The Destroyed Vineyard

A brave man. Almost all European intellectuals have been hard-core Leftists like Pablo Neruda. Honouring Hungary in 1956 took courage.

From The European Conservative

By Álvaro Peñas

At a time when many intellectuals were loyal leftists, one Spanish poet honoured the heroes of the Hungarian Revolution.

On 4 November 1956, 30,000 Soviet troops and a thousand tanks arrived in Hungary with the objective of suppressing the revolution that had overthrown the communist government of András Hegedüs in the previous month. Just a week later, the Soviets regained control of the country in a battle that resulted in several thousand casualties and the exile of approximately 200,000 Hungarians. The new communist government, led by János Kádár, initiated a brutal crackdown to eradicate all vestiges of opposition. Communist intellectuals from across the globe, beholden to Moscow’s directives, spearheaded a campaign to discredit the revolutionaries as ‘imperialists,’ ‘fascists,’ and ‘agents of the West,’ while justifying the repression. One of these intellectuals was Pablo Neruda.

Neruda was a devout Stalinist and his tours of the countries of the East were duly publicised by Soviet propaganda, where he was presented as a ‘fighter for peace’ persecuted ‘by imperialism.’ Despite this supposed persecution, the Chilean poet had no problem crossing the Iron Curtain and visiting various countries in the socialist paradise, including Hungary. His first visit to Hungary was in the summer of 1949, when he was officially invited by the Hungarian government to the events commemorating the first centenary of the birth of Hungary’s best-known poet, Sándor Petőfi (1823-1849). Népszabadság (Freedom of the People), the newspaper of the Hungarian Workers’ Party, headlined his visit on 23 July 1949: “The great Chilean poet among the Hungarian workers”. Neruda returned to Hungary a year later and was again received as a great friend of the regime: “Pablo Neruda, the poet of the struggle for peace”.

Just six years later, and like so many other fighters for peace, the Chilean poet sided with the Soviet tanks when they entered Budapest in blood and fire to put down the Hungarian revolution of 1956. Neruda explained his particular version of events in the Chilean magazine Ercilla in February 1957: “Imperialist agents came into contact with the remnants of Horthy’s fascism and gave them money and armaments to destroy the work of socialism … the subversion of a fascist character deceived the mass of the people who also helped the counter-revolution.” The subject of Neruda’s comment, Miklós Horthy, was Regent of Hungary from 1 March 1920 to 15 October 1944, and he was Germany’s ally during World War II.

Neruda’s words were strongly echoed in Spain, where the anti-communist uprising had caused enormous sympathy. In fact, the Spanish ambassador to the United Nations, José Félix de Lequerica, was the first to lodge a complaint at the UN about the Soviet military intervention against Hungary. Informed of the situation by the representative of the Hungarian exiles, Ferenc Marosy, and by Archduke Otto of Habsburg, Franco took the initiative to support the rebels and to present himself once again as an anti-communist bastion. Faced with the West’s passivity, Franco went so far as to propose a military intervention which, for logistical reasons, was not feasible without direct support from the United States. In the end, the only aid that could reach Hungary was a humanitarian aid train, although the Hungarian revolution provoked a movement of enthusiastic support and solidarity throughout Spain. In the words of the Hungarian historian Ádám Anderle, “Masses for Hungary were held in all the country’s churches. In addition, the length of the Hungarian radio programme, which had previously been 20 minutes a day, was increased 12-fold. At the initiative of Minister Ferenc Marosy, the Spanish Red Cross undertook relief and fund-raising activities. The Embassy also received a large number of voluntary donations.”

Football also brought attention to what was happening in Hungary. Budapest Honvéd qualified for the European Cup and played Athletic Bilbao in the first round. The Spanish team won 3-2 but, in the face of the Soviet invasion, the players decided not to return to Hungary. Some, such as Ferenc Puskás, Sándor Kocsis, and Zoltán Czibor, signed for Barcelona and Real Madrid. The Hungarian players’ refusal to return home did not prevent the second leg, which was played at the Heysel Stadium in Brussels, ending in a 3-3 draw, with Athletic Bilbao progressing to the next round.

Against this background, it is understandable that Neruda’s words caused a profound outcry in Spain, but what is little known is that the Chilean poet received a reply from a Spanish poet and philosopher, Eugenio Frutos Cortés who, in 1957, published a poem in twelve cantos entitled “La viña destruida. A Hungría, en su martirio” (The destroyed vineyard. To Hungary, in its martyrdom).

Eugenio Frutos Cortés was a philosopher, teacher, and poet. In the field of philosophy, he was one of the main disseminators of existentialism in Spain, and his greatest philosophical contribution focused on anthropology. As a poet, his work was greatly influenced by the Generation of ’27 and he maintained a friendly relationship with many of the poets of this group, such as Dámaso Alonso, Rafael Alberti, Jorge Guillén, and Federico García Lorca. A Professor of Foundations of Philosophy and History of Philosophical Systems at the University of Zaragoza from 1951, he also taught sychology in the Faculty of Medicine and Ontology and theory of knowledge in the Faculty of Science. As permanent advisor to the National Delegation of Education, to the ‘Fernando el Católico’ Institution, and to the Provincial Council, he encouraged cultural and scientific activities. In short, he was a true intellectual giant—the author of innumerable essays and articles, a dozen teaching manuals, and several books of poetry.

With “La viña destruida. A Hungría, en su martirio,” Frutos wanted to respond to Neruda’s fallacies and reflect the suffering of the Hungarian people at the hands of communist totalitarianism. This work—as, in a sense, the author himself—has fallen prey to oblivion because today, despite all that history has taught us, anti-communism is still politically incorrect. Let this short article serve as a reminder of this prolific author and his work, and to honour the heroes of the 1956 Hungarian Revolution.

Hungary, the destroyed vineyard,

The vineyard destroyed by the barbarians,

The vineyard destroyed by the barbarians

Who have come to drink the blood of men.

The destroyed vineyard. To Hungary, in its martyrdom.

 Pictured: Eugenio Frutos Cortés