APPROVED FOR RELEASE: 2009/06/16: CIA-RDP01-00707R000200110037-3
[Rus]sians was considered an enemy of Hungary, and even a nominal Jew, as were many party leaders, was an object of distrust. In the national ballot of 1945—Hungary's first and last free election—the Communists received only 17% of the vote, and in the semirigged ballot of 1947 they upped their share to only 22%. Rakosi and company, however, had a simple solution to the problem of popular disaffection: a one-party system abetted by a campaign of terror against party enemies. The result was to add a large dollop of fear to the reservoir of public contempt for the Communists. When the explosion occurred in 1956, the Hungarian Workers Party, as the Communist organization was then called, virtually fell apart.
Since the Rakosi days, the reconstituted Hungarian Socialist Workers Party (HSWP), as it is now called, has come a long way. Led by First Secretary Janos Kadar for over a decade and a half, the party has learned that it must react favorably to the concerns of the people and seek to enlist their support. At the same time it realizes that it must on occasion—as in the unpopular 1968 invasion of Czechoslovakia—submerge Hungary's national self-interest to the concerns of Moscow and thus risk the charge that its rule is just the most recent version of foreign domination. Both paths have had their pitfalls, but by and large the cautious Kadar has steered a safe course around them in the process of rebuilding the party's authority.
Public policy aside, the HSWP organizationally is a fairly typical Communist party. About one Hungarian in 16 belongs—a ratio approximately equal to that in the U.S.S.R. and Poland, but below that for the Communist parties of East Germany, Romania, and Czechoslovakia. Its 700,000 members constitute a motley group: fervent young idealists, superannuated conservative functionaries; cynical opportunists; and largely apolitical establishmentarians, among others. All are expected to react in disciplined fashion to the next higher echelon in the party command, and ultimately to the dictates of the 13-man party Politburo. This principle of party unity frequently fails in practice, but at least strenuous intraparty debate lends credence to the party's claim that the "cult of the personality" has been banished in favor of "collective leadership."
Kadar is beyond question "number one" in the political hierarchy. Rumors circulate from time to time that he has lost favor with the Soviets or is in increasingly bad health as a result of his imprisonment during the Rakosi bloodbaths. There is no indication that he has lost control, but conservative elements opposed to his liberal ways do exist. The Kadar style, if indeed such a spartan and largely colorless personality can be said to have style, is that of the team player. Poorly educated but gifted with good political instincts, Kadar has surrounded himself with a group of talented, fairly young advisors who generally share his point of view. The working levels of the party, conversely, are heavily seeded with hacks. If Kadar's policies fail in implementation, it is more likely due to the immobility or incompetence of this petty officialdom than to the intrigues of highly placed rivals.
The Kadar regime has publicly committed itself to reform in the name of "broadening socialist democracy." If such a formulation seems vague, it is no accident, for the regime is loathe to elaborate on the concept. It appears, nevertheless, that Kadar and the party are in debt to the departed and discredited Imre Nagy, who postulated that a workable Hungarian government should take into consideration the views of the nonparty masses. Inherent in this thesis is the admission that the party, to its own detriment, has dictated national policy to a muzzled and largely indifferent populace. Also inherent is the hope that by allowing persons other than the party faithful to have some say, the party will broaden its base of popular support. At this point, a difficult question arises as to whether an authoritarian body can afford to enhance significantly the rights of others without weakening and ultimately destroying itself. And, if such doubts exist, are Communist leaders in other capitals, particularly Moscow, willing to tolerate "dangerous experimentation" in their midst?
Having weighed the delicate issue with great deliberation, Kadar has chosen to move ahead with inchworm precision and wariness. A first try at opening new lines of communication has come via the regime's "national reconciliation policy." Under it, all who are loyal to the homeland and not outwardly opposed to the party are welcome to participate in the state system. Talent that otherwise would have gone to waste is now available and frequently serves as a welcome alternative to the lame, old party warhorses at the lower and middle echelons of government and industry. Elsewhere the party has encouraged its mass organizations—patriotic fronts, youth groups, women's organizations, and the like—to concern themselves less with enforcing
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APPROVED FOR RELEASE: 2009/06/16: CIA-RDP01-00707R000200110037-3
