There is no question that a kind of restoration of the Horthy regime is under way in Hungary. That regime (1919-1945) considered itself “counterrevolutionary, Christian, and national”; Viktor Orbán made it eminently clear that his own regime, the result of a revolution in the voting booths, is “right-wing, Christian, and national.” And when this regime wants to wipe out Hungarian history between March 19, 1944 and October 23, 1989, one cannot be terribly surprised that nostalgia for the “good old days” is growing. This is especially strange from people whose ancestors didn't exactly prosper in those days. For example, Viktor Orbán’s grandfather was so poor that he couldn’t afford a train ticket to Budapest when as an unemployed youngster he was seeking employment in the capital. He walked. László Kövér’s grandfather and great grandfathers as old social democrats had a very hard time in Horthy’s Hungary.
We have already talked about the renaming of streets, the ball organized to raise funds for a Horthy statue, and the hideous life-size wooden Horthy statue erected in a small village. Lately a marble plaque from the Hungarian Reformed Gymnasium of Debrecen, which was removed in 1947, has now been returned to its original place. Because Miklós Horthy attended a naval academy in the Austrian part of the Dual Monarchy, he spent only two years at the gymnasium when he was 11 and 12.
I told the story of Gyömrő’s decision to change the name of the main square from Szabadság (Freedom) to Horthy. Because of the upheaval the city council decided to ask a historian, the highly regarded Ignác Romsics, to give a lecture for all those citizens of Gyömrő who were eager to learn something about the former governor of the Kingdom of Hungary. If the city fathers were hoping to get ammunition for their decision from Romsics, they had to be disappointed. Romsics painted a balanced picture of Horthy, including all the warts. The upshot of his talk was that viewing Horthy as a historical figure to be admired and revered is a mistake.
Given the growing Horthy cult it is not surprising that a biography of Horthy appeared written by Dávid Turbucz, a young Ph.D. candidate who had earlier written a number of articles dealing with Horthy. At least two of them are available on the Internet. One about the Horthy cult in the late 1920s and another on the media hype on the twentieth anniversary of his governorship.
In addition, I happen to have another article by Turbucz ("A Horthy-kultusz kezdetei") in the 2009/4 issue of Múltunk. I found this article especially interesting because it deals with the Miklós Horthy of the 1919-1921 period. It describes the techniques by which Horthy’s closest supporters burnished Horthy's image and thus laid the groundwork for the later full-blown Horthy cult.
Some right-wing journalists and politicians look upon Turbucz’s book as a revision of the Horthy portrait that was completely distorted by Marxist historians. But only people unfamiliar with Hungarian historiography would believe that assessment because by the early 1980s a fairly balanced portrait emerged. Turbucz’s professors and mentors were Ignác Romsics and Péter Sipos, both active prior to 1989.
Naturally, one can always find new details about Horthy’s role in the history of Hungary’s interwar period, but there is agreement on the overall assessment of the man. He started off as a right radical who agreed with the hot-heads around him and who shielded the murderers of approximately 1,000 people after the fall of the Hungarian Soviet Republic. Not even his supporters tried to deny his responsibility in the white terror; they only attempted to minimize it. Although no one ever found an order written by Horthy to the counterrevolutionaries sweeping across Transdanubia, there is plenty of evidence that he knew about their activities. According to Pál Prónay, one of the terrorists, he even encouraged them.
But then after he became governor, especially after 1922, under the influence of the conservative István Bethlen, he abandoned his old friends. However, one has the suspicion after reading a few books and articles on the subject, including Turbucz’s, that his heart remained with the radicals. His anti-communist sentiments were so strong that he could completely lose his head and act against the interests of the country. When the news came from the military leaders that Soviet planes had attacked Kassa/Košice, it never occurred to him that "it was not in the Soviet Union’s interest to attack a Hungarian city." He didn’t even discuss the matter with László Bárdossy, the prime minister. According to Bárdossy, he told Horthy about Molotov’s letter in which he even promised support of certain revisionist claims if Hungary didn’t join the German forces, but it didn’t impress Horthy. Most likely he didn’t believe promises made by communists.
Horthy’s role in Hungary’s entrance into the war without German request or pressure was one of the great mistakes of the final years of his governorship. The other was that he remained in office after the German occupation of Hungary on March 19, 1944. On March 15, Horthy received an invitation from Hitler for a meeting in Kleissheim. Prime Minister Miklós Kállay didn’t want him to go, but the military so close to his heart advised him otherwise. First, he resisted Hitler’s demands but eventually he gave in to all of the Führer’s wishes, including his staying in office. He explained that he "cannot resign because he took an oath that he would not abandon his country in its difficult times. He is still a mariner who doesn’t leave the sinking ship." Turbucz adds that the personality of Horthy didn’t get deformed as much as those of Hitler or Stalin, but the cult of personality left its mark on him.
By remaining in office he witnessed the deportation of about 600,000 Hungarian Jews and stopped the deportations only on July 6. By that time the Allies had landed in Normandy and the Russian troops were fairly close to the Hungarian borders. His later attempt to leave the German allies was a fiasco. It was poorly prepared and his beloved soldiers abandoned him.
Horthy and his family were taken to Germany where they were housed in an elegant baroque castle, albeit surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Eventually he was arrested by the Americans where he was interrogated by Andor Sziklay (A. C. Klay), a Hungarian working for the American secret service. In 1993 the notes of these conversations were published in Hungarian and they are telling. First and foremost, he was incapable of self-criticism and blamed everybody else. He kept repeating that events couldn’t have unfolded in any other way. He idealized the history of Hungary prior to 1918 and blamed Trianon for absolutely everything that happened afterward. He kept writing letters to Winston Churchill, Harry S. Truman, and Ernest Bevin and whomever he could think of in which he acted as if he were still the governor of Hungary. In one of these letters he even went so far as to claim that he did "everything in his power to save the country from the horrors of war." Quite a bit of exaggeration, adds Turbucz.
Turbucz, echoing many other historians, is certain that it was Stalin who saved Horthy from ending up a war criminal. Mátyás Rákosi, secretary of the Hungarian Communist party, agreed with Stalin. They didn’t want to make a martyr out of him. As a result, he had to appear only as a witness at Nuremberg. During the questioning Horthy often claimed memory lapses, especially when it came to the so-called "Jewish laws" and an early 1941 deportation of about 15,000 Jews.
Finally, Turbucz spends a few pages on the anti-Horthy cult that took hold after 1945. In the 1950s the Horthy regime was described as fascist and Horthy as a dictator. Of course, this wasn’t the case, but the Horthy regime remains a system Viktor Orbán wants to establish in Hungary: a quasi-democracy where one party with overwhelming representation in parliament and without much interference from a very weak opposition runs the show. No wonder that Orbán feels a certain affinity to the regime and the man after whom it is named.
Hungarian political life nowadays is full of the suspicion that with the victory of the second Orbán government the “oligarchs” have arrived in Hungary. Until recently we used the term in connection with the fabulously rich businessmen of Russia whose wealth mostly or entirely came from government contracts and whose fortunes were closely tied to the regime of Vladimir Putin. But lately the word “oligarch” appears even in parliamentary debates. For example, Gergely Karácsony accused Viktor Orbán of relying on the favors of the oligarchs who in return have considerable influence on the policies of the government.
Viktor Orbán naturally rejected any such comparison of his own coterie of wealthy businessmen to the Russian oligarchs. According to him, in Hungary there are only wealthy businessmen whom the country badly needs.
It has been patently obvious in the last two years that the Orbán government has greatly favored Hungarian capitalists, often at the expense of multi-national companies. Even if for the consumer the end result was higher prices. But it seems that certain Hungarian companies are more favored than others. The best example is Közgép, a company that I already wrote about a month ago in a post entitled “Where do European Union subsidies land, the role of Lajos Simicska.” I assume that by now no observant reader will be surprised to learn that Lajos Simicska is a very close, practically childhood friend of Viktor Orbán. They attended the same high school and both ended up in the same law school and in the same dormitory.
Viktor Orbán was apparently very impressed with Simicska’s business sense. He called him a financial genius. After 1990 it was Simicska who handled Fidesz’s finances. It was he who decided to invest the money the party accumulated as a result of selling their share of a very valuable piece of property donated by the Antall government for the use of party headquarters. Some of his investments were profitable, and the ones that weren't were “sold” to bogus buyers who couldn’t be traced. Thus, the debts and taxes these firms owed couldn’t be collected. He is a financial genius all right. Some might call a man like Simicska a crook.
Little is known about the current relationship between Simicska and Fidesz. Simicska doesn’t like the public and especially hates the media. He is camera shy. Newspapers cannot get a recent photo of him. But in the background he is busy, and investigative journalists are diligently trying to collect information about his activities. According to Index, Közgép is actually a conglomerate of nineteen different companies. Magyar Narancs managed to collect a list of contracts the Orbán government signed with Simicska’s firm and came to the conclusion that these jobs exceeded 200 billion forints or 570 million euros. And since then there was another successful bid for 40 billion.
According to János Veres, minister of finance in the Gyurcsány government, such domination by one firm didn’t exist during his tenure. Even if one adds up the contracts of the top eight companies receiving government contracts, altogether they received less than Közgép alone. Apparently, unless an entrepreneur is ready to be subcontractor for Közgép, he can forget about ever receiving a penny’s worth of government contracts. Veres knows people who willingly sell 51% of their business to Közgép or someone close to the Orbán government because otherwise it will go bankrupt.
Ferenc Gyurcsány’s Demokratikus Koalíció decided to act and turned to the European Anti-Fraud Office (OLAF) to call attention to what’s going on in Hungary. In his letter to the director of the office Gyurcsány wrote that “Lajos Simicska is the most notorious and most influential person in Fidesz and the business establishment built around it.”
Gyurcsány also noted that several former high-level employees of Közgép have moved over to government positions from which the firm’s fortunes can be influenced. One man became the head of the Agency of National Development (Nemzeti Fejlesztési Ügynökség) and another is now undersecretary in charge of transport in the Ministry of National Development. It is this ministry, by the way, that is in charge of the distribution of European Union subsidies. László Varju, the party director of DK, in his press conference talked about the need to investigate the possible “role of [Közgép] in the financing of the government party.”
Less than a month after this press conference HVG learned that the European Anti-Fraud Office was already investigating Közgép. Whether their arrival in Hungary had anything to do with Gyurcsány’s letter cannot be ascertained. It is possible that the officials of OLAF found some of Közgép’s projects suspicious on their own. There are a lot of employees at OLAF who keep their eyes on current projects in the European Union. Five hundred all told.
And yet Viktor Orbán doesn’t seem to be a bit worried. It was only three days ago that Simicska’s Közgép received another government job to the tune of 39 billion forints. He doesn’t seem to be worried either about the spreading conviction that a good portion of Közgép’s fabulous profits might actually go to Fidesz. Yesterday he announced to the party’s top leadership that he was thinking about taking away the money each party, depending on its size, receives from the government. After all, the Hungarian economy is in bad straits and everybody must sacrifice. The parties too. Therefore, one ought to consider depriving the parties of the sums they are entitled to by law for the years 2013 and 2014.
If one didn't have to spend money on parties... Then one wouldn't need to on elections either!
This is practically an admission that Fidesz doesn’t need government assistance. It has plenty of money from other sources while those parties not having Simicskas behind them would be financially strapped and unable to carry on with their activities. As a cartoon in today’s Népszava pointed out, taking away the subsidies that even as it stands are not enough for an election campaign would deprive the other parties of having any chance of success whatsoever at the next elections. The caption doesn’t exaggerate when it indicates that this would be the end of free elections in Hungary.
By now opposition politicians openly accuse of Közgép of being a front for Fidesz. Gábor Scheiring (LMP) said that “the essence of Lajos Simicska’s firm … is financing Fidesz from its profits.” The money, Scheiring suspects, doesn’t go directly to the party but to television stations, newspapers, and institutes close to the party. I agree with Scheiring but I think money goes straight to Fidesz as well; it just takes a little detour on its way there.
On February 7, 2009, a fight broke out in a Veszprém disco. Present were some star members of the local handball team. In the end, one of the players, Marian Cozma, also a member of the Romanian national team, was dead and two others were seriously wounded. It turned out that a group of Gypsies was responsible for the crime. Anti-Roma sentiments, always strong in Hungary, were inflamed. The description of the events as recorded a day after the event can be read on Hungarian Spectrum.
Soon enough the Austrian and the Hungarian police rounded up the suspects and in due course three of the chief suspects received harsh sentences. Iván Sztojka got twenty years; Sándor Raffael and Győző Németh, life.
Cases in Hungary are automatically reviewed by appellate courts. On April 27, 2012, the Itélőtábla of Győr (the Hungarian name of the appellate courts) had to make its final decision on the cases of these three men. And to many people’s chagrin Judge Zoltán Nagy lessened their jail terms. Sztojka instead of twenty years in a penitentiary received only eight years, while the other two received eighteen years each instead of life sentences.
Soon enough a Jobbik member of parliament, Ádám Mirkóczki, addressed a question to the prime minister concerning the verdict of Judge Zoltán Nagy. What kind of message is conveyed to the general public by these, in his opinion, far too light sentences? After all, a world-renowned sportsman was killed. According to Mirkóczki, members of the profession—I guess members of the judiciary, the world of sports, and all men of good will are outraged. “Only the murderers are satisfied.” In his opinion this case clearly indicates what’s wrong with the Hungarian judiciary today.
Viktor Orbán answered him in a way which in my opinion was inappropriate. He told the Jobbik MP that he agreed with his assessment and wished he could share his opinion with him in private but he cannot do so in public. After all, if he criticized the verdict he would give the impression that the government wanted to pressure the judiciary which is supposed to be independent.
That was bad enough, but what came afterwards was really outlandish. A day later, on May 15, Tibor Navracsics, minister of justice and administration, wrote a letter to Péter Darák, the new chief justice of the highest Hungarian court, the Kúria. Navracsics complained about the verdict, which upset public opinion. Navracsics asked Darák “to study the possibility of reviewing judicial practice.” Navracsics in fact repeated his opinion on the matter on the local TV station of Veszprém, Navracsics’s hometown.
Navracsics in this television interview told the audience that naturally he cannot influence the verdict itself. He simply wanted to know “the chief justice’s professional opinion on the practice of the Hungarian judiciary which doesn’t show the severity the public expects.”
If we think about this just a little we must shudder at the very suggestion. First, the minister of justice is putting pressure on the justices, demanding more severe sentencing. Second, Navracsics here suggests that judges should mete out sentences not according to the Criminal Code but should adjust their verdicts to public expectation. If we took this seriously, Hungary would, as Jobbik actually has been demanding, re-introduce capital punishment. After all, this is most likely what the majority of Hungarians would like to see. But for that Hungary would first have to leave the European Union.
Three days later Tibor Navracsics received letters from the Hungarian Helsinki Committee and TASZ (Társaság a Szabadságjogokért), the Hungarian version of the American Civil Liberties Union. According to the Hungarian Helsinki Committee, “it is difficult not to interpret [Navracsics’s letter] in any other way but an attempt of putting government pressure on the members of the judiciary.”
The Hungarian Helsinki Committee very rightly pointed out the incongruity of such a letter from someone who for years taught at a law school. Of course, we ought to keep in mind that Navracsics, although he finished law school, didn’t teach law but political science to law students.
Navracsics felt compelled to answer the Helsinki Committee’s letter on the same day. He emphasized that he as the minister of justice is responsible for the operation of the Hungarian judiciary and if “he perceives deficiencies it is his moral duty to indicate them to the person whose responsibility it is to safeguard the uniformity of judiciary practices, and that person is the chief justice of the Kúria.”
Here I would like to remind readers that the Kúria is simply the new/old name of the Supreme Court. This highest court in Hungary was called the Kúria until 1949 when, following the Soviet model, it was reorganized and named “Legfelsőbb Bíróság.” With the new/old name came a new chief Justice, Péter Darák who, most people suspected, was picked because of his good connections to Fidesz.
Darák showed remarkable independence today, however. He wrote a very polite letter in which he emphasized that "the Kúria finds the raising of such a subject unfortunate because it gives the impression that the Kúria has instruments or competence to interfere with the decisions of the lower courts when this is clearly not the case as it shouldn’t be in a constitutional state." If the Kúria interfered it would violate the theory of judicial independence.
This letter indicates to me that the Hungarian judges are still jealously defending their independence and that intimidation has thus far been ineffectual. Let’s hope this remains the case. However, the Orbán government is resourceful and is able to change laws at will retroactively which can tie the hands of the judges. So, I’m not terribly optimistic.
It’s time again for the monthly opinion polls on the popularity of the parties. Ipsos is usually the first one out of the gate, and it announced its findings yesterday. There are some interesting changes, not so much in the standings of the parties but in the continuing growth of undecided voters--from 51 to 54 percent. This is really staggering. More than half of the voting population doesn’t have a party preference. Because of this situation, any prediction for the future on the basis of today's results is fairly meaningless.
Pollsters usually distinguish between the results of all those sampled and the results of those who say that they would participate in an election if it were held on the Sunday after the poll was taken. According to experts, years before the next elections only the results for the whole adult population are reliable. Or at least they are more reliable than those for the eager voters who claim they would definitely rush to the election booths next Sunday. And the former figures don’t bode well for Fidesz. Fidesz still leads, but only marginally. The difference between Fidesz and MSZP is only 4 percentage points.
It is worth taking a look at the Ipsos results in the last two years. MSZP’s popularity has barely moved. In May 2010 it stood at 11% and today it is 12%. But what happened to Fidesz? In May 2010 Fidesz had a commanding lead: 42% of all voters would have voted for Fidesz. This figure today is 16%. Jobbik would receive 9% today, and the other two democratic parties, LMP and DK, would receive 4% and 2% respectively.
Among those in the sample who would definitely vote, in May 2010 62% would have chosen Fidesz and only 20% MSZP. In this category too Fidesz losses are substantial. Today only 37% of the Fidesz loyalists would vote for Viktor Orbán’s party. At the same time MSZP supporters got somewhat energized. Their percentage increased from 20% to 28%. Jobbik would get 19% of the votes, LMP 8% and DK 4%.
What does this 16% for Fidesz among the adult population mean in actual numbers? According to Ipsos it indicates approximately 1.3 million supporters, a figure that is considered to be very low for Fidesz. Ipsos doesn’t exclude the possibility of further losses but mentions that the core supporters of Fidesz are a very committed and cohesive bunch. 95% of these 1.3 million people voted for Fidesz in 2010. Among these people Viktor Orbán is still extremely popular: he received 85 points out of a possible 100 in this group.
Finally, there is another telling point of the Ipsos study: 62% of all eligible Fidesz voters under no circumstances would vote for MSZP while only 10% would reject Jobbik altogether. Although about 75% of the population think that Hungary is heading in the wrong direction, 62% of the hardcore Fidesz voters are satisfied with the performance and achievements of the Orbán government.
Here are a few points not mentioned by Ipsos. If we add MSZP’s 12%, LMP’s 4% and DK’s 2% their combined strength is a bit higher than that of Fidesz. Among the active participants the situation is about the same. However, and that is a big however, there are the Jobbik supporters. Most analysts think that the currently large undecided body of voters is unlikely to vote in great numbers for Jobbik and thus eventually, especially if the democratic parties can join forces, an election victory in 2014 is possible.
Don't conflate possible with likely. So far there is no sign of cooperation among the three democratic parties: MSZP, LMP, and DK. A good example is Sunday’s by-election in Dunaújváros. One must keep in mind that Dunaújváros, once called Sztálinváros and built between 1951 and 1961 as an industrial city, used to be an MSZP stronghold. Until 2010 the mayor was always a socialist. In 2010 there was a Fidesz sweep and currently there are only 2 MSZP city council members.
So, what happened? In February one of the Fidesz members of the city council died. Hence the election for his seat. Total apathy reigned in Dunaújváros on Sunday. Out of the 5,034 voters only 998 (19.82%) actually voted. The Fidesz candidate received 408 votes, the MSZP man 275, LMP’s representative 174 and Jobbik 75. In addition, there was an independent candidate who got 66 votes. If LMP and MSZP had agreed on one candidate they might have won the election with 449 votes.
But here is another example: the by-election in Miskolc in April. Fidesz’s candidate won with 1055 votes while his MSZP opponent received 1029 votes. Under the circumstances a great showing for MSZP. But there was LMP’s man who received 62 votes. Again, if LMP hadn't split the democratic left's vote Fidesz wouldn't have won.
I wonder when they will see the light.
I guess it is time to say something about Ferenc Gyurcsány’s senior paper. Some of the readers of Hungarian Spectrum reproached me for not bringing up the subject as soon as HírTV, a right-wing television station, leveled the charge of plagiarism against him. They especially objected to the fact that I wrote about the plagiarized doctoral dissertation of President Pál Schmitt immediately after HVG published the details.
Yes, I did, but I thought that in that case there was no question that Schmitt plagiarized. The proof was right there in front of our eyes. HVG’s journalists did a fantastic job of making sure that the paper’s revelations were based on facts. I could compare the French and Hungarian texts and I was convinced. I therefore felt that I could write about it and take a definite position: no question, this is plagiarism.
On the other hand, I decided not to deal with HírTV’s accusations because the television station, unlike HVG, couldn’t produce any proof. The only thing they did was to raise suspicion.
In addition, there were other disturbing factors that made me cautious. The whole affair began with an April 2 article in Pécsi Újság, a local right-wing Internet paper, according to which “rumors are spreading in Pécs that something is not quite right with Gyurcsány’s senior paper.” The first claim was that Gyurcsány, as KISZ secretary of the college, didn’t even write a senior paper. After all, KISZ secretaries were in a privileged position and the “comrades” could pretty much do whatever they wanted.
A few hours later this local news reappeared in the nationwide Magyar Hírlap, a far-right publication. At this point Gyurcsány showed the appropriate page of his transcript (leckekönyv/index) where one could see the title of his senior essay and the grade of B (jó = 4) he received for his effort. He also gave details about the senior paper he wrote six years later in 1990 when he received a second degree in economics.
One would have thought that the whole controversy surrounding his senior essay was over. After all, he showed that he wrote not one but two. And, indeed, for about two weeks there was no new development except that the dean of the faculty of sciences at Pécs University told Pécsi Újság that Gyurcsány’s senior essay had disappeared from the university’s archives. What complicated the case was that Gyurcsány couldn’t find his own copy. After all, almost thirty years had gone by. Moreover, as it turned out, Gyurcsány didn’t have the best educational experience at the teacher’s college in Pécs and most likely didn’t particularly care whether he kept a copy of that senior paper or not.
Then, on April 27, Magyar Nemzet mysteriously announced that “Friday night a lot can be learned about Gyurcsány’s senior essay.” And, as promised, HírTV’s “Célpont” (Target) aired the results of the investigative work of the program’s journalists. They contended that the title of Gyurcsány’s senior paper was identical to that of Zsolt Rozs’s paper written four years earlier. Rozs at that time was Gyurcsány’s brother-in-law.
At this point Gyurcsány made some contradictory statements. First, he expressed surprise that Rozs had written about the same topic. Later, he said that it was possible that he read the senior paper because at this point in his life he was often a guest in his parents-in-law’s house. Suspicion grew.
Two days later, on April 29, HírTV was certain that Gyurcsány's senior paper which, according to them, was only 35 pages long, was no more than a verbatim copy of the first 35 pages of the brother-in-law’s senior paper. But how could they be certain when neither the brother-in-law’s nor Gyurcsány’s senior papers was available? The answer was that they reconstructed them on the basis of the reader’s comments on Gyurcsány’s paper and the “working copy”—whatever that is—of the brother-in-law’s paper. The station's alleged proof didn’t convince a lot of people.
But the controversy didn’t want to subside. Gyurcsány realized that this was a serious business and by May 1 he outright called Zsolt Rozs and Rozs's mother liars. He decided to ask for a police investigation into the disappearance of his senior paper from the University of Pécs. Even liberal publications, for example Magyar Narancs and ÉS, decided not to stand by him.
At this point, the university began investigating the disappearance of Gyurcsány’s senior essay. HírTV was obviously not quite satisfied with the results of their investigations and they kept collecting more information about Gyurcsány the student in 1984. They found a retired principal from an elementary school who claimed that Gyurcsány hadn't completed his compulsory teaching exercises. According to the principal, Gyurcsány as a KISZ secretary was too busy and he simply skipped these duties.
A few days later it turned out that the principal who, according to my relatives in Pécs, is a stroke victim didn’t even know that he was talking to journalists. He had no idea that the conversation was being captured by a hidden camera, and he was greatly surprised when he saw himself on HírTV’s “Célpont” on Friday, May 4. He claimed later that the journalists misinterpreted what he said. He certainly didn’t give permission to skip the exercises which, according to him, Gyurcsány finished in due course. Again, Gyurcsány had to show his transcript to prove that this particular accusation was also false.
A few days later Magyar Nemzet “received a document that proves that a fellow party member, Dezső Rizner, was his senior adviser.” This accusation is rather funny considering that in those days there was only one party in Hungary. But what is even worse, it turned out that the document was bogus because Gyurcsány’s senior adviser was Mrs. József Scherdán.
Then ATV began to investigate in Pécs and found that it was common to have senior papers written on the same topics. Not only in Pécs but even at the prestigious Karl Marx (Corvinus) University.
On May 9 new accusations surfaced. According to Magyar Nemzet, a former professor claimed that he was teaching a compulsory subject but “he doesn’t remember Gyurcsány” from those days. Implication being, Gyurcsány, the KISZ secretary, skipped this examination too. In addition, Heti Válasz dredged up an old interview with Gyurcsány in which he allegedly claimed that after finishing teacher’s college in 1984 he didn’t take an entrance examination before entering the University of Pécs as a student of economics.
Again, Gyurcsány had to show that he attended the compulsory courses and received a grade of B. As for the entrance examination, Heti Válasz’s knowledge of academic rules and regulations was not quite complete. In those days students acquiring a second degree didn’t have to take a full-fledged entrance exam. The applicant only had to appear for a conversation (felvételi elbeszélgetés).
Meanwhile the investigation into the disappearance of the senior paper at the University of Pécs continued. On May 15 the university released its findings. Gyurcsány’s senior paper disappeared sometime between 1990 and 2000. There is proof that in 1990 it was still there but in 2000 it was missing. The final verdict was that the charge of plagiarism can be neither proved nor disapproved until the senior paper surfaces. On the basis of the comments there seem to be some overlap, but “these are general topics and plagiarism cannot be established.” Otherwise, Gyurcsány completed all the necessary exams and entered the department of economics with ministerial permission, as was then and is now a requirement.
So, this is where we stand. Well, not quite. Gabriella Selmeczi, spokeswoman of Fidesz, has come to the conclusion that Gyurcsány himself stole his own senior paper because he was the only one he knew before 2000 that he would enter politics. So, here we go again.
Yesterday I wrote about the Hungarian government’s attempt to change Hungary's image in the United States which at present is anything but positive. The Orbán government hired a public relations firm from Boston with offices in Washington, Rasky Baerlein Strategic Communications, to try to convince the American government, the journalists of leading American newspapers, and the American public in general that Hungary is a shining example of true democracy and not a country heading toward authoritarianism at best, dictatorship at worst.
I concluded yesterday's post with the following sentences: “Rasky Baerlein will have a very difficult time changing this [negative] perception. They would need Viktor Orbán’s cooperation, which is unlikely.” But even I didn’t think that, after committing to spend $45,000 a month for image building, Viktor Orbán and his cohorts would promptly act to strengthen the already firmly held belief in the United States that something is very wrong with Hungarian democracy.
It is customary in Orbán’s parliament to discuss key pieces of legislation in the dead of night. Orbán is in a great hurry to remake Hungary and therefore every piece of legislation is pushed through with the greatest speed. The members of parliament, for example, didn’t even have a chance to read a proposal introduced late Friday night when the discussion of that bill was scheduled for Monday morning. One of the important bills scheduled to be discussed yesterday involved changes in the media law.
The original version of the media law was passed in December 2010 in spite of European Union objections. But the Hungarian Constitutional Court—even after it was enlarged with government appointees—found the law, as amended slightly at the insistence of the EU, to be unconstitutional. Therefore, parliament had to take up a revised bill which was hurriedly sent to Brussels to show that the needed changes were included in the new bill.
But the Orbán government specializes in trickery. The bill that will eventually pass most likely will not even vaguely resemble the one the officials of the European Union will read. In the middle of the night a Fidesz back bencher, Csaba Szabó, came up with “his own” amendments. They were long and obviously written by legal experts, not the poor MP who never went to college and until 2010 was the mayor of a village of 387 inhabitants. There were six different proposals in these amendments that would make the media law even more objectionable from the point of view of media freedom. Hungary has already been demoted by Freedom House to “semi-free” status, and I’m certain that this new media law would not help the situation.
Perhaps the most outrageous amendment of Csaba Szabó touched on the fate of Klubrádió. I've written several times about Klubrádió which, although it is just a local FM station serving Budapest, has become world famous because of its persecution by the Hungarian government. Klubrádió is an opposition radio station, mind you the only one in Hungary, that Viktor Orbán wants to destroy. The last time I wrote about Klubrádió was on March 17: “Klubrádió and the Hungarian judiciary: Two cases, two wins.” That was the good news.
What has happened since? The Media Authority accepted the court's decision to disallow the winner of the 95.3 MHz frequency on a technicality but has made no decision about what to do with this frequency. It's been taking its sweet time, claiming that its lawyers had to wait for certain papers to be returned to them. It has shown no inclination to award the frequency to Klubrádió, the runner-up.
In the meantime, Klubrádió looked forward to moving over to the frequency it won in the second case since this frequency, 92.9 MHz, was reserved for public interest radio and was therefore free. (Klubrádió has to pay an annual 50 million forint fee for the 95.3 frequency it currently operates on a temporary basis.)
Klubrádió once proudly displayed their spreading broadcasting
What would Szabó’s amendments do? Among other things, retroactively change the status of the 92.9 MHz frequency from a public service station to a commercial station with a 45 million forint yearly fee. That seemed to be a financial punishment for the station. Not good news, but it would still allow Klubrádió to be on the air.
According to members of parliament, however, Szabó’s amendments didn’t conform to the House rules. Amendments can be introduced only to sections that were part of the original bill or at least are closely related to them. Szabó’s amendments didn’t speak to the essence of the original bill. Even László L. Simon (Fidesz), the chairman of the parliamentary committee on culture and the media, asked for an explanation from Szabó in support of his amendments. Not surprisingly, Szabó couldn’t oblige because, his colleagues suspect, he didn’t even read them.
Since it seemed that these amendments would not pass muster, Szabó withdrew them. In their place Erzsébet Menczer (Fidesz), one of the original sponsors of the media law, submitted new amendments that dim Klubrádió’s prospects of ever obtaining a license on any frequency. According to the pertinent Menczer amendment, if the Media Authority didn’t change the status of a media outlet from commercial to public before it applied for a frequency, the station cannot have a contract even if it is willing to pay the fee. In this way Klubrádió couldn’t broadcast on the 92.9 MHz frequency--period. The amendment would also immediate end temporary licensing, a practice that allowed Klubrádió to remain on the air in the last year or so.
So, this is where we stand right now. When Klubrádió's temporary license expires, if the Media Council doesn't award it the frequency it will be off the air. This democratic government of Hungary can’t allow even a single local radio station to be critical of the government.
The far-right Jobbik was pleased to support the Fidesz proposal and Gábor Vona, head of the Jobbik caucus, announced that once they are in power they will close ATV, the only opposition television station, as well. Nice prospects.
What I can’t understand is why Fidesz is so afraid of a radio station that now has only about half a million listeners. As you can see from the picture, Klubrádió used to have a number of frequencies covering Veszprém, Gyöngyös, Budapest, Esztergom, Debrecen, Ajka, and Tatabánya. As far as I know it's lost all of them since 2010, with the exception of Budapest and Debrecen.
Good luck, Rasky Baerlein Strategic Communications! Viktor Orbán is really helping your cause.
The Orbán government is slowly becoming aware that its reputation in the western regions of Europe and in North America has been shattered thanks to the erratic behavior of the prime minister and the “unorthodox” economic policies of György Matolcsy. The combined result is mistrust of the Hungarian government by politicians and businessmen alike.
The government naturally doesn’t like to broadcast how much money it spends on touting the government’s alleged achievements. Hungarian papers usually get their information from the foreign press. And because PR firms promote themselves as well as their clients, they often brag about bigger and more important business deals.
This is how Politico Influence found out that Rasky Baerlein Strategic Communications signed up Hungary. According to the write-up, “Hungary is increasing its Washington footprint, looking to make sure that the U.S. continues to see the importance of Eastern Europe." Well, that is not the real reason, let’s face it. Zoltán Kovács, undersecretary for international communication, in a somewhat awkward English sentence told Politico Influence that “the messages the Hungarian government is sending out about its system are being interpreted in a way that are in need of a professional team to accurately communicate them.”
Public Relations Network (flckr/sympra)
What will the five-member team at Rasky Baerlein do for its monthly $45,000 fee to help the Orbán government’s image? The task will include “everything from engaging in radio and TV broadcasts to website and social media strategy, as well as press releases, pamphlets, letters and lectures.” The team will be headed by Shawn Sullivan, senior vice president, who seems to have extensive contacts with the State Department. According to Sullivan the Hungarians “just want to make sure their voices are heard among everyone else who competes for attention in Washington.” The team also includes David Tamasi, who manages Rasky Baerlein’s Washington office. Judging from his name, Tamasi may have Hungarian connections, which could have had something to with Hungary’s choice of a firm headquartered in Boston. Tamasi received his B.A. from Gettysburg College and an M.A. in journalism from Boston University.
Rasky Baerlein began its public relations activities in the Boston area. For example, they represent the Red Sox, and the Massachusetts Advocates for the Arts, Sciences, and Humanities recently announced that it had retained the firm as public affairs and strategic advisors. But what does the firm really do? It is quite clear that Rasky Baerlein is supposed to lobby for the Massachusetts Advocates. As their executive director said, “every significant industry in Massachusetts retains professional lobbyists.” But even the Washington office often deals with less illustrious clients than the Hungarian government. A few months ago the National Flea Market Association hired Rasky Baerlein "to organize its lobbying and outreach initiatives." David Tamasi was delighted to have the flea marketers because his firm is "a full-service public affairs firm, we do lobbying, and we do PR. This is something that is right in our bailiwick."
Rasky Baerlein Strategic Communications was founded in 1997. According to their own promo the firm has received several awards--the “Small PR Agency of the Year 2010” and the “Public Affairs Agency of the Year 2010” awarded by The Holmes Report, a specialized paper for people working in public relations.
The firm was established by Joseph T. Baerlein and Larry Rasky. From what I could find out about these two men’s political affiliations, both seem to have ties to politicians belonging to the Democratic Party. Baerlein worked for Lt. Gov. Evelyn F. Murphy of Massachusetts and Rasky for Edward John Markey, U.S. Representative for Massachusetts’s 7th Congressional District. Rasky is also “a longtime board member of the Anti-Defamation League and in this capacity he was honored for the role in making a new bridge named after Leonard P. Zakim, former director of the League’s New England office." I wonder how much Larry Rasky knows about the growing anti-Semitism in Hungary that by now involves even Viktor Orbán’s own party. For example, the scandal in Eger over an actor who was barred by local Fidesz politicians from appearing on a Villon program because he was “a filthy Jew with liberal sympathies.”
How much will Shawn Sullivan, David Tamasi, and their team be able to achieve in Washington on behalf of Orbán's Hungary? I have the feeling, not much. I think we've got to the point where communication is not enough. What Washington is expecting from Viktor Orbán is a total turnabout, to see his government behave the way politicians in a democratic country are supposed to behave. They would like to see a restored independent judiciary, a media law that would not put Hungary into the category of “semi-free” countries. Talk, empty talk at that, will not move too many people in Washington. They would like to see a change of policy. Otherwise the monthly $45,000 is money down the drain.
Judit Csernyánszky, who just returned from the United States, wrote an opinion piece in today’s Népszava in which she describes the general atmosphere she encountered while accompanying some MSZP politicians to Washington and New York. She came to the conclusion that “there is not one political think tank today in Washington where Viktor Orbán would be welcome. … By now no one is interested in his explanations and he couldn’t convince anyone of his truth.” Rasky Baerlein will have a very difficult time changing this perception. They would need Viktor Orbán’s cooperation, which is unlikely.
Not long ago a right-radical "literary historian" complained bitterly that a new one-volume history of Hungarian literature made no mention of Albert Wass, Dezső Szabó, and Cecile Tormay. Surely, the argument went, liberal literary historians left out these greats of Hungarian literature because of their political orientation. It never occurred to these people that there might be another reason for the omission: they were not good enough writers to be included in a general literary survey.
I happen to have a large volume that contains the names and brief appreciations of writers and poets who were active between 1945 and 1981. There are literally hundreds of names, and I'd bet that even people who paid attention to the contemporary literary scene wouldn't recognize some of them. Or, another example from the United States. I happen to be reading a travelogue by János Szász, a Hungarian writer from Romania, who received a scholarship to attend the Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa in 1976. He mentions an American novelist who made a big splash during his stay in the United States. Not exactly a household word nowadays. The author's fame came and went. It can happen.
Of the three writers Rózsa Hoffmann felt compelled to include in the basic high school curriculum József Nyirő (1889-1953) seems to me the most talented. A couple of his works are on the Internet: a short story that was published in 1930 in the very prestigious periodical Nyugat (The West) and a novel, Mádéfalvi veszedelem (Danger in Mádéfalva). But this is just a small sample. As a result of renewed interest in writers who were neglected during the socialist period, Kairosz, a publishing house specializing in Catholic and/or right-wing literature and politics, has reissued his complete works in seventeen volumes. This set is nestled in the Kairosz catalogue alongside practically all the books of Zsolt Bayer, the anti-Semitic journalist of Magyar Hírlap; an interview volume with Krisztina Morvai of Jobbik fame; and another with Gábor Széles, the owner of Magyar Hírlap. György Bedő, the owner of Kairosz, is not exactly a moderate conservative.
Nyirő's name has been in the papers lately, and not only because of his inclusion in the basic high school curriculum. Nyirő died in Spain, and his remains just arrived in Budapest from where they will travel to Székelyudvarhely (Odorheiu Secuiesc) for reburial. It seems that the idea of the reburial didn't come from Nyirő's home turf, the Szekler region of Transylvania, but from László Kövér, the speaker of the Hungarian Parliament. As far as I can ascertain, the expenses incurred will be paid by the Hungarian government. The reburial will be a fancy affair. A special train called the Blessed Lady Pilgrimage Train will make the journey, and between Csíkszereda (Miercurea Ciu) and Székelyudvarhely hussars will follow the coffin.
The arrival of József Nyirő's remains in Budapest
Not everything is going smoothly with the ceremony, however, on the Romanian side. The mayor (RMDSZ) of Székelyudvarhely doesn't want to allow the organizers to use the town's main square. Behind the squabble is the Orbán government's interference in the political life of the Hungarian minority in Romania. So, Nyirő is a very controversial figure not only when it comes to literature but also in current politics.
Actually, even the Nyirő supporters admit that the once famous writer wasn't exactly a master of Hungarian prose. Specifically, he couldn't really put together a tight and coherent plot line when it came to novels. He was very good at writing short stories, but all his novels are basically no more than a series of short stories strung together and called a novel. He is often compared to Áron Tamási, another Transylvanian writer from the same Szekler area. But Tamási's Ábel a rengetegben (Abel in the wilderness) is a real masterpiece. Apparently, Nyirő wrote his Uz Bence almost as an answer to Tamási's novel, but the competition between the two clearly turned out in Tamási's favor. I don't know whether Tamási's Ábel a rengetegben is in the curriculum but if it is, there is no need for an inferior version of it by Nyirő.
What is the real point of contention when it comes to Nyirő? It is his politics. After the Second Vienna Award (1941) József Nyirő became a member of the Hungarian parliament and on the side he was the editor of a right-wing weekly called Magyar Erő (Hungarian Might). In 1944 he worked for another right-wing publication called Magyar Ünnep (Hungarian Holiday). What really marred his reputation was that after the Szálasi take-over he remained a member of parliament and became one of those who followed Szálasi in his flight to the west. His critics call him a fascist while his apologists try to minimize his political involvement. But even his admirers had to notice that Nyirő's ideas showed a close relationship to the Nazis' racism. His critics talk about his confusion between love and hatred, between Christianity and paganism. They claim that he is even more confused and harder to follow than Dezső Szabó who naturally had a great influence on him. But there was one difference between the two: Szabó fiercely opposed both German Nazism and its Hungarian variety, Szálasi's Arrow Cross movement.
Not so Nyirő who even in exile kept in close contact with those members of Szálasi's inner circle who were not sent back to Hungary by the Allies. He was close friends with Albert Wass as well as "the court poet" of Szálasi, Géza Alföldi. He was also a good friend of Lajos Marschalkó, who was condemned to death in absentia in Hungary. Marschalkó was the leading light of those on the extreme right who supported the ideas of Ferenc Szálasi. He was a fierce anti-Semite whose most famous (or infamous) book is Világhódítók: Az igazi háborús bűnösök (World conquerors: The real war criminals). It must have sold well. I have the third edition of it. Marschalkó received the József Nyirő Prize in 1954, a year after the death of Nyirő. Birds of a feather. It is hard to imagine that Nyirő was not an avowed Hungarian Nazi.
On March 8, 2012 Rózsa Hoffmann, Christian Democratic undersecretary in charge of education, announced that the task of drafting the basic curriculum for elementary and high schools had been completed. She claimed that 648 individuals and 60 professional organizations responded to the ministry's working papers that were made public on the Internet. It was Hungarian literature that attracted the most comments. Many commentators complained that so-called "conservative" writers were not represented in the curriculum.
Three writers were mentioned by name: Albert Wass, Dezső Szabó, and József Nyirő. None of them can be described as "conservative." The conservative writers between the two world wars were men like Ferenc Herczeg, Kálmán Harsányi, Sándor Sík, Miklós Surányi, Lajos Zilahy, Irén Gulácsy, or Zsolt Harsányi. The three who will be included in the basic curriculum were right radicals. All three were born in Transylvania and all three were anti-Semites and fiercely nationalistic. Two of them, Wass and Nyirő, were declared to be war criminals. Wass was sentenced to death in absentia in Romania. In 1947 the Hungarian government requested Nyirő's extradition without success. Both left Hungary in 1944-45 and lived the rest of their lives in exile, Wass in the United States and Nyirő in Franco's Spain. Szabó died of old age and malnutrition during the siege of Budapest in 1945. I devoted a long post to Albert Wass. Today's topic is a second Hungarian writer students must learn about in school: Dezső Szabó (Kolozsvár/Cluj 1879-Budapest 1945).
Szabó is a controversial figure whose literary output can charitably be described as uneven. In fact, some of his critics claim that most of his prose is close to unreadable today. I don't think that the critics exaggerate. I have his two-volume autobiography published in the late 1960s; its flowery prose borders on the ridiculous.
His best known and most important novel was Elsodort falu (Swept away village, 1919). In it he espoused the idea that the hope for a Hungarian renaissance lay in the peasant class, as opposed to the middle classes that in Szabó's opinion were "corrupted by the mentalities of the assimilated Germans and Jews." Anyone who knows anything about the Hungarian literary school of populists (narodniks, népiesek) of the 1930s will immediately realize that Dezső Szabó was one of the early members of this group of writers, although he wasn't as original as he wanted others to believe. There had been Hungarian writers already in the nineteenth century who championed the idea of Hungarian uniqueness, even superiority.
Szabó didn't understand democracy, hated progress and capitalism, and painted an idealized picture of the village. His Elsodort falu is full of references to Jews and capitalists. Naturally, both should be hated as enemies of the true Hungarians. As the author of Progressziv blog remarked, today's seventeen-year-olds will not understand nor will they care a hoot about village life a hundred years ago in Transylvania, but they will certainly get the message that the scourges of Hungary are capitalism and the Jews. He predicts that reading Szabó will only boost their attraction to Jobbik. He claims that Szabó planted the idea into the heads of Hungarians that there is an "independent Hungarian road," so to include Szabó in the curriculum will reinforce the current Hungarian isolationist tendencies and the fear of embattlement by antagonistic foreign enemies.
But there is another problem, and that is a weighty one. Szabó was not a good writer. According to Péter Nagy in the sixth volume of A magyar irodalom története 1919-től napjainkig (1966) "the overwhelming majority of Szabó's novels and short stories are practically unreadable." The list includes Elsodort falu, which most likely will be included in the high school curriculum. And then comes a lengthy description of the linguistic oddities of Szabó. It is this mannerism and artificiality that makes his influence practically negligible on the development of modern Hungarian prose. Instead, he had a considerable role to play in the development of Hungarian journalism and essay writing. Also, unfortunately his sway was strong on a certain stratum of Hungarian intellectuals: those attracted to extreme right ideologies.
Well, one could say that Péter Nagy's critical appraisal was written in the late 1960s. Those communists didn't like "the writer of right radicalism." Therefore, I think I should quote a few lines, practically at random, from the autobiography of Dezső Szabó that was published in Budapest in 1965. The title of this two-volume work is Életeim (My lives). Here are a few lines in the original from vol. 1 (pp. 752-753) which I will not even try to translate.
És akkor ott, az erdők és hegyek emberfölötti latóhatárában előjött az a lelkem, mely később, életem tragikus változásaiban annyiszor nyújtotta kétségbeesett vággyal karjait a végtelenbe. Így élni a természet roppant pajtásai közt, nem látva embert, erdők és sziklák védelmében, benne élni az anyag kozmikus változásaiban, társául a világot járt fellegeknek, az Alpeseken lovagló szeleknek, a csendesen néző csillagoknak. Mintha a messzi ormokon átsuhanva egy végtelen hívás jött volna felém. Mintha sajátos zenévé mozdult volna a világ. Ettem mohón, és friss forrásvizet ittam rá. Mélyen elaludtam.
One is grateful that he fell into a deep sleep at this point. Unfortunately, he woke up and continued in the same torturous style. I feel sorry for those youngsters who must read Dezső Szabó. I also think that his ideas are toxic. In 1920-21 Szabó wrote more than forty op/ed pages for a right radical newspaper called Virradat (Dawn). A right radical of our day collected some of them and put them on the Internet.
What about this one entitled "Antiszemitizmus"? It begins thus: "The fish lives in water, the lungs are fed by oxygen, the Hungarian is an anti-Semite. Throw the fish out of the water, he will die. Take away the oxygen from the lungs, it will suffocate. Throw out the anti-Semitism from the Hungarian and he will die a most shameful death."
I don't know how Szabó's anti-Semitism can be purged from the school books, but even if one could do it one still must ask: should such a mediocre or worse writer be taught in Hungarian schools? I very much doubt it.
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