Miklós Bánffy: They Were Found Wanting

After some ten minutes had passed in which he had seemed respectfully to be following the closing phrases of the Speaker’s address, he turned to Abady and said, ‘May I have a few words with you?’

They got up and went out through the long corridor outside the Chamber where members were gathering in heated discussion and into the great drawing room, which was almost as dark as the Chamber itself and where little groups of chairs and sofas were separated from each other by columns and heavy curtains as if the room had been designed for conspiracy and intrigue.

As they sat down Boros started the conversation. ‘I would like to ask your advice,’ he said, ‘on an important matter which affects the whole nation. I really am extremely worried as I don’t know where my duty lies. If you don’t mind I’ll have to start some time ago, with the circumstances of my resignation.’

Balint tried to remember what he had heard, but all he could recall were some half-expressed insinuations. Now, sitting next to the man, he wondered if they could be true. It was hard to believe.

Zsigmond Boros was a handsome man with a high forehead, smooth as marble. He looked at you with a straight clear eye and a calm expression. His pale complexion was set off by a well-groomed beard somewhat reddish in tinge. His clothes, which were exceptionally well-cut, only accentuated his air of reliability. His voice was melodious and he chose his words carefully and well. Firstly he spoke about the time when Voros had made the statements about the Pactum .

‘I don’t think you were here then?’ he asked.

‘No‚’ said Abady in a somewhat reserved tone. ‘I was abroad.’

‘Ah, yes. I heard that you were in Italy. You don’t mind if I go over again what happened then?’

Boros then repeated what‚ as a Minister in office‚ he had stated at the time. He said that during the preliminary discussions there had been talk of an ad hoc cabinet which would take over the administration and introduce general suffrage and that this temporary government would consist exclusively of members of the 1848 Party and members of the former government. The presiding Minister had to be Laszlo Voros and, so Boros said, the proposition had been accepted by Ferenc Kossuth.

‘But that’s when I went to see Kossuth. I wanted to know exactly what was in his mind. I needed a clear picture and I felt, as one of his confidential advisers, that I had a right to know. Kossuth admitted that such a plan had been discussed but that he personally took it only ad referendum ‚ as a basis for discussion. He said that as the other two parties of the Coalition in opposition‚ the Constitutional and People’s Parties — which had formerly been against the universal suffrage proposals — now seemed to accept this reform, it had seemed to him that any other combination had become superfluous. He then showed me the actual text of the Pactum . That is the reason why I handed in my resignation. It had nothing to do with the slanderous stories that I hear were circulated about me as soon as I had resigned my ministry. As they did not know the truth I suppose it was inevitable that some people would believe the worst of me!’

Boros paused for a moment as if he were expecting some reaction from Balint. Then he went on:

‘So‚ you see, the Pactum really does exist. At the committee meeting yesterday Kossuth — well, to put it mildly — made a statement that hardly accorded with the truth. The question which worries me is this: should the matter be hushed up? Should we allow the country to believe in a lie? Is it, or isn’t it, our duty to intervene and stop the people from being misinformed? Is it, to be specific, my duty to tell the truth as I know it? I don’t know where I stand. On the one side I am not bound to secrecy by any promise: on the other I was in office at the time. Of course this is a political matter, not merely a question of professional discretion. But if I tell the House what I know the government will collapse like a house of cards.’

Boros looked questioningly at Balint.

‘Why do you turn to me‚ of all people?’ asked Abady.

‘Because I know that you accept no party whip and that you look far further in these matters than do most of our colleagues. I know all about your work in establishing the co-operatives in Transylvania and I much admire what you have achieved. Therefore allow me to explain how I view the present situation and why I believe it to be so serious, even, perhaps, fatal.’

As he spoke a new Boros appeared, quite different to the man Abady had known up to this moment. Until now Balint had seen only the elegant, somewhat bombastic orator who had a talent for the well-rounded patriotic phrases which were so appropriate to popular meetings. Now he talked from the heart, to the point, and from a totally unexpected point of view.

He spoke with bitterness and hatred in his voice.

‘It is clear,’ Boros started, ‘that the present government is based upon a lie. They have made the public believe that the Coalition has won the battle. But the truth is just the opposite. It is the King who has remained on top and who has proved that the so-called road to progress, the controversy about army commands and all the other slogans we have brandished for so long, is altogether impracticable. But no one will admit this. And to maintain the lie, to keep up their pretence, the public is fed with all manner of nonsensical rubbish. All through the session Parliament has been discussing Rakoczi’s so-called rehabilitation laws. Slush, just slush! This new decree — slush again! Other proposals will follow, anything which will ensure the government’s continued popularity. More slush! And they will have to, because they dare not admit that everything they promised before the elections is impossible to realize. So what do they do? They go trudging along after more and more tasty-sounding carrots to disguise the fact that their programme is an utter fiasco. This is very‚ very dangerous, if only because only pretend-laws and pretend-decrees will be passed, things that the press will acclaim and write about. And since we are powerless to alter our relationship with Austria our incapacity will be disguised and dressed up in all sorts of false colours. It will be just the same with the banking question, with the Austro-Hungarian customs problem and with the military “quotas”. Oh, the Austrians are clever enough! They’ll make us pay for our little gestures towards independence with the jingle of silver and gold and we’ll pay the price for the sake of being able to name the filthy bargain a “customs contract” instead of “integrated customs”, or some such meaningless phrase! And this will be so in all things because all our beloved government wants is to be able to maintain the show of progress towards national independence; so they’ll do it in all matters not subject to the Pactum . As I understand it Apponyi is now planning a new law for the State schools — which will cost a great deal of money — so as to have a show of Hungarian language teaching — on paper, of course — and Kossuth is working on a plan to bring new order to the Croatian railroads. They are already drawing up the plans for a decree to ensure that all railroad employees should use the Hungarian language even there. Can you think of anything more stupid and ill-conceived?’

‘Surely that’s not possible,’ said Balint. ‘Doesn’t the law already state that Croatian is the official language in Croatia?’

‘Of course! While I was in office I did all I could to speak against the idea. Especially because it was our fault that the Khuen government collapsed and thus ensured the majority of the Serbian Coalition. But this was exactly what Kossuth wanted because the Serbs were the only party who backed him on the Personal Union issue.’