Óbuda Synagogue (בית הכנסת של אובודה, Óbudai Zsinagóga)

Copyright Elgaard, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International

The Óbuda Synagogue, which appears in my currently still hiatused WIP The Strongest Branches of Uprooted Trees, was built from 1820–21, when the then-town of Óbuda had Hungary’s biggest Jewish community. At the time, Jews were forbidden to live in Buda. (In 1873, Buda, Óbuda, and Pest united to become the beautiful city of Budapest.)

The Óbuda Jewish community dates back to at least 1349. By the 15th century, it had grown substantially, but the city was wiped out by the Ottomans after the 1526 Battle of Mohács. There was no more record of Jewish population until the 1712 census, which listed 24 families and 88 people, mostly Moravian immigrants.

Copyright Csörföly D, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

They were under the protection of Count Péter Zichy, whose private lands included Óbuda. Because they always paid the mandated protective tax on time and in full, they were able to live in peace, without harassment by authorities, and were granted their own courts of law, the right to buy land and start business, kosher meat and wine.

Their first synagogue was built in 1737 and outgrown in 1746, after which Countess Zsuzsanna Zichy ordered it expanded. The next shul was designed in Baroque style from 1767–69, built by Máté Nöpauer. Unfortunately, the walls cracked on account of a bad foundation and poor soil.

The Buda Building Committee enlisted experts in 1817 to discern if a new shul should be built to replace the existing one. They decided to rebuild it with mostly the same walls.

Copyright Joalbertine, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Architect András Landherr was put in charge of the project, which lasted a year and a half. The shul got a new southern façade, 662 seats (364 for men and 298 in the ladies’ gallery), a vestibule with six Corinthian columns, and a new roof structure. Ferenc Goldringer served as carpenter, and János Maurer did the stucco.

Under the tympanum (decorative triangular portion above the columns) is the Hebrew quote “Every prayer, every supplication, that comes from any man…and stretches out his hands towards this house” (1 Kings 8:38).

Copyright VinceB, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

The synagogue was consecrated on 20 July 1821, with great fanfare. It was one of the most beautiful, magnificent, awe-inspiring European buildings of the era. Even Archduke Joseph of Austria (Palatine of Hungary) frequently brought foreign guests there to show it off.

The Pest Flood of March 1838 damaged the building, and congregants had to row into it in boats to save the Torah scrolls. At its height, there were 28 scrolls.

Copyright Fekist, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.5 Generic

In 1900, architect Gyula Ullmann renovated the shul with Art Nouveau elements complementing its original French Empire style. Electric lights were also added.

During WWI, the government requisitioned the copper roof to be melted down into ammunition. Many other houses of worship in Austria–Hungary also had their roofs, bells, gutters and other metal components taken for war machinery. Some churches’ crucifixes were even melted down.

Copyright Fekist, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International

At the time of its 1821 reconstruction, the synagogue was Orthodox, but after the death of Rabbi Moses Münz in 1831, they joined the uniquely Hungarian denomination Neology, which is comparable to liberal Modern Orthodox or very, very old-school Conservative.

The congregation gradually shrank during the late 19th and early 20th centuries as more and more people moved to the Pest side of Budapest, which was the centre of Hungarian Jewish life in that era.

Copyright Fekist, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International

There were an estimated 3,600 members in the spring of 1944, when the Nazis invaded and occupied Hungary. This represented a 40% decrease from 1929. Though Budapest was relatively safer than the countryside in that there were no deportations to Auschwitz, there were still two ghettoes in the city where people were forced to live. Living conditions were also extremely rough, and many Budapestis were shot into the Danube by the fascist Arrow Cross.

About 3,000 Jews on the Óbuda side of the city perished. The shul was also damaged. Rabbi József Neumann survived and stayed with his community until retiring at age eighty in 1956, though his first wife, Katalin Bick, was murdered in 1944.

Copyright Fekist, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International

Though the building was repaired from 1946–47, its religious school was forced by the Soviets to close in 1948. The next year, the Óbuda Jewish community lost its independence and had to merge with the greater Budapest religious community.

Because of dwindling attendance under Soviet repression, immigration to other countries, and the devastating membership loss of the Shoah, Óbuda Synagogue was sold in the mid-Sixties and turned into a TV station. However, it gained protection as a national monument in 1957, so there was never any real danger of it being torn down.

Copyright Fekist, Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International

In 2010, the synagogue was renovated and reconsecrated. On 8 September, Rosh Hashanah, the doors opened to the public and regular worship resumed under Rabbi Slomó (né Máté) Köves, one of Hungary’s leading contemporary rabbis. He strives to build a positive Jewish identity and community based on our religious heritage and culture, instead of a negative identity based primarily on the Shoah.

Today Óbuda Synagogue once more has a thriving congregation, despite the worrying growth of antisemitism in modern Hungary.

Wesselényi Utca and the White Paper

Copyright Fauvirt

Wesselényi Utca is part of Erzsébetváros (Elizabeth Town), the historical Jewish quarter of District VII of Budapest. During the German occupation of 1944–45, it formed part of the large ghetto. There were two ghettoes, a small, international ghetto for those with phony foreign citizenship enabling them to live in the relatively protected Yellow Star Houses, and a large ghetto for everyone else.

The street runs about a kilometer and a half (a bit under a mile).

Budapest JCC, 7 Wesselényi Utca, Copyright Globetrotter19

Detail of cast-stone reliefs depicting the Twelve Tribes, Sculptor István Strasser Örkényi, Copyright Globetrotter19

The street got its modern name in 1872, from reforming politician and patriot Baron Miklós Wesselényi de Hadad (20 December 1796–2 April 1850). Only the downtown side was developed until 1887, when it began expanding and improving.

Landmarks include the former Metropolitan Shoemakers’ Guild HQ, the Ministry of Education, Henrik Meyer Baptist Theological Student Hostel and Baptist church (in the same building), the stage door of the Magyar Theatre, former HQ of the Paint Industry Board, a former Jewish elementary school (converted to a hospital in the ghetto), and the former JCC.

Classicist monument house, Wesselényi Utca 15, Copyright Globetrotter19

My characters the Goldmarks, widowed mother Lídia and her children Imre, Júlia, and Nándor, move into an apartment on Wesselényi Utca after the end of the war. Mrs. Goldmark was in the large ghetto without protective papers, but she managed to send her children to relative safety in the international ghetto with phony papers from Carl Lutz. They formerly lived in the Castle District on the Buda side.

Mrs. Goldmark found a way across the Danube and recovered what she could from their former home, including a fair amount of furniture, and brought it back across the river to their new apartment. Though they’re a religious Neolog family, they’re still upper-middle-class Budapestis used to a certain lifestyle.

Former Shoemakers’ Guild HQ, Wesselényi Utca 17, built 1905, Copyright Diana, Source Flickr

Detail of wall decoration, Copyright Diana, Source Flickr

The British White Paper of 1939 is one of the blackest marks on British history, very similar to America’s equal black mark of “The Emergency Immigration Quota.” Both significantly contributed to the number of people prevented from reaching safety before the Nazis devoured them.

Neville Chamberlain issued this most foul piece of quasi-legislation in response to the 1936–39 Arab revolts in the British Mandate of Palestine. The Arab population (who weren’t calling themselves Palestinians at this time, contrary to modern-day ultra-Left propaganda) revolted in part because they were very unhappy with the large mass of Jewish immigrants.

1936 bus with wire over the windows, as a safeguard against terrorism

Evacuating the Old City of Jerusalem, 1936

The White Paper was approved by the House of Commons on 23 May 1939, and limited Jewish immigration to 75,000 over five years. Further immigration would be determined by the Arabs. Jews weren’t allowed to buy land from Arabs anymore, and Britain would only allow a Jewish state with Arab approval.

The British didn’t consider a binational state. They foresaw an Arab state which included a Jewish national home within ten years.

Women’s protest by King David Hotel, Jerusalem, 22 May 1939

Haganah HQ demonstration, Jerusalem, 1939

Though all self-respecting Zionists immediately rejected this piece of filth, it was heartily accepted by major scumbag and terrorist Hajj Amin el-Husseini, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem and an ally of Hitler. For several months, protests and attacks on government property reigned, and a general strike was called on 18 May.

The White Paper led to a very sharp uptick in illegal immigration, since these people desperately needed to leave occupied Europe, and there was no other way to get to Palestine. There were only 34,000 legal immigration certificates left by December 1942, when the Shoah became public knowledge (albeit buried in tiny print in the back pages and dismissed as Polish and Jewish propaganda trying to drum up sympathy).

Women’s demonstration, 18 May 1939, King George Street, Jerusalem

Youth demonstration, 18 May 1939, Zion Circle, Jerusalem

After the war, the vile Ernest Bevin (Labour Foreign Minister), nicknamed Bergen-Bevin, continued the policy of severely restricting immigration. Many survivors wanted to go to Palestine, the only place where they’d be fully, truly accepted and understood. Instead of being allowed to go to their homeland, these survivors were forced to remain in Europe, a continent which represented a blood-soaked graveyard.

Many of the ships attempting to bypass the British blockade were pirated, and the survivors attacked mercilessly. Some were killed during the resulting assaults and skirmishes. Other ships were sunk. Those who survived were forced into detention camps on Cyprus.

Even after Israel declared her independence in May 1948, the British forced many military-aged men to remain on Cyprus. Their wives and children usually chose to stay with them.

Demonstration by Atlit detention camp in Palestine

Szent János Hospital, La Samaritaine, and Sant’Ambrogio Market

View of hospital from Kis–Sváb Hill, Copyright Globetrotter19

Szent János Hospital was founded in 1800, on the corner of Margit Körút (Boulevard) and Hattyú Utca (Swan Street). In 1820, there was new construction (including a statue of St. John of Nepomuk), and in 1873, the number of beds grew from 100 to 234. An 1887 resolution ordered the building of a new hospital, with 300 beds.

The new hospital, with 420 beds, opened 3 August 1898, to great ceremony. That year, the hospital began adding new departments to treat all the sick people of both Buda and Pest. It also served as a teaching hospital. Among the new departments were an X-ray lab (1910), a modern maternity ward (1935), venereal urology (1934), orthopaedic surgery (1918), and eye disorders (1898).

Entrance to Hospital in the Rock, 1944

Though the hospital was partly damaged during WWII, it wasn’t destroyed or bombed, and the doctors and nurses worked overtime to tend to all the wounded. They hid deserters, dissidents, and Jews, and Prof. Boldizsár Horváth saved a group being held hostage by the Óbuda brick factory. Sadly, the chief physician was taken away, another doctor was shot dead on hospital grounds, and not everyone from the brick factory was able to be saved.

During the Siege and Battle of Budapest, doctors and nurses also used the Hospital in the Rock (Sziklakórház), a hospital carved into the caverns under Buda Castle in the 1930s. By night, the dead were smuggled out and buried in bomb craters. There were times when, due to a total lack of food and supplies, hospital staff had to take them off dead bodies and sterilise them. Horses were also killed for food. It was only meant for 60–70 patients, but it treated up to 600.

Both hospitals again saw heavy use during the 1956 uprising. In late 1956, a spin-off, Royal Children’s Hospital, was created.

Copyright Solymári

During their stay in Pasarét in October–November 1945, my characters Caterina and Marie find temporary employment by Szent János Hospital. All hands are needed on deck, even though Caterina isn’t currently in possession of her medical license or anything else to prove she’s really a doctor. Marie is only 14, but she’s accepted too, since she served as Caterina’s assistant in three camps. They’re put to work with pediatric patients, much to sweet little Marie’s delight.

Copyright Pergl Pergl from On the move, Source Flickr

La Samaritaine is a massive Parisian department store founded in 1869 by husband and wife Ernest Cognacq and Marie-Louise Jaÿ. Ironically, Mme. Jaÿ was the first clothing vendor at rival department store Le Bon Marché. It’s in the First Arrondissement, not too far from Le Meurice and the Tuileries Garden.

The couple decided to transform their boutique into a department store by buying up surrounding buildings, and from 1883–1933, the closest blocks were completely renovated and reworked. From 1903–07, Belgian architect Frantz Jourdain gave the building an Art Nouveau style. Final architect Henri Sauvage converted the style to Art Deco.

Copyright Ana Paula Hirama, Source Paris – France, Mar2015

The 11-story complex takes its name from a hydraulic pump by the nearby Pont Neuf (the oldest surviving bridge over the Seine), which operated from 1609–1813. There was a bas-relief of the Samaritan Woman drawing water for Jesus on the front of the pump, and Cognacq’s original stand was on that very site.

My characters visit La Samaritaine in December 1945, on their first full day in Paris. They take lunch at the rooftop café, which has a lovely bird’s-eye view of the city, including the Eiffel Tower. While there, Imre buys Csilla a tiger fur coat (which she wears out of the store), and replacements for some of the clothes and shoes she lost when she was deported.

Copyright Groume, Source Flickr: Samaritaine

Sant’Ambrogio Market opened in 1873, in Piazza Ghiberti, open every day but Sunday, 7 AM to 2 PM. On Wednesdays and Fridays, they’re open until 7:00. Though the most famous Florentine market is the Central Market, Sant’Ambrogio has a more relaxed atmosphere.

Pretty much everything you could want is sold here—bread, meat, eggs, fruit, vegetables, crafts, cheese, fish, spices, clothes, housewares, pastries, et al. Part of the market is inside, and part outside. Famous restaurant Trattoria da Rocco is also inside the market building.

Copyright sailko

My characters Caterina, Marie, Eszter, and Júlia go to Sant’Ambrogio in November 1945, since it’s a very short walk from their vacation apartment (financed with the large sum of money Imre and Júlia got from their mother before leaving Budapest). By the market, they pick up almost everything they need to make a grand Italian culinary Chanukah feast.

Copyright sailko

Pasarét and Ponte Vecchio

Typical Pasarét villa, Copyright Petru suciu

Pasarét is a Bauhaus neighbourhood in District II of Budapest, on the Buda side. Its borders are Pasaréti Út, Hűvösvölgyi Út (which turns into Szilágyi Erzsébet Fasor), Herman Ottó Út, Lorántffy Zsuzsanna Utca, Battal Út, Csalán Út, Páfrányliget Utca, and part of Szerb Antal Út.

Prior to Hungarian independence, Pasarét was identified as Ried (Meadow) on old Army maps. It was later called Sauwiesen (Pig Meadow) and Schmalzbergel (Fat Hill). Serbian Budapestis called it Paša (Meadow). In 1847, philologist Gábor Döbrentei joined the Serbian name with the Hungarian word rét (meadow) to form the modern name: Meadow Meadow.

St. Anthony of Padua Church (built 1933), Copyright Globetrotter19

In the early 20th century, it became a desirable location, and attracted many artists, musicians, intellectuals, writers, Bohemians, and scientists. Among its famous residents were Béla Bartók, writer Antal Szerb, politician Imre Nagy, composer Ernő Dohnányi, and writer István Örkény.

One of the most famous landmarks is the St. Anthony of Padua Church, built in Bauhaus style like many of the other Pasarét structures built during the 1930s. Even the bus station was built in Bauhaus style. Pasarét also has several parks, and Ludovika Engineer Academy.

Bus terminal next to church, Copyright Globetrotter19

My characters move to Pasarét after Eszter receives a letter from her much-older sister Mirjam in early October 1945. Mirjam and her three roommates make room for them, and find an abandoned apartment across the hall for the boys. Since the landlord was killed in a bombing raid during the war, no one’s keeping dibs on what goes on in this building.

During their brief time in Pasarét, Eszter, Jákob, Imre, Csilla, and Artur work at the fictional Hotel Juhász Gyula, in various positions. The hotel is also built in Bauhaus style. It’s a blue, four-story, cubic building, not some sprawling grand hotel or huge edifice rising high into the sky.

Copyright Tamas Szabó

Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge) is the oldest surviving Florentine bridge. Its current incarnation was built in 1345. The first version was built by the Romans, and first mentioned in 996. In 1117, it was destroyed by a flood, and the second bridge was destroyed by another flood in 1333. Only two central piers were saved. Ponte Vecchio spans the Arno River at its narrowest point.

Like Budapest, Florence too saw all her bridges destroyed when the Germans surrendered and fled the city. However, unlike Budapest, Florence was left with this one bridge. Supposedly, this was because of an order from Hitler. Regardless, access to the bridge was blocked, since the Germans blew up the buildings on either end.

Damaged but not destroyed

The bridge has always hosted merchants, kiosks, and shops. According to legend, the concept of bankruptcy originated here, as a money-charger who couldn’t pay his or her debts had the table where the goods were sold (banco) broken (rotto) by soldiers. Hence, the newly-coined term bancorotto (broken table), or banca rotta (broken bank). Without a table, the merchant could no longer sell anything.

Taken by famous photographer Carlo Brogi

View from above, Copyright sailko

Above the bridge is the Vasari Corridor, built by Giorgio Vasari on orders from Cosimo I de’ Medici in 1565. This corridor connected Palazzo Vecchio (the town hall) with Palazzo Pitti (chief residence of the Grand Duchy of Tuscany’s rulers). In 1593, the Medicis forbade butchers from selling on the bridge, so it wouldn’t be seen as a low-class place. Butchers had had a monopoly on the shops since 1442. In their place went gold merchants.

View from below, Copyright sailko

My characters Imre and Csilla reunite on Ponte Vecchio after a brief separation, 22 November 1945, Imre’s 19th birthday. Imre stayed behind in Budapest on some mystery business, which he reveals is exactly what she suspected, going to her hometown Abony to dig up the valuables in her coal cellar and to confront the gendarme who’s now living there, the gendarme who tortured her last June.

Imre also reveals a broken hand, acquired when he accidentally punched a brick wall in his white-hot rage, not realising the gendarme had already fallen unconscious to the floor. He still wasn’t satisfied, and kicked the gendarme over and over again, finishing him off with a shovel to the head, and possibly killing him. Imre says he only did it because he loves her so much, the first time he’s told her he loves her.

Sunset fills the sky after this romantic declaration.

Copyright Martin Falbisoner

Normafa and Neology

Copyright Kaszás Tibor

Normafa is a hiking, picnicking, skiing, and lookout area at the top of Széchenyi Hill, in District XII (Hegyvidék) of Budapest, on the hilly Buda side. It’s accessible by the Cog Railway (launched 24 June 1874) and the Children’s Railway (launched 1950). Normafa is close to János-Hegy (János Hill), the highest point in Budapest.

Normafa takes its name from the Norma tree (originally called a storm beech, viharbükk), said to have been planted by King Mátyás Corvinus in the 15th century. After the Hungarian National Theatre performed Vicenzo Bellini’s two-act opera Norma there in 1840, the new name originated, and stuck.

Sadly, the namesake tree no longer stands. It survived many terrible storms, but in 1927, it was destroyed by lightning.

Copyright Kispados at Hungarian Wikipedia

The area fell into disrepair due to more daytrippers than infrastructure could accommodate. There weren’t enough rubbish bins or benches, and many exposed roots and slippery leaves caused accidents.

Revamping took five years, and added many new paths, more secure gravel paving, replacement of soil with natural rock from the hill, easy-to-read maps, relaxation areas, lots of new and improved benches, 16 rubbish bins, and an upgraded playground.

Other new additions are an outdoor gym, a 4.5-km. running track, drinking fountains, a baby-changing room, bathrooms, bike-parking, and a cross-country skiing and biking track.

Source FOTO:Fortepan — ID 02787

My characters hike up to Normafa for a daytrip during Sukkot 1945, with a large picnic lunch. Csilla suspects Mrs. Goldmark let the holiday lunches on Saturday and Sunday drag on so long on purpose. Mrs. Goldmark has to be at work on Monday, so there are less buffers between Csilla and Mrs. Goldmark’s older son Imre, whom she’s trying to set up. Imre has also been getting increasingly flirtatious.

Csilla gets drunk on Tokaji Aszú wine and strawberry liqueur, liquid courage for getting physical with the sexually experienced Imre in a secluded spot in the forest. She’s insulted when Imre says he’s not doing anything with a drunk, but after she explains her reasoning, he agrees to treat her to a sensual experience. This is the first time the very tomboyish Csilla has ever done anything with a man.

Unfortunately, as Imre rounds third base, Csilla has an intense flashback to being tortured by a gendarme last June, and her friends come upon the scene and think Imre’s trying to rape her. On the last day of Sukkot, Imre has his sister Júlia deliver a love letter to smooth things over.

Neolog synagogue of Subotica, Serbia, Copyright Dickelbers

Neolog synagogue of Trenčin, Slovakia, Copyright Martin Hlauka (Pescan)

Neology is a denomination unique to Hungary and some nearby areas. Many people inaccurately call it the Hungarian equivalent of Reform Judaism, though it’s more like liberal Modern Orthodoxy, or very, very old-school Conservative Judaism.

Neology began as a mild reform movement in the 19th century, among those segments of society more inclined towards integration during the Era of Emancipation. People were throwing off their symbolic chains, moving out of ghettoes, acculturating to wider society, becoming full, equal citizens of their host countries. In 1867, Austria–Hungary granted legal equality.

Neolog synagogue of Szeged, Copyright Somorjai Ferenc

Fabric New Synagogue of Timişoara, Romania, Copyright Gratziela Ciortuz

The first Neolog rabbis were very influenced by Zecharias Frankel’s Positive–Historical Judaism, from whence the Conservative Movement evolved. This rift solidified following the schism of the 1868–69 Hungarian Jewish Congress. There was a lot of bad blood between Neology and Orthodoxy, each thinking they represented real, relevant, modern Judaism.

To make matters even more complicated, there arose another unique Hungarian denomination, Status Quo Ante. This was also a mild reform movement of sorts.

Neolog synagogue of Oradea, Romania (formerly Nagyvárad, Hungary), Copyright Andrei kokelburg

Neolog synagogue of Braşov, Romania, Copyright Mark Ahsmann

Neology has separate seating for the sexes (generally with an open-air women’s gallery or more relaxed mechitza) and liturgy essentially identical to Orthodoxy. Men are required to cover their heads, Gentiles play organs on the Sabbath, intermarriage isn’t allowed, there’s no confirmation for teenagers, and traditional kosher is kept.

Neolog synagogue in Cluj–Napoca, Romania, Copyright Ana Maria Catalina

Today, Neology is the majority denomination in Hungary. All my native Hungarian characters have Neolog origins, though Eszter’s family leaned more towards Orthodoxy. Since Abony only had a Neolog synagogue, they had no choice.