As far as I could ascertain, the far-right Jobbik began to celebrate the arrival of the National Army in Budapest on November 16, 1919 ninety years later, in 2009, when the most radical wing of the party recreated Miklós Horthy’s entrance into the capital, horses and all. Unofficial Horthy statues had been erected before, but that a whole party, which at the next election received 16% of the votes, demonstrated its allegiance to the Horthy regime was something new. A year later, Népszabadság published an article titled “History lesson to stupid right-wing extremists,” which naturally didn’t change the minds of those whose knowledge of Hungarian history was distorted. Their view of the 1918-1919 revolution, followed by 25 years of the Horthy era, was fashioned by the “counterrevolutionaries” of the interwar period.
Horthy nostalgia wasn’t confined to the radical wing of Jobbik. Although the leading lights of Fidesz, like László Kövér, didn’t join the annual pilgrimages of Jobbik on horseback to honor that great day in 1919, it was becoming increasingly obvious that the Orbán regime, under the guise of holding fast to Hungarian traditions, looked upon itself as an heir to the Horthy regime. Hundreds of examples can be cited to support this assertion, from the refashioning of Kossuth Square to its pre-1944 self to Viktor Orbán’s praise of the late governor.
Today’s Jobbik is a very different party from what it was in 2009-2010, when its trademark was anti-Semitism and vicious anti-Roma rhetoric. The more moderate leaders removed the far-right elements from the party leadership and, as a result, the party lost about half of its supporters. Those who abandoned the party most likely ended up voting for Fidesz, which was a rational decision on their part because, in the last ten years or so, Fidesz has taken over all of the earlier radical demands of Jobbik.
So, Jobbik members no longer ride into Budapest on horseback, but there is the Mi Hazánk Mozgalom (MHM/Our Homeland Movement), made up of former party leaders who either deserted or were expelled from the party. Mi Hazánk is most likely financed by Fidesz, which is trying to recreate the political system Viktor Orbán called “central power,” in which Fidesz can be camouflaged as a moderate centrist party positioned between the extreme right and the extreme left. Although MHM received 3.29% of the votes at the European parliamentary election, it is not at all certain that László Toroczkai’s party will be able to replace the old radical Jobbik.
This year, MHM’s recreation of the takeover of the “sinful city” dressed in rags, to quote from Miklós Horthy’s keynote speech after entering the capital, was especially meaningful to this far-right crowd, who are convinced that the municipal elections that ushered in an opposition-led administration has returned Budapest to a Bolshevik city dressed in red rags. They believe it is time to recapture it somehow, to make it once again the capital of a “Christian and national” Hungary. In the interim, they intend to erect a Horthy statue on St. Gellért Square and will suggest awarding an honorary citizenship to the former governor. Such actions would be unlikely under any circumstances, but as long the Karácsony administration is in charge of Budapest, both the statue and the honorary citizenship will remain pipe dreams. The new mayor noted on his Facebook page that, according to historical accounts, the people of Budapest weren’t all that enthusiastic about the arrival of the officer detachments in 1919, and “today I am watching with unequivocal repugnance and disdain the procession of the pseudo-opposition branch of Fidesz in the city.”
László Toroczkai and the people behind him are at the extreme far-right end of the political spectrum. He accused today’s politicians of trying to be the new “mad Mihály Károlyi, the traitor,” Béla Kun, and the murderous Tibor Szamuely. They are “red rats emerging from the sewers.” Péter Jakab, a young Jobbik leader with remarkable rhetorical talent, was one of Toroczkai’s targets. Jakab was accused of talking too much about his Jewish ancestors because “he wants to belong to the red club.” Budapest is supposed to be the capital of Hungarians and not of Béla Kuns. As for the rainbow flags, they are “the symbols of Satan.” I should note that a Hungarian Reformed minister, Attila Kovács, from Zakarpattia Oblast, Ukraine, also spoke at the occasion. On St. Gellért Square the right-extremists were confronted by a group of anti-fascists, while opposition politicians held a press conference in which they called attention to similarities between the Horthy and the Orbán regimes.
Ildikó Lendvai, the former chair of MSZP whose knowledge of Hungarian history and literature is unequaled among politicians, wrote eloquently about these similarities. The opinion piece that appeared in Népszava is titled “Horthy 100, Orbán 30.” She states at the outset that Horthy and Orbán are of course not the same, but their views on Budapest are very similar. This city is suspect because it is too big, too colorful, too diverse, too dynamic. Lendvai quotes a few typical lines from Horthy’s speech, like “I will admit that we hated and cursed Budapest and the filth of the country that converged here,” an image that is today called the “slop coalition.” Horthy often contrasted the people of Budapest with “our rural brethren with sweat of their brow,” inciting villagers against city dwellers. Orbán, who has never felt completely comfortable in Budapest, often talks about “the support of rural Hungary” and says that “these Hungarian people in the countryside can always rely on us.” Lendvai also writes about the White Terror and specifically about the murder of Béla Bacsó and Béla Somogyi, editors of Népszava, who were killed by members of the officers’ detachments. An investigation, lasting ten years, followed, until the prosecutor’s office decided that the culprits had committed their crime out of “national enthusiasm.” As Lendvai says, Péter Polt and his lieutenants are only following a national tradition when they refuse to investigate any and all crimes committed by the ruling elite.
After Lendvai wrote her op-ed piece, a news item appeared about a trip that János Lázár, chief-of-staff of Viktor Orbán until 2018, took to Kenderes today, where the former governor is buried. Lázár placed flowers on the grave, and on a video published on Facebook he talked about how Horthy with his brothers-in-arms and allies saved Hungary. “He was a heroic soldier, a true Hungarian patriot, whom we remember with deference and homage.”
Perhaps next year Fidesz will take over the job of remembering the great day when the White Terror began in Budapest.