The Holy Right Hand

The Shrine of St Oliver Plunkett at St Peter’s Church, Drogheda.

I don’t know why I went to St Stephen’s Basilica to see his Holy Right Hand when St Oliver Plunkett’s head is more dramatic in Drogheda. But, to be fair, something I don’t like, Saint S in Budapest gets a lot more visitors (half price seniors and students) than St O in Drogheda. And, if I may digress, a Brexit plus is the lovely almost black, slighter bigger than EU, passport cover but it does not unlock concessions in the EU. We can talk about the economic minuses and sovereignty pluses another time, maybe.

Shrine to St Stephen, St Stephen’s Basilica, Budapest, November 2025.

When I visit towns/cities in England I expect a bit of Roman remains, a Norman castle/cathedral, some Georgian and Victorian architecture and some lamentable 20th century interventions. In Buda P everything seems to date from around 1900 including St Stephen’s Basilica. You surely know the difference between a basilica and a cathedral?

“A basilica is a church with special papal status, defined by its historical, spiritual, or architectural significance. A cathedral is the principal church of a diocese, and is defined by being the seat of a bishop. Therefore, a church can be a cathedral, a basilica, or both.” (AI)
But we must press on and cross the Danube by the chain bridge to Buda designed by Hammersmith man, William Tierney Clark. I know this bridge and Hammersmith bridge have had structural problems. The latter caused by heavy vehicles, the former by being destroyed in 1945.
Almost at the end of WW II Budapest was under siege. It was the reverse of Stalingrad. The Russians besieged German and Hungarian troops and civilians. It was as awful as Stalingrad with a twist. The patriotic (not), ultra right wing, Arrow Cross Party murdered up to 15,000 Jews and Romani. The Jews were lined up along the Danube and gunned down but first they were stripped of anything of value including their shoes. This is remembered, as Anthony said yesterday, by a sculpture of their shoes along the river bank. It was mobbed by tourists, like me, but they showed no respect or reverence to this memorial and I could not demean its impact by taking a picture. Someone asked me if I am a Jew and at that moment I was. I am not at all like Churchill, I didn’t even go to Harrow, but I do cry easily.

 

One comment

  1. This is so moving Christopher.Thank you.I had no idea about all you have presented here.I am now about to read about John Dobai’s personal history.”Those who had the greatest reason to weep”.Thank you for your history sharing in such a heartfelt & poignant way.Hannah Arendt” We can reach an understanding of the past only if we can tell the events again and again”.The shoes though!

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