In April 1990, the BBC’s international correspondent, John Simpson, wrote an introduction to his ‘eye-witness accounts of the Revolutions that shook the world’ over the previous twelve months, from Peking to ‘Eastern’ Europe as it was known then. In it, he published the photograph and caption below from June 1989:
Although Miklós Neméth and Gyula Horn are perhaps more familiar names as Prime Ministers during this period and through to the later 1990s in Horn’s case, Pozsgay was undoubtedly the leading architect of the Reform movement within the leadership in the Spring and Summer of 1989, securing both the bloodless removal of János Kádár from power and the opening of the border to Austria to the East German refugees, which led to the fall of the Berlin Wall later that Autumn. By the time President Bush visited in July 1989, just before I arrived for my second visit (my first had been in October 1988 with a group of Quakers from Britain led by a 1956 exile), Hungary had effectively ceased to be either a Communist country or a Soviet ‘satellite state’. Senior citizens, including Pozsgay, had been talking seriously of joining the European Community and NATO. During my third visit, in October 1989, the country had indeed changed both its name and its constitution. By the time I came to Hungary for the fourth time, this time to marry and live here, in the early Spring of 1990, the country was getting ready for its first free elections since November 1945. Here, Simpson takes up the story:
When the final round of elections came, in April 1990, the reformed Communists won only 8 per cent of the seats, and Pozsgay and his colleagues were out of office. A centre-right government came to power. As in 1918, Hungary had emerged from an empire and found itself on its own; though this time, unlike the violence and destruction which followed the abortive Communist Republic of Béla Kun in 1919, the transition was peaceable and relaxed. Hungary’s economy and environment had been horribly damaged by thirty-three years of Marxism-Leninism; but now, at least, it had shown the way to the rest of Central and Eastern Europe. There are dozens of men and women, maybe more, who had a part in encouraging the revolutions that will be described in this book. But the stout figure who stays at home and cooks for his family while he tries to work out what to do next, is one of the more important of them.
I left Hungary that Easter to travel to Dublin for my second IATEFL (International Teachers of English as a Foreign Language) Conference. The tricoleur flags and bunting were out on the streets and fine buildings of the Irish capital for the 74th anniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising. My only previous visit there had been in the summer of 1966 shortly after the (then) Official IRA had blown up Nelson’s Column as an act of confirmation of Ireland’s breaking free of the British Empire. This weekend in 2016 marks the hundredth anniversary of the Rising, and major acts of commemoration and celebration are planned. Those who struck a blow for freedom during a time when the British Empire was at war – Pearse, Connolly among them – are not remembered by all Irish people as heroes and, at least until their ‘martyrdom’ at the hands of the British state, they were not celebrated as by many of their contemporary compatriots. In Hungary, those who led a non-violent revolution, perhaps therefore more worthy of commemoration, could never give their contemporary compatriots enough to make them forget that they were Communists. However, without their contribution, the events of 1989-90 might not have provided so peaceful a transition and, as the wars in the Balkans and the Ukraine have demonstrated, the anti-heroes of violent nationalism might have, instead, caused the civil strife we now see across the Middle East, five years after the Arab Spring. Hungary’s softer nationalists may never give Imre Pozsgay a statue in Kossúth tér, outside Parliament, like the 1956 rebel Communist leader, Imre Nagy, but he should be remembered by internationalists across the continent as one of a small group of leaders who helped to reunite the continent in peace, freely giving up power in order to do so. In keeping with the Easter theme, their role was, though not as sacrificial as that of the 1916 ‘rebels’, certainly a bravely vicarious and patriotic one.
Source: John Simpson (1990), Dispatches from the Barricades. London: Hutchinson.