THE BEGINNING OF THE END

With no venom tooth to be removed so far, all right then, one was implanted in a most unusual operation, should somebody have missed it. It was only a question of time to see now what groups would be formed within the Political Committee and, clearly in minority there, where, in whose company and by what means Imre Pozsgay and János Berecz would make camp. Pozsgay's case did not need hard thinking: he had an extremely strong mass basis, especially outside Budapest. János Berecz, however, may have been rather hampered by being in charge of an area where he could hardly have liquidated the heritage of György Aczél's three decades. Perhaps he decided to leave it untouched. Well, for the moment at least. Thus all the leaders soon got involved in the endless and Byzantine game of adapting themselves to the situation of the moment.

Preparing for battle, the individual groups took action stations. The press seemed to be the best and most efficient means for all three of them. This is why all three served as springboards for dozens of often incompetent press

chiefs to find key posts - of course, one by one—while those press leaders who had earlier insured themselves by leaving the service of party and state in time and, rapidly finding their way to the other extremes, intended to get their Stalinist management practices forgotten, could look forward to a long period of calm.

Having for a year invested incredible energies in performing the duties of Prime Minister (and it was hardly an easy task to speed up György Lázár's slow-paced heritage), Károly Grósz set out with similar dedication to broaden Hungary's international contacts. He knew he needed that in order to be accepted both at home and abroad, vital for widening his scope for manoeuvre in the leadership. But he also knew honestly that Hungary had no alternative.

Not only because he must have known that the national debt of Sll bn announced by him in autumn 1987 was in fact substantially more than that, and our debt service would require further billions from the international markets. He speeded up his mainly Western-oriented diplomatic activities probably also because he knew that if he built a thousand links between Hungary and some new regions as well, the country would cease to depend—helplessly—on the exclusive nature of our Eastern connections. And certainly he had to know that if Hungary wanted to follow its independent paths in domestic and foreign politics, it could not count on help through the Eastern link in trouble either.

Shaped under the direction of János Berecz, then Mátyás Szűrös and Gyula Horn, our international sphere of movement widened to a considerable extent through Károly Grósz's labours. But why it was necessary to

"liquidate" the HSWP CC's most talented and pragmatic department, the Foreign Affairs Department in the process (sorry for using the word

"liquidate", it is an obvious exaggeration), well, so far I have been unable to find an answer to that. A possible answer, however, might be indicated in Károly Grósz's practice of many years: he is overfond of surrounding himself with his own cadres. And that makes others alienated from him en masse. Why did he need a "national security council" of his own?

Why was the unknown Gyula Thürmer a better choice than the well- known Csaba Tabajdi or Imre Szokai? And here is László Major, having always worked in foreign affairs, at first a journalist, then analyst, then ambassador, possessing excellent talents but no experience in domestic and especially party affairs: what made him a suitable candidate to lead the powerful CC Bureau as well as form and fill the new and most responsible post of the party's spokesman?

We could supply such examples ad infinitum. But all that was not only

Károly Grósz's fault. János Berecz and Imre Pozsgay were building their fortresses in similar ways. The battle had started.

It would be nice to forget the major and minor nightmares of the second half of last year. We could somehow get used to having Károly Grósz driving a BMW (like he did in West Germany) and, however painful it was to see him thus, he was still happy with the publicity stunt. But why did his staff members not warn him? Were there people who did? And once we did (for we did), why did our warnings remain unheeded?

Even if we got used to the BMW, we could hardly do so concerning the excesses of Károly Grósz's trip in the summer of 1988 to America. The trip's organizers probably knew how to win popularity in the U.S. And that was important, since we were hardly trusted there at the time, and obscurity cannot attract foreign capital. So the Grósz image must have worked well out there.

But here at home?

It was impossible to get used to seeing him eat hamburger with U.S.

Ambassador Palmer—and of course the servile TV crews and photographers following Károly Grósz around and basking in his reflected light did their very best to make us at home shocked at what we saw: the multitude and character of awful situations. No real tears were shed upon the visit to the aunt unseen for decades; and the call on Mr Soros at his Long Island home was hardly worthy of a Hungarian Prime Minister and party General Secratary. And even though that is the way abroad, it is certainly not the way in Hungary. Some of us were already saying that his entourage included the press manipulators who, aided by their editors at home, were deliberately administering an overdose of domestic propaganda, to make us not only satiated but outright fed up with the sight. We might say the press is to blame for that. True, but a politician is also responsible for what kind of a press coverage of himself he allows. Possibly these were the moments when the most powerful press workshops, unauthorized and unwarranted but taking advantage of the vacuum created by incompetent politicians, started taking total control in shaping public opinion.

From here our steps will be considerably bigger. Failure (and fight) was inevitable now.

August—an incomprehensible, hasty and extremely damaging meeting with Ceaucescu at Oradea. Certainly it can be justified by the old stereotype, "We tried everything". But how should the world interpret that phrase?

How Ceaucescu?

And most of all, how we Hungarians, over there and over here?

Autumn. Slow drift towards the idea of a multiparty system - differing from the resolution of the party conference in May but, of course, as the inevitable result of the democratic process initiated by the HSWP. It took place in such a way that even the leaders themselves were found unprepared, let alone their followers or the masses of Party members. Therefore, a strenuous competition started in early autumn—which one of them can more convincingly commit himself to a "pluralistic" society?

In reality only Imre Pozsgay's earlier record held a clear promise of such an attitude. But now everybody was scrambling to overtake everybody else.

And the masses of the population and party members did not comprehend what this, often really dissonant, noise of opposition was, coupled with the radical advance of some people, creating through the press the impression that there were new and enormous forces present on the stage of politics and most of the population were siding with the opposition, while no governing institution: Parliament, government or HSWP was legitimate.

An ideological and political scare ensued.

And in November that scare grows into fear. Sports Hall, Budapest. Ten thousand party activists listen to an unexpected address by Károly Grósz on behalf of the party. His public image is irreparably tarnished by the phrase he uses in flashing the threat of "white terror". His political comrades do not want to be his fellow sufferers any more: they are quick to signal (and right, too): they have nothing to do with what is happening.

The break of the leadership is complete now.

Prepared partly in the West in recent years, the highest-trained elite forces of the opposition set in motion. They feel a vacuum rising—and that is in their favour.

A hopeless spring in 1989. The Political Committee resigns. It is impossible to understand why none else but János Berecz is dropped. He certainly made numerous errorrs, there is no doubt about that, and he can also be formally blamed for the activity of the press, now undisputably weakening the party and strengthening the opposition. But practically the same blame can be put on Károly Grósz, Imre Pozsgay and, later, Miklós Németh who comes increasingly to the fore in his post as prime Minister.