“No.... I did not know....”
“Under the influence of this event Károlyi’s government admitted that it did not intend to wait for the constitutional assembly to decide on the form the Constitution should take. ‘Companion’ Bokányi abolished Kingship on the day of the revolution.... He does not want it, nor does Kunfi, nor Pogány. Baron Hatvany, Jászi and Paul Kéri are all against it; in short, Kingship has to go.... They made Károlyi sign a declaration for form’s sake, but that does not count. But if it interests you, let us go to the editorial office of the Pesti Naplo where we can read all about it.”
In the lighted window, among the latest news, there it was, the text of the proclamation: “The Hungarian National Council has addressed a solemn request to the National Councils formed in the various towns and communes, that they should decide at once whether they agree with the decision of the Hungarian National Council that the future form of the Hungarian state be that of a Republic. A rapid decision and immediate answer are requested.”
I felt the same inexpressible disgust that I always feel when I read the writings of the new power. “An immediate answer is requested ...” as if an agent were asking for orders ... “a rapid decision” ... as if it were an auction of somebody’s old clothes: the crown of St. Stephen and the traditions of a thousand Hungarian years.
“Don’t let it annoy you,” my companion said bitterly; “it is only a comedy. It makes no difference what they write, and it’s just the same whatever the country answers. The secretariat of the Social Democratic party and the other ‘companions’ have already settled the question. On November the 16th they are going to proclaim the republic, and Károlyi is to be President. And we shall say nothing and do nothing.”
“And how long are we going to do nothing?”
“What can one do? I was at the front for forty-four months. I was wounded three times. I’m ill and I’m tired. And in other places it’s even worse than here. In Berlin they are shooting in the streets. Officers, loyal to the Kaiser, and the Red Guards cut each other’s throats in Unter den Linden. Machine-guns fire from the roofs of the houses. Red sailors have occupied the imperial palace, and corpses lie between the barricades. Here, they rarely knock a man down, and they only take his watch once.” He laughed painfully. “You know I was buried by a shell in my trench. They had to dig for some time before they found me, and the earth was heavy. Since then....” Horror showed in his eyes and he shivered. “It’s no good struggling. We can’t get out. It was all in vain.”
He turned his head away, and we went on side by side for some time without a word; then he saluted clumsily and turned down a dark little street. But although he had gone his voice remained with me, and as I went on I could hear it over and over again; it came towards me, followed me, kept pace with me: “It’s no good struggling ... we can’t get out ... it was all in vain....” Those who suffer, those who are cold and hungry, those who are beggars and cripples, those who had their orders torn from their chests and the stars from the collars of their uniforms, all think alike. Those who did the tearing had not seen the war, had stayed at home, had lived in plenty and got rich; their numbers increased while ours grew less; they won the war that we lost.
“We are done for, it’s no good struggling.” Is that what I see written in people’s eyes? Exhaustion and the endless “I’m ill and tired?”... Now I understand. The best have fallen, and those who have come back are wounded, though there be no wound on their bodies. Neither generals nor statesmen can remedy this.
I went home. The staircase was in darkness, the electric light had gone wrong a few days ago and no workman could be found to repair it; all had joined the unemployed’s bargaining federation. The front door bell was out of order too. The electrician who always kept it in order had been deserted by his men and had to attend to his shop himself.