It was better under communism
In Hungary, says Petronella Wyatt, the euphoria that followed the collapse of the old regime has been replaced by cynicism and despair Iwas recently having lunch with some friends. ‘The trouble with this country,’ said one, ‘is that no one has any taste, culture or a proper work ethic. The situation is hopeless. It makes one want to despair.’ His wife nodded. ‘All the politicians are useless,’ she complained. ‘There is no one worth voting for.’ Sounds familiar? But the country in question is not Britain; it is Hungary. Being halfHungarian, I visit Budapest every year. What I find there is not encouraging. After the euphoria that followed the break with communism, and then being accepted as a member of Nato and the EU, the nation is now in decline. Visitors compare Budapest unfavourably with Prague, not for its architecture, as they did five years ago, but for its resurgent socialist attitudes. On the surface, this is puzzling, given that historically Hungary is the most Western and vibrant of the former Eastern Bloc countries. It is associated with composers like Liszt, Lehár and Bartók, writers such as Sándor Márai (the author of the bestselling novel Embers) and such creative entrepreneurs as Alexander Korda and George Soros.
But there is nothing creative or entrepreneurial in Hungary today. Inflation, once virtually non-existent, is rising, and so are taxes. Unemployment stands at 7 per cent. There are no incentives for businessmen (except those who know the right politicians). Five years ago the average Hungarian was 10 per cent better off than he or she is today. There are now fewer rich people — those earning £100,000 a year or more — per head of population than in the former Soviet Union and Poland. In the past four years foreign investment has dropped by 20 per cent. Most foreign businessmen have made a loss on their investments. One told me wearily, ‘You can’t trust a Hungarian to go through with a deal, and nobody wants to work, anyway.’ The indigenous rich are in a small minority — creating more local resentment than existed under communism. Many of those who work for the state are former Soviet lackeys. The Prime Minister, Ferenc Gyurcsany, has impeccably far-left credentials. He is married to the grand-daughter of one of the country’s most notorious and feared communists, Antal Apro, who ruthlessly helped to put down the 1956 uprising. He has retaliated to attacks from the Right by vowing to publish a ‘Black Book’ containing the names of all former communists — some, embarrassingly, now right-wing MPs. But the Right has more or less given up. A young politician, who preferred to remain anonymous, explained. ‘As nearly everyone was a former communist, in their bureaucratic attitudes at least, there is nothing we can do but wait 20 years until they die. The Hungarians are very fatalistic about things like that.’ The couple with whom I lunched are former members of the ancien régime, whose family left Hungary at the time of the communist takeover in 1947 and who have returned to live in one of their family’s houses. They say that the problem lies in the lack of a cultured middle class. The bourgeoisie was killed off by decades of communism, and it is hard to see how it will spring back to life given that the Left is firmly back in power.
Because taste and learning were discouraged for nearly 50 years, the Hungarian socialists are unhelpful towards anyone who might bring an element of sophistication to national life. My hosts, having been invited back by the government as a supposedly conciliatory gesture, found that they were expected to pay rent in order to live in a tiny apartment in the home that was stolen from them. Foreign ambassadors to whom I spoke find Hungary almost impossible to acclimatise to. One European ambassador complained that there was ‘simply no one civilised to talk to’. He much preferred his previous posting, to Jordan.
One might think that Hungary, with its striking countryside and potentially magnificent capital, might at least get tourism right. But even the despised Romanians have achieved more in this area. The Hungarian national attitude is one of a resounding ‘no can do’. Shops, restaurants and other attrac tions are closed in an arbitrary fashion, making a trip to Budapest almost farcical. It is the start of what should be the tourist season, yet I found one of Budapest’s most fabled landmarks, the Gellért thermal baths, formerly a haunt of the Duke of Windsor, inexplicably closed. Furious, I questioned a receptionist at the Gellért Hotel, into which the baths have been incorporated. ‘We don’t own the baths,’ he said. ‘All swimming baths are state-owned. When the workers decide not to work they stay closed. We have tried to negotiate with the state but it has proved impossible.’ ‘I thought this was no longer a communist country,’ I said. The silence was deafening. It bounced off the dull brown furniture and drooping palms. It is an indication of Hungary’s predicament that the only attractive hotel with high standards of service and food is the Gresham Palace, which is operated by the Four Seasons chain.
The official tourist guide makes you want to stay in. A full-page advertisement for one of the city’s ‘top’ restaurants, Robinson, reads as follows: ‘Robinson is justly renowned for one of the most unforgettable outdoor dining areas in Budapest.’ The accompanying photograph shows a building covered in heavy snow. It continues: ‘The surprise is that the indoor dining area also has a unique charm. And, even more unexpected, many dishes at Robinson are quite reasonably priced.’ This is one of the most appealing advertisements for dining out or night life in the guide. Another leading attraction is something called the Irish Cat Pub, which takes up another full page. It calls itself the ‘first real Irish pub in Hungary since 1993’. There is a photo of the waitresses all wearing cat’s ears and paintedon whiskers. Since when have cats been associated with Ireland? If none of this excites you, there is the Alcatraz restaurant — ‘special prison-like environment with waiters in prisoner’s clothing’. Nor is there any desire that public-service workers should learn a foreign language. Visiting the old Royal Palace, I repeatedly asked the way to the former throne room. The ‘curators’ repeatedly showed me the way to the lavatory. My hostess was not surprised. ‘What do you expect? The government doesn’t care.’ This intransigence is worse than it was under the last years of communism, when at least the government and population tried to impress visitors with functioning hotels and attractive, accommodating restaurants serving half-decent food. Hungary has often suffered historically — at the hands of the Turks, the Austrians and the Soviets. It is a sad irony that now the suffering — from indigestion to poverty — is self-inflicted. The Magyars have always been a people of extremes — either unrealistically optimistic or despairing. Tiring as such pendulum swings are, at least in the past they inspired achievement. Now, as if exhausted by their history, the Hungarians have lapsed into a fatal lethargy. Some of the results are laughable, but in truth it is tragic. It will be a long time before Hungary is fit to be called a European country.
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