One thing that has always puzzled me, now that we are on the subject of
56, is why did most Hungarians forgive Kadar, the so called turn
coat? obviously his puha dicatatorship and economic successes improved
his image, but was he was for the most part-emigres excepted-forgiven.
Or were most Hungarians just so apathetic-or tired-that
the past no longer mattered. In studying the Hungarian Catholic Church,
it appears that  following the Rakosi period, the Churchhad been so
severly weakened by the communists  that the hierarchy was willing
to do almost anything to 'find a place`in Kadar's Hungary  even if it meant
 alienating-among other things- many of its laity and even clergy. Despite
everything I have read, I still have
yet to come up with a satisfactory answer. Perhaps there is none.
dini metro-roland

Someone asked if Sandor Kopacsi, deputy commander-in-chief of the National
Guard in 1956, and Sandor Kopatsy the economist, are one the same.  They
are not.  They are the same age, their names sound alike, but there the
similarity ends.

Sandor Kopacsi was born in 1922, in Miskolc.  In late December 1944 he
joined the Communist Party, and became a policeman.  From 1949 he worked at
the Military and Police Section of the Party Central Committee [MDP KV
Katonai es Karhatalmi Osztaly].  At age 30 he is promoted to Chief of Police
of Budapest.  In October 1956 he goes over to the side of the Revolution,
becomes a member of the Revolutionary Defense Committee [Forradalmi
Honvedelmi Bizottmany], and is appointed deputy commander-in-chief of the
National Guard.  He considered himself a Communist all through the events of
1956.  On Nov 5, on his way to the Yugoslav embassy, he is arrested by
General Serov, head of the KGB.  In 1958 he is sentenced to life in prison.
He is set free in 1963 general amnesty.  In 1969 he receives his law degree,
but is not allowed to practice law.  In 1975 he emigrates to Canada.  In
1990 he returns to Hungary.

Sandor Kopatsy was born in 1922, in Kaposvar.  He has a doctorate in
economics.  He was a founding member of the Peasant Party.  From 1951 he
worked in the National Planning Office [Tervhivatal].  He is the author of
a famous 1957 position paper "Toward Improving our Planned Economy",  where
he argued that no fundamental reform of the planned economy is needed.
Later he became deputy director of the Hungarian Investment Bank.  Took
part in the preparatory work of the 1968 economic reforms as part of the
brain trust around Rezso Nyers, an advocate of liberal policies in the
Politburo.  Kopatsy is a founding member of the Finance Research Corporation
[Penzugykutato RT], a liberal think-tank of sorts.

Is there a pattern here?  In 1950, during the worst Stalinist years, Kopacsi
was a high-ranking Communist police officer, while Kopatsy was blacklisted,
and had to make his living as a construction worker.  In 1957 it is the other
way around: Kopacsi is in a jail cell, accused of treason, while Kopatsy is
a trusted advisor to the fledgling Kadar regime.  In the 70s Kopacsi is a
blue-collar worker in Toronto, while Kopatsy is a high-ranking banker and
government advisor in Budapest.  In 1995 Kopatsy is still an advisor, but
this time the advisee is none other than Torgyan's Smallholders Party.
I don't know what Kopacsi's politics might be these days, and I would not
hazard a guess.  At any rate, Kopatsy and Kopacsi are different people --
but perhaps not all that different.

-----
Gabor Fencsik

NOTE: This is the 14th segment of a memoir of the Hungarian Revolution, which
consists of 15 such daily segments. In these I pay tribute to the memories of
two of the martyrs of 1956: Istvan Angyal and Janos Danner. If at the end of
this series (TOMORROW), you would like me to send you the complete text
(325,000 bits or 55,000 words) please let me know. I will also be happy to
place this material into any archive, which asks for it.
    My apologies for the spelling errors in some Hungarian words. This is due
to the present limitations of the alphabet on Internet. As I want to
correctly spell all the Hungarian accent marks in the hard printed copies,
this causes problems with the E-Mailed ones. So the accented vowels are
deleted on  and some are converted by . I hope that in
spite of that, the manuscript is legible.
           I would also like to ask you, that if you find any factual errors
(names, dates, places, etc.), please let me know at , or if
you write about such errors on any of the open forums, please send me a
personal cpoy.

Best regards: Be'la Lipta'k

"S a forradalmat: te kicsi orsza'g,
 El ne felejtse, aki e'l,
 Hogy u'gy szu"letett a szabadsa'g,
 Hogy pesti utca'n hullt a ve'r." (Tama'si Lajos)

(The Revolution, you tiny nation,
Must not forget any alive,
That freedom was born in Budapest,
While blood poured in every drive)




        XIV.
I feel a kick in my foot. I wake up, look around and things begin to slowly
come back. Lacika is on my left, Ili on my right, but I don't see Gyuszi Perr
or Imre Majoross and it seems that we are fewer, than a minute ago, when I
closed my eye. Down around the professors desk, the guards are snoring. Up,
at the other end of the lecture hall, the entrance door is open.  The guards
are dead drunk, this is the time to get out!  - whispers Lacika.
      We rise very slowly and tiptoe up to the open door. All we hear is the
snoring, as we quietly make our way through the dark corridor. We walk down
to the basement and exit the building through the back door of the gymnasium.
The night is dark. There are no Russians to be seen, but we play it safe
anyway. We stay in the dark, sneaking from bush to bush. On Budafoki Street,
Lacika bids us farewell. (This was the last time I saw him. Later I heard,
that he became an airline pilot in Switzerland and that a cousin of his,
married a nephew of mine.)
     Ili and her sister rented room nearby. They asked me to walk them home.
When I agreed, they hooked into my arms as we strolled through the dark and
empty streets. In the room, I see only one double bed.  So, how will we do
this?  - I ask and they reply in unison:  I will sleep in the easy chair.  So
I take off my boot, jacket and hit the bed. I don't know what happened next.
All I remember, that during the night, when I was turning around, I touched
Ili's breast. Her body felt tense, her nipple was hard and her eyes seemed to
be partly open, but I could have imagined all that.
      In any case, when I woke up the next morning, we were all in the same
bed, we had plenty of space, it was warm and cozy. They had no food, so
breakfast was out of the question, and I did not feel like washing myself,
with the girls watching, so I said farewell and left. (This was the last time
I have seen the Tsth girls, although decades later, when I was teaching at
Yale, a young man asked me, if I was the same Bila Liptak, whom his aunts
talk about?)
      It was mid-morning on this Tuesday, the 6th of November. One could hear
bursts of gunfire from the Pest side of the Danube. Here, on the Buda side,
all is quiet. It feels strange that the submachine-gun is not pulling on my
right shoulder. I got so used to the gun, that I feel incomplete without it.
I still have my tri-colored arm-band. There is no traffic, the streets are
empty. This is a workday, when nobody works.
      I walk over the empty bridge. The Russian tanks stationed at the
bridge-head pay no attention to me. I am walking over to the Pest side to
visit Agnes. The burned out houses and the burned out tanks are still smoking
and unburied corpses are everywhere. I see the remains of a Russian soldier
in the hatchway of a burned out tank. His clothing has burned away and his
body shrank to the size of a baby. The Russian tanks have occupied the main
Avenues, but have not entered the side streets. One can not see Russian
soldiers, they feel safer inside their tanks.
      On Rakoczi Street I see a Russian opening the escape hatch on his tank
and sticking his head out. In a couple of seconds, a burst of gunfire is the
result. It comes from one of the roofs. The Russian head disappears and the
three tanks in the group, aim their cannons at the roof, where the fire came
from.
     Because of the fighting on Rakoczi Street, I go over to a parallel
street, named Wesselinyi Street. As I am walking toward Elizabeth Boulevard.
On the corner of Akacfa Street, I hear firing and one of the bullets hits the
wall behind me. I suspect that it was intended for me. There must be AVH
snipers in the area. The brave souls now dare to be sniping at the freedom
fighters and the members of the National Guard. For a second, I consider
removing my tri-colored arm-band, but then, I just proceed a bit more
carefully. I try to flatten myself against the walls of the buildings. As I
advance on Wesselinyi and  approach the Kertisz Street corner, which is only
one block from Elizabeth Boulevard, I see a Russian tank at the entrance of
Wesselinyi Street into Elizabeth Boulevard. The tank cannon has been lowered
and it is pointing into Wesselinyi Street.
     As I am carefully lurking forward, I see a group of about ten people.
They are unarmed, older workers, standing in the protection of the Kertisz
Street corner. They were hoping to cross the Boulevard, but did not dare to,
because of the tank. As I reach them, I hear the siren of an ambulance. It is
coming from behind me. As I turn, I see a mini-van with it's roof covered by
a large Red Cross flag. As the driver notices the tank, the car slows down.
     A blond nurse is sitting next to the driver, she is leaning forward,
staring at the tank. A wounded man is laying in the back. The car has passed
the Akacfa Street corner, when the tank cannon shivers, something black
emerges from the barrel, followed by flames and smoke. By the time I hear the
blast, the car has reached our corner. The left half of the car is crumpled,
like a sardine can, when hit by a hammer. The driver has disappeared. We
stare at the burning wreckage, frozen by shock and fear.
     Now the blond nurse tries to free herself, she opens the door on the
right and stumbles out. She is in the middle of the street, facing the tank,
she is about 15 yards from us. We are protected by the corner of the
building, she is totally exposed. Now, she stands up. She is not more than
18. She is starting to move toward the wounded man in the burning ambulance,
when the tank machine-gun fires. The girl is hit, she loses her balance and
falls onto the hood of the burning car. I can hear the burning of her hair, I
can see her skin getting darker. I bit my lips, I taste blood in my mouth.
Now a bald worker picks up the garbage can and holding it in front of
himself, runs out, into the street. An other burst of machine-gun fire, and
he is moaning in a pool of blood. The garbage can is full of holes, the
bullets went through it as if it was tinfoil.
     Now, somebody starts pulling on the waterspout, which is running down
the side of the building. Our frozen, paralyzed group suddenly comes to life
and like frenzied madman, we are all tearing at the rain pipe. Our hands are
bleeding, we push and step on each other, rust and plaster is falling into
our eyes, our clothing is torn, but eventually the pipe begins to give and
our frantic effort pays off. Now, we have a 10-15 yard long pipe with which
we can pull the girl from the burning car. Her long, blond hair is gone, her
white smock is dark, so is her skin. Only her open eyes and her teeth are
white.
     It took about a half an hour to pull the two dead bodies into the
protection of the street corner. The driver and the patient, both burned in
the car. The tank's machine-gun kept firing throughout this frenzied effort.
      These 30 minutes filled me with such intense hatred, that I could have
dropped the atomic bomb on Moscow. It took decades to get rid of this
terrible feeling, but to forget that girl, to forget the senselessness of a
child being roasted like a pig, that, I can not forget and never will.
      It took some effort to cross the Boulevard, but finally I succeeded. I
found nobody at home in Agnes' apartment. When I ask the superintendent, he
is not communicative at all. It must be my arm-band that scares him. The old
slave reflexes are already returning. His answers could not be shorter:  They
left for Austria.  - he says.  Who is they?   The boy and the girl.   Which
girl?   The blond one.  - he answers and walks away, indicating that the
discussion is over. So Judit and Gabor have left and Agnes is probably still
at Lake Balaton.
     What do I do now? It is past noon. I am getting very hungry. I also hear
the intense fighting which rages around the triangle of the Kilian Barracks,
Corvin Plaza and T|zols Street. I start walking in that direction, toward the
south. I stay to the east of the Main Boulevard, which is bumper-to-bumper
with Russian tanks. It takes some effort to cross Rakoczi Street. After that,
the thunder intensifies. I not only hear the roar of tank cannons, but also
the scream of mine-throwers and the Russian aircraft overhead. My progress is
slow, I am hoping to reach Pista Angyal's group in T|zolts Street, but when I
get near, I find, that crossing \ll i Street is impossible. The street is
full of tanks and they fire at anything that moves. So I stay in the side
streets and eventually reach Istvan Hospital on Nagyvarad Square.
       You can not enter with arms, you have to leave all your arms here!  -
says the porter.  That will be easy, since I have none. Where do I get
something to eat?  - I ask in return.  Go to the cafeteria in the basement,
they probably have some soup, left over from lunch.
      It is 2 or 3 PM, I get a tray, get my 20 Forints ready and load the
plate with two bowls of soup and a half dozen big slices of bread. I have not
eaten in nearly two days, so I'm ready for a feast.  How much is that?  - I
ask the fat lady.  It's a lot.  - she answers smiling.  I mean: how much do I
owe you?  - I ask again.  Looking at you, it is I, who probably owes you!  -
she replies and waves me on.  I just can't get rid of this 20 Forint bill!  -
I complain jokingly, and settle down to stuff myself.
      The cafeteria is mostly empty. A doctor with black-ringed eyes is
drinking espresso coffee at the next table, his hands tremble as he stirs the
coffee. Another doctor is copying a list or something, while two nurses stand
in the corner, talking to a cleaning lady. So I get down to some serious
eating. When I have finished the first bowl, I put the second soup-plate into
the empty one, because I do not want to advertise my appetite. The windows
are trembling from the detonations, the hospital is overflowing with wounded,
yet the cafeteria is peaceful and my mind is blank, I concentrate on eating.
      When I am done with the soup, I still have two slices of bread left. I
am in the process of stuffing them into the side pocket of my corduroy
jacket, when I hear a familiar voice:  Is this another test of yours? Are you
testing the limits of the holding capacity of the human stomach?   If it is
not the coffee-man!?  - I say, grinning at Pista Angyal.  So, how are you
progressing with your comparative study of the Jewish-Hungarian vs. German-
Hungarian character?  - he asks, also grinning. I do not answer. Pista, now
looks at me very seriously and asks:  What is it?
      The test is over! There is no German-Hungarian to compare you with.
Jancsi Danner is dead!  - I say this, almost shouting. He puts his hand on my
shoulder and after a long while, he mumbles to no one in particular:  It does
not look good, does it?
      Pista is with his co-commander, a fellow named Olaf, and a Russian
called Vaszil. It is not clear who this Vaszil is, although they seem to be
good friends and he seems to be on our side. They ask me about the defense of
Msricz Square and I ask them about their prospects here in the IXth district.
        We are holding our own, and are trying to arrange a 48 hour
cease-fire with the Russians. They agreed to a meeting and supposedly we will
learn the time and place for the meeting at 5 PM. This is why we are here. We
are waiting for that call.
       Why can't you call from your garage?  - I ask.  Oh, they have
pulverized us by bombs and cannon fire. We have no telephone, no electricity,
no water. They are lobbing land grenades at us and are now attacking from the
air also.   So what is next?  - I come to the bottom line.
      Pista looks at the floor, then at Olaf, before answering:  The Kilian
Barrack is giving up, their defenders, the ones with some heart left, are now
joining us. Only Corvin Plaza, Csepel Island and Stalin City are still
holding out. They too are running low on ammunition. The civilians in the
IXth district are begging us to give up. This is why we are here. We want to
arrange an honorable cease fire with the Russians. We will try to do that at
5 PM. After that, we'll either talk or fight on, but before either, we will
have to get some bread. You are not the only one with big appetites you know!

     While Pista, Olaf and Vaszil are waiting for the telephone call, Pista
also tells me that he has faith in Janos Kadar. Pista considers himself a
Communist, who's quarrel with the Russians is not about their social model,
but about their totalitarian methods and their occupation of other people's
countries. He was very optimistic about the cease fire and was planning to
put up a red (and a black) flag, next to the Hungarian tri-color, on their
building. It was nearing 5 PM, when I said farewell to them.
     (That was the last time I have seen Istvan Angyal. He was captured on
the 16th of November, 1956 and was hanged on the 1st of December, 1958. In
prison he wrote:  The Hungarians fought and died for world-freedom in 1848
and we are carrying on the same flag today. This fight of ours can determine
the future of all mankind. It is an honor to be the son of such a nation. I
am happy that I was born to be a Hungarian and if I could re-live my life, I
would want to live it exactly as I did.  When he was being taken to the
gallows, he tore his photograph from his identity card and on the back of the
passport-size photo, wrote in pencil:  Long live free Hungary!  and handed it
to his cell-mate, Imre Mics.)
     Kerepes is 20 kilometers (12.5 miles) from Budapest. It took me 3-4
hours to walk home. On Hungaria Boulevard, some pockets of freedom fighters
were still holding out. As I am approaching the Russian airport at
Matyasfvld, the road looks like a scene from the Second World War. I did not
realize, that there were so many tanks in the whole world. (Later I learned,
that the Soviets used 2,600 tanks during this second invasion.) Each tank
column is a mile long and they just keep coming, one after the other.
Whenever there is fighting, I detour into the corn-fields and return to the
road, when it seems safe to do so.
     Kornil Poppe, our neighbor's son is also on his way home, so we walk
together. There are no Hungarian vehicles on the road. The few pedestrians we
meet, look scared, when they notice my arm-band and don't dare to look me in
the eye. Kornil acts like if he did not notice it, but when we get to the
outskirts of our village, decides to take a back road. So I walk home alone.
It is dark. As I reach the gate, Bukucs, my young German Shepherd, goes out
of her mind with excitement. She is licking me and climbing all over me
followed by laying down on her back, showing her tummy. This is her sign of
ultimate submission. (This was the last time I saw Bukucs, this totally loyal
and good friend, with whom I spent many happy days in the woods, refused to
eat and died after my departure.)
      I hear a suppressed scream and see Memi running toward us. She is
checking me over for wounds, when Aptyi arrives. He just takes me in his arms
and holds me. Does not say anything, and after a while, like ice melting or
like a volcano building up pressure for eruption, I begin to feel this
avalanche of emotion, which I can no longer control and I burst out in
sobbing and tears.
      When we finally straighten out, Aptyi's voice is choked. He turns in
the direction, which I have come from and says:  Well, it's time to go.  I
have no idea what he means, why are we not going into the house? We are
already out on the road, when he explains:  This morning, the house was
searched by the AVH. The Pufajkas were looking for you. So you can not sleep
here!
      We are on our way to one of our neighbors, uncle Szabs. I will sleep
there. They have planned out everything. Memi has packed some food, got me
clean underwear and without saying it in so many words, lets me know, that
the less time I spend in Kerepes, the better. The Szabss are very nice, they
try very hard not to show that they hate the idea of my being in their house.
But it is obvious, that they are scared. I get their best room. The three of
us, we sit there for a couple of hours, talking without saying anything, that
the other doesn't know, trying to reassure each other, without knowing, how
that could be done. Around midnight, I ask them to go home, and tell them,
that I will leave early in the morning.

Mr Hidas,

        Yes, the initial statement I made was anti-semetic. I should phrased
it differently - I did not intend it to sound that I am accusing all Jewish
people as being "pro-semites", just a majority of those from which I heard
statements on one thing or another.


Karcsi

>The problem is why an intellectual is wrong or mistaken and why a writer is
>incorrect re facts or opinion. Are they wrong for intellectual reasons or
>because their mother was Jewish? I have no objection to any attack or
 criticism>of any view but why are you attacking the messenger rather than the
 message?
>Peter I. Hidas, Montreal


        I am not, and I repeat, not critising these people because they are
Jewish - do not pateronise me please. What I am saying is that it is people
like neo-nazis etc who start the racist ball rolling, but it is elements in
the races that perpetuate its motion (in some case turning it into a snowball).
All I am critising is their actions - miuse of they status (e.g Farakan).

The building fiercefully gutted was either next to 'Lordok Haza' (McDonald's
nowdays I understand) or the second towards Gellert Sq. It was a memento to
the revolution for quite a while with hanging staircases, balconies, windows.
You could actually see through it. It was reconstructed as a separate entity
among apartment buildings mostly from the 30s. Nora

I am Jewish and experienced quite a bit of overt and covert anti-semitism
in Hungary and some in the United States. My childhood experiences have
strongly effected me for the rest of my life. To me this is very simple.
We should remove all ethnic and other labels from people. There are good
people and bad people of all nationalities, races and religions. If I do
something bad to you it should have nothing to do with my jewishness and
the rest of the world's jews should not be blamed for it. This is the
point that most people who hate "groups" sorely missed. Also if I can't
make it in life it is my fault, not the jew's or the catholic's or the
white's etc. etc.... whatever the case maybe.

>
> I am Jewish and experienced quite a bit of overt and covert anti-semitism
> in Hungary and some in the United States. My childhood experiences have
> strongly effected me for the rest of my life. To me this is very simple.
> We should remove all ethnic and other labels from people. There are good
> people and bad people of all nationalities, races and religions. If I do
> something bad to you it should have nothing to do with my jewishness and
> the rest of the world's jews should not be blamed for it. This is the
> point that most people who hate "groups" sorely missed. Also if I can't
> make it in life it is my fault, not the jew's or the catholic's or the
> white's etc. etc.... whatever the case maybe.
>

I wish we could, but part of the human psyche needs identification and
until we raise it past the level of nations and states, we will still
hang on to forms of competing identities that will serve as tools for
someone. Perhaps not the majority will use them to discriminate (though
in the good ol' USA, I am beginning to doubt that more and more).

Darren Purcell
Department of Geography
Florida State University

___MAGYAR ELEKTRONIKUS TOZSDE____________________________HU-ISSN_1216-0229
HUNGARIAN ELECTRONIC EXCHANGE     copyright  1990.=20

Szeptemberben a Budapesti =C9rtektozsde tortenetenek legnagyobb havi
forgalmat regisztralta mind a prompt, mind a feleve beindult
szabvanyositott hataridos piacan.

Szeptemberben megelenkult az allampapirok tozsdei piaca, ami tobb
nagyvolumenu kotesnek koszonheto.

A reszvenyarfolyamok ennek ellenere folyamatosan emelkedtek, a tozsde
hivatalos reszvenyindexe - a BUX- egy honap alatt 28 ponttal erosodott,
szeptember vegen 1595.96 ponton zart, es a honap vege fele erte el idei
legmagasabb (1629.40 pont) erteket.


Tozsdere kerult meg a honap folyaman a Richter Gedeon ldb, torzs-
reszvennye atalakitott reszvenye is.

A Tozsdetanacs egy  korabbi dontese alapjan - a kibocsato keresere - a B=C9=
T
szeptember vegen torolte az ertekpapirlistarol a Sztrada-Skala bemutatora
es nevre szolo reszvenyeit, igy a tozsde jelenleg 41 reszvenytarsasagot
regisztral, melyek osszpiaci erteke 219 MdFt.


 Azonnali piac
 Reszvenyek

Az augusztusi rekordkotest kovetoen a B=C9T reszvenyforgalma a honap
folyaman 20 MdFt-rol 9MdFt-ra csokkent, viszont a reszvenyek 60a% -anak az
ara emelkedett.

A tozsde forgalmi eredmenyeire jelentos hatast gyakorolt az OTP augusztusi
bevezetese, a honap legnagyobb forgalmu (1,5 MdFt) es a masodik
legnagyobb kapi- talizacioju (28 MdFt) papirja volt, mikozben az
arfolyam az 1200 Ft-os kibocsatasi arrol 1030 Ft-ra csokkent, a hibas
bevezetes miatt.

Az EGlS folytatta tovabbi jo szerepleset, a reszvenyek ara a mult honapi
rekordkotes utan tovabb emelkedett. Mikozben a reszveny a honap  harmadik
legnagyobb  forgalmu (1.3 MdFt) papirja volt. A Plck is folytatta korabbi
stabil tozsdei szerepleset,  1.4 MdFt-os forgalom mellett az arfolyam egy
kisebb emelkedes  utan a honap eleji szintre csokkent vissza.

A B=C9T legnagyobb kapitalizacioju (40 Md- Ft) reszvenye, a Rlchter Gedeon
piaca is likvid volt szeptemberben, a papirok kozel 800 MFt ertekben
forogtak a parketten, mikozben az arfolyam 2.485 Ft-ig emelkedett, majd
2.355 Ft-on zart.

Ez a negy reszveny adta a szeptemberi reszvenyforgalom kozel felet, de
hasonlo koncentracio figyelheto meg mas csoportositasi szempontok
alapjan is. Az automatikus kereskedesbe bevezetett reszvenyek
(Danubius, Globus, Pick, Primagaz, Soproni Sorgyar, Pannonplast, Egis,
Glo- bal, Graboplast, Pharmavit, Richter Gede- on, Hajdutej, Human, OTP)
forgalombol valo reszesedese tovabbra is jelentos, a reszvenypiaci uzletek
73% -at erre a tizennegy automatikus papirra kotottek, az ar
folyamerteken szamolt forgalomban pedig aranyuk 83% volt. A bevezetesi
kategoriak alapjan szetvalasztva a cegeket a magasabb szintu
kovetelmenyeknek megfelelo 14 jegyzett ceg adta az uzletek 62%- at es a
forgalom 81 %-at.

a P/E mutato - az IFC szamitasi metodusara atterve - 9.16,
a P/BV 1.08,
az osztalekhozam pedig 3.26

 Allampapirok


A honap folyaman mind az allamkotvenyek, mind a kincstarjegyek piacat
augusztushoz kepest jelentos forgalomnovekedes (22 milliard Ft)

A diszkont kincstarjegyek eseteben ezt az magyarazhatja, hogy az aukciokon
a tulkereslet mellett a hozamok jelentosen estek (a DWIX egy honap
alatt 33.04%-rol 32.45% -ra csokkent), a lekotetlen penzek igy a
masodlagos piacon kerulhettek befektetesre. Itt foleg az oktoberben
lejaro 3 honapos kincstarjegyek piaca volt likvid, igy ugy tunik, csupan
rovidtavu tokelekolekotesre kerult sor a B=C9T piacan.

Befektetesi jegyek

Szeptemberben a 35 befektetesi alap jegyeire arfolyamerteken 117 millio
forint ertekben kotottek uzletet a tozsde parkettjen. A befektetesi
jegyek forgalma a julius havi  novekedes utan tovabb csokkent. Az
erdeklodes kozeppontjaban most valoszinuleg azok a nyilt vegu alapok all-
nak, amelyek jelenleg jegyezhetok es iden mar rajuk is vonatkozik a
befektetesi adokedvezmeny.

Karpotlasi jegy 120% os arfolyamon zart !!
..nincs megfelelo kinalat

Hataridos piac

A B=C9T hataridos piacan szeptemberoen rekord, 6sszesen 674 millio forintos
forgalmat regisztraltak a termekek arjegyzoi, ami az elozo havi
forgalomnak kozel haromszorosa. A nyitott kotesallomany a honap vegen
609 kontraktusra emelkedett, arfolyamerteken pedig 435 millio forintot ert
el. (Ez 74%-os emelkedes augusztus- hoz kepest!)=20
Forgalom osszeteteleben atvettek a vezeto szerepet a devizak, mikozben a
kincstarjegy es a BUX forgalom is megduplazodott.


 Tozsden kivuli piac

A brokercegek lejelentett statisztikai szerint szeptemberben a teljes
ertekpapirpiaci forgalom (119.5 MFt) 71%-a koncentralodott a tozsden
kivuli piacra (OTC).


A Tozsdetanacs d6ntese alapjan 1995. oktober 2-tol a BUX kosara 21
reszvenysoro- zatot tartalmaz.=20

A  BUX  kosaraban  szereplo  21  papir
Agrimpex nevre szolo, Danubius, Domus,
Ounaholding, Egis, Martfui Sorgyar, Fotex,
Global,  Globus,  Goldsun,  Graboplast,
Human, Inter Europa Bank, Pannonplast,
Pick,  Primagaz,  Richter Gedeon,  OTP
Bank, Skala-Coop T, Zalakeramia, Zwack
a tozsde reszvenyforgalmanak 96%-at, a
reszvenykapitalizacionak pedig a 90%-at
reprezentalta szeptember honapban.
R=C9SZV=C9NY                              utolso forgalom            52  HE=
T
                                        Ar      Datum          leqm.   leqa=

---------- Originally,  wrote to PETROVICS OFNER
----------


AMOS writes:
D> Basically, I agree with Eva's assessment of
D> Petrovics-Ofner's
D> Brown shoes
D> .  I was very angry after  reading it for
D> the first
D> time,  on second  reading it was  only annoying.
D>  Then it became
D> clear to me that he is the author of fiction,not
D> history. Still,
D> I reject any connection between 1944 and 1956.
D> I find it more disturbing, however, that some
D> people seeming-
D> ly find support in such  writings for their
D>  hate of Hungary and
D> Hungarians. It is truly sad!
D>
I hope you have read my recent posts that addresses some of these
issues. Partly, readers were
misguided as to the main idea by the titles that editors used. Second,
concrete thinking in the
Forum, that tends to generalize from single events to the whole, did
not notice that when I spoke
generally about the Revolution, I called it "the purest truth" --an
outcry for freedom.  As for my own
experiences, what can I say, but to convey them honestly.

My intent is to be "truly" fictional --my aim is to help you to see,
to hear, above all else, to FEEL.
I have succeeded in this to some extent. You talk of feelings.
However, the personal foment,
including primitive infanticide, is what bothers me. Hate, as you say,
seems to prevade the Forum,
as well as those who experienced the Revolution, both for pro and con.

Far from hating Hungary, I have chosen to return to live and raise a
family here. There is much
that is uniquely wondeful here which grows on one only with time.

LPO
experience




--- MOMS 3.0

M>
M> Dear Forum Members:
M>
M> At first bewildered by the much upset the
M> essay "Brown Shoes"
M> created, I am able to understand part of the
M> cause. I want to
M> apologize for the arrogant mind-set when you
M> started reading.
M>
M> In both essays, my title was changed to assumptions
M> about the
M> main idea or "treatise" as Eva Balogh calls
M> it, assumptions I never
M> intended.
M> My own title was "Brown Shoes -1956." As such,
M> it is not judgemental,
M> nor does it create a mind set that insults
M> people. The edited title,
M> in the Budapest Week, "Setting the Record
M> Straight," presents the main
M> idea that I know what the record is. I do
M> not.
M>
M> Perhaps I did not make clear enough that I
M> am actually
M> hungering for a powerful text that presents
M> a group effort.
M> Our history deserves this.
M>
M> The title in Hungary Report, using the term
M> "Dymystification," was a
M> word I never used (and would hopefully not
M> misspell in a
M> title).  It assumes that my observations were
M> THE true
M> reality of 1956. I respect all honest efforts
M> to tell the truth.
M>
M> The venom and zeal, with which Hungarians
M> in Diaspora knee-jerk
M> to such injury to self-concept by ex-pat editors,
M> however, regressing
M> to fascist
M> outcry, even advocating Mitchner's fabricated
M> baby-killing,
M> is very troublesome. It shows great pain and
M> the need for at-one-ment in our community..
M>
M> LPO
M>
M> --- MOMS 3.0
M>
M>

-------------------- End of quoted message --------------------




--- MOMS 3.0

M>
M> P> Peter I. Hidas wrote:
M> P> >Is it the aim of most (if not all) Jewish
M> P> writers/intellectuals to
M> P> >turn everything round into an antisemetic
M> P> discussion? - or am I just being ove
M> P> r
M> P> >dramatic.
M> P> >Karcsi

Response:
M> P> >Dear Karcsi,
M> P> >You are not being over dramatic but you
M> are
M> P> making anti-Semitic statements.
M> P>

paul gelencser responds,
M> P> Why and how under the sky can this statement
M> P> be called anti-Semitic?
M> P> Is critisizing a Jew the definition of
M> anti-Semitism?
M> P> Jews are no better
M> P> than anyone else, and can justly be critisized.
M>
Not in terms of mature thinking. You are defending
generalizations,
equating one with the whole. Your statement,
if you will see, jumps
from
the singular to the plural, a global whole.
This is what Piaget calls
the
though processes that reflect the Level of
Concrete Operations.

This, precisely, is what is wrong with crticisms
of
Hungary's own role in the Holocaust. They,
too, tend to be global.
How can we stand up against the weight of
a Wiesel,
a Nobel Laureatte, who publicly declares he
will never utter
a word of Hungarian. Weren't the Hungarian
Nazis under
Szalasi a vast minority?  What part carried
out the Death March
to Hegyeshalom.
My mother lost relatives
on the road. And I say, still, Hungary is
a good and wholesome
country. It
took my return to sink roots for once and
create a family.  A few
need not discolor the whole.  The Black of
the Holocaust need not
discolor its vitality and genius of its people.
Especially if one can
understand that when One does not equal a
WHOLE,
the few Hungarians who partook in such brutality
and animal rage
should not reflect on a total populace and
its offspring.
I have often written, encouraging Wiesel to
return to Hungary
as a means to at-one-ment.

LPO




--- MOMS 3.0

Eva Balogh writes:

E>
You
E> can come up with a new
E> interpretation (slant, if you wish), but an
E> interpretation which is totally
E> divorced from reality will not stand on its
E> own.
E>
E> So basically my main objection to the piece
E> is that it is based on confused
E> thinking.

Thanks for your time and critique. But TOTALY divorced from reality?

Eva, Eva are you like Joe, too. Concrete. My experiences are just as
valid as yours.
I never claimed to be a historian. My second novel, which starts with
scenes of love
for Stalin (as much as I loved G. Washington or Zorro in the States),
is equally "real."

I believe it was Gertrude Stein who said that anyone who has lived
past the age of
eight can write for the rest of their life.  My intent, as I told your
colleague from Rutgers,
is to make you hear, make you see, it is above all else to make you
feel. And once achieved,
all the truth of life is there, a sigh, a smile, and return to eternal
rest.

Does that sound like an effort at history.  You, unlike others, have
the faculty to
feel empathy for the little
boy who saw such things --for him it was horrifying.

As for confusion, as a new WWW user, I admit I am confused. I do not
yet know
protocal, especially among a host of historians.

Do it Eva! Do it! You be the one. Write the major text. Most of the
world do not live
like historians. Few will research archives. And this, in part, is why
a FICTION writer like Mitchner
speaks to the world for the truth of the Revolution.

By the way, did you get my rather lengthy personal post on survival
guilt. I am afraid it may
have misfired. In my role as a psychologist, I try to explain how, in
daily life here in Budapest,
the connection between 1944 and 1956 remains strong, psychologically,
at least. I am afraid that due to my ineptitude with this medium, it
may have misfired.
Please let me know.

LPO






--- MOMS 3.0