by Hanna SiemaszkoOn board a train waiting to depart from Budapest, I was engrossed in my book -- Nowohucka telenowela (A Soap Opera from Nowa Huta) by Renata Radłowska – and had not noticed that a young man was staring intently. When finally I did notice, it was that he was staring at my book, not at me. But then we exchanged glances, which prompted him to ask,“What on earth are you reading?”
“It’s a Polish book,” I replied, not particularly inclined to explain anything more about the magical phoenix-like construction of Kracow’s district Nowa Huta. Grinning from ear to ear, he recited in nearly flawless Polish, “Węgier, Polak dwa bratanki, i do szabli i do szklanki” (“A Hungarian and a Pole are brothers, together in battle and together to drink”). Then he left the train left and I could only smile back at my random interlocutor.
It wasn’t the first time I heard this proverb and I often saw it coming as soon as the constant questions about my national identity came up. In truth, I tend to share the view expressed by Krzysztof Varga, the Polish-Hungarian journalist and writer (author of a great analysis of the Hungarian nation “Gulasz z Turula” ( “Goulash from the Turul”) that the sentiment is rather boring, too nostalgic, and does not fit the current situation. But then again, it opened many doors for me as a Pole. Hungarians seemed to be less suspicious and more willing to share their stories with Poles, and their expressions of sympathy after the Polish plane crash in Russia were deeply felt. All because of a friendship expressed in one catchy line?
There are as many hypotheses about the origins and versions of it as there are people in Hungary or Poland. First of all, the Hungarian and Polish wordings of the saying are not exactly the same. In the Hungarian one (“Lengyel, magyar — két jó barát, együtt harcol s issza borát”) the Poles and the Hungarians are friends, whereas in the Polish versions they are next of kin (bratanki - cousins, or brothers). There are also at least 10 different endings in the Hungarian version in which Hungarians and Poles are not always destined for alcoholic beverages and common combat. Sometimes they say the two nations are only good for drinking, or only for fighting. (Above: the Hungarian Parliament.)
As far as the origins are concerned, one of the possibilities is that it was coined after the defeat of the Confederation of Bar, the association of Polish nobles resisting the Russian Empire’s aggression and Polish reformers attempting to limit the power of the nobles. The Confederation’s leaders hid in Spis, then a part of Hungary, now part of Slovakia, and that may have been the reason for striking up this friendship. Some other historians maintain that it was actually about a common understanding between the Polish and Slovak people and has nothing to do with the Hungarians. They point to the similarities between the Slovak and Polish languages and to the obvious difficulties of communication between the Magyars and the Poles. Nevertheless, we can’t deny the long Polish-Hungarian cooperation and mutual help given throughout the years.
The most noteworthy support, in my opinion, that the Hungarian nation gave to the Poles was during the Second World War. According to some statistics, more than 100,000 civilian and military Polish refugees found shelter in Hungary. Civilian refugees could freely move around the country and for many others, especially those trying to join Polish forces abroad, Hungary was an important stopover on their way to France or other Western countries. Although Hungary was an ally of the Third Reich, it refused to cross swords with the Poles in the Warsaw Uprising. A decade after the war, the Poles donated blood for the wounded in the Hungarian revolution of ’56. More recently, some may have rightly claimed that all our common history was the perfect reason for one of the most important paintings in Poland to be lent to Hungary last year – Leonardo Da Vinci’s “Lady With an Ermine”.
I’ve lived in Hungary for almost two years now. Interestingly enough, it’s the first country where I have never felt the burden of fighting negative stereotypes about the Poles. However fake and clichéd the “Węgier, Polak...” adage may sound, it still eliminates barriers and makes it hard for my Hungarian friends to recall any negative similes, jokes or aphorisms about the Polish people. And vice versa. Many Poles still cherish our friendship with the Hungarians even if now it means only reminiscing about good, old Hungarian markets filled to the brim when the Polish shops tirelessly offered heaps of vinegar.
Whatever the reasons, “Long live Polish-Hungarian friendship!” Just for the simple pleasure of it. CR
Hanna Siemaszko is a Polish-English translation studies graduate (with Arabic as minor) who loves everything that involves dealing with words. Currently teaching English in Budapest, she has worked for Radio Bez Kitu in Poland and Fúzió Rádió in Hungary,and translated daily news for Arabia.pl (portal informing the Polish readership on Arab and Muslim issues). Interested in IT and promoting science. Mad about volleyball.
