The Phoenix Land (33 page)

After the supper several of us, all men, sat round the prince. He was a tall handsome man, florid of complexion, with a small fair moustache: the type they call in England a ‘military man’ – which always means good-looking but does not necessarily
suggest
the possession of brains. The conversation turned to the guest’s Hungarian forebears, and one of us asked the prince if he possessed any work of art or weapon that had belonged to his ancestor, Prince Rédey. ‘Oh yes I have,’ he replied. ‘I inherited his sword.’ Someone must have whispered in his ear that I
collected
old Hungarian weapons, for he then said, not to me but to the general company: ‘I wonder what it can be worth? I have no use for it and would gladly sell it.
85
’ Poor prince! He was always short of money. His debts had more than once been paid by his sister, the queen, and so it was understandable that, after drinking a substantial quantity of heavy wine, he might think of peddling his great-grandfather’s sword in Hungary. However, it hardly sounded encouraging from the lips of one who might become a candidate for the throne. He was promptly nicknamed ‘Prince Tök’ – ‘Prince Pumpkin’ – and this was the sole result of his visit to Hungary.

After King Karl’s escapade to Szombathely no other
pretender
to the throne of Hungary was ever considered or even mentioned. This was when the legitimist movement had its beginnings, even if only with a number of aristocrats, some
leaders
of the Catholic church, a few Jewish bankers and those
officers
of the old combined Austro-Hungarian army whose most cherished memories were of their youth in the Imperial capital.

But for those events now about to confront us in the summer of 1921 this sudden recrudescence of legitimist feeling did fatal and irreparable damage, for this was the moment when we had to face the cruellest condition imposed upon us by the Treaty of Trianon: namely the surrender to Austria, our former ally and comrade in arms, of part of our sovereign territory.

The question of the Burgenland was upon us; and that is what will be the subject of the next chapter.

Chapter Four

The peace treaty had specified that the new borders should come into effect the moment the treaty was ratified. The Serbs would have to evacuate that part of Baranya left to Hungary, while simultaneously we had to surrender the Burgenland to Austria.

This was very painful for us.

The other former Hungarian territories which Trianon had awarded to our neighbours had been occupied by them since the end of hostilities, and all Hungarian officials had been expelled by the occupying powers. It had not been so in the Burgenland, for there the Hungarian government still ruled and the order to evacuate would have to come from us. It would be we ourselves who had to order Hungarian officials to leave their posts; and it was like being told not only to chop off one’s hand but also to serve it up on a silver platter.

The worst of it was that Sopron and its surrounding territory had to be handed over not to one of the victorious powers but to Austria. Not only was this deeply humiliating but in it there was also a diabolical irony. For centuries Hungarians had fought
successfully
to defend Hungarian land from Austria; but now, when the Allies had broken up the Austrian Empire, it was demanded of us that we should surrender to Austria land that had always been ours.

This was exacted from us at a time when Austria was as much a vanquished nation as we were and, what is more, vanquished in a war into which we had been drawn only because of our
connection
with Austria, a war that was wanted by no one in Hungary and which had started because an Austrian archduke had been murdered. The ultimatum to Serbia had come from Vienna, and in the royal council that had ordered it the only
dissenting
voice had been that of István Tisza, prime minister of Hungary.

It now was demanded of Hungary that she should hand over to Austria land that had been Hungarian since the days of the Arpád kings.

This was a most perverse idea. It seems to have originated in the desire of the victorious powers to drive a wedge between Hungary and Austria and to create such hatred and distrust between our two peoples that we should never again become allies. It was a measure conceived in hatred, just as were all the other vindictive conditions imposed on the defeated by the
conquering
powers at Versailles.

Already in June I had been discussing with Bethlen whether there was anything that could be done, for to the Hungarians the enforced surrender of the Burgenland was the deepest
humiliation
of all. He and I both saw the problem in the same light, and so we decided that we must do something about it.

The first and biggest obstacle was that the decision of the Council of Ambassadors had decreed that the handing over of Baranya and the Burgenland must take place simultaneously. Both had to start, if I recall the date accurately, on 23 June. This would mean that if we attempted in any way to delay matters on our western frontier the Serb evacuation of Baranya would stop at once, and we would ourselves have created an impediment to the recuperation of territory to which we had full rights under the terms of the peace agreement. It was clear to us that while this condition was insisted upon there was nothing we could do about the Burgenland.

Accordingly, my first task would be somehow to have this obstacle removed. It would be difficult, but I had to try. Luckily I was on good terms with the ambassadors of the Great Powers.

The British ambassador was called Hohler. In his diplomatic career he had been in many stormy posts. Before being sent to Budapest he had been in Mexico, where he had lived through several revolutions, and before that, I fancy, was in Japan, where there had been a military revolt. He had hardly been in any post where there had not been some unrest. He seems to have been something of a stormy petrel. He was highly intelligent, shrewd,
with a great knowledge of the ways of men, and basically a good man. I was on intimate terms with him.

The French ambassador was Foucher. I was on even closer terms with him, perhaps because he too was a writer, and I had read one of his novels. This had not been world shattering, but it had shown he had a poetic instinct. He was not as sharp-witted as his English colleague, but he was as wholesome as a loaf of bread.

The third was Prince Castagnetto. He was a real charmer, an enchanting Neapolitan: witty and clever as only Italians manage to be. He had a sharp and cynical sense of humour and the social grace of a real cosmopolitan, as is well demonstrated in the
following
anecdote.

Castagnetto was the title he bore, but his family name was Caracciolo. It was one of the most distinguished names in the kingdom of Naples, and for centuries his family had played an important part in the history of southern Italy. It happened that about this time I had read a book about the battle of Lepanto, which in 1571 had brought an end to the supremacy of the Turks in the Mediterranean. The Christian fleet had been divided into three parts, one of them commanded by a Caracciolo. I thought it would flatter Castagnetto if I mentioned this, because his ancestor’s fellow commanders had been none other than Don John of Austria, the son of Charles V, and Admiral Doria, the famous Doge of Genoa. Such little remarks often give as much pleasure to the recipient as would a small gift; and there is a saying in French:
‘les petits cadeaux entretiennent l’amitié’
– ‘small presents keep friendship alive’. And so I threw this
ancestor
into the conversation.

Castagnetto’s eyes glinted, and I could see at once that he knew very well that I had mentioned this so as to flatter the vanity of his family. Then he laughed.

‘Oh yes, it is true,’ he said. ‘But my family has a memory even more illustrious than that. Another of my forebears was raped by Cesare Borgia!’

And in this way he showed me that he was not to be influenced by an appeal to family pride. In the matter of the date for
evacuating
the Burgenland I turned first to Hohler. Even if he had
not then been the ambassador with most influence and if I had not been so impressed by his strength of character, I would still have turned first to the English.

Italy did not normally have much to say in the Council of the Ambassadors, while France usually took the side of Yugoslavia. Not, however, the English who had never had much sympathy for the Serbs.

The only argument I could use in trying to prevent the
simultaneous
evacuation of the Burgenland and the handing back of Baranya was what I knew about the way the Serbs had already made use of their occupation of our territory. As I have
previously
mentioned, the Serbs had done everything they could to have the whole of Baranya proclaimed an independent republic. Lindner, who had been Károlyi’s defence minister, was then in Pécs for this very reason, doing his best to stir up support for this project principally among the miners of the region. Whether he would have any success we did not at this time have any idea, because who can tell what effect propaganda posters will have? One can find desperate men who can be persuaded to treason everywhere. Another important factor was that all around Szabadka had been stationed an entire Serb battalion, thus giving rise to the suspicion that the Serbs were again planning to use the army to gain their ends, and that Lindner’s republic would be proclaimed and then defended by force of arms. This idea was strengthened by confidential reports from the region telling us that some Serbian officials had let it be known that they did not intend to move from where they were.

This all added up to a most convincing picture; and this is what I used in my approach to Hohler.

I explained what dangers lay in simultaneous evacuation: namely that if, when we had evacuated the first or even the second zone of the Burgenland, the Serbs raised some objections and did not quit our part of Baranya, we would be faced by a
fait accompli
, for by the time telegrams could arrive it would be too late to do anything about it. Hungarian public opinion would never stand for our having given away the Burgenland and gained nothing in return. This would be a national catastrophe, and the government would inevitably fall. There would then be
endless diplomatic protests and, taking into account the warlike disposition of the Serbs, it was likely that they would resort to arms before giving up Baranya. And as they were already be in possession of that southern province, who would come forward to drive them out by force? The Great Powers? Could one really imagine that any one of the Great Powers would mobilize against Serbia when peace had only so recently been restored, especially on such a trivial matter as who controlled tiny Baranya?

As I am sure my readers will understand, everything I said was true and in no way exaggerated. It is always a mistake to think one must lie in diplomacy. It is one of the diplomat’s
fundamental
rules that, although there may be things than can remain unsaid, what is said must be the truth. Always tell the truth. Lies are stupid and often harmful, for sooner or later one is found out and then one has lost all credibility forever. Lying is also bad because it can only be convincing if he who does it is himself convinced he is telling the truth. That we also had other reasons for wishing to do away with the simultaneous
evacuations
I did not say; but what I did say was utterly truthful and backed up by fact.

After presenting my point of view I asked the British
ambassador
if he would be able to get the Council of Ambassadors to arrange that the Serbian withdrawal would start at least one day earlier than ours. This would mean that we would already be in possession of the first zone in the south when we handed over the first zone in the west. In this way we would be sure, when we left the second zone of the Burgenland that we would also get the second zone of Baranya.

I shall never know if Hohler read carefully through the whole bundle of data which I had had translated into French for him, but I am sure that he had also had similar information from British Intelligence which was always remarkably well-informed and seemed to have observers everywhere.

At any rate he promised to put forward what we asked.

If I remember correctly, it was at the end of July that we heard from Paris that the Council of Ambassadors had accepted our point of view. This gladdened my heart, and I thanked Hohler
most warmly. This at least saved us from the worst we might have feared if the Serbs were to prove unreliable, while it left the way open for the Hungarian government perhaps to rescue something of the Burgenland.

It had been arranged that the Burgenland was to be evacuated in three phases, while Baranya was to be completed only in two, so that if the Serbs started to move out a day earlier than we did, we should be in full possession of our part of Baranya when we had only just started our first phase of withdrawal. This decision gave us the opportunity to plan how we might be able to save Sopron at least and with it the old natural Austro-Hungarian border, which the Trianon terms had so cruelly and senselessly wrenched from us.

In the succeeding weeks it gradually became clear that there would not after all be any difficulty in the return of Baranya. The Serbian army was still armed to the teeth in the country round Pécs and Szabadka; but Lindner’s propaganda had failed, and the inhabitants of Baranya awaited their return to Hungarian jurisdiction with such evident joy that we no longer had any qualms about the matter.

This meant that we could concentrate all our efforts on the Burgenland.

We had several different ideas as how best to proceed. The most realistic seemed to be that we should take up one of the other points of the Trianon agreement, namely that as a consequence of the dissolution of the monarchy Austria and Hungary should divide the Habsburg properties between the two states. Amongst other things this meant that Vienna should send back to us that part of the imperial collection of art treasures that had originally come from Hungary. We had already asked the Austrian
government
to honour these treaty terms, but had met only with delays and evasions, both as regards the general property and also the imperial art treasures. One possibility therefore was to declare that the second and third zones of the Burgenland would be retained by us until such times as we received a satisfactory answer to our just demands concerning the Habsburg properties.