No End to Liberation

A cloud hung over the agony of Budapest--part fog, part gun smoke, part dust. It muffled the thump of mortars and draped the spires of shattered cathedrals in dark, chilly folds. For miles around, the snow was black with soot. Heavy hoarfrost formed each night; and in the morning the dead in the streets glittered. Under the cloud and over the dead raged one of World War II's grimmest street battles. By the time the Red Army had cleared the city's 4,500 blocks of their stubborn German defenders, Budapest was a surrealist's nightmare: gutted carapaces of tanks clogged the streets; twisted streetcar rails poked at the sky; shop windows were stocked with uniformed corpses. Budapest had been liberated.

This week, when Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev arrives in Budapest to celebrate the 19th anniversary of the victory, he will find the army of liberation still in position. And for good reason: in 1956 it took a brutal commitment of Russian tanks and terror to crush the valiant attempt of the Hungarians to throw out their "liberators."

Yet today the political climate in Hungary appears to be the most relaxed of any Soviet satellite.

Communist Boss Janos Kadar, installed as a puppet by Khrushchev, is largely responsible. He wooed and won his suspicious people with small doses of political freedom and larger dollops of luxury. No sooner had he taken power in 1956 than bananas appeared in the markets for the first time since the war.

Today, Budapest's modest traffic jams are made up as much of Chevrolet Impalas and Mercedes 220s as of Russian-built Volgas and Zims. Last year, more than 100,000 Hungarians were allowed to travel past the minefields and machine-gun towers that still guard the border to visit the West. Western authors can now be found in Budapest bookstores (current rage: Graham Greene), and the city's 200,000 television sets roar to the guns of U.S. westerns. Operetta buffs were recently treated to a fine production of Csokolj Meg, Katam--better known as Kiss Me, Kate.

For all the surface signs of freedom, the Soviet army still holds the city in a firm but inconspicuous grip. More than 40,000 Russian soldiers are stationed in Hungary, and though they keep to their camps, their armor is always ready to roll. Many Hungarians hoped that Khrushchev's visit might be timed to a withdrawal of Soviet arms. Budapest officials doubted that this will happen.

Yet to the Hungarians who survived the dreadful three months of the World War II battle of Budapest, the army's presence and the memory of the cloud of death that hung over the city in April 1945 are inseparable. Not until that army leaves will "liberation" end and freedom begin.

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