They Were Divided (8 page)

Balint, bitterly disappointed, had gone on with his self-chosen task, but without joy or hope, despite the fact that the first public meeting was not inauspicious.

The banner of the Transylvanian Movement was unfurled on March 12th at one of the principal hotels in Vasarhely.

Also present with Balint were the other original founders of the movement, Istvan Bethlen, Miklos Banffy, Zoltan Desy and Gyozo Issekutz as well as many others who attended without knowing in advance anything of what they were about to hear. Among them were many who were not native Transylvanians but who had come
to represent districts in the province as a result of the peculiarly feverish atmosphere of the elections at the time of the Coalition.

Abady brought with him his detailed proposals for the
movement
’s programme and in his speech he concentrated on three points: the forthcoming electoral reform, Transylvania’s special commercial interests, and the many problems posed by the
existence
of the minorities.

The first two subjects met with little comment or opposition, but the third at once aroused all sorts of conflicting reactions. Balint wished to obtain support for a new law governing the rights of the minorities. At this point the representatives of the Szekler people started to demur, mostly those who were not of indigenous Szekler origin but who had come into Transylvanian politics from Budapest or the Great Plain, and who had been invited only because of their official positions. At once an
acrimonious
discussion started which threatened to get worse as Abady stood firmly by his proposition. Then Istvan Bethlen, who was presiding, decided to adjourn the meeting for a short while so as to give himself a chance to talk it over with Abady in private. Bethlen well understood the implications of what Balint had
proposed
and agreed with everything he had said. Nevertheless,
seeing
the mood of those who disagreed, he advised Balint to drop any specific details concerning the actual proposed law lest further discussion should bring about the disruption of the
meeting
and thus bring the movement to a halt before it had even got under way. He proposed that Abady’s text should be allowed to stand as it was, in general terms, but that discussion of the details of the proposed minority law should be left until later, it being understood that when the movement was firmly established the matter could then be brought up again and the introduction of the law openly demanded.

Abady was reluctant to agree, but could see no alternative. As a result his amended speech was read at the general session of the conference which was held at the county head-quarters the following day. His proposals were accepted unanimously by the thirty-odd delegates, who included Under-Secretaries of State, prefects, MPs and other elected officials in the presence of an exceptionally large audience. Everything of real importance was contained in the section of the speech entitled ‘To all the Peoples of Transylvania’. After a short introduction, during which he referred to the forthcoming elections, he said:

‘Now is the time when we should all stand together, regardless
of party, in all matters which affect our native land and which affect our peaceful existence now and in the future. It is time to put an end to that harmful situation where decisions affecting us are taken without our being consulted. That is all wrong. We no longer ask, we demand, that our special conditions should be taken into account in all law-making that concerns us. Finally we must have our say in all affairs that concern the well-being of our own homeland.

‘This demand is justified historically. When Transylvania was made an integral part of the kingdom we surrendered unselfishly the autonomy we had known for centuries and refrained from imposing any conditions in return. We did not stop to worry about the possible loss of material or personal advantages which had been part and parcel of our inherited independence. But … but this patriotic selflessness merits the
quid
pro
quo
that the central government should show as much special understanding, love and consideration for intrinsically Transylvanian matters as we would have shown ourselves. This is their moral obligation, but today there is no sign of it … unfortunately.

‘It is unfortunate, too, that with very few exceptions we have found ourselves treated as unwanted step-children so often are, disregarded, ignored, not worth bothering about! And if they do for once take a casual glance at the many complicated issues of which our society is composed, and the problems these entail, no one tries to understand what it is all about.

‘We suffer deeply from this indifference and ignorance. In
particular
we are forced to witness the degradation of our ethnic minorities, the destruction of our middle class and the continual recession in our industry and commerce.

‘A national policy that is as uncaring as it is ignorant as regards our minority problems is now increasingly provoking
dangerously
irredentist and seditious tendencies, tendencies which can be justified as provoked by unfair treatment. We must say
outright
that for centuries in Transylvania people have lived happily together regardless of race or creed or language and that to do this we need more than manufactured opinions and slogans
borrowed
from other lands and other peoples. These merely inject poison into our system.

‘With full knowledge of our own national circumstances, and in the interests of all Hungary, it is clear that we must eliminate those walls of mistrust which otherwise divide us. We must tear down those artificial barriers which separate our peoples; we
must disregard all difference of language and religion, and above all we must strive to ensure that there is trust, mutual trust, between the ruler and the ruled. Everybody who is or wishes to be at home in this country must be welcomed and made to feel at home with confidence that nowhere will he find any form of
discrimination
, for that will never bring peace and ease and
prosperity
to our land. No administration can achieve anything without consultation and mutual trust.

‘In making these considerations the basis for our demands we offer a friendly hand to anyone who, regardless of race or language or religion, desires to work for the peaceful evolution of our land.’

This ended what Balint had to say about the question of the minorities. Then he tackled the subject of economics:

‘We demand that the central government fulfils its moral
obligations
towards us and that firstly this is shown by a just
investment
in Transylvania’s cultural and material welfare. At present everything goes to Budapest and nothing comes back.

‘Almost nothing is initiated nationally to encourage our
commerce
, though in the last ten years commissions dealing with Szekler and forestry matters have been notable exceptions. However, the artificial separation of our economy from that of the rest of the country has resulted in stagnation and idleness. All the profit of our rich mineral deposits, our mines, forests, power-
stations
– as well as the accumulated receipts from high taxation – in no way returns home to benefit our own land or its inhabitants.

‘It is time, therefore, to call an end to fruitless begging and dreary complaint. We must make it clear that only by acceding to our demands can the country safeguard the future of the
average
landowner and ensure that a prosperous middle class can be firmly established. For the prosperity of all we must encourage the building up of small and medium-sized agricultural estates, regardless of the creed and nationality of the landowner. It is on this that the advancement of our social and cultural order depends and, above all, it is upon this that the life and dignity of our agricultural population depends. Our peoples must have the liberty and the right not only to work and earn their daily bread but also to own land and gain respect and prosperity as equal
citizens
of the same country.

‘We must have our fair share of the implements of commerce and industry, and so we demand from the national railways, which until now have only served our country in a derisively
feeble
fashion, that services are introduced that are worthy of the
real importance of our land. And we insist that central authority should back fully the development of our industrial potential.

‘It is our duty to point out to all Transylvanians that it is in their interest, again regardless of race, language, creed or party, to join this movement. It is their duty, too, to do this now when we stand on the threshold of elections that can influence our entire future.’

Finally he spoke about electoral reform.

‘At the forefront of all political activity stands the question of introducing a just system of voting rights for everyone.

‘Admitting the rightness in principle of a system of universal suffrage and in no way wishing, even if we could, to hold up the process of emancipation, we must be careful to do nothing that could hinder the introduction of a law designed to broaden the basis on which we elect those whose function is to make our laws. At the same time we must raise our voices in protest if the chosen route seems to us to be wrong. To the whole nation we must then say that there is no progress if it is not done right, and if we disregard those dangers which would be inherent in any ill-
considered
legislation. Remember that once this reform has become a reality, it will be here to stay and will not easily be changed or modified. We must be on our guard to make no false steps.

‘We cannot accept as a qualification for the right to vote any such simplistic formula as being able to read or write or speak Hungarian properly. This would be no valid criterion of either patriotism or the capacity to vote intelligently. Our conviction is that the coming law must first of all avoid any withdrawal of existing rights, which would only foster resentment and
encourage
old hatreds, and that secondly it must be based on a realistic approach to the rights of the individual, allowing him in all cases to be able to select those whose integrity, decency and patriotic spirit, and their political maturity, qualify them for a seat among the law-makers.

‘We must raise our voices in the cause of sanity and balance, and if we do object to any proposals we think ill thought-out or immature, it must be that we do so only because our aim is peace and harmony in everything that affects the well-being of all and that we set our face against any legislation which appears to favour only a limited section of our society. In defending Hungarian sovereignty we are also defending the security of property and culture.’

Before coming to a close he listed the movement’s aims and
demands and then ended with a few resounding phrases:

‘As individuals, scattered over the land, we will achieve
nothing
. Let us therefore unite, regardless of party loyalties and
political
conviction, to serve our country as best we may. Let the voters shake hands and stand together to serve those whom we elect to make our laws. And never forget, no matter under what banner you fight, that we are all successors to those worthy
forebears
whose role, whether eminent or obscure, played such a vital part, century after century, in keeping alive the honour and
prestige
of Transylvania!’
†

T
HESE WERE THE THINGS
that Balint was thinking about when, early in the afternoon, he started on his way back to Denestornya.

He was encouraged by the fact that so many had rallied behind his call for support for his proposed Transylvanian Movement. Of course it had only been a beginning, but it had been full of
promise
, and if every motion in Parliament that concerned Transylvania sparked off another meeting, another discussion, and another agreement, it would not be long before the
movement
became a force that no one would be able to ignore. And this itself would have further and more widespread effects. Sitting upright behind the steering wheel Balint felt himself once more young and strong and full of hope. The car, as if catching some of its owner’s happy mood, seemed to purr with joy and power as it started up the slope of the Felek.

As he drove Balint thought back to that time, more than a year before, when in the same car he had driven away from Denestornya after breaking off all relations with his mother because she would not accept his decision to marry Adrienne as soon as she could become free. Although he had been back several times since – for Countess Roza had forgiven her son as soon as
she learned that Adrienne’s divorce had become impossible since her husband had gone mad – almost immediately after Balint’s visit to his cousins at Jablanka, then again in spring and in
summer
, and lastly a few days before when he had come from there to attend that
Madam
Butterfly
at the Kolozsvar Opera, this was the first time that he had felt he was really returning home. Previously there had been no joy in his visits and they had left no mark on him. He had gone back merely out of duty and habit, and he had never been able to throw off the leaden depression that stemmed from those agonized hours of sorrow and
self-reproach
.

Until this day everything he had done he had done
automatically
, but now he felt alive again, thinking with pleasure and eagerness of all the work that lay ahead for him. Now he made plans, fantastic plans, involving ever more work and more responsibility. Such was the effect of his rediscovery and
repossession
of Adrienne.

Work, more work! He felt he could tackle anything.

The previous spring he had been asked to accept the
chairmanship
of the Consumers’ Council. Then he had hesitated and the question had been left in suspense. Now he decided to accept, but only for Transylvania, and his mind was soon busy thinking out the innovations he would propose and how he would try to improve the range and quality of the goods offered at country markets. He remembered seeing wide-bladed scythes in Holland, similar, he thought, to those in use in Tyrol. Perhaps these could be imported through the Co-operatives? He would introduce new and improved seeds, such as peas … and maybe soya beans. This would all have to be discussed with the agricultural experts so as to be sure of suggesting what would be most likely to succeed and which would prove the most beneficial: he would have to ask Aron Kozma who understood so well the needs and tricky moods of the village folk.

Where, he wondered, would he find Kozma now? And then he remembered the hunting at Zsuk which had just started and decided he would go himself, which he had not been able to do for the last year because if he had gone to Kolozsvar there had always been the risk of meeting Adrienne. Of course he could then have stayed at the Hunt Club residence at Zsuk, but he had not been in the mood even though his mother had offered him the best horses in the Denestornya stables. While he had been in that black depression nothing had seemed worth doing, but now everything
was changed. He could go where he liked. Everything was
wonderful
and full of beauty and the promise of joy and pleasure. Life was once again full of delights. Why, he would ride every day and every evening he would go back to town … and every night …

Already he started to choose which horses he would take with him – Handsome, of course, and Ivy – and which other? Menyet was promising enough, but at only four she was still rather young. Perhaps Csalma, who was sound and rather slow-moving, but all the same reliable. He would have to think it all out and discuss it later.

So ideas tumbled over themselves in his brain and he was filled with hope and new ideas and expectations. By now he was almost over the last pass of the Felek, which the carters had nicknamed the Horse-killer, and started descending a slope bordered by a few scattered houses.

Then, unexpectedly, he had to brake and bring the car to a stop.

A huge flock of sheep blocked the entire road. There were so many that Balint thought there must be between five hundred and a thousand, and this meant that he would have to wait for some time before he could go on. He knew well that sheep would never get out of the way but would just crowd together behind the leading ram, and that the leading ram would not move unless the shepherd was walking ahead. Also there was nowhere else for them to go, for the road through the village was bordered by solid fences, in addition to which it was a steep downhill slope, and the shepherd boys, knowing that anything that frightened the flock would probably make them panic and that some might get trampled to death if there was a stampede, called hurriedly to Balint, ‘
S
tey,
Domnule!
Stey!
– Stop, Master, stop!’

Balint did as he was asked and switched off the engine because he realized at once that it would take some time before the sheep could be got through the village and out into some
meadow
. It was not unknown for it to take nearly a day for a really large flock to cover only a mile or so, which, reflected Balint, just showed that they were not altogether stupid if instinct prevented them from damaging their hooves. And yet it was not always so for those mountain-bred animals were tough and resilient and could be made to move more swiftly when they were on their way to market. Now that they were being taken from one grazing ground to another the leading ram swayed gently from one foot to another almost as if he were performing some slow dance
movement while the rest of the flock munched unhurriedly as they went. Some owners used to take advantage of this by renting summer and winter grazing grounds some two or three hundred kilometres apart and for the two or three weeks that it took to go from one to the other the flock fed gratis at the side of the road.

And so Balint was forced to wait; and on this occasion he did not even feel mildly put out or impatient but called back at once: ‘Don’t hurry! Take it slowly! Slowly!’, for his heart was filled with love for everyone including the dirt-covered shepherds who never changed their clothing for weeks on end, the evil-smelling, greasy sheep flowing like a slow river before him, the dogs filling in the rear and the old donkey, heavily laden with the milking cans and the shepherds’ few belongings. All this is part of our birthright, he said to himself, it belongs to us and to us alone, for strange though it may be, it is one of the peculiarities of our land and is different from any other.

When the road was finally clear Balint stepped on the pedal and went on his way past woods and forests bright with the golden, copper and saffron colours of autumn and water-meadows still vividly green. Everything seemed beautiful to him, even the
occasional
bare clay hillside which shone brightly in the late afternoon sunlight. Deeply he inhaled the air that blew so strongly in his face as the car raced homewards.

Just before he reached the village of Also-Bukkos he noticed a man on a horse just turning onto the main road from a track that led from a nearby valley. It was Gazsi Kadacsay whose own property was not far away. Balint was astonished to see him for Gazsi had never been known to miss a day’s hunting and the
season
at Zsuk had already begun. He braked and called out:

‘
Servus,
Gazsi – greetings! What are you doing at home at this time? Surely the hunt can’t do without you?’

Gazsi cantered up to the car, and when he spoke it was with unusual seriousness, quite different from his habitual joking manner.

‘That’s just a lot of nonsense, my fr-r-riend. They can do very well without me.’

Then he went on hurriedly as if wanting to change the subject.

‘Are you on your way to Denestornya? If you are going to be there a little while I’ll r-r-ride over to see you. There’s something I’d like to talk over with you.’

‘Come whenever you like, my mother is always pleased to see
you … and me too, I want your advice on which horses to take to Zsuk this year.’

‘Hor-r-rses! Of course, always hor-r-rses!’ Gazsi spoke bitterly, and smiled in a strange manner bending his head sideways so that his long nose once more resembled the beak of some
disconsolate
bird of prey. ‘But I can’t come right away as I must go to my sister’s at Szilagy for some family business. Can I come in four or five days? It won’t be too far ahead?’

‘Of course not, I’ll expect you.’

They exchanged a few more words and then Kadacsay, calling out
‘Servus
!’‚
turned his old saddle-horse away and moved slowly off.

Balint drove on wondering at the change in his old friend and fancying that maybe he had some money troubles which would explain why he had seemed so gloomy. A few moments later he had forgotten all about it for he himself was so filled with joy and happiness that the possible troubles of other people could not touch him.

Roza Abady sat on a little bench in the great horseshoe-shaped court in front of the stables at Denestornya. Five colts had been selected as the best of that year’s products and it was now, in autumn, that she always decided which should be paired off to go into harness and which would be reserved for riding. All the horses would soon go into winter quarters but whereas the saddle horses would wait until the spring before their training began, Countess Abady believed in starting to teach the future carriage horses as early as possible when they would be at their most responsive. She knew that no harm would come to them if their first lessons were sufficiently light and steady and no weight was put on their backs. On the other hand it was important to build up the tendons and leg muscles by carefully controlled road work.

At her right stood Simon Jäger, the chief stable lad. He was a short man of about fifty who stood very straight as if he were
sitting
a horse, his bowed legs slightly apart. He had served in the hussars some thirty years before and he still wore a short pointed waxed moustache. His cheeks were smooth and red and, though he came of peasant stock, his feet were unusually small. He was the owner of his own land, an estate of some twenty acres, but he still took pride in working for Countess Roza at Denestornya – ‘at Court’ as the local people would say among themselves – not only because it gave him much prestige in the village but also
because he loved doing it. His father and grandfather had done the same before him, and his great-grandfather had been Head Keeper to that Abady who had been Governor of Transylvania. And that is how he had acquired his name, as
Jäger
was the German word for a sporting estate’s professional keeper. And so it had been passed from father to son at a time when many peasant families did not use surnames.

On the left of the countess was Gergely Szakacs (whose name meant ‘cook’) who had been chief stable lad before Simon, who was twenty years his junior. He too came from the same district and though he was now pensioned off Countess Roza always liked to have him at her side on these occasions for she much appreciated his knowledge and judgement. He came willingly (even though his pension had been paid somewhat haphazardly when the lawyer Azbej had managed the Abady estate office) for he loved his old mistress whom he knew to be good-hearted, and had been too proud to complain. Also he did not really need the pension money because in the course of a lifetime’s hard work he too had put some capital aside and owned a good house of his own. All the Szakacs had been tall and good-looking and this one had been no exception. Now he was somewhat bent and walked with a stick, but he was still a distinguished figure, with short-cut hair and well-trimmed beard, and had an air of authority which suited his position as one of the pillars of the Protestant church.