January 10, 2005

Attila, 'Scourge of God', Offered Puny, Half-Assed Tribute

I make it a policy never to criticize a grand and arduous endeavor just because it is a bit far-fetched, impracticable or even totally pointless and harebrained. After all, most of the greatest achievements in human history, from the building of the pyramids to Alexander's conquest of the known world to the voyage of the Apollo astronauts to the moon, have been dicey propositions. But if you are going to do something monumental and half-crazy, at least have the good sense not to make it puny and half-assed.

Unfortunately, the puny and half-assed approach seems to be the line of attack being followed by the otherwise heroically goofball collection of countryside folk planning a monument to Attila the Hun, the pelted savage from somewhere out east who, along with his ferocious minions, laid waste to fifth-century Europe. Even worse, the Attila tribute seems to be an allegory for the ills of Hungary's tourism industry.

If you hadn't heard, the memorial is to take the form of a re-creation of the wooden castle the great warrior-king allegedly built in the north-central town of Tápiószentmárton. The hope is that the castle will draw tourists to the area, which otherwise doesn't seem to have a lot to offer other than a standard-issue equestrian center and some supposedly therapeutic radiation. "Tourists come here if they are lost," is how János Kocsi, the proprietor of the horseback riding park rather indelicately described Tápiószentmárton, according to a recent article in news portal Index.hu.

If this sounds at all straightforward, rest assured that it isn't. For one thing, opinion is divided over whether Attila had a palace in Tápiószentmárton. While a "golden deer" relic believed to be from the same period as Attila's conquest was discovered nearby, and the boosters of the project are sure that Tápiószentmárton's "Attila Domb" (Attila hill) is the spot, others are unconvinced. One prominent archeologist was quoted by daily Népszava arguing that supporters of the proposed palace are relying on the rather vague journals of a Byzantine envoy named Priszkosz. In fact, some nearby villages are claiming that they too were once the site of the great Hunnish king's stronghold. Meanwhile, even if Attila's palace had been in or near Tápiószentmárton, there is little if any historical information about what it might have looked like. They didn't have Elle Décor back in the fifth century.

Happily, the men leading the charge to build the palace are undaunted by these and other unknowns. For his part, Kocsi doesn't even challenge the assertions of competing villages, instead cheerfully conceding that it doesn't matter how many fortresses the great Hunnish king may have had. "Why not?" Index.hu quoted him as responding to the other villages' claims. "He was very rich, and could have had many palaces. I have several houses myself."

Likewise, the Tápiószentmárton partisans have lost little sleep over the question of what Attila's digs actually looked like, instead arranging for a design competition to pick the best blind reproduction of a 1,500 year-old palace with its own hotel, pool and conference center. Among the blueprints submitted was a spectacular offering by famed architect Imre Makovecz (below), a sinister and groovy deal that looks like something from the sketchbook for the set design of a grade B time-travel sci-fi flick. In other words, so far, so good.

Like so many worthy crackpot ideas in Hungary, however, the plan to recreate Attila's palace appears destined to be a letdown.

Because the proponents of the palace are thinking in terms of the traditional hotel/conference center approach, they know they can't expect to actually draw that many tourists. Therefore, the project's theoretical budget (the funds haven't yet been raised) isn't big enough to support Makovecz's design, which would apparently cost something between Ft 1.1 billion and Ft 1.5 billion (€4-6 million). So they have instead picked a much less ambitious design.

If you've spent any time on the domestic tourist trail in Hungary, you can easily imagine what a built-on-the-cheap "Attila Palace Hotel and Conference Center Resort" will look like in five or so years' time: run-down, played-out and empty, save for a few bored kids wondering why their parents dragged them to such a dumb place, or some bored conference-goers wondering why their employers dragged them to such a dumb place. Meanwhile, given the involvement of the local mayor in the project, it's hard to believe it will be financed purely with private money, meaning that this depressing failed fantasy will be at least partly built on the backs of Hungary's already downtrodden taxpayers. Hardly a fitting tribute for a man who conquered the known world with such single-minded determination and ferocity that he came to be known as the "Scourge of God." And hardly a model for Hungary's ailing tourism sector, which outside of Budapest is in near-crisis.

So what do I suggest be done in Tápiószentmárton?

First of all, drop all mention of "conference center" and "wellness" from the project. Hungary is awash in conference centers and spas, and it's hard to think of anything more anti-Attila than a bunch of fat, middle-aged white people in ill-fitting suits staring at the ceiling trying not to fall asleep. Except, that is, for a bunch of fat elderly white people lolling around in dirty water in the hopes that it is good for their bowels or carbuncles.

Second, instead of trying to build an astounding citadel/palace for slightly more than what the average American "McMansion" costs - my own cousin just built a vacation house for about half of what the current Attila palace is likely to run - send Makovecz back to the drawing board with instructions to double or triple the size and effect of the thing.

Third, and most important, give people a compelling reason to come. And why else would someone come to a place called "Attila the Hun's Palace" other than to experience some sort of up-to-date take on good old-fashioned, damn-your-feeble-gods barbarian fun? So let's see daily reenactments of the ferocious horse battles that signaled Rome's demise or, for that matter, any other historical spectacles there seems to be a demand for, from gladiator fights to jousting to witch-burnings. Offer classes on anti-personnel archery techniques and advanced siege engine construction, and, come winter, get the manufacturers of video games to sponsor tournaments with the world's best virtual warriors. Break the world record for the most number of oxen cornered, killed, roast and eaten by people wearing historical costume. Staff the place with some of the 2,000 people whose signatures are on the petition that last week was delivered to parliament seeking recognition of the "Huns" as an official kisebbség (minority). (Yes, this really happened, even though most historians believe the "Hun" in "Hungarian" is the result of an early misunderstanding between Germans and Magyars.) Set aside €250,000 to cover legal liabilities from the first spectacular accident involving multiple staff or guest fatalities, and another €250,000 to publicize the calamity, because - hey - there's no such thing as bad publicity, as long as they spell "Attila" right.

Okay, so maybe my fantasy of "Attilaland" or "Barbarian World," which more or less conforms to the above picture, is mad. But it no less foolish than to the current ideas being floated in Tápiószentmárton, and the general mindset of the country's larger tourism industry. In recent years, Hungary has done relatively well as a provider of low-cost, low-expectation vacations to working-class Europeans, mostly from Germany. But it can no longer bank on this business, especially if the forint remains strong, and the German working class out of work. Instead, what Hungary needs are professionally-run, inventive attractions that draw people from farther a field, and give the people they attract an experience that exceeds their expectations.

Either way, our tourism legions need to stop acting like the Romans circa 440 A.D., blithely hoping that the old and decrepit order will somehow rise again, and start thinking like Attila, who overwhelmed his opponents with entirely new plans of attack and conquest, plundering and extorting his way to immortality. Well, except for the plunder and extortion, areas in which many of our tourism professionals have unfortunately long been considered champions.