The Phoenix Land (31 page)

And then there was Transylvania. To contemporary eyes the peculiar situation of that province was not yet clear, except that in the fifteen years of ineffective struggle against the Turks that followed the defeat of Mohács it was accepted that for the time being Transylvania could not be rescued from the Turks.

The reality of the situation was finally expressed by Friar George in 1542 in the Agreement of Gyalu which postulated, in
effect, that direct rule by the king of Hungary would only be accorded when that king should prove stronger than the Turks, but not before.

This decision showed sound political judgment. The Turkish Empire was all-powerful to the east and south, in the Havasaföld and Moldavia, while to the west were the newly conquered lands. Transylvania was thus poised as if between the jaws of a giant pair of pincers, ready to be crushed. Between the kingdom of Hungary and the province there was only a narrow strip of unconquered land along the Erdös Kárpátok (the Carpathian forests), and the only road followed the Upper Tisza and the Lower Szamos rivers. Therefore there was no alternative to autonomy for the province, both for political and geographic
reasons
. The fact that, despite geographical position and political necessity, it was still possible to build up, however modestly, a flourishing Hungarian way of life, was due to other and deeper reasons.

At the time of the Arpád kings
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Transylvania had been a
separately
governed province. More important, however, was the fact that in the hundred years after 1437 a spiritual fusion between the three ethnic groups that constituted the people had grown and developed into a real sense of mutual dependence and self-protection. That this sense of mutual interest and help for each other was only rarely manifested in the first fifty years of Transylvania’s autonomy – and even on occasion briefly
deteriorated
into mutual hostility – proved nothing, for brothers often have their disagreements. What was important was that the feeling of solidarity – the
Zeitgeist
, in Freudian terms – was at the very core of Transylvania’s survival as an entity of its own. At this time that part of Hungary under Habsburg rule had no national cohesion at all. The part beyond the Danube was merely a string of border fortresses. In the north it was much the same, while other parts of the country remained under Turkish domination. Only in Transylvania did a living form of national consciousness develop under the sway of a truly national ruler.

Contact was retained with the kingdom of Hungary and at the same time Turkish suzerainty was acknowledged, with the result
that Transylvania obtained from the Porte far greater autonomy than was experienced by Moldavia or the Havasaföld, where the rulers had been nominated by Istanbul.

In Europe a new era of absolutism dawned after the Peace of Westphalia
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. Constitutional government ceased to exist and was replaced by the absolute power of the ruler, and this brought with it a pronounced improvement in statesmanship, a new respect for the national interest, a keener appreciation of the need for sound economic policy, the development of industry and the exploitation of customs levies. Commerce was developed and experiments made with taxation policies. At this time
countries
where the national monarch had absolute power achieved real progress from the stagnation of the past.

The Habsburgs also tried the absolutist approach, and this worked well in their hereditary lands. Now was the beginning of the industrial prosperity of the Czechs, for there the tax burden was extended to include the nobility and the clergy. The dynasty here achieved its undoubted autocracy without
difficulty
, since Bohemia had no constitution since the Battle of the White Mountain (1620)
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. Here, as in the hereditary lands, the Habsburgs imposed direct rule from Vienna, and so effective was the wide influence and power of the court that the transition to absolutism was achieved without opposition, since popular opinion saw nothing but advantages to be gained from the
victory
of state power over the diverse interests of class and race. Clearly this meant the simplification of government, the
unification
of the laws and increased security for all. The imperial government was Germanic, and most of the territories, or at least their governing classes, were Germanic too. In this way every vital force was on the side of the court. Members of the nobility were drawn to leading posts in the national administration, the clergy were united by the re-imposition of Catholicism, while the petty nobility, the middle classes and the leaders of industry found themselves united by a common interest in supporting the system. Harmony was thus achieved between the policies of the ruler and the interests of the ruled.

But in Hungary this harmony could never be realized, for the simple reason that harmony between the monarch and people
could only be built upon mutual confidence, and here confidence was lacking on both sides.

The emperor was unable to forget that while he was engaged in the fierce battles of the Thirty Years’ War, and even before this when he was defending his power in western Europe, his Hungarian subjects had not only failed to come to his aid but had also on numerous occasions sided with his enemies, be they Turks, Swedes, the French, or even Transylvanians. The
insurrections
led by Bocskai, Bethlen and Rákóczi
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were supported by the whole kingdom to the point that few Hungarians stood by the legal ruler.

On their side, the Hungarians could not forget that their own king seemed to hold them in small consideration, neither
honouring
his promises nor providing for their defence – or only doing so in a derisory fashion – and that consequently between the capture of Budapest by the Turks (1541) and its liberation (1686) their country had declined into a state of decay. The imperial government seemed not only incompetent but also unscrupulous in everything that concerned the well being of Hungary, and this was compounded by the undoubted fact that in this government the last word came always from foreigners.

After the defeat of the Turks at the battle of St Gothard (1686)
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a twenty-year peace treaty was signed with the Ottoman empire but, instead of profiting by this success, the Hungarian king left the Turks in control of a large part of Hungarian
territory
so as to have a free hand in his western wars, thereby once again breaking the promise to which he owed his throne, namely to defend the country.

Not only did he fail to exploit this victory over the Turks but also he used it to abolish Hungary’s constitution. Gathering a parliament together was a slow and complicated business: how much quicker and more modern was a system of absolutism by which government was effected by decree. So this is what Vienna did. The last vestige of parliamentary control, the voting of the taxes, was also bypassed by placing the maintenance of the armed forces stationed in the country on the shoulders of each territory. Parliament did not have to meet for that: a simple
decree sufficed – this city or country, had to pay this or that sum. Who needed parliament for that?

Cities became poorer. Entire villages faced destitution, and their populations moved to the Turkish-occupied territories to escape the blackmail imposed by Flemish, Serb or German mercenaries. The re-imposition of Roman Catholicism was also achieved by force, especially where the majority had long been Protestant.

The castles of the nobility were garrisoned by foreign troops. There was no place for Hungarians in the central government, where everything was decided by Czechs and Germans.
Sometimes
it would happen that the voices of the native palatine, chief justice or treasurer would be heard, but they had no authority in the Council. Every decision taken was based upon whether or not it was to the advantage of the hereditary Habsburg lands and whether their defence or economy would benefit.

As more and more conspiracies provoked more and more unrest, so this was punished in the courts, usually by confiscation of property. Many of those who suffered in this way took refuge in Poland, Transylvania or with the Turks; and when war was declared between the empire and France, there was open
rebellion
in Hungary led by Thököly.

This was the state of relations between the king and his Hungarian people when, after a few years, the war of liberation from the Turks was started with the formation of a new Holy league by the Pope, the emperor, the king of Poland and the Venetian Republic
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.

Liberation from Turkish domination proved to be a new turning point in Hungarian history, for it had a decisive effect upon the development of the role of Hungary in relation to the Habsburg monarchy.

It was here that the standpoint of the leading Hungarians proved crucial, for they found themselves not on the side of the liberators but on that of the Turks; and in this their example was freely followed by the mass of the people.

Why Thököly remained in hiding with his Turkish allies was understandable, for the position and power he had gained had been through insurrection against Vienna. Although many of the grievances which had led to his uprising had been settled by the meeting of parliament in 1681 – a moment when he could have made his peace with Vienna – one can sympathize with his
reluctance
to abandon a patron to whom he had owed his previous success. He was not a man to change allegiance from one day to the next.

Less understandable was the attitude then adopted by the men of Transylvania. Mihály Apaffy and his all-powerful chancellor Teleki had no such moral obligations, and both hated Thököly; yet they adopted a similar attitude to his. It was possible they were inspired by a spirit of rivalry, for the last thing they wanted was that a
‘kuruc’
king should be on better terms with the Porte than they. So they remained on the Turkish side even though they had witnessed the terrible defeat of the grand vizier before the walls of Vienna and the humiliation inflicted upon his army. They even persevered in this when Buda had already been liberated and Thököly had fled. It was almost as if they had been hypnotized by the power of the Turkish hegemony.

Teleki, however, to save his own skin, secretly made his own peace with Vienna; although he still reiterated his allegiance to the Porte in council and in parliament. Worse than this, he then proved sufficiently two-faced publicly to denounce Miklós Bethlen, who had proposed that Transylvania should now join the liberating power.

That this would not have been easily achieved is clear, for the oppression of the previous decades, the inquisition and religious persecutions were still fresh in everyone’s memories. The Austrian armies, composed of Flemings, Germans and Prussians, tormented the people no less than had the Turks. Yet if on the king’s side there had been a commander like the soldier and poet Zrínyi, or like the great Palatine, Miklós Esterházy
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, or even better if at the head of Transylvanian affairs had stood statesmen of the quality of Gábor Bethlen or of the much earlier Friar George, things would have taken a different turn. These men, with their highly developed political sense, would have
grasped that the western coalition represented a far more
powerful
force than had ever previously been brought to combat the power of the Ottomans, and they would have seen that this was the moment when they could – and indeed should – have broken with the Porte and so put Transylvania at the head of the Hungarian offensive against the Turkish Empire. There is little doubt that Apaffy and Teleki could then have achieved this, just as Zsigmond Báthory, facing far stronger opposition, had done a century before.

But this historical opportunity was missed, and in the event the majority of the Hungarian people – some still in the Turkish camp and not many more on the side of the liberators – as well as the Transylvanians, remained passive spectators while their Habsburg king with his foreign mercenaries liberated the
country
. Hungarian help was largely limited to furnishing some light cavalry patrols and some auxiliary troops.

These circumstances had a fatal effect on later developments.

The government in Vienna – not without reason – decided that as it was their troops that had brought about the liberation of Hungary, so the country was theirs to dispose of as they wished.

The constitution was maintained, but for form’s sake alone, only to be invoked if necessary, and everything was decided by the central government in Vienna without any reference to Hungarian opinion. Even so, the Palatine, Pál Esterházy, did his best to establish a government with jurisdiction only within the borders of Hungary (including the re-conquered territories), but which would have control over the two most important national responsibilities: defence and economic development.

He had no chance of succeeding, since the government in Vienna held a very different view of how things should be done in Hungary. In no way would it consider relinquishing control of the armed forces, nor was it prepared to give any power to the Hungarians, whom it had never trusted before and now, after the proof of Apaffy’s and Thököly’s allegiance to the Turks, trusted even less. This was retaliation for Apaffy’s sin of omission. If a sizable Hungarian force with a Transylvanian leader had helped in chasing out the Ottomans, Transylvania and the Hungarians
might have had their say in establishing a new order in the
kingdom
. As it was, they were excluded, and direct rule from Vienna was immediately imposed.

In these circumstances it was natural that the country felt it could defend itself only by strict insistence on the rule of law. The Hungarians’ sole shields against the forces of absolutism were found to reside in the ancient laws of the country and in the king’s coronation oath. These were the only defences left to them. In this they were not mistaken. The central government was to find itself in need of help from the Hungarian people, as, for example, when scared by the widespread growth of unrest in 1681, or when their cooperation was essential, as in matters of succession to the throne. It was such occasions as these, when a new oath or proclamation was to be made – even if it was not to last for long – that proved to the nation the strength and
importance
of adherence to its constitution and how important it was that they should not allow it to be changed in any way. It became deeply ingrained in the national conscience that if they should permit any modification, any alloy to be inserted – even were it only in respect of some ancient patriotic feeling – then the Tripartitum, that tightly stretched chain, would fall to pieces the day even one small link was allowed to fall from it. It stood as read that one of the most important factors in this defensive battle with Vienna was the understanding that, as both Emperor Leopold and his sons were deeply religious men, so they could be trusted not to break their oath.