Hungarian emigrants in a new homeland - integration and identity in the light of recollections
(Presentation, XVI. International Oral History Conference. Between Past and Future: Oral History, Memory and Meaning)
Prague, 2010 July

Following communist annexation, Hungary was a closed society in many respects. For decades, it was not easy to leave the country. In spite of this, from the mid '40s till demolition of the iron curtain in 1989 more than 400,000 emigrated, leaving everything behind and seeking a new homeland for themselves. Those who fled after 1948, or following the repression of the 1956 revolution, generally crossed the border without legitimate permission or any passport. With consolidation of the system from the end of the '60s, an increasing number did emigrate with valid passports, however.¹

While researching the Oral History Archive of Budapest² between 2001 and 2008, life interviews were done with 36 people who had left Hungary in the communist period, via their own decision (and not as a result of deportation or the decision of parents), and they returned after the change of regime in order to live in the land of their birth once again under changed political and economic conditions. For my lecture I was looking for an answer as to whether these emigrants had found a new 'homeland' in the country of their choice, and had they managed to fit in? How did they relate to their adoptive society, and how did they perceive (evaluate) the attitude of the adoptive society towards them? (Due to limitations of space and time, I have only used the materials from 16 interviews.)

The majority of our interviewees were forced to flee and then adapt to a new community, and accepting and following new norms came about as a matter of course in the case of many, though others rejected this from the beginning, or could not achieve the goal. The two poles of integration are adaptation and adoption - or failure and isolation. Of course, there are several gradations between the two poles too. I shall exemplify - with a few typical quotations - how our emigrant interviewees talked about their adaptation, and how they judged its success from a perspective of more than forty years.

Those who mentioned a successful life-story did not speak of integration as a problem. They wanted to find or create a home in their new country and, in order to do this, self-evidently for them, they had to adapt. For them, integration appeared as a desirable, positive goal. For the most part these were the ones who escaped reprisals from the 1956 revolution.

László³, who fled to Switzerland in 1956 with his mother and brother, firmly resolved to do everything he could to have a successful life. He knew there was no way back, indeed by defecting he had cut himself off from Hungary; and if fate willed it, then he wanted to fit in completely. He banished homesickness to the lowest depths of his soul, deliberately choking down all kinds of nostalgia - for it was clear to him it would be much more difficult to live with these.

"It was easier to "put up a barrier" and say "I will live my life here now". In 1970, who might have anticipated yet another change of regime? No-one! [...] So during those years, Hungary just vanished for me! [...] I quite clearly and specifically belonged to Switzerland then, and life began again for me, and that life has been fortunate and successful. Looking back, the years of adaptation and assimilation were made immensely easier for us by the fact that we could never have imagined ever returning to Hungary!"

János L.⁴ arrived in America in January of 1957. He never considered himself as a defector who had been cut off from his homeland. The years spent far from Hungary did not signify exile; he did not consider living abroad as emigration, but as a natural state of life. He always concentrated solely on the task in hand, and knew that he could only deal with these if he fitted into American society, into a different kind of cultural milieu.

"You just have to get on with what's possible. The task was cut out for my life. There was no way back. You have to think positively. [...] I was out there in America, a whisky glass in one hand, a girl's hand, or waist, in the other..."

Tamás⁵ also accepted Switzerland, his new milieu, almost automatically, adapting easily and without conflict. He had no problem with the language, nor with making a living.  He also enjoyed a successful life, which he ascribes more to his own make-up and abilities than to the otherwise very favourable circumstances.

"I believe that people always bear their own fate in themselves. Circumstances count for less. I have the feeling that if I had been sent to Kolyma, I would have found friends there too. It's true that life is more difficult there. You have to dig up roots by hand there, and chew them. Some people live in beautiful palaces, and have everything, and they are still unhappy. [...] Of course, in that respect for sure that I had luck, but I built my luck in part by myself."

Ágota⁶ lived in Zürich from the autumn of 1957. It was more difficult for her to fit it: although she attempted to understand and accept the Swiss mentality, a lot of things upset her. She felt that "political slavery has ceased" but, instead, she had been taken into "social slavery", into a system of written and unwritten rules, where she constantly had to be careful to behave as she was expected to. In her story, she presented herself as a woman who never longed to return to Hungary. Her life was by no means free of problems as yet, yet she always felt that the difficulties arose not from given circumstances but from her own personality. Only after several decades had passed did she realise, while doing the interview, that the fact of being an emigrant may have contributed to why it had been so difficult for her to find her place in the world.

"I was never homesick. I never thought that things would be easier for me at home. I thought that my personal problems would be exactly the same here too. Let's say, I perhaps didn't understand the role of one's surroundings, of the environment well enough then... though I can understand better now that my environment also played a part. Obviously the whole emigration situation made my position more difficult, though I did not understand that as well as I do now."

The emigrant life, though not always smooth-running, was by no means unsuccessful for Andrea⁷. She found her place in the new world. Persons accepted her, and she was also accepting. She adopted an "American pace of life, and didn't look back". She had interesting, profitable jobs, and although there were problems in her private life, on the whole the balance came out positive. The most striking thing about her narrative is that wherever she went, she made use of her old, aristocratic connections from here at home. There was almost "a network of Hungarians", everyone helped one other, even if they did not know each other, and this provided a sense of security. And although she also had contacts with members of the adoptive society, she considered these to be more superficial and less valuable due to the lack of common cultural roots.

"As a single Hungarian woman, I was unable to form any relationship which also had a future. Although I like Americans, the mentality is so different. It would have been difficult, for instance, to enter into marriage with an American. There was no starter-motor there. So when I said 'Chain Bridge', he would look at me like a stuck pig."

Antal⁸ left the beginnings of a promising writing career behind in 1956. He spoke of his adaptation through his new vocation. After his early recognition, as an emigrant to England it was very difficult, in fact almost impossible, to create something of value with the Hungarian language abroad; yet he could not live among vain fantasies, and he had to get over this crisis point.

"I had to concentrate on things: learning English. I suddenly found myself in another language territory, and for a while you expect people to start speaking Hungarian; then you realise they are not going to speak Hungarian. So should I be an emigrant Hungarian writer? I took a look at some emigrant Hungarian writers, and I saw that they were living in a complete fantasy world, so that was not the way to go. [...] I reached the point where I had to look for a larger context, not exchange Hungarian for English, but look for a context big enough for all this to fit in. And then I set out in the direction of humanism. Humanism was not a new concept for me, but it became more important than previously."

A restless adventurer, Tibor⁹ always longed for something else or to be somewhere else. He left Hungary in 1966 out of adventurousness. He had been looking for change and variety for his whole life; and in order to be accepted, he adapted easily and happily. He was also predestined for this way of life by his outlook and constitution.

"I felt completely at home, wherever I went, moving around Australia... I really enjoyed myself anywhere; I found zest everywhere, curiosities, peculiarities, had fleeting relationships, acquaintanceships. [...] I fit in. You could say I lived a full life, on paper. But I constantly had the feeling that here today, gone tomorrow, and nothing really matters."

His recollections are full of reflection. As for fitting in, he argued for the need for reciprocity. He knew he had to act in order to be received and accepted and, in parallel with this, he also had to accept the culture of others.

"A clever person would decide to make connections with original people, because we first had to get ourselves accepted in order to live a life free of hitches. This does not mean that you should lose your identity. There is a proverb, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." [...] So when an emigrant goes to a foreign country, he has to accept that this people may have a different mentality; also by virtue of its culture it has different customs, a different attitude to religion, and is involved with a lot of different things compared to what we are... So you have to acquire this, politely adopt it from them, so you can then always manage to make a living somehow."

It is difficult to analyse Csaba's¹⁰ narrative from the perspective of fitting in. This avant-garde photographic artist arrived in the West in 1967 and, since then, his life has been filled with some kind of mystical quest, a longing for ultimate knowledge. He has therefore always been en route somewhere, in both senses of the word. He has been almost all over the world, visiting all the places he remembered during his reincarnation meditations. He has never settled down anywhere, and never looked for a homeland for himself; he felt that the journey into the interior of the soul was most important.

"The concept of a homeland has never had a hold on me. I felt at home anywhere and everywhere. If I did not feel at home, I moved on. There are countries which I find attractive, and where I have lived too, where I stayed for a longer time - and there are countries I saw as less appealing. [...] You are at home when you come home inside! You interior home is the most important thing."

The majority of these people already knew the language in question; and they were acquainted with the adoptive country and its culture. They were open to new things, and their accepting attitude helped them to fit in. In no case, however, did they wish to adapt or to be so loyal to the new country that this would lead to total assimilation. They defined themselves as Hungarian throughout; none of them denied their roots, and they maintained their native language and culture. So emigration solved the problem that had served to banish them: they could live in a free world, where they were not disadvantaged by their origin or political convictions. The question of national status was important for a few of them; they talked in detail about their - largely positive - experiences in this regard in their narratives. Conversely, others did not devote a great deal of thought to this issue, while some did not even mention it, though in no case did this signify rejection of the nationality question.

On the other hand, in stories which appear less successful or even failures from the point of view of adaptation, the question of being Hungarian was given special significance or strikingly great emphasis, yet mostly in a negative way. Several persons lived in isolation, sunk in their Hungarian identity, through decades of being emigrants. When these people introduced themselves, they displayed Hungarian ties full of powerful emotional emphasis. Awareness of their Hungarian identity broke forth when they emigrated, and it was reinforced over the years. Some almost felt that integration was something to be ashamed of, or they flatly rejected it.

András¹¹ ended up in Los Angeles after '56 thanks to a relief organisation. He talked of his life abroad in two ways. He did everything he could to create financial security for his family on the one hand, and to preserve his Hungarian identity on the other. His stories are arranged according to these very strong Hungarian ties. The way he phrased things makes it seem that he never wanted to fit into American society. He spoke of blending in not just as a strategy that one should not follow - it was one to be condemned. He presented himself as a true patriot who wanted to preserve his Hungarian identity at any cost.
"We organised a very nice little church, where the services were held in Hungarian. And I enjoyed myself very much. I am not a great church-goer, but this was important for the sake of the children, and for the purpose of preserving our Hungarian identity. And the scouting was also important. [...] The children learnt Hungarian folksongs and poems, and they had to speak Hungarian."

In the same way as him, a great many more sealed themselves off almost hermetically from the society of the adoptive country. They lived amongst themselves, mainly choosing Hungarian marriage partners, and maintaining hardly any close links with Americans at all. Naturally, they mainly spoke Hungarian; in fact, in order to maintain and hand down their Hungarian identity, they placed great emphasis on the mother tongue, even at the expense of the English language. In line with this, the interviewee himself only acquired the English language at a rudimentary level, and always needed help with official matters.
In the case of János12 Cs., the motivation for his isolation was completely different. In his life at an everyday level he may have adapted completely, but he consciously rejected any idea of assimilation throughout the several decades of his emigration - in fact he fought against it. His primary goal was the maintenance of his integrity as a writer, and he could only imagine this by consciously isolating himself from the different culture and language of his surroundings.

"I did not want to blend in anywhere or in any way. For 50 years I had to fight against being Anglicised or Frenchified, and to think in Hungarian. It was not enough for me merely not to forget that I was Hungarian - there to be some development in what I wrote. According to my observations, it is not advisable for intellectuals who are attached to their language to live in another country for a long period because they will take over the others' customs and idioms unconsciously, and this shows. I was fortunate enough that it was my fate never to stay anywhere for more than 12 years. I have some dear friends who have lived in one country for 50 years and, however much they try, you can be sure the foreign influence will be perceived in their texts. This is a double burden for a poet, who first of all has to take care not to forget Hungarian."
Ervin's¹³ recollections are arranged according to a list of reasons for failures and unsuccessful adaptation; his story includes a series of disappointments. He did not find a new home, he remained without a fatherland. Whether he lived in Canada or in England, he was confronted with the fact of being different. He felt like a foreigner all the time, that is, he told of being treated as a foreigner and looked down upon. He was plagued by constant homesickness; it weighed on his mind all the time that he had had to leave his homeland.

"There are two kinds of emigrant. One who leaves to start a new life, and the other who is escaping... I escaped. In '56, I wanted to sacrifice my life for my homeland. This is a very interesting thing: who or what does an orphan have? Nothing, just his homeland... [...] Yet I had to leave the country! I left under compulsion, and I was very depressed. [...] I was eaten up by homesickness, I mean that seriously. [...] The outcome was trauma in my life. It hurts me a lot when people here say, "Oh, it's all right for you!" They don't know that it wasn't all right! We went to church, to a Catholic church, just to get together with people a bit - because I'm not Catholic... And at the end we would sing the National Anthem, and everyone there cried. People don't know what it means to be a fugitive."

Dénes István¹⁴ went to England. He appeared to fit in, married an English woman, and his life and lifestyle did not differ from that of the average British citizen. Although he said at one point in the interview that the English accepted him, he had no friends, neither at work nor in his private life. He repeatedly spoke of how much he missed the old family atmosphere in which he moved and felt at home with at one time in the past in Hungary.

"I don't want to criticise the English, because they took me in. They accepted me, and did not make me feel like a foreigner. After ten years, they told me I now belonged there with them. [...] But I missed talking about the family, and politics... Who are you? Where do you come from? They said, you are English now, so do things like we do... When in Rome, do as the Romans do!"

The most dramatic counterpoint to what was said about acceptance was that his family regarded him as an outsider throughout, and his wife directly forbade the children from learning Hungarian. In fact, when arguing on one occasion, his son told him to his face that he was a foreigner.

"Well, he once said to me, "Bloody foreigner!" Then he grabs me and hangs on, and the middle son came in to separate us! What do you mean by calling me a 'bloody foreigner'? I said, "Now you get out of here!"
Many of those who emigrated during the Kádár regime left in such a way that they ultimately wanted to cut all ties with the country and never come back. Although they can also be regarded as political refugees, they did not emigrate to avoid direct reprisals, physical maltreatment, imprisonment or hanging, like the majority of their fellow refugees who fled after the repression of the revolution. They had more than just a few days or a few weeks - their decision matured in them over a long period. They had tried for years to expand the boundaries permitted by the system, and had attempted to make their lives in Hungary meaningful, or at least bearable. They then refused to live in their fatherland, yet this conscious separation did not necessarily include successful adaptation.

Mátyás¹⁵ is a self-taught painter who went to Paris with his family in 1983, and was given political asylum. He could not sell his pictures, however; his art was not appreciated; and he did not accept the graphic arts life in France, and did not adopt it. Although he left Hungary knowing there was no way back, he could not fit into French conditions - nor did he want to. His recollections are thus characterised by rejection.

"From the first moment, I considered my getaway final. I really did leave here. I did not think for a moment that I would ever come back to this country, even once, just for a visit... So this was a complete separation. I consciously chose to be displaced; though I did wonder from time to time, whether I wanted to be or would ever be the national or citizen of some country. [...] It is a shocking lesson - and a basic experience in France too - that someone is forced actually to give himself up completely, his earlier life and everything. But it is no longer valid that it is a different world, and not just linguistically..."
László¹⁶ N. left the country in 1979. During the years of emigration his contact with his homeland was completely broken; he did not approach emigrant Hungarians, having had extremely negative experiences with them. He also rejected Hungarian culture, he threw his Hungarian books away, and for a long time was unwilling to speak Hungarian. "My goal was to think in English." In spite of all this he could not fit in, either in France, or in Canada or in New York. He was lonely throughout, the common cultural background being missing from social gatherings.

"You can't really make friends abroad - you can make acquaintances. So there were a couple of people I had contact with, but these were very superficial matters. [...] I found no partners on an intellectual level. So there was no way to talk to anyone about a book, or about pictures. I met dozens of kind-hearted, helpful people. As humans they were fantastic, yet not intellectually. [...] They had their own world, and I had to adjust. So I could not talk about my own world, just about theirs."
András¹⁷, a painter frozen out of Hungary, was given political asylum in Paris in 1979, then went to America one year later on an immigrant's passport. He enjoyed success, but he was not at home either in American society or in New York art life.

"I did not try to be American, and I did not create my own Hungarian world either. I had Hungarian friends whom I met regularly, I also had deep relationships with Americans. But I never managed to take on the rhythm and the mentality completely. At an everyday level, I automatically lived like people in New York live. I took a deep breath, and lived through things from one day to the next."

Attila¹⁸ also talked about wanting to turn his back on his fatherland forever when he left. "I'll look for another language, another country, another people." He tried in several countries. Although he talks about never feeling homesick, not wanting to come home, finding his own milieu, he still could not fit in elsewhere as this is only possible with certain limitations. He then gradually came to understand that his roots and culture were Hungarian, and after fifteen years of emigration he awoke to his Hungarian identity. He realised that prosperity and political freedom were not enough - he missed the culture that he could identify with most deeply.

"Whoever learnt the language well could see the sort of good they could get... Not having been born there was definitely a disadvantage. You start to realise that you will never be Swiss or French or Italian - and in fact, you don't even want to be like them. You realise you are Hungarian, and Hungarians - almost with a nationalist perception - are a better people than these. At least, Hungarians are resourceful in a lot of ways. You can't be different - so be Hungarian! And after a while it's very important to be Hungarian."
Whether they escaped or whether they left the country with official permission, upon crossing the border a new life - or at least a new period of life - had begun for the emigrants. Our interviewees had lost their homes, jobs and fatherland, and some of them even their families. They found themselves in a strange place, in circumstances absolutely different from what they were used to, in a different society, one which they had to get to know and in which they had to start a new life. Their position was not at all easy, even if their start was helped by propitious circumstances. Some of them began/continued their lives effortlessly, almost automatically, in the new homeland, while others fought hard with clenched teeth in order to cope. Some never found their place, and some refused from the beginning to live like citizens of the adoptive country. We have seen in how many ways they recalled and explained what it meant to change their homeland, to make a new home and live a meaningful life. Yet we did not encounter a single interview where the forced emigration had ended in tragedy or had caused total collapse. Not a single conducted emigrant here expressed doubts with regard to the correctness of his/her former decision; no-one said anything which would lead us to conclude that they regretted it. This is easy to understand in the case of those who told us of successful careers: why would they question their former decision? However, those who recounted difficulties concerning fitting in, and possibly failures, did not express doubts either. Their most important desire - that which drove them - was fulfilled. They were able to life in a free world, where they were not persecuted for their faith, political convictions or different type of lifestyle, or for just being different.

Notes:
1 People fled chiefly to the states of Western Europe (mainly to the one-time Federal Republic of Germany, France or Switzerland) and countries of the American continent (Canada and USA), though not infrequently to Israel and Australia.
2 www.rev.hu
3 Born in 1936 into a well-off bourgeois family. Studied at Budapest University of Technology. Took part in the revolution in 1956. Left the country at the end of November. Completed his studies at ETH Zürich, then took a position with Swissair. Following the change of regime he bought a house by Lake Balaton, and spends half of the year here.
4 Born in 1939 into a bourgeois family. Took part in the armed conflict in 1956 with Veszprém University students. The Soviet authorities deported him to Uzhgorod in November, then to Striy, and brought him home in December. He defected at the end of the year. He obtained a degree in political economy in America in 1961, then worked as a transactor and manager. He was repatriated in 1991. 
5 Born in 1931 into a well-to-do bourgeois family. He was expelled from the university in 1953 due to his class-alien origin. He was a cyclist of competition standard. Settled in Switzerland after the revolution, founded an independent computer science company in 1970. Bought a vineyard at the beginning of the nineties, is now involved in wine production and marketing.
6 Born in Budapest in 1937. Not accepted for university due to her class-alien origin. After the repression of the revolution, settled in Switzerland with her family. Worked as a teacher and later as a social worker. Repatriated in 1999, is involved in charity work.
7 Born in 1933 into a bourgeois family. Left the country at the end of 1956, emigrated to the USA in 1961, worked in the textile profession. She was repatriated in 1996.
8 Born in 1934 into a professional-bourgeois family. As a university student took part in the demonstrations of October 1956. Settled in London in 1957. Studied philosophy and psychology, and practised as a psychoanalyst. Was repatriated in 2000.
9 Born in 1943 into a petty bourgeois family. He was a waiter in several major hotels. Defected in 1966 via Yugoslavia. Settled in Australia, has been a restaurant manager and hotel duty manager. Was repatriated with his Hungarian wife in 1996.
10 Born in 1938 as the child of officials. Became an artist. Regularly exhibited his photographs from the mid-sixties. He was a member of a group of avant-garde artists. Defected via Yugoslavia in 1967, lived in several countries, for many years in communes. Interested in esotericism and astronomy. Was repatriated in 1992.
11 Born in 1930 into a professional family. He was a member of the Hungarian Olympic swimming team. Joined a resistance group at the beginning of the fifties, was caught and convicted. Got away during the revolution. Defected, settled in Los Angeles. He was a semi-skilled worker. Launched his own business in 1984, but it went bankrupt. Was repatriated in 1996.
12 Born in 1928 into a bourgeois family. Fled the country in the spring of 1949. Worked in several cities in Europe as journalist and radio editor. Was repatriated in 1999. Several volumes of his poetry have been published.
13 Born in 1932. Lost his parents in the war. Studied agriculture at university. Lived in Canada from 1957, and in England from 1961. Worked as a laboratory technician. Was repatriated in 1990 with his English wife.
14 Born in 1929 as the child of farmers. He was a university student when he was arrested on a charge of conspiracy. Got out in 1956, left the country on 4 November. He was a research engineer in Great Britain, then worked as a bus driver. Was repatriated in 2003.
15 Born in 1951 into a professional family. Self-taught painter. Was editor of a samizdat magazine in the seventies. Lived by undertaking casual work in France. Was repatriated in 1993.
16 Born in 1946 into a professional family. Worked in alternative theatres, participated in founding a punk band. Lived in Europe from 1979 and in New York from 1985. Undertook casual work for the most part. Was repatriated in 2002.
17 Born in 1946 into an intellectual family. Participated in fine art exhibitions with an avant-garde ethos, but could never exhibit officially and could not find a job. Left the country in 1979, settled in Paris and then in New York. Exhibited in East Village galleries between 1983 and '87. Was repatriated in 1990; is featured regularly in exhibitions.
18 Born in 1945 into an intellectual family. After completing secondary school he worked as a freelance journalist, then as a disc jockey. Left Hungary in 1978. Made a living from casual work in Paris, then was given economic asylum in Sweden. He was a labourer, and also read philosophy and sociology at Stockholm University. Was later a hotel porter in Lugano. Was repatriated in 1991.