Hate, Speech, Freedom, Expression?
A former communist interior minister may be the first punished by Hungary's Holocaust denial law
In what is perhaps one of the most ironic twists in the history of post communist Hungary, the country's recently amended Holocaust denial law may be first used against a former communist interior minister. This would certainly not be what the left-wing Socialist government intended when it passed the law just before national elections, when the right-wing FIDESZ seized power in a landslide victory earlier this year. Without a doubt, this unique situation has stirred emotions and raised ambiguities on both sides of the political divide.
At the end of September Budapest police questioned Bela Biszku, an 89 year-old communist-era interior minister, on suspicion of publicly denying that the communist regime committed crimes, this after he gave an interview to Duna Television, qualifying the events of 1956 as a counter-revolution and the subsequent retaliations, including the over 200 death penalties, as proper. Biszku had a pivotal role in the retributions following Hungary's 1956 revolution and to this day is steadfast in his defence of the former regime.
A law condemning the denial of Nazi crimes, passed earlier this year, was expanded to include the crimes of communism. It was passed by parliament on June 8 and took effect 30 days later. Accordingly, "anyone who publicly denies, doubts, or presents as insignificant any generally known fact concerning the genocide and other crimes against humanity committed by the Nazi and communist regimes shall be punishable by up to three years in prison.”
Biszku was minister of the interior from 1957 to 1961, during the peak of post-1956 retaliations. He came into the limelight in June this year when a much-debated documentary on his life entitled "Crime and Punishment" was premiered. In the film Biszku reveals that he had not felt any regret or remorse for the death penalties meted out during the post-1956 retaliations.
The former communist-era minister, who had not given any interviews since the regime change two decades ago, initially tried to prevent the screening of the documentary. Biszku then gave an exclusive interview on August 4th to Duna TV, a popular public television channel among Hungarians both within Hungary and abroad, in an attempt to counter growing criticism and outrage sparked by the documentary and the controversy surrounding its screening. During this interview he said that the retributions, which included the execution of former Prime Minister Imre Nagy, among others, had been lawful and that the events of 1956 had not been a revolution.
A week after this interview the police formerly launched an investigation to see if the remarks made by Biszku were in breach of the law. The issue then appeared to recede to the background until police proceedings, initiated by an MP of the radical nationalist JOBBIK party, once again brought it to the fore at the end of September. Some feel that the timing of this is no coincidence. Coming a little over a week before municipal elections, the matter has helped to boost the campaign of the right-wing FIDESZ government as well as the JOBBIK, both of whose campaigns revolve around the issues of law and order, as well as retribution for the past, among other things.
The failure to bring anyone to justice for the crimes of the past
Indeed, many have posed the simple question: why now? "Why didn't someone take him to court after 1989, after the collapse of communism in Central and Eastern Europe?" wrote one pundit. "Why had there been no call for an accounting at all?" wrote another. "Instead the same faces were pushed around into new posts and all went on as before...change of regime my beautiful white ass."
Ironically, much of the criticism appears to come from the political right as opposed to the political left. This is because many on the right felt that Biszku and others like him should have been put on trial as soon as possible. Instead, many were allowed to retire gracefully and die an honest death as opposed to having to be called to account for their past actions. To this extent, much of the criticism has been aimed at the FIDESZ who, while in power ten years ago, had the chance to, as some have put it, "clear out" all the souvenirs from the communist regime.
Those in defence of the FIDESZ, however, point out that a law aimed at holding those to account for past crimes was drafted but subsequently struck down by the Constitutional Court. Interestingly enough, the head of the Constitutional Court at that time was none other than Laszlo Solyom, who was replaced this past summer as the President of Hungary.
Hence, the failure to bring anyone to justice for the crimes of the past is often attributed to the country's corrupt legal system that is packed with comprised judges and prosecutors. Along these lines, supporters of the FIDESZ note that it's an open secret that some of the judges working in the Hungarian justice system were socialized during the communist era, thus their loyalty can be traced back to the former regime.
On the other hand, given that the all the judges in the Hungarian Supreme Court were born between 1949 and 1954, they were all thus appointed to the court after the regime change in 1990. As in other areas of Hungarian political, social, and cultural life, these individuals indubitably were educated and worked in Hungary during the communist era. Yet, as one observer pointed out: "that judges that were educated and worked in Hungary before 1990 knew each other is not very strange, but what was the option? Import foreign educated judges? Because who had not been trained and educated and worked in Communist Hungary?"
Holocaust denial law and "Gypsie crime"
While the current Holocaust denial law covers the denial of crimes committed by both the Nazi and communist regimes, the JOBBIK would go even further calling for people who deny the existence of certain crimes in general to be imprisoned. In particular, the JOBBIK refers to the notion of "gypsy crime". According to an initiative submitted last week by three JOBBIK politicians, "public discourse has for several decades prevented the solution of some pressing social problems, the exposition of well-known but officially non-recognised forms of crime, for instance Gypsy crime, and research into its roots."
Unsurprisingly, this initiative caused outrage among some, especially those on the political left. Andras Schiffer, head of the eco-alternative Politics Can Be Different (LMP) party, accused the JOBBIK of applying double standards. According to Schiffer, the radical nationalist party "revealed its true nature" and that democratic freedoms were only important for them "as long as they were in the interest of protecting the far right".
Yet others see that the amended Holocaust denial law in and of itself represents a double standard. Those opposed to the amended version of the law feel that the insertion of communist crimes into the law serves only one purpose: to belittle those crimes committed by the Horthy regime prior and during the Second World War, which was at the time an ally of Hitler's Nazi Germany.
Meanwhile, there are those against the idea of a Holocaust denial law altogether. They contend that regulating free speech is almost always a bad idea as it sets a bad precedent. While most agree that the likes of Biszku should be brought to justice, they argue that instead of regulating free speech, such individuals should be tried on more serious charges, namely crimes against humanity. "I don't see why the main focus is on Biszku's 'lack of remorse' or his 'denial' of the revolution," opined one person. "If he had a role in the 'retributions' should he not be tried for a lot more serious crimes?"
Ultimately, all this has led many to ponder the concept of free speech. In Hungary many are of the opinion that Europe in general, and Hungary in particular, is letting their past crimes cloud their current laws. Others go further, noting that political correctness, from which the concept of Holocaust denial had been cultivated, is nothing less than a form of thought control and, in turn, represent is a "dumbing down" of society. Along these lines, there is no reason why expressing hate towards someone or some group should be prima facie ground for legal or police action. Those who subscribe to this view are quick to add, however, that this doesn't mean there are no legitimate exceptions, but the threats must at least be specific to be considered an offense.
Dealing with the past
In conjunction with this, there is the problem of how far can such a law extend. The recent Hungarian past is still, in many ways, ambivalent. This is especially so in the case of the Prime Minister of Hungary during the 1956 revolution, Imre Nagy, who was subsequently executed after the Soviet crackdown.
As a precursor to the Holocaust denial law, the Hungarian parliament in 1996 passed a resolution asserting the historical greatness of Imre Nagy. In effect, to question his role during the revolution can be considered an offense. Yet for some, especially those who lived through those days, Nagy was no hero. Many feel that he wasn't a leader at all, but was simply pushed along by the tide of events. In many ways he was a marked man, whether the revolution succeeded or not. Moreover, a firm believer in the communist system until the very end, his loyalty to the creed is evidenced by the fact that he took a big risk driving across town to the Yugoslav Embassy to seek refuge rather than go to the American Embassy which was close by parliament.
Janos Rainer, in his biography on Nagy, makes it clear that Nagy was quite reluctant to become involved in the revolution, and that he was simply responding to the street and not leading the charge, which is why some have questioned to what degree he can be considered a revolutionary. Not only this, there is evidence that Nagy served as an informant for the NKVD during his time in Moscow and provided names to the secret police as a way to prove his loyalty (not an uncommon tactic for foreign communists in the Soviet Union at the time). In fact, several Russian historians go even further and claim that Nagy was among a group of seven Hungarians responsible for killing the Tsar and his family.
All this simply highlights the problem associated with laws regulating how the past should be understood and interpreted. While concern over the falsification of history and misleading the uneducated may be genuine, perhaps the solution lies in a more educated public able to think for themselves as opposed to the introduction of restrictive laws. In the case of Hungary as well as the other former communist states of Central and Eastern Europe, the past will only become less problematic the further one moves away from it.