The crowd at Lakadalom* is conservative and eager to learn, which is precisely how István likes it. A man in his early forties, he has been tasked with monitoring events at the venue, which finds him as frequently on the door as it does on the stage, hosting events. István looks as removed from a thug as a kitten is from a lion, but what he lacks in stature he more than makes up for in fervor. His mission: to make Hungary great again. Which takes on a slightly different connotation to that dreaded American slogan, though the sentiment is the same.
For the Kingdom of Hungary was once great. Not just in intellect but also in size. And then things happened (as they do), wars were fought, and territories were ceded following the decline of the Austro-Hungarian Kingdom and Empire. To István and his friends it is always the Kingdom, never the empire. Because the legendary crown of the saint and King of Hungary for whom he was named, as István often states, is everything. We’ll get to that later, as first there is the pressing issue of seating the crowd, because the place is filling up fast and the program about to begin. As venues go, Lakadalom is neither big nor small, it is in fact family sized, the kind of place you would hope to take your wife and offspring to on a Sunday, as a treat. The inn of old tales. But no matter how you look at it, Lakadalom is cozy enough for people to feel they’re having a good time. And it’s filling up fast, long before the talk is scheduled to start.
The topic today, as in fact always, is Hungary’s Greatness. By now, after years of such lectures, the audience already knows that they belong to the Greatest Nation on God’s green Earth, bar absolutely none. There is no question about that for the attendees. Some heard this in the 1990s, when Orbán and his merry men started getting some traction before winning elections, while some came to the party and that knowledge much later. Yet others have known this for a century and a year, the precise point in time when the Trianon Treaty was signed, sealing Hungary’s fate. The Trianon Treaty as a means of stirring up emotions has been tried, tested and pronounced always successful by the spin doctors behind all of Orbán’s campaigns, much like the reviled migrant / Muslim threat (for the migrant is always Muslim and male), which was taken straight from the “Roma = bad” playbook making the rounds decades earlier.
It is an interesting concept, milking defeat for the sake of nationalistic pride. But, with this crowd, it works. Because – in their minds at least – they have been slighted, an act of cruelty has been committed against their forefathers and as any self-respecting Hungarian will confirm, the nation’s entire history and self worth is deeply steeped in pathos. It is with this in mind that the pub has created its educational talks for all those who are keen on preserving the good old Hungarian values: fear God, show pride in your heritage, and give three children to the nation. All with a good, very (un)healthy dose of national nostalgia; nods to traditional Hungarian folk dress and customs are everywhere, in the décor as much as in the clothes of the attendees, who laugh and joke freely like close relatives at a family gathering. The speakers themselves are decorated with degrees and can back up their claims with evidence that is intellectual enough for the Hungarian palate (which has always valued education and held its teachers, researchers and doctors of philosophy in the highest esteem) but not so intellectual as to be alienating. Their words are meant to stir the hearts of the lovers of the nation.
István, like all those present, loves his country. And this means not only standing up for its rights but also defending it every chance that he gets, physically or verbally. Slight of built and getting on in age (at 50 he is, in his own words, more distant from the cradle than he is from the grave) he much prefers the latter, but it still does not stop him from weekly altercations when he sees something that insults his sensibilities, for Hungary’s honor must always be defended. Especially from the traitor, who manifests in many ways: the homosexual depriving the nation of his seed (while committing godless acts and forcing little innocent boys into even more godless acts because, as István and his friends know, every homosexual is a raging pedophile; the fact that many of István’s friends are with girls barely in their teens and freely laugh about never taking no for an answer is of no importance to them); the individual who doesn’t procreate by putting at least three children on this earth; by defect of birth and skin tone, the migrant, the Roma and the Jew, and last but not least, anyone who does not acknowledge Hungary’s and its great leader’s greatness.
All these must be fought against to protect the sacred home, be it the hearth of the family or the soil of the nation. Because this is the pact that – according to István and his friends – the first Hungarian king made with God, before he was crowned and accepted his fate, a pact that must be upheld at all times: the eleventh commandment. “The need of the nation outweighs the need of the individual” is the slogan he lives by and will – if need be – die by as well. István is already making provisions for chiseling the words onto his tombstone. Anything for the Nation, which must always be defended. But above all that is God, and then there is the crown.
“I am,” István proudly declares, “a royalist.”
What he means by this is that he believes in the Crown, the Holy Crown of his namesake, the crown that symbolizes the Kingdom of Hungary. When Hungary was Great, and its borders stretched far. Three years and six days ago, István converted to Catholicism and he still gets teary-eyed when he remembers the day and all that it brought with it. His faith means everything to him, which would also explain why he is so keen on Dear Leader, who has always styled himself as the gatekeeper of true Christian values and in István’s case is the reason he converted. But István does not see Orbán as God, “though he is a good leader, keeper of our values and always ready to carry out the word and will of the Lord. After all, if it were not so, our crown would not be prominently displayed in the pride of the nation – the National Parliament Building.”
*Names have been changed. The name Lakadalom was chosen as it is a word describing the Hungarian wedding celebration in the village, where people ate, drank and were merry for three days from the day of the wedding. They are popular with young and old, from all walks of life or nationalist inclination and usually involve a Roma band with songs that befit the occasion. A lakadalom will always evoke a smile on most people’s faces, for the celebratory element and the deep symbolism it entails.
Image credit: Zsolt Kristaly