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Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Tiananmen Square

By the late 1980's, freedom was emerging after years of oppression by authoritarian despots around the world.

Despite its bluster, the Soviet Union was crumbling, and satellite countries that had been dominated since World War II by the heavy hand of Moscow were rebelling in unique ways.

In Tallinn, Estonia, the Singing Revolution of 1988 turned Soviet tanks away, and within a few years, Estonia became an independent nation with a thriving capitalist democracy.

In 1989, the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia eventually birthed two new free countries, Czech Republic and Slovakia, which is the country from which my son-in-law Laszlo immigrated with his parents in the 1980's, indirectly leading to our star granddaughter Emma.

Even Russia itself embraced greater liberty, although the deep roots of authoritarianism have proven harder to reform, with former KGB and Politburo elites using their influence and raw power to dominate an almost mobster-like crony capitalism that has emerged.  It's nonetheless still probably freer than it was before.

The successors to Mao were taking China in a new direction, with a shift from agriculture to manufacturing as they opened their economy to trade with the free world. Absolute power, however, remained as always in the grip of the Chinese Communist Party.

It has been theorized that the seeds of freedom were spread of rebellious rock n roll music and its American T-shirts and Levis lifestyle that had already changed the Western World.

Looking at how most people dress in Chinese big cities seems to confirm that theory.

As someone who believes words and music have power to change lives, I can appreciate that theory has merit, but others claim just as convincingly that it was strong political leadership by the United States that pried open the doors to freedom.

In my favorite novel of last year, The 14th Colony by Steve Berry, I read for the first time about a very real secret collaboration between President Ronald Reagan and Pope John Paul II, which was one of the factual premises upon which the fast-paced novel rests.  That makes more sense to me, as someone who lived through that era.

While China had been liberalizing their economy, government and education system since US President Nixon metaphorically opened the way for a new Silk Road, it was not enough for large numbers of Chinese students, who like young people everywhere included lots of idealists.

Tens of thousands of idealists began to gather in Tiananmen Square on April 22, following the funeral of popular political leader Hu Yaobang.

After rising to become General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party in 1980, Hu championed greater freedom and democratization.

By January of 1987, hardliners felt the pendulum had swung too far or at least too fast, and they pushed back against Hu's policies to force him from office.  When Hu died of a heart attack on April 15, he became a martyr of sorts for the people who yearned for greater freedom.

The death of Hu prompted fears that the freedom movement would die far short of its goals.

Hours stretched to days, and this spontaneous gathering of mourners in an age before social media became a movement.  Students refused to return to class, and more joined their numbers.

The government published propaganda branding the students as "Counter-Revolutionary," which in Communist China meant essentially everything evil.  This thinned their ranks, as I'm sure worried parents begged their children to come to their senses and not destroy their futures.

Then, a hunger strike was called, something unheard of in a country where only one generation earlier many of the parents or even the siblings of these very same students knew the feeling of empty stomachs due to deprivation caused by Mao's famines.

The hunger strike re-galvanized the movement.  Seeing bright young students voluntarily starving themselves to save their country had a much greater effect in China than it would have in well-fed America.

By May 4, demonstrations had spread to 51 cities, and the multitude of demonstrators at Tiananmen Square had swollen to a quarter of a million people.

On May 15, a previously scheduled state visit by Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev brought journalists of the world to Beijing.

The naturally curious westerners found an even more interesting story in Tiananmen Square, shining the bright light of the world on what the Chinese Communist Party would have preferred kept hidden forever.

Humiliated to lose face in front of the whole world, the CCP knew they must do something.

Martial law was declared on May 19, with military troops sent into Tiananmen Square to "maintain order," but the marchers refused to disband, bringing to mind the 1971 Don McLean lyrics, "The players tried to take the field.  The marching band refused to yield.  Do you recall, what was the deal?  The day the music died."

 By June 3, the number of demonstrators approached a million, and when the military with tanks were sent by the CCP government to disburse the crowd, citizens from the surrounding area joined in the defense of the student demonstrators.

Our guide Yuan was there, not as a demonstrator but observing, concerned for the safety of students he knew.  He said his line of sight was on almost exactly the same line as the western journalist who shot the iconic "tank man" footage.

By the way, I should note that never in our travels did our guide Yuan say anything disparaging about the CCP.  Any negative connotations about anything within this blog are based on my own independent research.




Demonstrators seemed to essentially dare the ironically named People's Liberation Army to shoot, and eventually they did.

The soldiers had their orders, and the "massacre" unfolded over a few days, and not just in the Square.  It was more of a Beijing Massacre, with many killed in streets around Tiananmen Square as they tried to hinder the encroachment by the troops.

Initial government estimates of deaths were "23 counter-revolutionary hooligans" killed by the military, which was revised up gradually to 197 and then over the years to an acknowledged 300.

In a country where all media is controlled by the government, the only "facts" are those established by the government, but estimates by foreign journalists and eye witnesses reach into the thousands.




It was a far cry from what the Ming Dynasty probably imagined would unfold at the place they named "The Gateway to Heavenly Peace."

Constructed in 1415, Tiananmen did indeed serve primarily as the gateway to the Imperial City.

It remains a national symbol of China.

The Square at Tiananmen was designed under the Qing Dynasty in 1651.  It has been enlarged several times, including by Chairman Mao Zedong in 1958-9 who wanted it to be the largest and most spectacular square in the world.

Like Royal Caribbean Cruise ship generations, this square has been surpassed by six larger squares, including China's Xinghai Square that is about four times as large, but Tiananmen Square is still often called "the largest civic gathering place in the world."

While the Chinese Communist Party may wish to erase the Tiananmen Square Event from history, it turned out to be a seminal event in helping create the miracle still unfolding of an impoverished country that has already become the second largest economy in the world.

To avoid continued unrest, the Chinese Communist Party has adopted reforms and economic development patterned to some extent on the United States capitalist model, or at least to embrace a symbiotic relationship with the west, where they feed on our market system to undercut capitalists, even if they must do so at a loss in the near term, in order to create industrial and construction jobs for upwardly mobile Chinese masses who had formerly barely subsisted as share croppers.





Friday, October 20, 2017

Happy People in Nashville

"Research has shown that the best way to be happy is to make each day happy."




When Julie and I arrived in Nashville, our effervescent granddaughter Emma greeted us in the lobby of the airport-close Red Roof Inn.

Emma's daddy Laszlo soon joined us.

At Shoney's diner, we found the daily special was a 70 cent cheese burger to celebrate their 70th Anniversary, and we knew we definitely weren't in California any more.

Son Jay and his girlfriend Sasha arrived on our flight, but they celebrated their October birthdays with a night on the town and a penthouse suite at a downtown hotel.  They wouldn't be joining us until the next afternoon, after Jay concluded meeting with Universal Music's Nashville division, which was his reason for going to Nashville and the genesis of this family reunion.


Emma's mommy Gina, however arrived in the morning.  Gina, Laszlo, Emma, Julie and I drove our Thrifty Rental Car to President Andrew Jackson's estate, where they're currently celebrating his 250th birthday.  That hasn't garnered as much attention as Central Europe's feting of Maria Theresa's 300th birthday, which we had recently experienced on our Danube River cruise.

In order to take time off school, Emma's teacher had been promised Emma would experience some historical places, and the home of Jackson, an outsider President to whom Donald Trump has been compared both favorably and unfavorably by some pundits, made a logical first stop.


I had just finished reading a novel, The Jefferson Code, which included passages about the factual failed assassination attempt on President Jackson as part of a presumably fictional multi-generational conspiracy by pirates, so once again I found that my reality bent to touch on something I had been thinking about.


The second place Laszlo had told Emma's teacher she would visit was the full sized replica of the Parthenon, as it appeared at the time it was completed.

That wasn't a big surprise to my subconscious mind, because another book I had recently read was The Day Democracy Died, a very interesting historical story about the greatest naval victory in the history of Athens which turned to disaster for the generals due to mob mentality.

Emma, however, was most excited about swing benches near the large lake of Millennial Park beside the Parthenon, and she wasn't all that eager to see the gigantic statue of Athena or the museum pieces inside the Parthenon.

You may wonder how a full scale model of the Parthenon came to be built in Nashville, of all places.

Millennial Park had been completed in 1897, to celebrate 100 years of Tennessee statehood, and as with other turn of the century era celebrations, Nashville wanted to not only celebrate modern technologies but to pay homage to history, in this case the most famous structure from the birthplace of democracy, ancient Athens.

Reading that placard brought to mind a similar description of City Park in Budapest, built to celebrate the 1,000 year anniversary of the arrival of Hungary's ancestral Magyar tribes from central Asia, which included monuments to historical architectural styles found throughout Hungary.

As I've mentioned before, our son-in-law Laszlo's family immigrated from Slovakia, which historically was part of greater Hungary.

That type of serendipity seems to constantly unfold or me, beginning first thing in the morning when I do my crossword puzzle and find clues that reference something I had discussed or heard recently.

And it doesn't apply exclusively to trivia.

If we think about happiness, that is what we find at every turn, and I'm happy to say all my children have tied into life streams of positive synchronicity, too.


After taking time to find some fun in the beautiful park surrounding the Parthenon and touring that impressive replica, we headed over to the 4 bedroom house on the outskirts of Nashville which we had rented for the next four nights.




Like a song where other instruments gradually enter the arrangement as it moves forward, we were soon joined at the house by Jay and Sasha, and later that night, daughter Amy arrived from New York City.

What a wonderful houseful of happiness we had!







Wednesday, September 20, 2017

A Book About Our Danube River Cruise

The first time I can remember writing a history report was for Mr. Cole's class, when Mike Rood, Chris Crabtree, Michelle Gallahair and I were among 15 fourth graders in an advanced combination class with the same number of fifth graders.

I would sit down at the kitchen table with Mom and a stack of encyclopedias on Thursday evening so I'd have my error-free, ink-written two pages ready to turn in the next morning.

Many was the time I started writing a sentence two thirds of the way down the page only to realize I had started the wrong word, which forced me to be resourceful and find another word in the dictionary that started with the same letters or restructure the sentence. Often, it involved restructuring the sentence to use the new word.

Yes, I could have just started the page over, but that sounds a lot easier in this word processing age when to rewrite means a couple of quick keyboard strokes followed by hitting print.  Handwriting neatly in ink without corrections was for many in my generation the hardest part of a report.

Admittedly, the first few reports were more Mom reading the books aloud and then telling me what to write, but she gradually left me more and more time and space to figure it out on my own.

While neither of my parents went to an academic-type university (though my dad did graduate from barber and beauty schools), they were both very intelligent and life-long learners who could hold their own in any conversation.

Education for their children was always a top priority, so they bought the prestigious World Book Encyclopedia as well as several grocery store encyclopedia sets to have in our home, which was definitely a huge advantage at the time.  Looking back, I can't help but wish I had been a more dedicated student to honor their faith in me, but I've enjoyed such a wonderful life, I honestly can't say it could have turned out any better if I had tried.

These days, of course, we all have access to the internet, where the problem is not finding information but sifting what is true from what google engineers have programmed to be the most popular answers based on their personal biases or black-ops advertising.

Mom and Dad also helped my sister and me sort through that type of misinformation (albeit in different forms) by teaching us how to learn through their examples.

At the time I was writing those papers for the affable Mr. Cole and the next year for the tough-minded Mrs. Burroughs, I never thought I would voluntarily take time away from watching TV or playing sports to write those reports.

And yet, when I go on vacation, even after I tell myself that I will not get carried away with history as I did before our recent Danube River Cruise, I find myself returning home to research more about what I learned along the way.

This time, I felt compelled to write what turned out to be a multi-article report about Maria Theresa and the Habsburgs, but herein I have broken those episodes out as an overview of the region in this 300th Anniversary Year of Empress Maria Theresa.  It should be noted that many of the pictures and some other information about our trip are only found in those posts.







Why should you cruise on AmaWaterways?

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Chilling in Bratislava, Slovakia


While we love the included excursions on river cruises, sometimes we're ready to simply relax at a sidewalk cafe in a foreign land to chill.

Bratislava proved to be a wonderful place for that.


After our tour, we found an outdoor festival in full swing at the main plaza on our way to the ship.

Slovakian (historically Hungarian) dancers wearing clothes very much like what you'd expect at Oktoberfest performed on stage to happy regional folk music.

We watched until the end of their show, and then meandered down the street to our river cruise ship for a delicious lunch.

Perhaps we should eat more food in international cities we visit, but it's hard to pass on a free meal when it is so convenient, tasty and prepared with fresh, local ingredients.

After lunch, however, we found seats at a sidewalk cafe for drinks near the plaza stage, where the music had changed to great rock with a Slovakian accent.

As we relaxed enjoying the day, my mind couldn't help wandering to our son-in-law and his family, who immigrated from Slovakia a few years before the Iron Curtain lifted.

Laszlo was born in Nitra, one of the oldest cities in Slovakia.

Located about an hour west of Bratislava along the Nitra River, which flows south into the Danube, the city of Nitra has a castle and other historic sites that would be worthwhile for travelers to check out, but back in the early 1980s, times were tough for the family under Communist rule.

Intelligent and well-educated, Szilard and Ria envisioned a better life for their children, where they could grow up to be whatever they wanted instead of what the state dictated they had to be.

Szilard, who is known to friends as Z, made the bold decision to escape.

Consider that during the Reign of Terror, Marie Antoinette and the French royal family were put essentially under house arrest from which they plotted an escape to Austria.  Advised to travel separately to avoid detection, the Queen refused to be separated from her family. Despite having unlimited funds and powerful allies (her brother was the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire), when they made their break, they were caught and soon imprisoned awaiting an even worse fate for daring to flee.

The Communists took escaping to the West no less seriously, though admittedly without a guillotine waiting.

Retribution would be severe if they were caught.

Z calculated that bringing his wife, a toddler and a baby with him would have been quite impossible, so he planned how he might just be able to get out from behind the Iron Curtain on his own.

Athletic young man, not in the style of a beefy football player who might try to bull his way out but rather with the physique of an agile tumbler or track star, Z successfully made the break.

Ria stayed behind raising her two very young children under even more trying conditions, hoping for a miracle.

Against all odds, Z made his way across borders in an era when such travel was strictly forbidden, eventually making it to an Italian refugee camp.

During his year stuck behind the chain link fence, enduring the pain of missing his family as well as the stoic existence of confinement, the affable Z befriended other refugees, including one who made it to the United States and sponsored Z.

After crossing the ocean, it took years of struggle in his new country, but Z finally saved enough money to bring his family to join him.  There was also a ton of paperwork that had to be submitted to bureaucracies in both countries, but perseverance paid off in 1986, when his family was finally able to join Z in the USA.

As it turned out, the Soviet Union crumbled three years later, but by that time they had settled into their new American life.

The family thoroughly assimilated into the United States.  Having learned some English from flash cards before immigrating, they soon mastered the language. Laszlo, Junior, Z and Ria now speak English as well as or better than most native Americans.  In fact, while English may be their second language, Z and Ria win almost every game of Scrabble they play when competing against lifelong English-speakers with extensive vocabularies.

They are living the American dream, where their children have been given the opportunity to live a life better than their own.  Ria spent several years caring for Emma to allow Gina and Laszlo to establish their challenging careers.  Ria is also a fine artist and has helped Emma develop her own artistic talent.

Our son-in-law Laszlo graduated from UCLA with a Bachelor of Science in Psychobiology and went on to earn a Masters Degree in Education.

Because he has a strong interest in computers too, he has also studied advanced programs for computer networking and now works in both education and computers.

His brother Junior went into high tech.

I'm proud to have these wonderful people who adopted our country as the other side of the family tree for our granddaughter Emma.

Soviet-Era facade on left next to historic building on right


Wednesday, August 16, 2017

St Martin's Cathedral in Bratislava and a Brief History of Slovakia

Bratislava is less than 125 miles from Budapest.

Vienna is just 37 miles away from Bratislava, making them the geographically-closest capital cities of any two nations in the world.

Overshadowed by world-renowned Vienna and Budapest which came before and after Bratislava on our Danube River cruise, the vibrant capital of Slovakia is approached by many guests with few preconceptions and possibly as an after-thought.

Coronation of Maria Theresa, 1741, Pressburg by Johann Daniel Herz
One reason you may not have heard of Bratislava is that until 1919, it was known by the Germanic name Pressburg.

During the Ottoman occupation of Central Hungary, Pressburg became the de facto capital of Royal Hungary as well as its coronation site.

The ceremony held here for Maria Theresa included her well-rehearsed horsemanship that revealed her deep respect for the equestrian traditions of the Magyar people that in turn indirectly resulted in 60,000 Hungarian troops heroically riding to the rescue of her royal claims.

Beautiful St. Martin's Cathedral served as the coronation church for Maria Theresa and 18 other Kings, Queens and Consorts between 1563 and 1830, beginning with Maximillian II and ending with Ferdinand V.

Julie and I had taken AmaCerto's Active Walker Bratislava Castle Hike Tour, which did not include St. Martin's, but fortunately Julie had written this historic site into the "Itinerary Guide" furnished by AmaWaterways as a must-see.

The stained glass is exceptional, but it was the statue of St. Martin by Georg Rafael Donner completed in 1744 that most grabbed my attention.

It's supposed to represent St. Martin sharing a coat with the poor, but to me it looks very much like an Ottoman Turk revealing a scimitar from behind a cloak intent on slashing a defenseless man.

A Google search shows several takes through history of the exact same subject with similar representations of this fourth century Hungarian Saint as a man on horseback brandishing a sword of some sort and sharing a coat.

To me, most of this art seems to represent a hidden danger behind the cloak of charity.

St. Martin's father was an officer in the Imperial Horse Guard of the Roman army.

As a young man, Martin himself was in the cavalry, so perhaps this is just showing he was a horseman who had served in the military as his father had.

In a History and Appreciation of Art at Golden West College, however, I learned that sometimes artists make political statements that could not be safely voiced in a more direct manner, so I always wonder about the motivation of artistic choices.

Artists often adapt subjects to conform with the cultural norms within their own homelands and eras to make them more relatable to their audiences

So was this some kind of political statement with the fez and scimitar, or does it say more about how I personally perceive the current influx of Islamic refugees who seem to have no interest in assimilating?

Art is always subject to interpretation, just like politics, but political statements are more likely to be quite direct.

I should note that our Hiking Tour brought us past several interesting sculptures, often revealing Slovak good humor.  On the weekend day of our visit, so many tourists pushed to have their photos taken with them that it seemed silly to jockey for position, especially when photos are available on line.

In stark contrast, we had remarkable St. Martin's Cathedral and its beautiful art essentially to ourselves.

Getting back to an earlier point about historical perspective, knowing this city was once Pressburg, you may wonder why the name changed.

As World War I concluded, the new country of Czechoslovakia earned freedom from the talons of the Habsburgs.

No longer dominated by Austria, the new country chose to change the city's Germanic name of Pressburg to the Slovak name Bratislava.

Under the leadership of intellectual idealist Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk, a parliamentary democracy emerged with great promise, combining Slavic peoples with slightly different languages and complementary economic strengths into a new country, but it would not have been possible without support of the Allies who defeated Austro-Hungary and Germany.


The Czech part of Czechoslovakia was an industrial powerhouse, while Slovakia was primarily agricultural.

From the outset, some Slovaks felt somewhat under the thumb of Czech leaders, but the alliance generally worked.

Almost exactly two decades after the founding of this peaceful democratic republic, Nazi Germany annexed the Sudetenland, the primarily German-speaking border areas of Czechoslovakia which Hitler considered a natural part of his country.

Not incidentally, this happened to be a heavily industrialized part of Czechoslovakia, which would subsequently feed the insatiable Nazi Blitzkrieg machine.

It also contained Czechoslovakia's border defenses, damning the fledgling country to inevitable conquest by Germany.

Under the Munich Agreement signed at the end of September, 1938, Great Britain's Neville Chamberlain infamously declared they had achieved "peace for our time."

Not quite.

As has been the case repeatedly throughout history, appeasement of evil failed.

Hitler immediately began making plans to crush Czechoslovakia.

The agreement between Germany, Great Britain, France and Italy became known as the Munich Betrayal to those whose fate was decided without their input.

On March 15, 1939, Hitler's Nazi forces conquered the Czech region.

Meanwhile, after years pushing for independence for Slovakia from perceived Czech domination, Joseph Tiso and his Slovak People's Party met with Hitler and struck a deal for an independent Slovak State.

Tiso's deal with the devil brought his "independent" country into Hitler's evil Axis, and there would be a heavy price to pay for this sin.

Unlike the Czecholovak Legion that fought on the side of Russia against their own country, Austro-Hungary, in World War I, the Slovak Army fought against their Slavic brothers in the Soviet Union in WWII.

No political movement is monolithic, as we might like to imagine.

Far less than all Slovakians supported their country's alignment with Nazi Germany, and an uprising by the Slovak resistance in 1944 continued clandestinely through the end of the war.

The "liberation" of Czechoslovakia by the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics led to Russian communist domination for the next 44 years.

The heavy hand behind the Iron Curtain attempted to crush all dreams from that initial bold, successful experiment with democracy between WWI and WWII for this region that had previously been ruled by royal monarchies for centuries.

However, a spark of freedom ignited.

In the last two months of 1989, emboldened by the words of American President Ronald Reagan and Pope John Paul II, Czechoslovakia threw off the confining shackles of communist Russian rule with the non-violent Velvet Revolution, which had morphed from a communist-sanctioned memorial for a martyr killed by Nazis.

Happy to be free from decades of one-party Communist rule, they were nonetheless unable to reach suitable terms for reestablishing that pre-war union of Czechs and Slovaks.

Slovakia and the Czech Republic amicably decided to go their own ways, and on January 1, 1993, the independent Slovak Republic, more commonly known as Slovakia, was born.

Slovakia has embraced American traditions of capitalism, freedoms as found in our Bill of Rights, and democratic governance.

As a result of this mindset combined with their intelligent, highly educated workforce, Slovakia has made itself an advanced economy with one of the highest standards of living in the world.

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