVH (Communist secret police) have been reenforced. It is very tense at the Radio! The workers of Csepel are arriving in trucks” - he reports. We hold a brief meeting. Gyuri Egry says:”We should do something that others are not. Let us go to the Szikra Publishing House and print a strike proclamation.” We agree on that. So, Gyuszi Peer goes back to the Radio, and we the junior class of Mechanical Engineering, still in a disciplined, orderly manner, march to the Szikra Publishing House. The workers at the publishing House offer no resistance. They only ask for a written statement to say that we have requisitioned the printworks, and from there on, their questions involve only the text, paper size and quality and the likes. It feels to easy. In about an hour the strike proclamation is printed. We are about to leave with the still wet leaflets, when Gyuszi Peer with Marika arrives once more. This is the first time that I see Gyuszi unnerved, shaken. His report explains why:”At the Radio, the AVH first used tear gas bombs, later started shooting. People have been killed.
