Interreligious Encounters and Cultural Mediation in the Memoirs of Hungarian Émigré Gedeon Ács: A Turkish-Ottoman Context

Abstract

This study examines the memoirs and reminiscences of Gedeon Ács, a Protestant clergyman and companion of Lajos Kossuth, through the lens of interreligious encounters and cultural mediation. Drawing on Ács’s memoirs and diary entries written during the exile of Governor Kossuth and his followers in Ottoman Turkey after the defeat of the 1848–49 Hungarian Revolution and War of Independence, the study analyzes numerous observations inviting comparison between Ottoman Byzantine-influenced and Central European ecclesiastical, political, and cultural phenomena. Despite the politically and existentially traumatic circumstances of exile, Ács emerges as a strikingly open and reflective observer, explicitly receptive to intercultural dialog and cooperation. This disposition reflects a broader Reformed Protestant intellectual tradition that prizes rationality, measured contemplation, and an outward-looking, communal engagement with the world. Methodologically, the study combines a source-based historical reading with narrative and discourse analysis, situating Ács’s texts within a framework of interconfessional and intercultural experience. Its overarching aim is to demonstrate how Ács’s writings give voice to a moderate, ecumenically oriented Protestant identity forged in the sociopolitical aftermath of 1848–49.

1. Introduction

This study examines how historical, sociopolitical, and confessional contexts shaped the theological thought and cultural identity of the Protestant pastor Gedeon Ács, who began writing his memoirs in the aftermath of the failed Hungarian uprising against the Habsburg Monarchy in 1848–49. Following the defeat, many Hungarian participants in the war were forced to flee their homeland and sought refuge in the Ottoman Empire. Ács himself originated from the southern part of the Hungarian Kingdom, near the Drava River, a region where Hungarian Protestants had long lived in a multiethnic and multi-confessional environment. This background had a significant influence on Ács’s tolerant theological and cultural outlook. He was, moreover, among the many Protestant figures who fought in the 1848–49 struggle for freedom, and the courage and Protestant attitudes he demonstrated during that crisis remained central to his character and writing (T. Ács 1940, p. 3). The paper focuses on Ács’s role in exile, examining writings that illuminate his moderate and open-minded disposition and demonstrate how it helped him and his compatriots preserve their sense of identity in the wake of collective trauma.

Ács entered Ottoman exile carrying with him a form of practical theological thinking grounded in lived religion. His accounts of meeting people across this multiethnic and multi-confessional country reveal a consistently nonjudgmental, descriptive, and respectful approach to cultural and religious difference. Ottoman Turkey welcomed the Hungarian refugees with notable openness: despite their divergent faiths, it offered them shelter and protection for an extended period, prioritizing shared human dignity over confessional or cultural differences. Hungary and the Ottoman Empire share a long history of cultural and religious coexistence, and the southern Hungarian borderlands where Ács was born had been under Turkish rule for 150 years, until the end of the 17th century. Throughout this period, the Drava region maintained its religious and cultural diversity, preserving traditions of coexistence. It was within these layered historical experiences of the borderlands that Ács’s worldview was most fundamentally shaped.

This paper interprets these various forms of cultural and religious encounters at the level of everyday life, attending in particular to the role of mediality and the practical navigation of confessional conflict. Such encounters represented not only an existential survival strategy but a recurring expression of enlightened communal interest with important cultural and social implications for the region. The multi-confessional attitudes of Protestant ecclesiastical figures in the southern and eastern parts of the Hungarian Kingdom were shaped by the religious and cultural diversity of the Ottoman period, itself rooted in medieval precedents. Protestant and Orthodox denominations, alongside relations with non-Christian Islam, gradually evolved toward a coexistence grounded in mutual compromise (Tóth 2020, p. 16). The period-specific identities that emerged from these conditions naturally gave rise to interconfessional and intercultural connections, and it is within this framework that the intellectual work of Gedeon Ács can be meaningfully situated.

The significance of Ács’s work extends beyond the theological into the secular and social spheres, reflecting a Protestant receptivity and openness that operated in the public domain. Moving beyond dogmatic concerns reveals a more practical and moderate intellectual practice that resonates with recent scholarly interest at both micro- and macro-levels, in the personal decisions and self-identifications that take shape within interdenominational contexts (Tóth 2020, p. 20). The examination of memoirs and diary entries, as in the case of Ács’s manuscripts, proves particularly valuable in this approach, offering insight into the dimensions of auto- and inter-confessionality and connecting organically with questions of interdenominational interaction and cultural mediation. Crucially, the tensions arising from cultural and religious differences in these texts do not reinforce a sense of estrangement or divergence; rather, they prompt a search for connection and existential compatibility with community norms and identity. This suggests that, in Ács’s life writing, the lived experience of cultural encounters cannot be separated from inter-confessionality, and the two must be interpreted together within the scope of this study.

Ács’s several-thousand-page manuscripts have not yet appeared in a comprehensive edition; only excerpts have been published across various volumes to date. In the analyses that follow, I draw mostly on the editions that have undergone critical textual editing, in particular the volume by Péter Bogáti and István Zombori. The study also draws on excerpts from Tivadar Ács’s volume, written by a historian of Hungarian emigration and collateral descendant of the pastor, in which the perspective of interdenominational rapprochement and the fostering of dialog is given particular emphasis.

2. Hungarian Calvinism Within Its Sociocultural and Historical Environment

Many Protestant communities historically lived alongside the religious traditions of other nations, most notably Islam and Orthodox Christianity. This cultural heritage often made representatives of these communities more flexible and adaptable in the face of social and cultural change. After the Battle of Mohács (1526), the medieval Kingdom of Hungary was divided into three parts: Royal Hungary, Ottoman Hungary, and Transylvania. Over the following centuries, the Calvinist church in the occupied territories became deeply embedded in Hungarian political and social life, with the most prominent members of the Reformed Church devoting themselves to improving educational and communal standards. The church was also shaped, for historical reasons, by its close contact with Islam in Ottoman-controlled territories and, to a lesser extent, with Orthodox believers. For an extended period, it was sustained by Hungarian noble families, who maintained their faith and preserved their heritage even within a non-Christian environment. As a result, the religious and cultural identities of these regions remained relatively intact throughout Ottoman rule.

After the dissolution of Ottoman power in the 17th century, the Reformed Church gradually established itself in alliance with urban authorities. The Calvinist tradition exerted a significant influence on Hungarian society, promoting social discipline and relying on civil power as a foundation for communal life. According to Graeme Murdock, Calvinists in particular supported civic constitutionalism and occasionally endorsed the right to resist monarchical authority (Murdock 2000, p. 7). Hungarian Calvinists developed ecclesiastical structures governed by presbyteries and the clergy, fostering a democratic spirit while also cultivating a distinctive form of radicalism characterized by discipline and moral steadfastness (ibid., p. 8). Furthermore, Calvinist preachers interpreted the invasions, revolutions, destruction, and exile of the 18th and 19th centuries—and their aftermath—as clear signs of the need for religious and moral reform. They frequently issued warnings about the importance of moral conduct, linking it directly to confessional identity and national consciousness (Murdock 2004, p. 123).

Despite the long tradition of a Catholic majority in Hungary, Calvinism became a national and identity-defining religion: Calvinists in Eastern Europe had lived predominantly in Hungary, and no other confession was as closely tied to Hungarian culture and national identity as the Reformed Church. Over the centuries, Calvinism penetrated every layer of society—from the nobility and clergy to ordinary citizens—though it remained primarily a rural and small-town confession (Szegedi 2019, p. 63). Even in proximity to Islam, it remained relatively intact and influential, and a widely held view emerged that Protestants fared better under Ottoman rule than in Royal Hungary, where Catholicism was dominant. By adapting its theology to local and regional needs, Calvinism proved resilient in this shifting environment and maintained its cultural and political relevance even in the peripheral areas of southern and eastern Central Europe (ibid., p. 72). In the mid-19th century, amid renewed political and social upheaval, Hungary’s struggle for independence from the Habsburg Monarchy gave rise to armed conflict, a period during which Ottoman influence had already receded to the Balkans.

Kossuth, who served as Hungarian governor in 1849 during the uprising against the Habsburg Monarchy, interpreted certain historical and sociopolitical events through biblical analogies, much as many of his Protestant predecessors had done. In his religious rhetoric, characteristic of Protestant reformers, he drew parallels between contemporary Hungarian experience and Jewish history, and from these historical lessons emphasized the necessity of moral renewal and national rebirth. In his public speeches, he grounded the essence of the Protestant spirit in a Providence capable of bringing good out of evil and rooted in compassion (Veritas/Kossuth Lajos Vallásossága n.d., p. 3). At the same time, his image-rich orations addressed a wide range of denominational and religious questions from a consistently rational standpoint. In keeping with the tolerant educational spirit of Protestant thought in his age, Kossuth visited many educational institutions, an exposure that largely shielded him from prejudice. Among his teachers were Roman Catholic monks, whose influence reinforced his commitment to mediating religious differences (Zakar 2003, p. 130).

As a politician of the Reformed Era, Kossuth strove to secure religious freedom and equality alongside the Catholic State Church and sought to strengthen the autonomy of Protestant and Orthodox churches. A firm believer in religious rapprochement, he proposed in the 1840s a Protestant idea of symbolic religious unity transcending denominational boundaries, one to which Catholics also gave their adherence (ibid., p. 138). This personal conviction formed part of a broader political creed aimed at securing, as widely as possible, freedom of religious practice and equality of rights. Characteristically, he extended certain political and social gestures toward Jews and Orthodox believers to strengthen their sense of belonging to a broader community. Although Kossuth was primarily guided by liberal and national political aims, he regarded his fellow deputies as what he called “priests of love,” oriented toward civic progress, who prepared, in the interest of social advancement, a future in which interconfessional cooperation formed an integral part of his and his followers’ shared creed (ibid., p. 141).

This dimension of interconfessional identity became particularly significant among those who joined Kossuth’s movement and embraced the program of national rebirth, including many Protestant believers. A considerable number came from families that had pursued, or prepared for, a clerical career. Among them were figures such as Mihály Tompa—a Calvinist pastor and poet, and a friend of the celebrated poet Sándor Petőfi—as well as Gábor Egressy, who followed the governor, and his chaplain, Gedeon Ács, into exile. It was within this broader sociopolitical and interconfessional context, and the intellectual climate it produced, that Ács’s diary entries took shape.

3. Ács’s Approach to Oriental Customs and Faith

Ács’s memoirs and diary entries—recording his experiences during the years he spent with Kossuth and his companions in the Ottoman Empire—reflect the perspective of a modern, enlightened observer of the world. Ács’s intellectual background closely resembled that of the Calvinist intelligentsia of his time: like many of his contemporaries, he was born into a Hungarian Calvinist pastor’s family, pursued theological studies, and entered the ministry. This path entailed not only an ecclesiastical role but also, in keeping with the social expectations of the time, active engagement in public life. A critical mass of such new intellectuals emerged in this period, forming views from a Protestant perspective and contributing to a renewed public culture. An important aspect of this cultural shift was the application of classical learning and intellectual training to the project of national cultural renewal (Mester 2019, p. 86). Ács himself became a follower of the ideas of Lajos Kossuth, yet his diaries, begun in exile, contain no reflection of his revolutionary activities as chaplain during the War of Independence. On the contrary, he displayed considerable self-control and moderation, and in his outlook, he can be regarded as a representative of modern anthropological and cultural sensibility. It was a remarkable achievement for 1849: in the aftermath of military defeat and the laying down of arms, he produced a balanced and dispassionate memoir from exile.

Ács’s principal ambition was to describe the mentalities and moral dispositions of the country in which he arrived as a political exile. His writings reflected his identity as a respected Protestant preacher, combining the pride of a cleric with the broad erudition and cultural knowledge of a well-informed intellectual, qualities all the more remarkable given that he came from a peripheral border settlement. As such, he found himself an unexpected participant in one of the defining historical events of his era. His cultural and confessional views were consistently shaped by his sensitivity to context and expressed through literary means. His nuanced and precise descriptions align him with those authors who, in both language and perspective, come across as modern and clear-sighted observers, reliant on all their senses and free from prejudice. This adaptability of outlook is demonstrated throughout his journey in the Ottoman Empire, where Ács displayed both admiration and empathy toward a new cultural and confessional environment. He never regarded it with alienation or detachment, but rather as a space in which new experiences could be gained and from which his own culture and religion could be viewed afresh. Such openness proved deeply generative, enriching the religious and folk traditions of his native land and his former home in the Drava region.

Ács had a particular gift for comforting his fellow refugees in an unsentimental way, at times with a touch of humor and self-irony. What might have struck his compatriots as cultural shock and oppression tended instead to amuse him and prompt reflection. Sympathy and empathy served as a kind of protection, easing the hardships and trials that were never in short supply: illness and fatigue frequently made life difficult, first in the internment camp and later during their journey through the Ottoman Empire, as the authorities directed the refugees to various parts of the empire. He accepted the meager contents of his luggage with biblical modesty and Puritan simplicity, quoting the old Latin proverb Omnia mea mecum porto (I carry all my possessions with me)—an ancient wisdom according to which the true treasure of a moral and wise person lies not in material wealth but in cultural cultivation and moral virtue (T. Ács 1940, p. 16). Ács and his old gymnasium friend Károly László—who also belonged to Kossuth’s inner circle and similarly wrote a memoir—looked to a celebrated literary predecessor: the Hungarian writer and princely secretary Kelemen Mikes, who had likewise sought refuge in the Ottoman Empire in the 18th century and who, despite living in poverty throughout his exile, conscientiously kept his own records.

Ács had a deep affinity for Ottoman culture. From an early age, he had collected Turkish proverbs, which helped him understand the morals and ways of thinking of his hosts: “Tégy jót és vesd a tengerbe. Ha nem értik is a halak, megérti Isten.” (Do good and throw it into the sea. If the fish do not understand it, God will). To console himself and his fellow sufferers, “Ki minden fölött sír, hamar elveszti szeme fényét.” (Whoever cries over everything will soon lose the light in his eyes.) (Lábadi 2017, p. 23). He quickly won the Turks‘ respect by acquiring basic Turkish vocabulary, aided by his exceptional aptitude for languages. This affinity was further strengthened by the numerous similarities he discovered between Turkish and Persian on the one hand, and Hungarian on the other, a legacy of the long period of Turkish–Hungarian contact and coexistence, during which Hungarians borrowed many expressions from Turkish. The imperative gel (“come”), for instance, closely resembles its Hungarian counterpart (jer), and many words appear in virtually identical form in both languages: sok/çok (“many”), kilincs/kilit (“handle”). Ács also drew practical lessons from his situation. He concluded that the worst response to hardship was to sit and brood, and the best thing a refugee could do was to walk often, seek out people, and attempt to converse with locals. He admired the eastern merchants, who, like heroes from the tales of the Arabian Nights, moved from city to city and within days set about acquiring something of the local language (T. Ács 1940, p. 16).

Ács, as a man of books, also engages critically with social prejudices and stereotypes characteristic of contemporary travelogs, which frequently portrayed Turkish and Eastern peoples as superstitious and uncivilized. Such 19th century accounts took pleasure in portraying the European traveler as morally and culturally superior and more enlightened—a stance Ács firmly rejects on the basis of his own extensive observations (G. Ács 1989, p. 216). For example, he takes issue with the remarks in the popular English-language travel guide Diary in Turkish and Greek Waters by the Earl of Carlisle, which, invoking European elitism, denigrated Islam on the grounds that it was founded on slavery. Familiar with this text, Ács reflects at length on the cultural and social stereotypes and presuppositions embedded in it, pointing out that the developed West could hardly claim moral superiority on this count—one need only look to the southern states of America. In doing so, he clearly distances himself from the dominant intellectual outlook of his time, which constructed its identity by defining itself against the Orient and its societies (Said 1979, p. 3). Rather than perpetuating broad historical generalizations, he examines the Orient through the lens of local customs and institutions, employing a measured, detailed approach.

He also draws interesting parallels between the Muslim faith and the Christian creed (Zombori 1979, p. 208). He witnesses daily how ordinary people devote immense attention to their guests, showering them with small acts of kindness and hospitality that reveal a profound sense of courtesy and human warmth, far removed from the crude prejudice of some European narratives. Moreover, he frequently observes that their Turkish escorts and officials—those who had worked and been socialized abroad—display fewer signs of hospitality and respect than the local rural population. He adds that the jinn and other supernatural spirits that captivate the minds of European travelers exist far more vividly in their imaginations than in the daily lives of Turks. Even where such beliefs have some foundation among rural dwellers, they are confined primarily to remote areas and remain marginal to everyday social interaction (T. Ács 1940, p. 48). During his travels through the countryside, Ács noticed that settlements, however poor, were situated in remarkably picturesque locations. In his view, the Turks possess an innate aesthetic sensibility, instinctively seeking out the most beautiful spots in nature whenever they wish to rest. Unlike European travelers, they speak little about the beauty of the landscape; instead, they take simple and natural delight in the beauty of the world around them (G. Ács 1989, p. 204).

Ács’s travel diary contributes to a deeper understanding of Oriental culture by remaining largely unencumbered by the assumptions and expectations that characterize much of the European intellectual tradition. He approaches social and cultural life with genuine personal curiosity and minimal bias, arriving at fragmentary but valuable truths that reveal a nuanced picture of Ottoman society and its religious customs. In this regard, he aligns with those intellectuals who genuinely seek to learn from the Orient and Islam, rather than dwelling in doubt or imposing interpretive uniformity. Ács perceptively identifies both subtle similarities and stark differences among various cultural practices, treating the Ottoman Empire as a multifaceted territory in which certain Oriental traits coexist with occasional Western influences. Far from being the ethnocentric or culturally uniform entity that outsiders might imagine, it emerges as a rich tapestry of diversity that Ács approaches with intellectual honesty and rational inquiry.

4. Discursive Analysis and Confessional Positioning of Ács’s Reports on Ecumenism

Ács’s notes record significant episodes from the confessional life of his environment, revealing that the mutual trust he developed with his hosts sometimes took unexpected religious and cultural turns. After a festive ceremony, for example, he reports that a Muslim colonel present at the service felt the preacher’s words so personally directed at him that, after the sermon, he embraced Ács and declared him a true believer. On another occasion, when Ács baptized a child, two high-ranking Turkish officers attended as witnesses, and one of them, evidently moved by the event, signed the baptismal certificate. It was likely on account of this that the authorities appointed him chief priest of emigration, even though an Orthodox bishop and a Catholic priest were also among them (G. Ács 1989, p. 234). He had a keen sense for uniting and addressing people from various denominations. Among his audience—those forced into dispersion—were Calvinists, Lutherans, Orthodox Christians, and Jews, alongside the Catholic majority, and the coercive circumstances of exile meant that all of them frequently participated together in the Lord’s Supper.

Ács notes with interest that confessional minorities also lived in Ottoman Turkey, practicing religions other than Islam. At one point, the refugees’ caravan stopped in a small Bulgarian village, where they were welcomed and given lodging. Their host proved to be an Orthodox priest living in modest circumstances, whose guesthouse also served as a chapel. Ács, who arrived with a companion named Mihál, describes the encounter as follows:

“My venerable colleague received us tolerably well and led us into a side room, which, as we soon learned, served as the temple for the esteemed parish in bad weather, when it would have been difficult to make one’s way to the neighboring monastery (…). Above the furnace-shaped altar, we saw two books, which Mihál examined. And lo and behold, these were the liturgical books of the Serbian church, which Mihál knew well, as he was the caretaker of the Serbian church at home. The priest’s eyes and mouth stood agape in astonishment when he saw Mihál reading and understanding one of the books, and even more so when Mihál began to chant the Gospodin Pomiluj (Lord, have mercy). ‘Oh, you are Christians!’ exclaimed the amazed priest.”1

After this, the Orthodox priest entertained them generously and performed a service in their honor, with members of his large family also participating. The symmetrical interconfessional encounter filled them with a sense of being at home abroad among fellow Christians. This feeling is further reinforced by the form of address: Ács calls the priest “my venerable colleague,” while the priest prays for their spiritual salvation using the Gospodin Pomiluj (Lord, have mercy) formula in his native language.

Ács’s remarks regarding the denominations living in exile reflect an ecumenical attitude and inter-confessional openness that presumably offered consolation to members of various denominations and helped to heal personal trauma within the community. One of the most striking examples occurs when existential differences between denominations dissolve in a shared purpose for a common good—as when Orthodox Armenian believers in Sumla open their church to refugees of very mixed backgrounds. Ács describes this generous gesture with undisguised surprise:

“I preached in the Sumla Armenian church, where the priests placed a bishop’s mitre and then a crown on my head, but since each one reached down to my neck, they only wanted to dress me in a golden chasuble; I politely managed to avoid that, but not the ministrant boys, who served before me with burning wax candles until the end of the ceremony. Before preaching, I sat on the priestly chair and listened to the Mass, which a Polish Catholic priest conducted for the congregation. Next to me, in the bishop’s seat, sat the world’s most famous orator (that is, Kossuth), who, however, was not a priest but a statesman. The majority of my audience consisted of Catholics, but there were also Calvinists, Lutherans, Orthodox believers, Jews, Orthodox Armenians, Catholic Armenians, Greek Orthodox, Bulgarians, and Muslims. I, a Calvinist pastor, distributed communion from the Armenian church’s vessels, and several Catholics and even Jews partook. On another occasion, a few English ladies also did.”2

This description indicates that the ecumenical service was held several times during Ács’s exile in Turkey. Liturgical hospitality helped refugees feel at home in a foreign environment through the openness of the religious ceremony. It is particularly significant that Ács, as the Reformed pastor leading the diaspora, was offered the primary liturgical vestments and church vessels—among the most substantial symbolic attributes of any church—and that Kossuth, a Protestant statesman, was accorded the respect due to a church leader. As an ecumenical culmination, the Lord’s Supper was distributed according to the Calvinist tradition and received by all without distinction, offering clear evidence of an ecumenical approach that upheld the biblical virtues of humility and sobriety while fulfilling the demands of interreligious mediation, expressed not only in words but in religious practice. The experience of lived religion thus reveals a practical mode of interconfessional awareness, shaped by exile and the effort to mitigate vulnerability in minority situations.

Ács observed that the situation of the Armenians and their church bore some resemblance to that of the Jews and the Hungarians, in that they too had frequently experienced wandering and persecution throughout their history. Despite these hardships, they continued to hold fast to their faith and religious traditions, and like the others, they harbored the hope of one day returning to their homeland after its long dispersion (G. Ács 1989, p. 158).

The emigrant and exile context in itself significantly softened confessional boundaries, as the imperatives of survival and cohesion became paramount. This did not mean that such practice became commonplace, but rather that the specific historical and social circumstances of emigration created a shared horizon in which confessional differences, to some extent, receded into the background. The event can, in fact, be described as the fulfillment of Kossuth’s own aspirations, for whom interconfessional cooperation and an ecumenical stance formed a central tenet of his and his followers’ creed. It stands, in this sense, as an example of religious and confessional rapprochement emerging from a socially and existentially pressured situation. Similar developments can be observed among other peoples as well, especially among those living as minorities or in diaspora, where comparable processes of confessional rapprochement occur under identity-testing existential conditions (Simavoryan and Hovyan 2012).

5. Ács’s Writings on Moral and Social Issues: An Overview

Numerous works have been written about emigration from Hungary, and the fate of the refugees from the War of Independence is preserved in several fragmentary writings and diary excerpts. Behind these life stories, similar patterns typically emerge: the individual had fought for freedom by word or by arms, and after the defeat followed Governor Kossuth—first to Turkey, then to other Western countries. Ács faced a similar fate; fearing reprisals and hoping for a change of fortune, he traveled first to Turkey as a court chaplain and, some eighteen months later, followed Lajos Kossuth to America. In his notes, he set aside daily politics—émigré politics in particular—and, as a man of moderation and prudence, functioned more as an observer and astute eyewitness than as an influencer of historical events. He was a court priest, a man of books and Scripture—a Central European petty noble cleric trained in classical philology, languages, and biblical study. Within a few months, he had acquired a working knowledge of Turkish and later learned English. He often recorded in his notes that he had gone abroad to see the world, and to read and study (Bogáti 1989, p. 13). His writings can equally be read as reading notes, in which he records the substance of his readings and adds his own reflections, shaped by his modest Protestant worldview and way of life. He reports and summarizes most phenomena he encounters—whether read or witnessed, religious or social. The work can also be regarded as a memoir, containing substantial, coherent chapters in which he recounts episodes of public interest: the wanderings of the Hungarian diaspora through the European part of Turkey, then into Asia Minor, and finally to the American continent.

Most scholarly literature considers the account a travelog, as Ács author ventures into ever more remote regions, reporting on the society, morals, and religious customs of local people. Among his readings are numerous books and accounts from the Near East, which he takes as models, striving to describe the phenomena he encountered in as prejudice-free and impartial a manner as possible. He does not regard himself as a stranger but as a guest who adapts to the local way of life. His memoir can rightfully be considered an ethnographic work as well, since he recorded many folk customs, religious traditions, and folk wisdom. This material also calls to mind comparable experiences from the Drava region of his native homeland. Whatever he wrote about, his primary interest was the moral dimensions, whether in judging individuals or societies. Had he lived a few decades later, the outlook he represented and lived by might well have been called free-thinking or inclusive (ibid., p. 25). He remained puritanical and moralistic throughout, yet his education, humor, and linguistic talent saved him from judging other cultures, customs, and denominations based solely on dramatic historical and political impressions, grounding his assessments instead in direct experiences among the people.

His wide-ranging curiosity—extending to confessional questions, folk life, and local customs—is precisely what makes his observations valuable, as he draws occasional parallels between the everyday lives, religious practices, and cultural habits of his compatriots and distant peoples (Zombori 1979, p. 207). Despite their differences, he found the Eastern way of life sympathetic and rejected contemporary travel accounts that judged Eastern culture as inferior and backward. He regarded life among the Turkish people as a complement and corrective to European life and mentality, appreciating the distance from the noise of civilization, the calm of nature, and the cohesion of family life. He also observed that Eastern peoples frequently employ striking, allegorical and figurative expressions and aphorisms in everyday speech, reminiscent of ancient biblical language and modes of Christian thought (ibid., pp. 208–9). Finally, he looked back on his hosts with affection and gratitude, expressing:

“I loved the Turks, and my true-believing acquaintances loved me too. When I took leave of them, more than one shed tears. Even though I rejoiced at my release from Kütahya, in the midst of my joy, I did not forget that during those two and a half years, no Turk showed me anything but kindness, treating me with courtesy and graciousness throughout, and that their government—to which they were by no means obliged—also took care of me for a few years. Even if I suffered hardship during those two years, it was not caused by the Turks; on the contrary, they alleviated it in many ways. The love and gratitude I owed them, and which I still feel deeply, tempered the joy of my release from captivity, yet I was of good cheer.”3

6. Conclusions

According to his diaries, Ács strove to live by the illusion of freedom, both for himself and his companions forced into diaspora under difficult historical circumstances. At the same time, he did not view this period as alienating or unbearable; rather, he saw it as an experience that added an extra dimension to his identity. His Turkish-Ottoman notes produce no alienating effect; instead, they offer a sober reassessment of prevailing conditions. Within the social landscape, he sought points of connection where, even amid confessional diversity, religious life remained existentially meaningful for his community. He also recognized the value of collective folk religiosity, to which he felt an affinity: drawing on comparable traditions from his homeland, he appreciated its originality and authenticity. He approached these practices with understanding and without prejudice, seeking to discern the underlying human similarities among various customs and rituals. This aligns him with a conception of faith that emphasizes a socially grounded, culturally situated interpretation of religion, examining the expressive forms of belief from below and from the standpoint of the margins (Tüskés 1981, pp. 114–16).

As can generally be said about his notes, the Latin adage Habet sua fata libelli applies—books have their own fate. Ács’s exile diaries, comprising more than five thousand manuscript pages, survived historical upheavals intact. However, their systematic editing and publication took place almost a century after his death, owing in part to the efforts of Péter Bogáti, István Zombori, Károly Lábadi, and others, who published substantial selections from them. Thus, his written memoirs from the post-1849 period became accessible to a wider audience beyond his native region along the Dráva River (Zombori 1987, p. 15). That his work received greater scholarly attention only belatedly may be attributed, beyond historical circumstances, to his chosen way of life. Ács had seen much of the world, yet upon returning home to the Dráva region, he embraced the lifestyle of the modest rural Calvinist pastor, remaining versatile and open-minded even far from major centers, and demonstrating that humility and patience remained enduring virtues in an age of upheaval. Though belated, his literary legacy has since been recognized by ethnographers and scholars of religious history and literature as significant in religious, cultural, and ethnographic terms. It is hoped that this study will contribute to a comprehensive critical edition and further scholarly analysis of Gedeon Ács’s diaries.