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Frontier Centre for Public Policy

Hungarian Revolution of 1956: A Valiant Effort to Overthrow Communist Rule

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Civilians wave Hungary’s national flag from a captured Soviet tank in Budapest’s main square during the anti-communist uprising of October 1956. AP Photo

From the Frontier Centre for Public Policy

By Gerry Bowler

For a time, Moscow seemed willing to accept change in Hungary, but when Nagy announced that his country would leave the Warsaw Pact and become neutral in the Cold War, that was a bridge too far for Khrushchev.

After World War II ended in the summer of 1945, the Soviet Red Army found itself to be in possession of Eastern Europe. In the next few years, the USSR extinguished the young democracies in Poland, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia, while imposing Stalinist governments on autocracies such as Bulgaria and Hungary. With Marxist regimes taking over in eastern Germany, and Albania and Yugoslavia as well, Winston Churchill spoke truly when he said that “from Stettin the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic, an iron curtain has descended across the continent.”

In many of these countries, there was considerable resentment over the Russian occupation. In the Baltic republics, Romania, Croatia, Belarus, Poland, and Ukraine, doomed anti-Soviet guerilla movements with names like the “Forest Brothers,” the “Cursed Soldiers,” or “Crusaders,” fought underground wars that\ lasted for years. In June 1953 in East Berlin, workers rose up in protests against their communist masters, sparking a short-lived rebellion that spread to hundreds of towns before being crushed by Russian tanks. The most serious of these insurrections was the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. By 1956, there were stirrings of discontent in the Hungarian People’s Republic. Under the state control of industry, forced agricultural collectivization, and the shipping of produce to the Soviet Union, the economy was in bad shape. The supply of consumer goods was low and standards of living were dropping. Secret police surveillance of the population was harsh, while many Hungarians resented the suppression of religion and the mandatory instruction of the Russian language in schools. As news leaked out about Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev’s denunciation of Stalin in the so-called “Secret Speech,” hopes grew that reform of the communist system was possible.

Marxist intellectuals began to form study circles to discuss a new path for Hungarian socialism, but their cautious proposals were suddenly overtaken by demands for change by young people. On Oct. 22, 1956, students at the Technical University of Budapest drew up a list of demands for change  known as the “Sixteen Points.” They included free elections, a withdrawal of Soviet troops, free speech, and an improvement in economic conditions.

On the afternoon of the next day, these points were read out to a crowd of 20,000 who had gathered at the statue of a leader of the Hungarian rebellion of 1848. By 6 p.m., when the students marched on the Parliament Building, the crowd had grown to around 200,000 people. This alarmed the government, and later that evening Communist Party leader Erno Gero took to the radio to condemn the Sixteen Points. In reaction, mobs tore down an enormous statue of Stalin.

People surround the decapitated head of a huge statue of Josef Stalin in Budapest during the Hungarian Revolution in 1956. Daniel Sego (second L), who cut off the head, is spitting on the statue. Hulton Archive/Getty Images

On the night of Oct. 23, crowds gathered outside the state broadcaster, Radio Budapest, to demand that the Sixteen Points be sent out over the air. The secret police fired on the protesters, killing a number of them. This enraged the demonstrators who set fire to police cars and seized arms from military depots. Army units ordered to support the secret police rebelled and joined the protest. The government floundered; on the one hand, they called Soviet tanks into Budapest; on the other hand, they appointed Imre Nagy, seen as a popular reformer, as prime minister.

As barricades were being erected by protesters and shots were being exchanged with secret police units, Nagy was negotiating with the Soviets who agreed that they would withdraw their tanks from the capital. Over the next few days, the rebellion spread; factories were seized, Communist Party newspapers and headquarters were attacked, and known communists and secret police agents were murdered. The new prime minister released political prisoners and promised the establishment of democracy, with freedom of speech and religion.

For a time, Moscow seemed willing to accept change in Hungary, but when Nagy announced that his country would leave the Warsaw Pact and become neutral in the Cold War, that was a bridge too far for Khrushchev. Fearing the collapse of the entire Soviet bloc, he made plans for an invasion of Hungary. By Nov. 3, the Red Army had surrounded Budapest, and the next day heavy fighting erupted as armoured columns entered the city. Some units of the Hungarian army fought back, joined by thousands of civilians, but the end was predictable. After a week of battles, with over 20,000 dead and wounded, resistance crumbled. A new Soviet-approved government under János Kádár purged the army and Communist Party, arrested thousands, and executed rebel leaders including Nagy.

Hundreds of thousands of refugees fled, many of them settling in Canada and the United States. World condemnation of the USSR was strong; critics of the Soviets included many communists in the West who resigned their party membership. Not until the collapse of the Soviet hold on Eastern Europe in 1989 did Hungarians get another taste of freedom.

Published in the Epoch Times.

Gerry Bowler, historian, is a Senior Fellow at the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.

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Frontier Centre for Public Policy

Trust but verify: Why COVID-19 And Kamloops Claims Demand Scientific Scrutiny

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From the Frontier Centre for Public Policy

By Rodney Clifton

Senior Fellow Rodney Clifton calls for renewed scientific scrutiny of two major Canadian narratives: COVID-19 policies and the Kamloops residential school claims. He argues that both bypassed rigorous, evidence-based evaluation, favouring politicized consensus. Critics of pandemic measures, like Dr. Jay Bhattacharya, were wrongly dismissed despite valid concerns. Similarly, the unverified mass grave claims in Kamloops were accepted without forensic proof. Clifton urges a return to the scientific principle of “trust but verify” to safeguard truth, public policy, and democracy.

COVID-19 and Kamloops claims dodged scrutiny – but the truth is catching up

Do we know the best way to decide if specific empirical claims are true?

Of course we do. The best way is by using the procedures of science.

Scientists critically examine the arguments and evidence in research studies to find weaknesses and fallacies. If there are no weaknesses or fallacies, the evidence enters the realm of science. But if there are weaknesses, the research has low or zero credibility, and the evidence does not become a building block of science.

In a historical context, seemingly good evidence may not remain as science because claims are continually evaluated by researchers. This scientific process is not failsafe, but it is far better than other procedures for determining the truth of empirical claims.

This powerful principle is often called “trust but verify,” and it is the idea behind the replication of scientific results.

Today, many such truth claims demand critical examination. At least two come readily to mind.

The first is the claim that the COVID-19 procedures and vaccines were safe and effective.

It is now abundantly clear that the procedures used during the COVID-19 pandemic bypassed time tested scientific protocols. Instead of open scientific debate and rigorous testing, government appointed “scientists” endorsed government-approved narratives. Canadians were told to social distance, wear masks and, most importantly, get vaccinated—often without transparent discussion of the evidence or risks.

Those who questioned the procedures, vaccines or official explanations were dismissed as “deniers” and, in some cases, ridiculed. Perhaps the most notable example is Dr. Jay Bhattacharya, the Stanford epidemiologist and economist who co-authored the Great Barrington Declaration. Despite being vilified during the pandemic, Dr. Bhattacharya is now the head of the U.S. National Institute of Health.

Five years after the pandemic began, it is clear that Dr. Bhattacharya—and many other so-called deniers—were raising legitimate concerns. Contrary to the portrayal of these scientists as conspiracy theorists or extremists, they were doing exactly what good scientists should do: trusting but verifying empirical claims. Their skepticism was warranted, particularly regarding both the severity of the virus and the safety and effectiveness of the vaccines.

The second claim concerns the allegation that Indigenous children died or were murdered and buried in unmarked graves at the Kamloops Residential School.

In 2021, the Kamloops Indigenous Band claimed that 215 children’s bodies had been discovered in the schoolyard. The legacy media swiftly labelled anyone who questioned the claim as a “denier.” Despite millions of dollars allocated for excavations, no bodies have been exhumed. Meanwhile, other bands have made similar claims, likely encouraged by federal government incentives tied to funding.

To date, this claim has not faced normal scientific scrutiny. The debate remains lopsided, with one side citing the memories of unnamed elders—referred to as “knowledge-keepers”—while the other side calls for forensic evidence before accepting the claim.

The allegation of mass graves was not only embraced by the media but also by Parliament. Members of the House of Commons passed a motion by NDP MP Leah Gazan declaring that Indigenous children were subjected to genocide in residential schools. Disturbingly, this motion passed without any demand for forensic or corroborating evidence.

Truth claims must always be open to scrutiny. Those who challenge prevailing narratives should not be disparaged but rather respected, even if they are later proven wrong, because they are upholding the essential principle of science. It is time to reaffirm the vital importance of verifying evidence to resolve empirical questions.

We still need a robust debate about COVID-19 procedures, the virus itself, the vaccines and the claims of mass graves at residential schools. More broadly, we need open, evidence-based debates on many pressing empirical claims. Preserving our democracy and creating sound public policy depend on it because verifiable evidence is the cornerstone of decision-making that serves all Canadians.

Rodney A. Clifton is a professor emeritus at the University of Manitoba and a senior fellow at the Frontier Centre for Public Policy. Along with Mark DeWolf, he is the editor of From Truth Comes Reconciliation: An Assessment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission Report, which can be ordered from Amazon.ca or the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.

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TD Bank Account Closures Expose Chinese Hybrid Warfare Threat

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From the Frontier Centre for Public Policy

By Scott McGregor

Scott McGregor warns that Chinese hybrid warfare is no longer hypothetical—it’s unfolding in Canada now. TD Bank’s closure of CCP-linked accounts highlights the rising infiltration of financial interests. From cyberattacks to guanxi-driven influence, Canada’s institutions face a systemic threat. As banks sound the alarm, Ottawa dithers. McGregor calls for urgent, whole-of-society action before foreign interference further erodes our sovereignty.

Chinese hybrid warfare isn’t coming. It’s here. And Canada’s response has been dangerously complacent

The recent revelation by The Globe and Mail that TD Bank has closed accounts linked to pro-China groups—including those associated with former Liberal MP Han Dong—should not be dismissed as routine risk management. Rather, it is a visible sign of a much deeper and more insidious campaign: a hybrid war being waged by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) across Canada’s political, economic and digital spheres.

TD Bank’s move—reportedly driven by “reputational risk” and concerns over foreign interference—marks a rare, public signal from the private sector. Politically exposed persons (PEPs), a term used in banking and intelligence circles to denote individuals vulnerable to corruption or manipulation, were reportedly among those flagged. When a leading Canadian bank takes action while the government remains hesitant, it suggests the threat is no longer theoretical. It is here.

Hybrid warfare refers to the use of non-military tools—such as cyberattacks, financial manipulation, political influence and disinformation—to erode a nation’s sovereignty and resilience from within. In The Mosaic Effect: How the Chinese Communist Party Started a Hybrid War in America’s Backyard, co-authored with Ina Mitchell, we detailed how the CCP has developed a complex and opaque architecture of influence within Canadian institutions. What we’re seeing now is the slow unravelling of that system, one bank record at a time.

Financial manipulation is a key component of this strategy. CCP-linked actors often use opaque payment systems—such as WeChat Pay, UnionPay or cryptocurrency—to move money outside traditional compliance structures. These platforms facilitate the unchecked flow of funds into Canadian sectors like real estate, academia and infrastructure, many of which are tied to national security and economic competitiveness.

Layered into this is China’s corporate-social credit system. While framed as a financial scoring tool, it also functions as a mechanism of political control, compelling Chinese firms and individuals—even abroad—to align with party objectives. In this context, there is no such thing as a genuinely independent Chinese company.

Complementing these structural tools is guanxi—a Chinese system of interpersonal networks and mutual obligations. Though rooted in trust, guanxi can be repurposed to quietly influence decision-makers, bypass oversight and secure insider deals. In the wrong hands, it becomes an informal channel of foreign control.

Meanwhile, Canada continues to face escalating cyberattacks linked to the Chinese state. These operations have targeted government agencies and private firms, stealing sensitive data, compromising infrastructure and undermining public confidence. These are not isolated intrusions—they are part of a broader effort to weaken Canada’s digital, economic and democratic institutions.

The TD Bank decision should be seen as a bellwether. Financial institutions are increasingly on the front lines of this undeclared conflict. Their actions raise an urgent question: if private-sector actors recognize the risk, why hasn’t the federal government acted more decisively?

The issue of Chinese interference has made headlines in recent years, from allegations of election meddling to intimidation of diaspora communities. TD’s decision adds a new financial layer to this growing concern.

Canada cannot afford to respond with fragmented, reactive policies. What’s needed is a whole-of-society response: new legislation to address foreign interference, strengthened compliance frameworks in finance and technology, and a clear-eyed recognition that hybrid warfare is already being waged on Canadian soil.

The CCP’s strategy is long-term, multidimensional and calculated. It blends political leverage, economic subversion, transnational organized crime and cyber operations. Canada must respond with equal sophistication, coordination and resolve.

The mosaic of influence isn’t forming. It’s already here. Recognizing the full picture is no longer optional. Canadians must demand transparency, accountability and action before more of our institutions fall under foreign control.

Scott McGregor is a defence and intelligence veteran, co-author of The Mosaic Effect: How the Chinese Communist Party Started a Hybrid War in America’s Backyard, and the managing partner of Close Hold Intelligence Consulting Ltd. He is a senior security adviser to the Council on Countering Hybrid Warfare and a former intelligence adviser to the RCMP and the B.C. Attorney General. He writes for the Frontier Centre for Public Policy.

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