Bad leadership during the past years has cast on our Party the

Hear, O seekers of truth, the stern words of János Kádár, who once bore the heavy weight of Hungary’s destiny: “Bad leadership during the past years has cast on our Party the shadow of great and grave burdens.” This utterance rises from the ashes of turmoil, from the struggles of a people who had seen the folly of misrule and felt its weight upon their backs. It is a warning, a confession, and a teaching: that when leadership falters, when its roots are poisoned by corruption, arrogance, or blindness, the entire body of a nation suffers under its shadow.

What is bad leadership? It is leadership that serves itself rather than its people, that seeks power instead of truth, and that clings to ideology while ignoring the cry of the human heart. Bad leadership is indecision in the hour of trial, cruelty in the face of weakness, and blindness when vision is needed most. It does not merely weaken a people—it burdens them, casting long shadows that stretch into the future, staining the lives of generations yet unborn. For every failure of leadership is multiplied, echoing down through the struggles of those who must carry its consequences.

And what are these burdens? They are hunger in the belly of the poor, despair in the heart of the worker, distrust in the minds of citizens, and the slow corrosion of unity. Bad leadership burdens a people with wasted years, with lost opportunities, with wounds that take decades to heal. It burdens them with cynicism, making them doubt the possibility of truth or justice. Worse still, it plants division, setting brother against brother, and turning the strength of a people inward upon itself until only weakness remains.

Consider the tale of Rome, once the greatest empire under the sun. In its youth, strong leadership built aqueducts, laws, and armies that stood unconquered. But as time passed, bad leadership corrupted its core—emperors who cared more for pleasure than duty, rulers who spent the people’s treasure on vanity, leaders who ignored the needs of the provinces. Rome was not destroyed by external enemies alone; it was undone by the burdens of bad leadership. Its people bore the shadow of this misrule until the empire itself fell into ruin.

So too in more recent times did nations suffer. In the Second World War, France fell not only to German arms but to years of indecision, corruption, and division among its leaders. The French people bore the burden of betrayal and humiliation, not because they lacked courage, but because their leaders had failed to guide them with strength and clarity. Thus Kádár’s words find resonance: bad leadership creates burdens too heavy for even the bravest people to carry without collapse.

The meaning of Kádár’s lament is clear: the sins of leaders do not remain their own, but become the sufferings of their people. Leadership is not a private crown, but a sacred trust. When it is betrayed, the betrayal is felt by millions. And though the leader may fall, the shadow of his failure lingers long, casting sorrow and hardship over those who had no choice but to follow.

The lesson, O listeners, is this: guard the quality of leadership with vigilance. Choose leaders not for their words alone, but for their character, their vision, their humility, and their devotion to the common good. And if you lead, beware lest pride, greed, or blindness turn your path into one of ruin. Remember always that your actions will either lighten or burden the lives of those who depend on you.

Therefore, practice this: in your life, whether you govern many or few, let your leadership be guided by service, truth, and accountability. Ask yourself daily: Am I lifting burdens, or casting shadows? For as Kádár has warned, bad leadership brings grave burdens—but wise and selfless leadership becomes the light that lifts those burdens away, and allows a people to walk once more in strength and hope.