A Prophet with Honor

by William C. Martin

  For the next five years, Haraszti dedicated himself to gaining an official invitation for Graham to visit Hungary. Never in that time did he meet with the evangelist again, and BGEA paid for none of his numerous trips to Hungary or for telephone bills that ran into the thousands of dollars, though it did supply him with whatever publications and other documentary materials he needed. “If I came to Dr. Smyth and said, ‘Would you agree that I go to Hungary and speak with Palotay?’ he said, ‘No objection.’ But he would never mention [paying for the trip].” Haraszti attributes this stance not to stinginess on the part of BGEA but to the simple fact that no one in the Graham organization thought he could produce an invitation. “They knew what I was doing. If I succeed, OK. If not, it’s just another attempt that backfired. Haraszti’s an independent agent. If he has this obsession that he wants to take Billy Graham to Hungary, [let him try,] but who can believe that it is ever possible?” Haraszti insisted he does not resent having to spend his own money, but the memory of dealing with the unspoken skepticism was obviously still fresh and, viewed from a position of success, rather delicious.

  Working closely with Palotay, whom he characterized as a “daredevil” with a superior talent for public relations and governmental relations, Haraszti fed Miklos with a stream of materials to use in his conversations with his counterparts in Moscow and in other Eastern bloc capitals. He stressed that Graham had long ago moderated his virulent anti-Communist rhetoric and convinced the minister that the 1967 trip to heretical Yugoslavia had been an innocent response to an unexpected opportunity, not a willful attempt to embarrass orthodox Communists. “This was very suspicious,” Haraszti recalled. “It weighed heavily against Dr. Graham. He has not gone back to Yugoslavia since, and not because he has not been invited.” More importantly, he was able to demonstrate, by chronicling the evangelist’s past behavior in countries troubled by political tension, that a visit would create no public embarrassment or subsequent strain for the government.

  Haraszti did not limit his lobbying efforts to Palotay and Miklos. In Hungary he continued to court the Lutheran and Reformed bishops, informing them of Graham’s ecumenical approach and assuring them that a visit by the evangelist would, at worst, do their churches no harm. He also established contact with Hungarian Jews and managed to forge a friendship with Roman Catholic bishop Jooeef Czerháti. Aware that Haraszti was prominent in the American Hungarian community, Czerhati asked for his help in getting U.S. permission for Hungarian priests and nuns to serve in churches catering to people of Hungarian descent in the United States and Canada. Haraszti agreed, but on the condition that as bishop of Hungary’s largest religious body, Czerháti drop the church’s well-known opposition to Graham’s proposed visit. “The bishop grabbed my hand,” Haraszti recalled, “and said: ‘I will welcome Dr. Graham in my chancery when he comes. I will also support his coming at the Ministry for Church Affairs.’” With obvious satisfaction, Haraszti said, “Bishop Czerháti kept his word.” In addition, because of his work with the Hungarian-American community and his many trips to his homeland, Haraszti became well acquainted with the Hungarian ambassador and embassy personnel in Washington, where he pressed the case for Graham at every opportunity. And whenever his travels for the Southern Baptist Foreign Mission Board took him to countries with a Hungarian embassy, he made a point of visiting the ambassador and mentioning what a fine thing it would be for Billy Graham to visit Hungary.

  In the course of these visits, Haraszti picked up two valuable pieces of information. Near the end of World War II, the Crown of St. Stephen, named for Hungary’s patron saint and regarded as the nation’s most precious symbolic treasure, was given to the U.S. Army to avoid confiscation by the Russians. After the Communist takeover, the United States declined to return it, on the grounds that the government was a Soviet puppet rather than a legitimate representative of the Hungarian people. Secondly, the Kádár regime still fervently sought most-favored-nation status for Hungary. In July 1977 Haraszti raised both of these issues with Walter Smyth, suggesting that a few words in the right places would be viewed favorably by the Hungarian government. Smyth bridled at the suggestion. “Alex,” he said, “Billy is not going to get involved in politics!” Having monitored Graham’s career for twenty years, Haraszti shot back, “Dr. Smyth, since when has he not been involved in politics?” Haraszti sensed an invitation was close at hand and pressed his case: “Billy wants to go. You want him to go. I want him to go. We cannot turn back. We must deliver something. We must look into this matter.”

  With approval from Smyth, Haraszti visited the Hungarian ambassador in Washington to learn exactly what Hungary wanted. Frenetic back-corridor negotiations then began in earnest. Late in July the physician arranged a brief meeting in Paris between Graham and Palotay, who gave the evangelist a written but still unofficial invitation, stipulating that he must not make it public until the official state-sanctioned invitation came through. The visit was tentatively scheduled for the first week of September, less than six weeks away, but Graham still had no tangible assurance the invitation was bona fide. A week later Smyth contacted Haraszti in Atlanta and implored him to go to Hungary immediately to obtain an official invitation. A trip Graham regarded as one of the most momentous of his entire ministry needed some planning and publicity. It simply would not do for him to show up in Budapest, preach to a handful of Baptists, and come home with no tales of triumph or pictures of victory over Satan. Scrubbing a full schedule of surgery, Haraszti made the trip, helped Palotay word an invitation that both Graham and the government could approve, got it signed, sped back to the United States, and delivered it in person to Montreat.

  A man with a keen sense of deference and protocol, Haraszti was impressed that Graham had personally driven to the Ashveille airport to meet him but surprised to find the famous evangelist filled with trepidation about the whole Hungarian venture. He remembered that Graham “was shaky, trembling, worried.” He desperately wanted to go, but just as desperately feared the adverse reaction that might descend upon him if he were seen to be a willing dupe of Communist manipulation. Content to let others talk with Haraszti for the previous five years, Graham now pressed the man who had become his unofficial spokesman to Eastern Europe. “Why would they invite me, Alex? What is behind it?”

  Haraszti leveled with him. “I will say it straight, Dr. Graham. It is not for your big blue eyes. And they have not invited you because they want to hear the Gospel.”

  “Then why am I going?” Graham asked.

  “To preach the gospel,” Haraszti said.

  “But you said they don’t want to hear the gospel.”

  “They don’t want to hear it, but they will. There is a purpose. You go to preach the gospel. They invite you because they would like to have the crown back and to get the ‘most-favored-nation status.’”

  “Then this is a swap? A quid pro quo?”

  At that, the Hungarian physician-diplomat gave the southern evangelist a lesson in obliqueness. The Hungarians had demanded nothing, he said. “The invitation is in your hands. I have delivered it. They have already acted in faith in generously giving you something which no Communist government ever gave. This is an all-time first, and even if there is no continuation, you still have it.” Then he held out a carrot Graham could not resist. It was true that other Western religious leaders had spoken at a church in Moscow or sung at a gathering in Poland, but no evangelist from East or West had ever toured a Communist country, speaking in crowded churches and addressing open-air meetings. He would be the first. Haraszti then produced a photocopy of his 1956 translation of Peace with God—the first time Graham had heard of that particular enterprise. “In this book,” he told the amazed evangelist, “I described you as an evangelist to five continents. In my next preface, I will call you Billy Graham, ‘Evangelist to the World.’ In my opinion, this is the beginning of things to come: first, the approval of the Hungarian government; second, the approval of other Communist governments; third, the
approval of the churches—the organized, established churches in Hungary, not just little bitty Baptist churches. They will spread what they have seen and heard and experienced. And so, after Hungary, there shall be another meeting.”

  “I would not accept if there were any conditions,” Graham protested mildly.

  “The Hungarian government would not invite you if you set any conditions,” Haraszti countered. “This was in faith on both sides, because the Hungarian government knew that I was close enough to you that you would accept my advice, and you know that I am close enough to the Hungarian government that it accepts my advice. The government of Hungary did not ask me to do this, but I did tell them I would call these matters to your attention. And they were happy to hear it. They were very happy to hear it. Therefore, I take it upon myself to ask you to please use the services of your good office to see that Hungary gets the crown and the most-favored-nation status.”

  Graham sputtered, “But Alex . . .” But Alex could not be dissuaded. He knew from his contacts that President Carter already had both matters on his desk and could act on his own without legislation if he felt concessions to Hungary would not cause problems in America. He also knew that János Kádár was willing to take a softer line toward religion. For a year his government had been making public and well-received concessions to Catholics and had recently restored diplomatic contacts with the Vatican. Kádár was aware that Jimmy Carter was a Baptist and thought it plausible that a gesture of goodwill toward Graham might be looked upon with favor in the White House. He also knew that Carter was a zealous advocate of human rights and that Eastern bloc restriction of Jewish emigration was a key obstacle to improved relations between the two countries. Kádár faced a ticklish dilemma on this issue. If Hungary applied for most-favored-nation status, Washington would insist that it allow Jews to emigrate freely, a provision the Soviet Union did not observe. If Hungary openly agreed to this demand, it would offend the Soviet Union, something it did not wish to do. If, however, the United States were to offer the desired status without making an explicit demand, Hungary would voluntarily but without fanfare allow Jews to leave the country.

  Now in too far to back out and at some level doubtless enjoying the reunion with power, Graham relayed this information to old friend John Sparkman, chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, who wrote a letter to his counterpart in the Hungarian government, Deputy Premier Gyorgi Aczel. Graham also spoke with Jimmy Carter, who told him he was aware of his plans to visit Hungary and asked him to express his warm greetings to the government and all the people of Hungary, especially the Christians he would be visiting. When Haraszti informed the Hungarian government that Graham had been fully briefed on all matters of concern, and that he had made some “high contacts” and would be coming “with certain things in his pocket,” the government was pleased. As word spread that the Foreign Ministry, which far outranked the Ministry for Church Affairs, would welcome Graham warmly, the Lutheran and Reformed bishops, both of whom had been quite cool toward his coming, suddenly decided it would be marvelous if the evangelist would consent to preach in some of their churches as well as in the Evangelical churches that were his ostensible hosts. That, of course, pleased Billy Graham and Alexander Haraszti. It did not please Sandor Palotay and his colleagues in the Council of Free Churches.

  Palotay had gotten state approval of the invitation by convincing Imre Miklos and other government officials that the meetings at which Graham would preach would be small and meaningless, heartening to Evangelical Christians but of no consequence to anyone else. Palotay’s ego also entered into the picture. It might not be a glorious tour, but it would be his tour, and he was not anxious to have it taken from his hands. Billy Graham, on the other hand, had no intention of letting his first real foray behind the iron curtain fall flat. “He does not say, ‘I don’t go,’” Haraszti recalled; “but he asked me, ‘Alex, if only two hundred people will be there, I just don’t see how I can do it. What shall I tell people in America?’”

  Working feverishly over an eight-day period in Montreat, Graham, Haraszti, and John Akers, former dean of Montreat-Anderson College, fashioned a several-ends-against-the-middle approach to the problem. Haraszti informed the Hungarian ambassador in Washington of the evangelist’s concern over the modest agenda the Council of Free Churches had set for him. If at all possible, Graham wished to broaden the scope of the visit just a bit; specifically, to include preaching appointments at major Reformed and Catholic churches and a meeting with key leaders of the Jewish faith. Unless such additions could be made, Haraszti told the ambassador, “Dr. Graham will not come.” Graham’s concern, he said, was for Hungary. If Americans read or saw on television that he preached only to small crowds in tiny churches, they would believe that the government prohibited the people from attending. That would be bad propaganda, Haraszti pointed out—“just the opposite of what the government hopes to achieve.” The ambassador, who had come to hope Graham’s visit might produce solutions to some of the key problems he was charged with solving, immediately informed Palotay and Imre Miklos that it would be a serious mistake if Graham’s visit were conducted at a low level. On the heels of this ploy, Graham cabled a message to Miklos. Cooing warm greetings with the innocence of a dove, but making his points with the wisdom of a serpent, Graham asked for more information about his itinerary. Would he be preaching in the Reformed church in Debrecen, the center of Calvinism in eastern Hungary? And were any plans being made for him to preach at the large Roman Catholic cathedral in Pecs, in southern Hungary? And just one other thing: Had any provision been made for him to meet with Hungary’s Jewish leaders?

  Palotay was understandably livid when he learned of the cablegram. He had worked five years to arrange the invitation. Now, what he had regarded as a signal triumph the Foreign Ministry was calling a potential disaster, and Billy Graham was complaining about the itinerary. When Haraszti returned to Hungary in late August with Walter Smyth to make final preparations for Graham’s visit, the Council of Free Churches summoned him to what amounted to a kangaroo court, demanding that he give a full report of his activities following his receipt of the official invitation from Palotay. Haraszti, who relishes a battle of wits, expressed surprise that he was facing an inquiry, when what seemed appropriate was some expression of appreciation. When Palotay pushed him further, Haraszti played his trump. “I am not sure it is proper,” he said, “that I give a report to a lay gathering about the action of Hungary’s official representative to the United States, and also a report about my discussions with the U.S. State Department. Also, I am not sure if it is proper that I divulge here letters of which I am privy through the confidence of Dr. Graham, from the highest-ranking official in the United States to the highest-ranking official of Hungary. But if I am forced, I will do it under protest, but then somebody must be responsible for forcing me to divulge state secrets of both Hungary and the United States.” Haraszti smiled broadly at the memory of the occasion. “State secrets,” he said with a chuckle. “They called off the meeting. This was the end.” Frustrated by Haraszti’s cleverness, Palotay badgered him in private for a few days, but the two men soon reconciled their differences and became a formidable team in presenting Graham’s case in Eastern Europe. “Palotay was in an embarrassing situation,” Haraszti admitted years later, but “[like] something comes up from underwater, he emerged fine and dandy. He was able to make the best out of it. He realized that he could not have done it without Haraszti. At the same time, Haraszti also realized that without Palotay I could not do it. So we had to make peace. Palotay [did] the groundwork for me in Communist countries. He [was] a man of energy and dynamism and contacts, contacts, contacts. He [was] a mediator for me in many, many cases. He did a tremendous pioneer work for me.”

  The tour, though modest when compared to Graham’s standard crusades, was an unqualified success. When he and his team arrived at the Budapest airport, they were met by Palotay, the protocol chief from the Ministry for Chu
rch Affairs, and American ambassador Philip Kaiser, then whisked away to the lovely and secluded Grand Hotel on Margaret Island in the middle of the Danube in downtown Budapest. At his first public appearance, hundreds who had packed into the city’s largest Baptist church heard him acknowledge that the anti-Communist message he had preached was out of date. He had come to Hungary with “an open heart and an open mind,” he declared. “I want to learn about your nation, I want to learn about your churches, I want to learn about your Christian dedication and sense of responsibility within your own social structure. But most of all, I want both of us to learn together from the Word of God.”

  In keeping with his wishes, Graham spoke in Hungary’s largest Reformed church in Debrecen and melted the resistance of both the Reformed and Lutheran bishops. At Pecs, Bishop Czerháti not only welcomed him to the chancery but expressed a hope that he would return someday to preach from the cathedral steps. As requested, he met with Hungary’s key Jewish leaders, who also received him warmly and confirmed their government’s claims that Jews enjoyed impressive religious liberty, marked by the presence in the capital of thirty synagogues, including the largest in the world, and the only Jewish seminary in an Eastern European country. Ambassador Kaiser, himself a Jew, confirmed the accuracy of their account.