Fraternity-Testvériség, 1980 (58. évfolyam, 1-4. szám)
1980-10-01 / 4. szám
PROF. EDWARD CHASZAR, Ph.D. Department of Political Science, Indiana University of Pennsylvania The Tragic Fate of Hungary—Recalled on the 60th Anniversary of the Treaty of Trianon For the last sixty years Hungarians have been painfully aware of the tragic fate which befell their country in June 1920 when the Peace Treaty ending World War I was forced on them in the Trianon Palace near Paris. Americans at the time were utterly unaware of what was happening to that small but valiant country which had served as Western Europe’s outpost for centuries, a first line of defense against the onslaught of invaders from the East. It is the lack of information of Americans about the process of making that treaty, and the silence surrounding the event once it happened, which prompts the Hungarian Reformed Federation of America to raise its voice on the anniversary. The victorious Allied and Associated powers dismembered the Austro-Hungarian monarchy by creating a number of so-called “successor states.” The idea was to replace the multi-national monarchy with smaller national states, each of which would guard its newly won independence jealously and prevent, in this manner, a possible future expansion of Germany into the East-Central European region. History had proved twenty years later that the planners deluded themselves. Instead of insuring peace for generations to come, they created a settlement that bore within itself the seeds of a new world war. The “successor states” themselves were multi-national states, that is, states containing an inordinately large percentage of national minorities. Consequently, they did not satisfy the aspirations of the peoples involved any better than did the old monarchy. Lacking national unity and concerned with preserving their territory gained as spoils of war, they fell an easy prey to Hitler’s divide and conquer strategy, offering little or no resistance. Together with the greatly weakened, and separated, Austria and Hungary, the “successor states” became pawns on the chessboard of Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. The Treaty of Trianon was, beyond doubt, the most severe of all post-War treaties. Before the war Hungary had a territory of 125,600 square miles. According to the terms of the treaty she lost 89,700 square miles. Of her population of almost 21 million, 63.6 per cent was detached, including 3.5 million Hungarians (Magyars). The inhabitants of dismembered Hungary numbered only 7.6 million on a territory of 35,900 square miles. Rumania alone received 39,800 square miles, or more than what was left to Hungary. Czechoslovakia was presented with 23,800 square miles and Yugoslavia with a similar slice, including Croatia—which for 800 years stood in a federal relation with Hungary. Of Western Hungary, 1,500 square miles were allotted to Austria. By comparison, the Treaty of Versailles took away from Germany no more than 13 per cent of its territory and 9.5 per cent of its population. (The Peace of Frankfurt ending the Franco-Prussian War in 1871, had cost France a mere 2.6 per cent of her territory and 4.1 per cent of her population.) Having decreed—at the instigation of a few power- hungry nationalists—that a multi-national state such as Austrian Hungary was not worthy of having a life of its own, the victors of World War I set up states such as Czechosla- vakia, Yugoslavia, and Rumania, which were as many reproductions of the old Empire, embracing as many mixed nationalities. Thus, in order to “liberate” 2 million Slovaks from alleged Hungarian oppression, nearly 2 million other ethnic minorities were subjected to Czech rule. In order to “liberate” 2.5 million Rumanians, the same number of non-Rumanians were subordinated to Rumanian rule. In order to “liberate” 1 million Serbs who provided the spark for World War I, 3 million non-Serbs were put under the supreme authority of Yugoslavia. “It was ironic that a settlement supposed to have been largely determined by the principle of nationality should have produced a state like Czechoslovakia, with minorities amounting to 34.7 per cent of its population, quite apart from the question of the doubtful identity of nationality between Czechs and Slovaks. Poland was not much better off, with minorities amounting to 30.4 per cent, or Rumania, with 25 per cent,” said the British historian Alfred Cobban in his book National Self-Determination (1945). Adding it all up, the “successor states” found themselves with 16 million persons belonging to national minorities, out of a total population of 42 million. And compared to the situation prevalent in the old Austro-Hungarian monarchy, the lot of the new national minorities was miserable. “Is it not scandalous—exclaimed Sir Robert Gower, Member of the House of Commons in Britain some 15 years after the peace settlement—that a European reconstruction, loudly hailed as one that was going to liberate the national minorities, should have resulted in their persecution, the severity of which is such that there is no parrallel to it to be found in the ancient Kingdom of Hungary, where the nationalities had been treated with infinitely more benevolence!” Hardly did the ink dry on the Paris Peace Treaties when a number of publications began to appear revealing the truth of how and why the conditions of peace were imposed on the defeated Central Powers. Propaganda made the public believe that the Central Powers, and they alone, bore all the “war guilt,” furthermore, that they oppressed their nationalities. In the case of Austria-Hungary, the latter was singled out for punishment and dismemberment. How was this possible? Soon after the war it was established from documents that no European statesman at the time had done as much to prevent the war as the Prime Minister of Hungary Count Stephen Tisza. In fact, he was the only member of the Austro- Hungarian Joint Ministerial Council for Common Affairs who from the first day of the crisis had consistently opposed the war. As for the contention that the nationalities were oppressed and therefore called for the dismemberment of the dual monarchy, there were plenty of facts contradicting this. When the Hungarian Peace Delegation was handed the text of the treaty to be signed, with its terms dictated, not negotiated, the chief of the delegation suggested that in accordance with the principle of self-determination the population affected by the treaty ought to be consulted through plebiscites. “Ask the peoples themselves,” exclaimed Count Albert Apponyi to the assembled delegates of the victors, “we will accept their verdict.” This, indeed, would have been entirely consistent with the Wilsonian idea of self-determination. Why was it then not employed? Andre Tardieu-—who was to become twice Prime Minister of France between the wars— revealed the truth bluntly in his book entitled La Paix (Peace) in the following terms: “We had to choose between organizing plebiscites or creating Czechoslovakia.” It is all the more important, therefore, to acknowledge the attitude of the Chief Delegate of he Union of South Africa, General Ian Smuts (later Prime Minister), who de4