Even before he was named minister of finance in the Bajnai government Péter Oszkó appeared frequently in the Hungarian media because he was one of the bipartisan "experts" who crafted the recommendations of the Reform Alliance. Since he headed one of the workshops dealing with tax reforms he was often asked to explain the Alliance's ideas to television viewers. I always found him to be clear and measured, and therefore I didn't think that Oszkó would have any communication problem once he became finance minister. However, it seems that the communication skills necessary for a politician belong to a genre different from those required of a simple expert. Compared to his predecessor, he hasn't yet learned to hold his own with representatives of the media.
Journalists try to trip up politicians, and therefore anyone who accepts a political position has to be on his toes. For instance, if there is a misstatement on the part of the reporter it should be immediately corrected. Words should be chosen carefully and must be such that they are not open to misinterpretation. Below I will focus on a brief satellite interview between Szilvia Krizsó, the new anchor woman of A Szólás Szabadsága (Freedom of Speech, MTV on Sunday nights), and Péter Oszkó in Washington. Oszkó was one of the finance ministers who went to Washington for the spring meeting of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund this past weekend. The IMF and the World Bank have two meetings a year, one in the spring and the other in November. Oszkó attended this meeting as a matter of course. If there hadn't been a change of government his predecessor János Veres would have travelled to Washington. A routine affair.
Well, let's see what Szilvia Krizsó did with this interview. She began by saying that surely Oszkó went to Washington "not only to pay an introductory visit to the IMF" but obviously he must have had something more important in mind. Did he talk with the IMF about restructuring the IMF loan? Was he asking perhaps for further financial assistance for Hungary from the IMF? These presuppositions are the bread and butter of Hungarian journalists. Instead of simply asking the politician what he is doing in Washington, Krizsó tells him what she thinks he is doing in Washington. Oszkó at this point should have told her that she was totally mistaken. He should have explained the twice-yearly IMF meetings and said that his visit was routine.
Krizsó pressed on, using ammunition from an earlier Oszkó interview with Bloomberg. In this interview, widely reported in the Hungarian press, Oszkó didn't confirm that Hungary will adhere to the schedule arrived at between the IMF and Hungary. Instead, he said that "Hungary will endeavor to fulfill its obligations." That, in my opinion incorrectly, was understood as "Hungary will try but is not at all sure that it will be able to fulfill the demands of the IMF." The Hungarian verb used was "igyekszik" which, according to Magyar Értelmező Kéziszótár, means that "one does his utmost to achieve something." But Hungarian journalists were quick to consider this back pedaling on the part of the government.
Oszkó again didn't have the political savvy to give a Hungarian lesson to the journalist. Perhaps he could have started by saying: "The word 'igyekszik' doesn't mean what you think it means." And then explain what it means. That might not have been polite but it would have been clear-cut and understandable by all. But he didn't, so Krizsó went on. This time she wanted to know whether Oszkó was asking for some "flexibility" from the IMF. In plain language: did Hungary ask for more favorable terms? Perhaps they could spend a little more here and a little more there and Dominick Strauss-Kahn would smile benignly and even pat Oszkó and Bajnai on the back.
Krizsó, by the way, is not alone in badgering politicians. The standard line is that the government won't be able to carry out the necessary spending cuts. Surely, the government will be frightened by demonstrations or strikes. Or MSZP politicians, signed promissory notes or not, won't support the government because they are worried about their sinking popularity. If one heard this only three times a day it would perhaps be merely tiresome, but hearing it twenty times from the mouth of virtually every reporter is infuriating. I try to imagine an American journalist getting up at a press conference and saying to President Obama: "Isn't it obvious that you will fail to solve the problems of this country? Isn't it possible that all the Democrats will leave you in the lurch?" Surely, this is hard to imagine. But in Hungary it is everyday fare. Somehow Hungarians journalists think that this is good journalism.
This morning I received a link to an interview with András Balczó, the three-time pentathlon gold medalist (1960,1968, 1972) who was named “Honored Master of Sports of the USSR” after his third win. Somehow I don’t think that Balczó proudly displays this particular trophy because by now he is one of the most outspoken right-wingers in the country. The interview was published at
, a website whose the editors/owners consider themselves “politically independent” but admit that some of their ideas are close to certain groups. I would say so. Jobbik.net is even more openly antisemitic than
, the official website of the Movement for a Better Hungary (Jobbik Mozgalom Magyarországért), the official name of the party. By the way, here is the party’s logo. Anyone who is interested in Jobbik should visit that site because it has plenty of information about the party in English in addition to Russian, German, and French. Surely, money is no object.
András Balczó’s interview is entitled: “Hungary is a Jewish Colony.” The whole fairly lengthy interview is nothing but an attempt to prove that Jews rule Hungary. He is only telling the truth, he maintains; among themselves Jews admit that he is right. And since he is only telling the truth, he cannot be an antisemite. The interview fits in with the rest of jobbik.net. The slogan of the website, by the way, is: Si vis pacem, para bellum, that is “If you wish for peace, prepare for war.” How apt when the first item is ”In memoriam Eduardo Rózsa-Flores (1960-2009).”
While András Balczó (whose brother by the way is one of the vice presidents of Jobbik) openly reveals his antisemitism, the official Jobbik program for the EP elections is more subtle. But the message is the same. The title of the program is “Hungary belongs to the Hungarians.” To whom should it belong, one could ask. The program is 56 pages long and a perfect example of right-wing social demagoguery, xenophobia, anti-capitalist slogans, and anti-Gypsy rhetoric. Jobbik until now was no friend of the European Union and therefore it is surprising that the party even wants to be represented in the European parliament. Their program claims that the party’s aim is to change the very nature of the European Union. I somehow doubt that if Jobbik’s Krisztina Morvai gets to Brussels she will be able to change the course of the EU. On the other hand, her presence there might be a huge embarrassment to Hungary.
Krisztina Morvai’s autobiography can be found on Jobbik’s website. It is somewhat embellished, but at least on paper her curriculum vitae is impressive. An elite high school in Budapest, a law degree from ELTE (University of Budapest), a qualifying exam for a judgeship, a degree of “kandidátus” that used to be the equivalent of a Ph.D. but given out by the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. She received an LL.M. from King’s College, London University, spent a year at the University of Wisconsin, Madison as a Fulbright Scholar, and for four years, between 2002 and 2006, was Hungary’s representative at the “Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination” (CEDAW) of the United Nations. The dates are important: it was the socialist government that sent her to New York. However, four years later the government decided not to renew her contract and opted for Andrea Pető instead. Morvai decided to act. She wrote a letter to the head of the committee in which she accused her own government of sending a “zionist” to New York, most likely due to Israeli pressure. I won’t go into the ensuing gory details, but the end result was that Morvai left New York and Hungary lost its right to be represented at CEDAW. Morvai’s extreme right-wing, anti-Jewish, pro-Palestine attitudes can be dated from this time.
Since her return to Hungary she has thrown herself into anti-government activities, siding with the extreme right. She was the one who launched a successful propaganda campaign against the police during the riots of October 23, 2006. Admittedly, there were a few overreactions on the part of the fairly inexperienced Hungarian police but nothing like what Morvai portrayed. And she hasn’t let up since. She is at every right-wing demonstration, after which she accuses the police of wrongdoing even when there is absolutely no sign of it. The last time she claimed that she needed body guards to defend her from a concerted police attack. By now I am sure the policemen don’t even dare to get close to the woman.
Whether Morvai ends up in Brussels depends on how many people go to the polls. Supporters of Jobbik most likely will vote in large numbers. Fidesz voters are also eager. MSZP and SZDSZ supporters, on the other hand, are lackadaisical, especially when an election is not national. If the socialist and liberal voters don’t get motivated the EU elections might be a total bust for these two parties. Both Fidesz and Jobbik are putting a great deal of effort into the campaign. As usual MSZP and SZDSZ are still nowhere to be seen. MSZP promised to start its campaign on May 1. We will see.
The Hungarian political scene is relatively quiet at the moment. The MSZP and SZDSZ caucuses are planning to do something against holocaust denial, but knowing the Hungarian Constitutional Court most likely nothing will come of it. Another Gypsy was killed, this time in Tiszalök. This man certainly wasn't stealing wood from the nearby forest. Both he and his wife had jobs and lived in relative comfort. He was just getting into his car around 6 p.m. to go to work when he was shot dead. The police are madly looking for the perpetrator whom they suspect has military training and might be responsible for two earlier assassinations.
The question of military training takes us straight to Bolivia and perhaps reveals something about the Hungarian far right as well. The Hungarian Foreign Ministry's reaction to the Bolivian attack on the Bolivian-Hungarian-Croatian-Irish "terrorists" has been, in my opinion, somewhat hasty. Although the new foreign minister keeps repeating that the Hungarian government considers this case a "consular" matter, the first announcements were tinged with political overtones. That is, the Hungarians don't think that Rózsa-Flores and his co-conspirators were terrorists. Neither do the journalists. The word "terrorists" is always in quotation marks. Here is a good example. The caption reads: "Confiscated weapons from 'terrorists' in Santa Cruz: A show?" In brief, they consider the Bolivian allegations baseless. As far as I can ascertain, Rózsa-Flores might not have wanted to assassinate Evo Morales, but he certainly went to Bolivia to organize an army. Meanwhile MTV aired a video by András Kepes who has a weekly program called "Strange Stories." Eduardo Rózsa-Flores, an old friend of Kepes, approached him to videotape a conversation that Kepes was supposed to keep secret and release only in the event of Rózsa-Flores's death. The conversation took place on September 8, 2008. Rózsa-Flores told Kepes that he had been approached by people from Bolivia asking him to come and organize an army that was supposed to defend the eastern provinces' autonomy from the central government. Although he emphasized that this army was supposed to act only in self-defense, by the end it was clear that if Santa Cruz's aim of autonomy was in any way threatened, this army was ready to engage in a civil war. Rózsa-Flores and his co-conspirators received money for travel expenses to Brazil where "his friends" waited for him at the airport. They took him by car to the "green zone" and on foot he crossed the border illegally through the jungle. On the other side, friends met him and took him to Santa Cruz. In the video Rózsa-Flores didn't mention anyone else, but he must have recruited men from the Székely Legion made up of Transylvanian Hungarians living in Hungary.
The video offered some interesting tidbits about Rózsa-Flores's life. A few years ago he bought a house in a village somewhere in northern Hungary. On the solid wooden fence one can see MONDJON LE! in large white letters. "Resign!" in English. When Kepes inquired who should resign, he jokingly said: "Everybody should resign!" It is of course obvious whom he had in mind: Ferenc Gyurcsány. After all, Fidesz had demanded the same for years. Gyurcsány's picture was plastered on some kind of damaged military object and the rumor spread that Rózsa-Flores practiced target shooting there. That turned out not to be the case. However, he had a somewhat damaged Stalin bust in his backyard with a whole in its head. Rózsa-Flores said something to Kepes about using the bust as a vessel for "vomiting" after drinking bouts. However, people remember when Rózsa-Flores's room was full of Lenin and Che Guevara pictures and Stalin statues. That time not as a joke. In his yard one can also find Christ on the cross alongside Stalin and Gyurcsány. All sorts of helmets that Rózsa-Flores had collected over the years were placed in a row . He mentioned something about trips to Baghdad, Indonesia, Sudan, and his conversion to Islam. However, his conversion didn't prevent him from serving as an altar boy in the local Catholic church.
It is fascinating how Rózsa-Flores's image has been morphing of late in certain circles. Kepes thinks that he was a unique individual who cannot be labeled simply as a left- or a right-winger. A unique individual who fought for the liberation of people in general. However, the bits and pieces that emerge from his past life show an erratic individual who began his career, most likely under the influence of his father, on the far left. According to an anonymous friend, he even spent some time in the school of the KGB in Moscow. He apparently worked for the Hungarian secret service as an informer. One of his daily reports about a meeting of the democratic opposition in Hungary actually became public. Later he became active in Fidesz. But then he moved farther to the right.
Another admirer of Rózsa-Flores is Ibolya Fekete, the writer and director of the film Chico (2001) in which Rózsa-Flores more or less plays himself in the Serbian-Croatian war of the early 1990s. The film is going to be shown again because of the great interest. Opinions on the film vary. Some find it a pseudo-documentary, no more than a travelogue through five countries. One can read some viewer comments here:
Rózsa-Flores had to be a very persuasive man to convince inexperienced young men to travel to Bolivia to fight for a cause they knew nothing about except what Rózsa-Flores told them. One of these men, originally from Transylvania, is dead. Another was badly beaten. Yesterday I heard that another Hungarian was arrested: Tibor Révész, the founder of the Székely Légió. When I tried to learn something about the Légió I found a website and there an anonymous comment: "Tibor Révész, you're responsible for the death of Árpád Magyarosi." Although the Székely Légió vigorously denied Romanian accusations that it was a paramilitary organization established to fight for the autonomy of those two or three Romanian counties where Hungarians are in the majority, perhaps Romanian intelligence wasn't that far off after all. I hasten to add that the whole thing sounds to me like a childish enterprise without the slightest chance of success.
I assume most of my readers are familiar with the name Esterházy. Not necessarily Péter, the contemporary Hungarian writer, but his ancestors, most notably Prince Miklós József Esterházy (1714-1790), the fabulously rich Hungarian aristocrat in whose Hungarian "country estate" Joseph Haydn lived and worked. The country estate was modelled on Versailles and naturally had a concert hall, still in use. (For anyone planning a Hungarian vacation, a side trip to Fertőd would be rewarding.) But one doesn't have to go back that far in Péter Esterházy's family tree. His grandfather, Count Móric Esterházy (1881-1960), was prime minister of Hungary for a short stint. Grandfather Móric was no friend of the Germans and, after the Arrow Cross takeover of Hungary, the Gestapo arrested him. He was detained in Hungary for a while and then in February 1945 was taken by the Germans to Mauthausen. He returned to Hungary in September 1945. As a Hungarian aristocrat after the war he had more than his share of troubles. He was rendered penniless and his family was exiled from Budapest. After 1956 he obviously had had enough and moved to Vienna where he died four years later. But his son Mátyás (1919-1980) remained in Hungary and his children were born there–Péter, the oldest, in 1950. Péter attended the famous Jesuit High School in Budapest and entered the University of Budapest (1969-1974) as a mathematics major.
So were there any skeletons in the aristocractic family closet? Aren't there always? As was later revealed, Mátyás Esterházy was approached by the Hungarian secret police and asked to report on his friends. Apparently the father agreed to cooperate with the authorities in the hope that his son would be able to enter university. Péter had no clue about this Faustian bargain. He wrote a monumental novel about his ancestors, Celestial Harmonies: A Novel (Harmonia Caelestis, 2000, 2004) in which he painted a glowing portrait of his father. That was before he discovered his father's cooperation with the communist dictatorship. He wrote a sequel entitled Revised Edition (Javított kiadás); as far as I know this book has not been translated into English, which is a pity.
Péter Esterházy is especially popular in Germany. But along with Péter Nádas, György Konrád, and Imre Kertész, he is also familiar to English readers. Several of Esterházy's books were translated into English: Helping Verbs of the Heart (1985), The Transporters (1983), The Glance of Countess Hahn-Hahn (Down the Danube) (1991), She Loves Me (1993), A Little Hungarian Pornography (1985), and the above mentioned Celestial Harmonies: A Novel. All told, his works have been translated into more than twenty languages. John Updike wrote about him in The New Yorker: "Esterhazy's prose is jumpy, allusive, and slangy. . . . there is vividness, an electric crackle. The sentences are active and concrete. Physical details leap from the murk of emotional ambivalence."
So when Péter Esterházy speaks not as a novelist but as a social commentator people listen. And he did so only a few days ago in Élet és Irodalom (April 17, 2009). The title of the piece is "Hungarian or Szilárd Rubin's foreign success." Apparently the highlight of this year's book festival is a novel written in 1964 that remained pretty well forgotten. Szilárd Rubin (1927-) wrote a couple of not too good novels in the 1960s but his Csirkejáték (Playing Chicken) was outside the mold. A Hungarian publisher decided that it was time to reissue the book, and suddenly everybody discovered that it was in fact a modern classic. Once the novel was translated into German, critics compared Rubin to Alain-Fournier and F. Scott Fitzgerald.
So why does Esterházy speak about "Hungarian success" as opposed to Szilárd Rubin's success? Because right-wing writers and critics in publications such as Magyar Nemzet and Heti Válasz divide contemporary Hungarian literature into two camps. There are the good guys–those who write literature that helps readers discover their national identity and who "think in terms of nation and community." By contrast, the bad guys think of literature as exportable, modern. These writers avoid local idiosyncracies and focus on Europe as a whole. They want to have a presence in the centers of world culture. They think in terms of their own careers, and Hungary's problems leave them cold.
Esterházy promoted Rubin's book, despite the fact that the author is ideologically to the right and is embraced by right-wing critics. He did so because he thought the novel was good. By contrast, Esterházy is under relentless attack by right-wing critics. He is viewed as one of the bad guys. Not unnaturally, he blames politics and politicians for this state of affair. Good writers espouse a range of political and cultural views. For instance, I doubt that Ferenc Herczeg, the conservative writer between the two world wars, and Attila József who claimed that he "has no God and no fatherland" were exactly happy bedfellows. But Viktor Orbán and "the national side" (nemzeti oldal) repeatedly assert that only those people belong to the "nation" who are on the "national" side. On their side. If one doesn't agree with them, that person simply doesn't belong to the nation. Thus, the above mentioned internationally acclaimed Hungarian writers are not really Hungarians. What Esterházy wants to know is what the situation is now that Szilárd Rubin is the talk of Leipzig? After all, he is on the national side. Is it his success or a Hungarian success? Or perhaps both?
First, let me say a few things about the building. Work on it began in 1885 and went on for seventeen years. It was designed in the Gothic Revival style of the 1830s and was grandiose. Perhaps as grandiose as the then Hungarian political elite imagined Hungary to be. The building itself is 268 meters long and 123 meters wide. Forty kilograms of gold were used to gild the interior. There are thirteen elevators, innumerable corridors, and a huge gallery. There are two chambers because in those days the Hungarian parliament followed the British practice–a house of lords and a house of commons. Today the upper house's chamber is rarely used, though here and there one hears rumblings about reestablishing the upper house. For the time being one doesn't have to take them seriously.
The chamber used for parliamentary sessions is impressive, especially the galleries. But even the floor (using an American expression, as in "on the floor of the Senate") is grandiose. The first row of seats is covered in red velvet; the rest are upholstered in leather. The first row is reserved for ministers of the government; hence in Hungarian one of the synonyms for a ministerial post is "velvet chair" (bársony szék). The speaker of the house (házelnök, president of the house in Hungarian) sits in the middle on a throne-like podium. At the moment the speaker of the house is Katalin Szili who, on the whole, is handling her duties quite well. She has several deputies, one from each party with a parliamentary caucus, who occasionally take over her duties. The galleries are reserved for visitors and the press. Until László Sólyom became president, if a president wanted to attend a parliamentary session, he could sit in the first row in a designated seat. Sólyom decided that sitting with the government was too cozy and opted instead to sit in the gallery, in a box right across from the speaker of the house.
When Gordon Bajnai was confirmed as the new prime minister, he had to wend his way through the corridors to appear in the president's box because Sólyom wanted to congratulate him. One of the MSZP members called the president a boor. Because, he said, the one who congratulates goes to the celebrant and not vice versa. However some protocol expert (by now retired) apparently found it perfectly acceptable. It's another thing, in my opinion, that by this move Sólyom wanted to define his relation to the prime minister and the government. But, as someone called Bajnai, the "boy scout" smilingly obliged.
Here is the view of the chamber from the other end, showing the box to which the president decided to move. In the middle of the first row one can see two shorter sets of chairs. On the left the first chair is where the current prime minister sits. Next to him the minister in charge of his office. The two chairs on the right side of the aisle are now vacant. But if the prime minister were, for example, Viktor Orbán, he would sit in the middle on the right side of the aisle. Behind the prime minister sits Ildikó Lendvai, the former head of the MSZP caucus, and next to her Attila Mesterházy, her successor. While the prime minister spoke for almost twenty minutes last Monday, the camera remained focused on him and those who sat directly behind him. So we could watch MSZP members passing notes to each other. Lendvai got at least three notes during this period. It's also always amusing to watch the eighty-four-year-old Iván Vitányi who is still sharp but obviously bored. He is always present but his eyes are inevitably closed.
It is usually on Mondays that the prime minister addresses parliament. Heads of each causus are then allowed five minutes to respond. So we hear from Tibor Navracsics of Fidesz, Attila Mesterházy of MSZP, János Kóka of SZDSZ, and finally either the leader of KDNP (Christian Democratic People's Party) or one his deputies. Before MDF lost its right to form a caucus either Károly Herényi, head of the caucus, or Ibolya Dávid, his deputy, also spoke.
I watched at least an hour's worth of the Monday session and tried to compare the atmosphere to the pre-Bajnai period. First of all, Fidesz and KDNP decided to stay in the chamber while Bajnai spoke. That is a welcome change. And the atmosphere is different. Bajnai is very low-keyed and a bit dull, although he can speak quite well without notes. He is not eloquent but rather businesslike. However, Tibor Navracsics responded to Bajnai in exactly the same manner, sarcastic and somewhat shrill, as if he were talking to Ferenc Gyurcsány. All the while his great admirer who sits next to him, Mrs. Pelcz neé Ildikó Gál, nodded vigorously and smiled broadly when she thought that Navracsics said something terribly clever. And there was plenty of opportunity to nod and smile because Navracsics as usual tore into Bajnai. What kind of economic crisis solving government is it that still doesn't have a minister of the economy and development? What can Bajnai come up with when he was part and parcel of the government that caused all the problems? In the past it was in answers to Navracsics that Gyurcsány shined. He was witty and cutting and gave back to Navracsics in kind. But a new man, a new way of dealing with the opposition. I would have liked to know what went on in Navracsics's head when the quiet-spoken Bajnai replied: "I seem to discover a certain amount of agreement in Mr. Navracsics's speech." Mrs. Pelcz was outraged: "What agreement?"–that was written all over her face. And Bajnai continued: "I'm sorry if I got you into trouble!" Big laughter on the left.
A similar situation occurred after Mihály Varga gave a five-minute harangue about the economic missteps of the government past and present. The new minister of finance, Péter Oszkó, answered. Oszkó is also a soft-spoken fellow. Varga's insulting speech was answered briefly as if he didn't even hear any of the accusations. Oszkó's reaction was: "I welcome every constructive suggestion. My door is always open."
I don't know what Fidesz's frontmen will do in these new circumstances. Can they go on as before or will they have to come out with something better, or at least different? I don't know.
Finally, videos of the Hungarian parliamentary sessions are available on the internet. To view them one needs Real Player's latest version. The Monday session I'm writing about here can be accessed at
Just click on the Videó/Felsz. idő and you will be able to listen to any speech you are interested in.
I could have written the article published by Gyula Hellenbart that appeared in the April 10 issue of Élet és Irodalom's "Feuilleton" section. Or, at least, I agree wholeheartedly with his sentiments.
I must say that I wasn't familiar with Gyula Hellenbart's writings, most likely because he is a literary historian who left Hungary in 1956 for Germany. Having lived outside of Hungary for over 50 years, his way at looking at Hungary and Hungarian national identity is obviously different from the homegrown variety. In this article Hellenbart sets aside such obvious components of national identity as language or heritage. Instead, he concentrates on the way in which people's knowledge of history (or lack thereof) contributes to Hungarian societal attitudes. His overarching thesis is that national self-knowledge cannot exist without a critically parsed knowledge of history.
Although Hungarian historiography of the last few decades has been of very high quality, Hellenbart points to the paucity of historical references in the Hungarian media. And when they occur they are mostly untrue clichés. For example: Hungary as the "bastion of Christendom," the Golden Bull as "the first constitution of the Continent," and Hungary as a great power because "during the reign of Louis the Great three oceans washed the shores of the country." A lot of boasting, wishful thinking, half-truths or "outright fiction." All this supports the "ethnocentric bias" and makes it difficult for "the society to grow up." In brief, Hungarian society has not moved beyond the romanticism of the nineteenth century and continues to find in its statues, oils, and operas "a source of national glory that feeds its patriotism and its desire for prestige."
Of course, a stable national self-esteem is necessary but not the kind that is based on illusions. Hellenbart quotes himself from 1967. He wrote a piece in Új Látóhatár, an emigré monthly, in which he outlined the Hungarian refugees' response to the West. The Hungarian university students who found themselves in western Europe after 1956 were upset about how little the world knew about Hungary. But Hellenbart pointed out that people from other countries know very little about other people in general. The "world" knows just as little about Poland, Norway, Finland, or Romania. And what do Hungarians know about German or French history? Mighty little. Apparently, Hellenbart's compatriots didn't buy his argument. A reader from Zurich wrote a scathing critique of the piece. In his rebuttal he recounted an event that actually supported Hellenbart's conclusions. "During the spring of 1965 I saw, together with a friend from Hungary, the exhibition 'Les tresors des églises de France' in the Musée des Arts Décoratifs. We went from room to room and admired the masterpieces of this fabulously rich exhibition. Then my friend exclaimed: 'Let's leave because it makes my blood boil!' 'But why'–I asked, surprised. 'Because it is only here that I see what we have lost, while everything these people built has survived.' " This obviously learned friend from Hungary truly believed that Hungarian culture of the Middle Ages equaled that of France or for that matter that of any western European country. The truth is that Hungary even then was an "underdeveloped" or "developing" nation. But there's always an excuse. If Hungarians go, let's say, to Versailles, they immediately start talking about the Mongols, the Turks, and the Habsburg oppression.
"We don't want to accept ourselves as we are. We don't want to understand that ever since Saint Stephen we have been at the periphery." Yes, this is difficult to swallow, especially when the Hungarian school system teaches Hungarian history in a vacuum and never subjects the country to international metrics. A few years ago a series was launched entitled "Hungarians in Europe" that, especially the first volume (Pál Engel, Beilleszkedés Európába a kezdetektől 1440-ig), made a valiant effort to put Hungary "in its place." But how many people read it? Not too many. I have also made efforts to offer a few sobering examples of Hungary's backwardness. I mentioned the economic historian György Ránki's witty remark: "The European Continent slants eastward." It didn't make a dent. I tried to ask: 'Why was not possible to establish a university in Hungary until the seventeenth century?" Why did the two earlier attempts fail? The first under the reign of Louis the Great "whose country was surrounded by three oceans." And the second under the reign of Matthias, the Renaissance king whose time is described as the golden age of Hungary.
At the same time Hungarians look down on some of their neighbors and have an especially low opinion of "American culture." Well, I'm not going to enter into cultural warfare. But let me give an example that may be a bit above the fray. Not long ago, an internet acquaintance belittled American history: "Let's face it. What is two hundred years! Hungary has been an important country for the last 1,100 years!" First I had to remind her that although the war of independence took place only at the end of the eighteenth century, the British settlers came to these shores four hundred years ago. I also reminded her that the Pilgrims arrived here in 1620 and sixteen years later established Harvard University. Hungary's first university was established in 1635, one year earlier. The discussion came to an abrupt halt.
The Hungarian Constitution was written to ensure freedom of speech as an absolute right (a right that, as the U.S. Constitution says, cannot be abridged), so all parliamentary attempts to limit this right have failed at the hands of the judges of the Constitutional Court. Parliament sought to constrain what we call "hate speech." There were many instances of verbal abuse of minority groups, Gypsies, Jews, or homosexuals, but the Court deemed them legal expressions of free speech. The Constitution is equally liberal when it comes to establishing parties. According to the constitution "political parties may be freely founded and may act in freedom provided they show respect for the Constitution and the statutes of constitutional law." Therefore for the past twenty years or so far-right parties could be freely established.
Last Saturday, April 18, sixty members of the Hungarian Guard, uniforms and all, demonstrated in front of the German Embassy. The Hungarian Guard a few months ago split into two not quite equal factions. The people who took part in the demonstration belong to the smaller splinter group led by István Dósa. Since the group announced its intention to march and demonstrate to the Budapest police, the sixty guardists received a police escort from the Adam Clark Square at the Chain Bridge all the way to the German Embassy in the Castle District. This splinter group openly calls itself national socialist. Banners saying "Down with the Dogma of the Holocaust" and "The Third Reich Will Fight Back" can be seen on the picture below. The guardists wanted to hand their "manifesto" to the Germans inside but, not surprisingly, the staff of the embassy refused to take it.
This Dósa-led group seems very active. Just lately they staged several demonstrations together with the Pax Hungarica Movement, also a neo-nazi organization. See
The demonstration was staged a day before the annual "March of Life" commemorating the victims of the holocaust. Although I didn't spend much time at their web site, there was one thing that was hard to miss. In Hungarian the March of Life is called "Élet menete," but the "peaceful" Hungarian movement corrected it: "Az élősködők [the parasites'] march." A nice bunch of people in brief. Dósa otherwise is looking forward to any possible legal consequence of his action. No wonder that he is so brief: unlike in Germany or Austria holocaust denial is not a crime.
Until now it was mostly MSZP members of parliament who tried to prevent by legal means the spread of hate speech and extreme propaganda against minority groups. SZDSZ in a somewhat doctrinaire manner refused to lend a helping hand to such attempts. The liberal politicians argued that legal restrictions are useless. It is education that will solve the problem. The more enlightened and rational members of society will be able to explain to this minority that they are simply wrong. And they will see the light. I don't want to sound too pessimistic, but I'm afraid that the Hungarian liberals are naive. I suspect that none of them ever sat down with a Hungarian "national socialist" and tried to have a rational dialogue. Just today two people, one a leader of Jobbik and the other a MIÉP sympathizer, phoned in to György Bolgár's show and, although Bolgár tried his darndest to convince them of their mistaken ways, his callers didn't budge an inch from their earlier position.
It seems that the activity of these sixty guardists was too much even for SZDSZ. First of all, some of their leaders called Jobbik, the party that brought the Hungarian Guard to life, a neo-nazi organization. Also, they would now like to introduce legislation that would make denial of the holocaust a crime. On Monday several parliamentary members (MSZP and SZDSZ) demanded a change in the constitution. Fidesz offered a different agenda: a parliamentary committee to investigate the role of the police. Why the police didn't stop the demonstration, a demonstration that as far as I can see was perfectly legal, however abhorrent.
Jobbik's reaction was interesting. One of the vice presidents of the party explained to Bolgár today that this Hungarian Guard is not their Hungarian Guard. They are in no way responsible for what Dósa's Hungarian Guard does. (Mind you, outwardly one cannot distinguish between the two groups: same uniform, same everything.) Moreover, Jobbik will sue every politician who called Jobbik a nazi party. I have already counted at least three such politicians: Gábor Fodor (SZDSZ), Péter Gusztos (SZDSZ), and Ildikó Lendvai (MSZP). As she put it: "A nazi is a nazi and shame is shame." Jobbik is not a right radical party but a nazi party. One ought to mention that Jobbik is doing quite well according to the polls. If elections were held today, Jobbik most likely would have parliamentary representation. It is also possible that Jobbik will be able to send a person to the European Parliament, the unspeakable Krisztina Morvai. On the other hand, SZDSZ, representing the liberals who call Jobbik a nazi party, has very little support. As things now stand it's unlikely that the party will be represented in either the European or the Hungarian Parliament.
György Bolgár was asked by the Jobbik representative what he considers to be characteristics of the nazi ideology. Bolgár listed a few: racism, homophobia, chauvinism, xenophobia, militarism. Jobbik doesn't think that any of these characteristics apply to their beliefs. Racism? Oh no, they simply talk about "gypsy crime." Homophobia? Oh no, they just think that it is a sick minority whose freedom should be limited. Chauvinism? Oh no, they are simply patriotic and want to defend the country. Xenophobia? Oh no, they just want to defend the Hungarians against foreigners. Militarism? Oh no, they would like a conscript army where Hungarian youngsters would receive a "patriotic education."
Meanwhile, Gusztos and Fodor keep repeating that it would be an awful shame if the third largest party in Hungary were neo-nazi. I guess this is an appeal to the former liberal voters who turned their backs on SZDSZ to think before they vote.
I didn't intend to spend more time on this topic, but because a work written in Hungarian by Rózsa-Flores appeared in a far-right online paper today I thought that perhaps it might be useful to share some of its more salient points with English readers. The writing is entitled: "I have no machine gun" but if there is war there is war: A few quotes and I. This "last testament" is very long, and therefore I will focus on only those parts that I consider most revealing.
Rózsa-Flores opens with a quotation from Attila József (1905-1937), perhaps the most talented of all Hungarian poets. I should mention that Attila József committed suicide and to this day psychiatrists cannot quite decide whether he simply suffered from bouts of depression, whether he was a schizophrenic, or whether he had borderline personality disorder. In any case, at one point Attila József was a member of the illegal Hungarian communist party. He later became disillusioned. The poem Rózsa-Flores quotes here was written in 1927-28 when József was full of hatred towards the world around him. He wrote in "Medáliák" (Medallions): "I have no machine gun, stone or arrow,/I would like to kill as all of us do." After this introductionary quotation Rózsa-Flores continues: "One must kill, yes, kill, because for the rebuilding of the fatherland there must be mortar/And there is no better bond in the clay/In our fatherland's tortured soil/The blood of the enemy/As well as the blood of the hero." Then come two more quotations–one from the Hungarian romantic writer Mór Jókai and the other from the "Codex of the Samurais." In response Rózsa-Flores contemplates the day of victory when "we are the only ones left." But, he adds, this is not a good outcome because "for an elegant choreography we need an enemy."
Rózsa-Flores quotes Robert Schuller, the televangelist, who said that "tough times never last, but tough people do." That quotation seems to have inspired Rózsa-Flores to ask his followers to be hard and tough. Hard on the enemy. He praises war and "hates the silence of peace." If he didn't feel that way, he said, "I wouldn't stand here in the tropical heat, gun on my shoulder." (That pretty well tells me that Rózsa-Flores didn't go to Bolivia to do political work against Morales and the Bolivian left.) "I definitely don't like the quiet of peace because it is basely mendacious. After peace there will always be war and not the other way around. Peace is always a transitional period. It is good for gathering strength and learning. And the time always comes if we are expecting it. And then we must go and do what has to be done. And we must thank God that He counts on us and he chose us." The next quotation is from Sun Tzu's Art of War giving advice on how to proceed in really difficult situations on the battlefield. The message is that one ought to go forward even "in deadly circumstances." Rózsa-Flores's reaction: "We arrived on these deadly grounds. There is no place to retreat. To give up? Never! The only thing that remains is war."
He next cites two Hungarian sources: a stanza from the nineteenth-century poet János Arany and an excerpt from Géza Gárdonyi (1863-1922), a novelist. Both quotations deal with love of the fatherland. He continues: "This is an illness I never want to be cured of. Because who is that fool who during a love affair can think of anything else. The love of country is better and more than the love of a person because it is celestial, a gift of God, a wonderful fever even if it consumes us."
The next idea comes from "X," I assume an unnamed source: "We follow the eleventh commandment: smite your brethren before they smite thee." Rózsa-Flores continued: "My brethren? What brethren? His real name is base villainous foe!" Another man who obviously inspired Rózsa-Flores is Darren Shan who wrote: "We are foot soldiers in the power struggle of the worlds. We go where there is need for us and do what we must do. Everything else is secondary." Rózsa-Flores really liked this sentiment. "I cannot add anything to that," he said. "But by way of explanation: the shoemaker makes and repairs shoes, the baker bakes bread, etc. We are warriors of love, volunteers of freedom and soldiers of our fatherland. I don't know anything else. I don't even want to know anything else." He then quotes the St. Crispen's Day speech from Shakespeare's Henry V: "From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered, We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother." Rózsa-Flores adds: "I am filled with envy when I read these lines. So let's go! It's our time! One must only grasp the opportunity and we will be participants in the only and everlasting glory."
He also seems to have studied a Catholic poet who was a university student in Budapest at the end of the revolution and left Hungary for the west after its failure. The quotation is from István Keszei who remembered how he had felt himself to be an integral part of the nation for the first and perhaps the only time during the October 1956 revolution. Surely Rózsa-Flores in spite of his birth and death in Bolivia was a Hungarian nationalist: "What a beautiful thing to be a Hungarian, to live and die for the Fatherland. To become one with it, merge with it … and strengthen the process that will get rid of the filth and together reach the clouds, the skies to be able to see how our God smiles upon us, Hungarians."
He also quotes Paulo Coelho more than once. The Coelho passage (translated from the Hungarian) goes like this: "If you are strong, don't be ashamed to show yourself as weak. In this case your enemy will throw caution to the wind." Rózsa-Flores: "I can hardly wait for the attack of the enemy. I know them. They know only themselves. When we start our fighting song and when we show our shining faces they will be struck by fear…. We are the ones who must win this war. Why? Because our armor is the love of God and because we fight Evil. Our time has arrived." He quotes Douglas MacArthur twice and then Schopenhauer. In conclusion he points out that he is not the first who has expressed these thoughts and "therefore I know that I'm on the right path." His final quotation by way of a postscript is from Simonides of Ceos: "Stranger, bring the message to the Spartans that here/We remain, obedient to their orders."
Anyone can judge on the basis of this writing what Rózsa-Flores actually wanted in Bolivia, or Hungary for that matter.
I have spared you details of László Sólyom's recent boorish behavior, particularly at the time of the election of Gordon Bajnai as prime minister of Hungary. But since the Hungarian president's recent press conference serves to introduce the theme of the day, let me put it into context. Sólyom asked Bajnai to visit him in his residence; apparently the two men spent at least an hour and a half together. Sólyom was all smiles afterwards. It seems that he likes Bajnai a great deal more than Gyurcsány (whom he most likely loathes). Moreover, he unequivocally announced earlier that Bajnai and his government are legitimate and that he will work with the new prime minister. What he did after the meeting was less acceptable. During a long press conference he pretty well told the whole world what he demanded of the new prime minister. He had a long list of "requirements," among them keeping the current practice of three years of "gyermekgondozási díj," known by the acronym GYED. A woman who just gave birth to a child can quit her job and stay at home with the child for three years. The government will reimburse her at a rate of 70% of her former salary. A really good deal. There is also something called "gyermekgondozási segély" (GYES) that is 28,500 Ft per month per child. Again the woman is eligible to receive GYES for three years. Sólyom's reasoning was that there aren't enough children in Hungary and that the current practice increases the birth rate. Moreover, Sólyom wasn't sure whether it is a good idea for young children to be in nursery schools or in general to be "part of a community."
I'm no child psychologist, but as far as I know the only downside to well-run nursery schools and kindergartens is that kids get sick more often than they would if they stayed at home with mom. (And is this a downside for the children or for the parents who get sick more often than they would if the kids stayed at home with mom?) Anyway, prior to the change of regime Hungary was very well endowed with nursery schools and kindergartens. Unfortunately, most of these institutions have since closed. Moreover, women themselves would rather stay at home on GYES and GYED for years. In one sense this is a no-brainer. Who wouldn't on 70% of her former salary? But easy money comes at a price. In the case of professional women such a long hiatus from the work force puts them at an incredible disadvantage. But women with less demanding jobs also discover that returning to work can be difficult, and when they do get a job it is often at a much lower salary than what they earned prior to the birth of their child or children.
Given the current situation it is clear that something has to be done with GYES and GYED. According to the OECD Family Database Hungary spends three times as much on early child care in the form of assistance and monthly pay as the average of the well developed countries represented by OECD. Only 4% of Hungarian children under the age of three attend nursery schools; the European Union's desideratum is 30%. Hungary is the last among the European Union countries when it comes to employment of women with children under the age of two. The situation is not much better among women with children between the ages of three and five. In this category Hungary is second to last.
Moreover, there have been studies (András Gábos, Róbert Iván Gál and Gábor Kézdi, "Birth order of child-related benefits and pensions," 2009) showing that cash benefits didn't substantially raise the birth rate. According to the authors even if one doubled GYES and GYED the birth rate would climb only from 1.3 to 1.6 children per women. (And one has to ask what kind of women would have additional children to get extra cash.) Klára Dobrev, wife of former Prime Minister Gyurcsány, wrote an article in the December 2008 issue of Mozgó Világ in which she claimed that while thirty years ago the birth rate was higher in countries where mothers stayed at home today the opposite is true. But, she added, men have to assume a larger role in child rearing and more nursery schools and kindergartens are needed.
Yet Hungarians cling to the notion that mothers' long stay at home with the children boosts the birth rate. At least this was what Szonda Ipsos found last year. Twenty-five percent of the population think that mothers should stay home with their children for their first five years. In Hungary, because of the generosity of benefits and the scarcity of nursery schools and kindergartens, on average a Hungarian mother of one stays at home for four years; for a mother of two that period expands to six years.
Now that the government is contemplating a reduction in child rearing benefit coverage from three to two years, feminists (the few who exist in Hungary) and associations fighting for the rights of the family have united in a strange alliance. Almost twenty organizations protested against any change in the current benefit package. The protest can be read on www.babafalva.hu. According to Mária Adamik, a sociologist and director of the Gender Studies Center of ELTE, their "manifesto" is full of contradictions. On the one hand, there are feminist demands such as the right to employment, equal pay, equal responsibilities, more nursery schools and kindergartens, but at the same time there are other statements that point to a certain resignation that these demands will never materialize and therefore GYES and GYED should somehow compensate for the less than equal status of women.
Neither the manifesto of women's organizations nor President Sólyom's desire to pay to have more little Hungarians will likely deter the Hungarian government from reducing the expenses of an expensive program devised in the mid 1980s. Hungary couldn't afford it then and it cannot afford it now. Especially since it doesn't seem to make any substantial difference in the birth rate.
It didn't quite work out. The Bolivian police, under not entirely clear circumstances, killed three foreign "terrorists" and arrested two. The group is accused of plotting to assassinate Bolivian president Evo Morales. The Bolivian president is convinced that Washington is behind the assassination attempt, but this is highly unlikely given the cast of characters. Unfortunately, most of the news accounts that I read shed little light on the would-be assassins. What, they asked, was the common bond among the five men (names often misspelled) involved in the plot? Perhaps the Balkan wars where at least two of the five fought on Croatia's side against Serbia. My feeling is that Croatia and the Balkan wars have mighty little to do with this case.
The leader of the group, now dead, was Eduardo Rózsa-Flores. He was born in Bolivia but spent his teens and most of his adult life in Hungary. We can find ample information about him and his family on his blog "Sic Semper Tyrannus" (
), roughly translated as "Death to the Tyrant." His father, György Rózsa, was a painter and university professor who left Hungary in 1948 and married Nelly Flores Arias, a Spanish high school teacher. The couple settled in Bolivia, where Eduardo was born in 1960. In 1973 they moved to Chile, but the family left after Pinochet's military coup. For a couple of years they lived in Sweden as political refugees. In 1975 the Rózsa-Flores family moved to Hungary, where Eduardo attended a Budapest high school. He then spent three years at the country's military academy but left without graduating. Two years later he enrolled at ELTE, the Budapest university, from which he subsequently received an M.A. He was the last KISZ (Communist Youth Organization) secretary of ELTE. He later claimed that the only reason he took the job was to show that he could win the post against the wishes of people like Ferenc Gyurcsány. (I suspect that this is revisionist history.) After university he dabbled in journalism, taking advantage of his fluency in Spanish. For example, he wrote articles for La Vanguardia, a Spanish daily. He also supplied news to the BBC's Spanish language radio. He first reported from Croatia as a journalist but later volunteered to serve in the Croatian army. He fought in the battles of Osijek and Vukovár. The Croats appreciated his services and bestowed citizenship on him. President Franjo Tudjman promoted him to the military rank of major. A year later he became a colonel. He was wounded at least three times in different battles. In 1994 he returned to Hungary and published seven volumes of poetry. I didn't manage to find the seven volumes of poetry, but I did find five other books dealing mostly with the Croatian-Serbian war. During his stay in Croatia his name was associated with shady deals involving weapons and drug sales. According to rumors two journalists, one from Switzerland and another from Great Britain, who were investigating these transactions disappeared into thin air. In 2002 Ibolya Fekete made a documentary of his life, "Chico," that won first place in the documentary category at the Thirty-third Hungarian Film Festival. Next Tuesday MTV will air another documentary that is apparently the last testament of Rózsa-Flores. It was made in September before he embarked on his journey to Bolivia. One has to wonder how truthful these recollections are. Here, by the way, is a recent picture of Rózsa-Flores.
In 2003 he converted to Islam and called himself the spokesman for the Independent Iraqi Government, but that flirtation was short-lived and soon enough he showed up in Hungarian far-right circles. Yesterday the Jobbik website mourned his loss. "With deep sorrow we report that our friend and fellow editor, Eduardo Rózsa-Flores, passed away. He died for his country."
And this leads us to two other alleged co-conspirators. One is Árpád Magyarosi who is among the dead and the other is Előd Tóásó who is in Bolivian custody. Both are Transylvanian Hungarians who most likely knew each other for a long time because both attended high school in Sovata (Szováta) in Romania. After finishing high school both moved to Hungary. Magyarosi sounds like a real loser: he kept changing high schools and tried several colleges as well. He had musical ambitions with only scant talent. He organized several rock groups that all failed. And as we can see from this photo, Magyarosi's interests weren't confined to music. The other Transylvanian, Előd Tóásó, was another drifter who never managed to finish any of the colleges he attended. He too was interested in the military and attended the Miklós Zrínyi Military Academy for a while. He speaks Romanian, English, and Spanish in addition to Hungarian. Both men joined a group, founded in 2002, that purported to promote rock climbing, the Székely Légió (Legion Siculus). In 2006 the group became front page news in Hungarian papers because Ziua, a Bucharest daily, claimed that the Legion was a paramilitary organization planning attacks on Romania in order to establish an autonomous Hungarian (Szekler) area in the middle of Transylvania. The Romanian paper claimed that there were thousands enrolled in the Legion. The leaders of the Legion protested: it is an innocent organization that gives advice to young men and women interested in rock climbing. However, the Legion's internet website talked about survivor trips where the members carried heavy backpacks (20 kg) in addition to "weapons." They were schooled in marksmanship and the ability to detect mines. These don't sound like innocent rock climbing activities.
The third man who died in the raid is an Irishman called Michael Martin Dwyer who was apparently obsessed by weapons and who is described as a "soldier of fortune," a man obsessed with guns and assassins. According to accounts, he served as a mercenary in the Balkan wars. Rózsa-Flores who is described as the head of the group, might have met Dwyer in Croatia. I found this picture of Dwyer on the internet. As you can see, he is obsessed all right.
And now comes the real bombshell. There is a periodical called Kapu (Gate)
The last issue can be downloaded in pdf form. Real right-wing stuff. Rózsa-Flores was an important contributor and a good friend of the editor-in-chief, Zoltán Brády. Brády, after hearing of his friend's death, told MTI (Magyar Távirati Iroda) that it was Rózsa-Flores and he who were responsible for leaking Ferenc Gyurcsány's infamous speech at Balatonőszöd! He didn't reveal from whom they received the transcript or to whom they passed it on. Maybe yes, maybe no. In any case it is intriguing.
Meanwhile Rózsa-Flores, Árpád Magyarosi, and Michael Martin Dwyer are dead. These guys all seemed to be well versed in guerilla warfare. The Hungarian crew, at least, was also involved in far-right activities. Why they went to Bolivia I don't know, but perhaps it's a good thing they went there. The plot was foiled. Can you imagine if they decided to kill, for example, the Hungarian prime minister or the president? I think they would have been capable of it. The Hungarian far right is convinced that there is a communist dictatorship in Hungary and, after all, "sic semper tyrannis."