The Phoenix Land (49 page)

This was not a recent development. It had been the same ever since the Reformation, and I found deeply interesting everything that the Swiss had to teach me during this visit.

In the early days of the reform of the Church the upper
cantons
were Catholic, while the lower ones were Protestant. Despite this the Catholic cantons raised cattle, cheese and other milk products and sold them to the Protestants, while they in return sent back flour, tanned hides, agricultural implements, even guns and gunpowder. It had been agreed that the wares of one faction would be deposited at a specified border stone and, on the
following
day the other would bring their counter-value to the same spot. No one cheated; and the two sides never met, for they had realized that, should they catch sight of one another, blood might be spilt and someone might get killed. But commerce was
peaceful
– and necessary to life. What an admirable spirit! And all this at the same time as those religious wars in which Tilly
slaughtered
babes-in-arms at Magdeburg during the Peasant’s Rising in Germany, when all culture was destroyed and churches burned – together with anyone, of whatever religion, unlucky enough to have sought refuge inside – and when even the crops were set on fire so that the country people would starve to death.

For us the most important issues were now the frontier questions.

We appealed against the new Austrian border largely for the sake of form, since the essential aspects had already been settled at the Venice conference and the king’s
putsch
had put an end to further serious negotiation. Still, there were one or two
borderline
villages whose status had still to be decided.

More important was the frontier with the new Yugoslavia.

By the terms of the Treaty of Trianon the south-western corner of the county of Vas, where only Hungarians lived, had been given to Yugoslavia; as had Murakös, where the inhabitants were Slovenes who hated the Croats and whose capital was Szombathely, which had been left in Hungary. Both these
disputed
territories depended economically on Hungary, since the Slovenes were cut off by the river Drava (Drau in German), and the inhabitants of County Vas by ranges of mountains. Also the purely Hungarian Ormanság now found itself in Yugoslav Baranya.

To obtain the return of all these diverse territories by
application
to a committee of the League of Nations seemed to me a hopeless task. The only solution would be if I could come to some arrangement directly with the Serbian foreign minister, Ninçic; so I went to see him.

It was at once clear that Ninçic too favoured our coming to an agreement without reference to the League of Nations. I used the same argument with him as I had with Benes, that is the great moral force of a voluntary agreement. With Ninçic there was also another reason, which was well-known at the time, and that was that Horthy was anxious to settle the question of Szeged with Belgrade, and if we two could somehow get rid of the more contentious border problem, then, as Hungarians had far more in common with the Serbs that with any of our other neighbours – both being bold brave people – there would be no reason to keep us from being good friends.

Our negotiations went smoothly enough and the next day, accompanied by Fedor Vest, I went to Ninçic’s apartment to settle the smaller details for, no matter how amicable the general agreement, it is always the minutiae which will determine its ultimate success or failure. This is especially true of an
agreement
concerning borders for which details of population
distribution, water supplies, land-holdings and communications are vitally important. We arrived well armed with maps and statistics.

Ninçic received us, along with two secretaries, one of which I fancy was a military man in civilian clothes, and also the Serbian ambassador to Bern, who had come to Geneva expressly for this meeting.

We quickly came to a full agreement. We divided the issues into two parts. As regards the borders of Bácska and Baranya, we agreed upon an exchange of territory by which Yugoslavia obtained more territory but fewer inhabitants while we retained more people. This was because the part of Baranya to be returned to Hungary was largely inhabited by those of Hungarian origin, who would thereby come back to their mother country. This seemed to me to me more important than holding on to largely uninhabited land just because it had once been ours.

As to the corner of County Vas and Murakös, we agreed to a plebiscite. I had no doubts that this would have a happy outcome for us, for the Hungarian inhabitants of County Vas would vote unanimously to remain Hungarian; while in Murakös most of the Slovenes hated both the Serbs and the Croats so much that they would almost certainly vote for Hungary. It was also very much in their economic interest to do so.

Our discussions were most friendly, although the Serbian ambassador from Bern did his best to make them not so. It was clear that he opposed the arrangement, and at one moment he asked Ninçic to go with him into the next room, whence we could all hear a noisy altercation between them. Ninçic, however, remained firm and announced, as soon as he returned to us, that we could sign the agreement without delay. My secretaries, before leaving the Beau-Rivage, had already drawn up the necessary documents with full details of place names, quota numbers and geographical data (leaving blank spaces only for the places and dates of possible plebiscites). We had done this because, in the case of delicate or difficult negotiations, it always seems wise to be prepared with the necessary draft documents since, if there is any delay, anyone opposing the agreement can use it to disrupt the negotiations.

The Serbian was still rude and ill tempered, and I was
astonished
that Ninçic should have permitted someone junior to him to speak like that in the presence of strangers. I would not have tolerated it for an instant. However: other countries, other
customs
! Of course, I had not understood what had passed between them, but several times I heard the name of the Yugoslav prime minister mentioned and assumed that the ambassador was
menacing
Ninçic with him. But it was of no moment; the signing was done and we left in joyous mood.

I went off at once to find Hymans, the Belgian delegate. He was chairman of the border committee, and I felt it was
important
that he should first hear of the amicable solution to our border problems from the Hungarian side, since everyone always remembers the man who brings good news, and I wanted him to think of Hungary as a peacemaker. I told him all the essential details of our agreement and then asked him to postpone the next meeting of the committee until ratification had arrived from both governments.

I did not, of course, mention that there might be any doubt as to whether our government would ratify the agreement. On the contrary, I emphasized that I was sure the government would grasp the occasion with joy as showing, in this most delicate of matters, our desire for peace.

I said ‘would grasp’ in the future tense; and my reason for this was that I had already received an answer from Budapest to my first telegram outlining the agreement reached with Ninçic, and it had instructed me to sign nothing until the cabinet had approved the terms. I could not be bound by this, as it would have been impossible to reach any agreement if everything had to be subject to a two-day delay while telegrams were exchanged, especially as on one side no one would have had the chance to study the texts. There are times when responsibility simply has to be shouldered and, when something seems to be right, one must simply go ahead and sign it. Then, if the government, by now in possession of the full text, disapproves, one resigns and one’s signature automatically becomes null and void. But to wait for previous permission would be pointless. Anyway, in this
situation
I was sure that as soon as I spoke to Bethlen, who after all
would have the last word in this matter, he would agree that we had done an excellent piece of work and would give his approval.

I had another reason to make public the intentions of the Hungarian government at that moment. I had hardly left Ninçic’s apartment before I was sure that Pasic would very
probably
try to make trouble. The behaviour of his ambassador to Bern, his provocative manner and passionate quarrel with his own chief of mission, seemed likely to herald another storm, which might well result in objections from the Serbian side. If this were to occur then was it not as well that
my
government should be seen to be wearing the peacemaker’s halo?

A few days went by, during which another and more strongly phrased telegram arrived from Budapest demanding again that I sign nothing more without prior consent. Until this was sent, they said, the agreement must be considered invalid, and I was reprimanded for putting my signature to it. I fancy this was the work of Kánya, who sat in my place at cabinet meetings and did everything he knew to belittle whatever I achieved by constantly referring to form and precedent. I passed several very
disagreeable
days. I had already decided that if necessary I would resign; but it would not be pleasant to have to go back to Hymans and tell him that the Hungarian government had declined to honour the agreement I had signed. However, very soon there arrived from Pasic a telegram instructing Ninçic to denounce the
agreement
and forbidding him to enter into any discussion on the matter whatsoever. He therefore found himself obliged to declare to the League of Nations that his own government had forsaken him; and so Serbia got the blame for frustrating the agreement.

A few days later the border committee met again.

We sat at a big round table, tightly pressed together, as the frontier specialists also had to be found places. Fedor Vest was beside me. He seemed calm and indeed took part in all our
discussions
in a completely calm and matter-of-fact manner. No one could have guessed how excited he really was. I was the only one who knew, and that was because, closely pressed together as we were, I could feel his shoulder trembling against mine. I feel it still today when I think about it.

When Hymans praised us and said a few soothing words about Yugoslavia, I could sense that the general feeling of the
committee
was becoming sympathetic towards us.

We explained out position with regard to the Murakösz and the little corner of County Vas and asked for a plebiscite there. The Serbian envoy wanted to stick strictly to the terms of the peace treaty, and the decision went against us. It was clear that word had been received from the Victorious Powers – in effect the Quai d’Orsay. We knew already that this would be so. Still, I was pleased that after the meeting many of those present came up to me to say how much they appreciated our conciliatory and understanding attitude.

Ninçic did not attend this meeting. It was clear that he was embarrassed that his government had forsaken him and allowed him to lose face before the League of Nations. Sympathizing with what he must be feeling, I went straight round to see him. When there is trouble is the time when human relations must come first. Ninçic was overjoyed to see me. I told him at once that the collapse of our agreement in no way affected my
admiration
for him and that I deeply regretted only that the friendly cooperation between our two countries, which had been so clearly adumbrated in the first sentences of the agreement we had signed, could not now be realized as soon as we had hoped. I declared, however, that I still firmly believed in it and would continue to do so. At the end of our talk we agreed to keep in touch, privately and to pass on news of anything that might damage friendly relations between our two countries. If we could do nothing else we would continue to work for a real and lasting
rapprochement
between the Hungarian and Yugoslav peoples.

I left office a few months later; and so did Ninçic. Nothing was to come of our mutual work, and yet I remember him with
sympathy
and pleasure for he was a man of wide understanding and full of good will.

In mid-September we came to the election of those countries to have seats on the Council of the League of Nations. This was to be the body that took all major decisions, and its composition was therefore of the highest importance. I then heard the
alarming news that both England and France were intending to insist on a place for the new Yugoslavia.

For us this would be a dreadful setback, since it would be this Council that would consider any complaints from the ethnic Hungarian minorities in the newly formed or enlarged
neighbouring
states. Until now such complaints had not met with much sympathy, but at least the Council had been thought of as impartial. That now one of the ‘Little
Entente
’ countries was to be in the seat of judgement when cases in which her own or her neighbours’ minorities were to be decided, and also have the right to make judgements where her own interests were involved, was an unbearable thought.

This caused me many a sleepless night and came at a time when I was already tormented by gnawing personal problems. From the moment I had achieved Hungary’s acceptance as a full member of the League of Nations I had been the subject of attack and vilification in our national press: principally, of course, in the Legitimist papers. I was accused of having given away any amount of Hungary’s national treasures to obtain that acceptance by agreeing to the most humiliating terms without in return imposing any conditions to preserve the nation’s honour. And what was worse, these accusations were made not merely by journalists of no standing but also by no less a figure than Apponyi himself (in an article in the
Budapesti Hirlap
). It was immediately clear to me that if Yugoslavia were to obtain a seat on the Council no one would ever believe that this had not been the price I had agreed to pay for our own admission as a member state. No one would ever believe that I had not had a hand in this and that it had not been part of a bargain struck by me. The slander would stick to me as long as I lived, like a convict’s brand, and I could already hear my enemies’ shouts of triumph as they roared out calls of ‘Traitor!’ I was in terrible anguish of mind.