I stand for God, for the Church and for Hungary. This responsibility has been imposed upon me by the fate of the nation which stands alone, an orphan in the whole world. Compared with the sufferings of my people, my own fate is of no importance.
József Cardinal Mindszenty, Primate of Hungary, 1948
On November 9, 2019 we will be celebrating the 30th anniversary of the Fall of the Berlin Wall on November 9, 1989, a date always to be remembered by those of us who witnessed it. A very important date to be sure. However, the struggle of the people of Eastern Europe against the Communist satellite regimes imposed by the Soviet Union was an ongoing and ceaseless one. When those regimes fell they fell swiftly, but those dominoes fell through decades of turmoil and blood by heroic freedom fighters who stood up when the struggle seemed completely hopeless and futile. They deserve to be honored and remembered by those of us who cherish freedom. That is why at this time each year I recall the Hungarian Freedom fighters of 1956.
The Hungarian Revolt of 1956 was an extremely important turning point in the Cold War. It demonstrated to the world that Eastern Europe was not, and never would be, Communist, but rather merely territory held down by the force of the Soviet Red Army. This spirit of resistance lived on in each of the countries in the Warsaw Pact from the first imposition of Communist governments at the end of the World War II to the fall of the Communist states at the end of the eighties. It was a magnificent struggle that is too little celebrated in the West. In a time when too many idiots or worse are looking longingly at the far Left, this is important history to recall.
The heart and soul of the struggle in Hungary was one of the great men of the 20th Century: József Cardinal Mindszenty, primate of Hungary. Imprisoned by the pro-Nazi government in Hungary during World War II, he was imprisoned, tortured and condemned in a show trial by the puppet Communist regime after World War II. Freed by Hungarian patriots during the Hungarian revolt, he quickly joined the revolt. After it was crushed he took refuge in the American embassy in Budapest where he stayed for 15 years, a symbol of the unconquerable spirit of his beloved Hungary. Shamefully, in my view, the Vatican compromised with the Communist regime, annulling the excommunication imposed by Pius XII on all involved with the trial of Mindszenty, and calling him “a victim of history” rather than “a victim of Communism”. Mindszenty traveled to Vienna rather than Rome, upset at the suggestion of the Vatican that he should retire and live in Rome. He was stripped of his titles by Pope Paul VI in 1973, although the Pope did not fill the primacy until after the Cardinal died in 1975. The Church in Hungary has launched a strong effort to have the Cardinal proclaimed a saint, and I pray that it is soon crowned with deserved success.
Those of us who live in freedom stand on the shoulders of giants. In the last bloody century, many of those giants lived in Eastern Europe.
The first person I ever met from one of the Eastern European countries – Hungary in fact – was the wife of a friend of mine. She was old enough to have grown up in the later years of the Cold War. She told me that of all the presidents, they admired Reagan the most, since he was the one who didn’t seem to throw the Eastern states under the bus to keep the Cold War balance. I’ve met many from E. Europe since, and almost all I’ve talked to seem to echo that opinion.
When I was six years old, I was in the hospital getting my tonsils out. My roommate was a Hungarian boy who’s family just fled the failed uprising. I remember the boy’s father coming in to visit his son. Neither of them spoke English yet, so we couldn’t talk to one another. But, I heard them talking, and I could tell that pain was in their voices. Pain caused by the boy’s illness and probably their forced exile from their homeland.
Sad to say that one of my coworkers in 1971 was a 1956 refugee from Hungary . Sad because despite his freedom in this country and a good job he had nothing good to say about our country. He was told m ore than once to go back to Hungary if he didn’t like it here.
I remember, as a 5-year old, seeing, but not comprehending, news footage of fighting in streets and a statue (which I now know to be of Lenin) being toppled. I never forgot. When I was about 13, I found a copy of “The Bridge at Andau”, which I read. I then understood what I had seen. I have never forgotten. And have had nothing but admiration for the Hungarian people.