This past week, on October 23, Hungarians at home and abroad commemorated the revolution of 1956, a time when, after a week of mass protests, it appeared a popular if bloody uprising against Soviet power had proved successful.
Viktor Orbán, the Hungarian Prime Minister, speaks to invited guests in Budapest on October 23, 2024. The slogan on the rostrum reads: Respect to our Heroes 1956. (Screen shot from ATV news broadcast.)
But 68 years ago, any illusion of a victorious Hungarian David winning out against a Moscow Goliath was short lived. Soon enough, the tanks turned around, re-entered Budapest, installed a Soviet puppet regime, and the retributions began. Hungary was to remain under the Soviet yoke for three more decades.
The memory of 1956 is indelibly etched in Hungarian society, straddling the otherwise unbridgeable political divide between left and right believers. But it is especially cherished by the nationalists in general, and Prime Minister Viktor Orbán and his governing Fidesz party in particular.
Indeed Orbán claims his Fidesz party was birthed on the sacrifices of the patriotic heroes of 1956, and likes to deem himself a 'street fighter' from his anti-communist, dissident student days (even if this conveniently ignores the fact that by then, the Hungarian authorities had largely renounced violence – and certainly terror – as a means of controlling political opposition).
So when, on October 9 in the European Parliament, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, in her package of testing questions for the Hungarian premier, noted that “some still blame the Ukrainians for the Russian invasion [of Ukraine]” - pointedly referring to Orbán – then asked “Would they blame the Hungarians for the Soviet invasion of 1956?” the rattled prime minister was quick to respond in his rebuttal.
“Any analogy or comparison of the Hungarian freedom fighters of 1956 with Ukraine is a mistake and insults the memory of the Hungarian freedom fighters … [The two conflicts] have nothing in common. I reject all false and misleading historical analogies,” he pronounced.
For Orbán watchers, his fervent conterclaim came as no surprise. Indeed, it followed hard on the heels of his response to a statement by his chief political adviser, Balázs Orbán (no relation) who, in late September had argued in an interview with a government-friendly website that:
“Following on from 1956, we would probably not have done what [Ukrainian] President Zelensky did two and a half years ago, as it is an irresponsible act. It is clear that he took his own nation into a defensive war, [and] so many people have died. He has lost so much territory.”
In Hungary, the response to this interview was immediate, universal outrage. Analysts and politicians of both left and right queued up to condemn the adviser. In essence, their message was simple: Balázs Orbán, you have insulted the memory of our brave freedom fighters, who paid the ultimate price in defence of the homeland.
No doubt shaken, and almost certainly already regretting his analysis, Balázs Orbán did a rapid U-turn of sorts, apologising for any offence caused and saying that his words had been twisted by opponents. He would, he said, be on the streets “gun in hand” if necessary to defend the country.
More importantly, the prime minister, in one of his regular interviews on state radio two days later, was adamant that 1956 Hungary bore no relationship to Ukraine today.
“...Our community is rooted in the 1956 Revolution, and grew out of it. This would not be our political community but for the heroes of ’56. Therefore the debate on war and peace should not involve the events and heroes of Hungarian history that to us are sacred and inviolable, such as 1956 and the heroes of ’56. They should be kept out of the debate. So I don’t want the shadow of the Ukrainian–Russian war to be cast over the memory of the freedom fighters of 1956.”
As for his adviser, the politician was forgiving. Balázs Orbán had “misunderstood” the situation, in the prime minister's eyes.
(One might think political advisers are paid handsomely to make sure they fully undestand situations before opening their mouths, but that's another subject.)
Whatever, for the one-time law student from Székesfehérvár, that was - or should have been - that, at least until von der Leyen's annoying analogy on October 9.
Except, what nobody of note in Hungary seems to have concluded since either event, is that according to Viktor Orbán's own assessment of the Ukraine conflict – namely that Kyiv cannot possibly defeat the might of nuclear-armed Moscow on the battlefield - Balázs Orbán was, and is, perfectly correct in his original reasoning.
After all, the government of Ukraine today has an organised, professional defence force: if that has no hope today against Russia, what chance had the disorganised, poorly armed and ill-equipped Hungarian street fighters of 56 against the Soviet behemoth?
The emotional reaction to the original thesis – that it insulted the sacred memory of the heroes of '56 – is a red herring. Balazs Orbán merely said that based on the results of the Hungarian resistance against Moscow's tanks, the effort cost many, precious, Hungarian lives. There was no denial of individual bravery on the part of the revolutionaries, but ultimately - just as Viktor Orbán is incessantly predicting about Ukraine – this proved futile.
So why are the events of 1956 in no way analogous to Ukraine in 2024 (or even 2014)?
Could it be that the reason why the Hungarian Prime Minister so vehemently insists that Hungary in 1956 and Ukraine in 2024 cannot and must not be compared is because, once anyone does this, then the breakdown in his bizarre, Russia-friendly logic of today versus his avowedly anti-Moscow, freedom-fighter arguments of 1956 is readily apparent for all to see – including even to his devoted supporters?
And that, of course, would be politically disastrous.
One other reason for no comparison and not touched on: the Ukrainians, unlike the Hungarians - and just about everyone else - are not afraid of the russians. Try looking at it that way.