Hollosi Information eXchange /HIX/
Copyright (C) HIX
Új cikk beküldése (a cikk tartalma az író felelőssége)
Megrendelés Lemondás
1 Recipent design (mind)  105 sor     (cikkei)
2 Honor the memory (October 23, 1956) (mind)  301 sor     (cikkei)
3 Re: Re : Moving to Hunagry!!! (mind)  39 sor     (cikkei)
4 Lakast keresek Veszpremben / looking for an apartment i (mind)  16 sor     (cikkei)
5 Re: Who is intelligent and who is not? (mind)  47 sor     (cikkei)
6 hungarian penfriend (mind)  7 sor     (cikkei)
7 The Paris Peace Conference (mind)  26 sor     (cikkei)
8 Re: Hungary 461 -- To Paul Gelencser on racism (mind)  51 sor     (cikkei)
9 Re: The Paris Peace Conference (mind)  19 sor     (cikkei)
10 Elnezest ker a kiado (mind)  4 sor     (cikkei)

+ - Recipent design (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

> Felado : "peter kaslik"@idirect.com
> Temakor: Tiha von Ghyczy > wrote: ( 38 sor )
> > The mere identifiability of a group (ethnically or otherwise) is simply not
> > sufficient for the enjoyment of such a scarce commodity as protection.
>Is your posting:
> a. Provocation
> b. Result of Plain Ignorance
> c. Both of the Above
May I venture to suggest that it is neither? The existence of
collective rights is open to doubt: many people think that in civil
society only the rights of individuals (as opposed to groups)
can/should/must be protected.  In fact this subject has been debated
at length five years ago on the FALIUJSAG mailing list that preceded
HIX and HUNGARY (a version edited by Ga1bor Hana1k was published in
the monthly Valo1sa1g). Here follows a piece which I think is just as
relevant now as it was in 1990 (for the full debate, see the HIX
WEISZ archives starting with FALI #47):

(...) Tulajdonke1ppeni mondando1m pontosabb kifejte1se1t megko2nnyi1tendo3
bevezetek egy ne1mileg leegyszeru2si1tett modellt.  A politikai diskurzus
durva1n ha1rom szinten zajlik/zajolhat. Az elso3, ALAPszintet az "egyszeru3
emberek" gondolkoda1sa (e1s elo3i1te1letei) hata1rozza1k meg -- az "if you
can't lick'em, join'em" pe1lda1ul ide tartozik. A ma1sodik, KO2ZE1Pszintet az
"emberko2zeli politika" alkotja -- ide tartoznak pe1lda1ul a politikusok
va1laszta1si besze1dei, az u1jsa1gok szerkeszto3i a1lla1sfoglala1sai stb. (me1g
akkor is ha nem helyi hanem vila1gpolitikai ke1rde1sekkel foglalkoznak).
Ve1gu2l a harmadik, MAGASszintet a kifejezett profi politikusok,
politolo1gusok, joga1szok, "think tank"-beli kutato1k ko2zti ve1leme1nycsere

Ezt a modellt me1g lehetne finomi1tani, de a politikai vita1k fo3bb jellemzo3it
ma1r i1gy is jo1l tu2kro2zi. A ha1rom szint nagyon jo1l leme1rheto3 a
re1sztvevo3k "profizmusa1n": az alapszint a1ltala1ban az "utca embere1nek"
szo1l (aki nem ku2lo2no2sebben e1rdeklo3dik a politikai ira1nt), a ko2ze1pszint
a1ltala1ban egy kultu1ra1ltabb, e1rdeklo3do3bb re1teget te1telez fel (akik
elmennek a va1laszta1si gyu3le1sekre, u1jsa1got olvasnak, so3t ido3nke1nt
i1rnak is az u1jsa1gba, stb.), ve1gu2l a magasszint kifejezetten a profiknak
(akik ebbo3l e1lnek) van fenntartva.

Aze1rt kezdtem el a faliu1jsa1gra i1rni Erde1ly-u2gyben mert u1gy la1ttam (e1s
most is u1gy la1tom) hogy a leve1li1ro1k egyszeru3en nem ismerik sem az
alapszintu3 ko2zve1leme1nyt (ha u1gy tetszik, elo3i1te1leteket), sem a "magas"
eszmecsere1t e1s emiatt ke1ptelenek a ko2ze1pszintu3 diskurzusba hate1konyan
bekapcsolo1dni. Jo1l la1tszik ez azon ami kimarad (bizonyos dolgok e1rvek
ne1lku2li elfogada1sa) e1s azon is hogy nem vigya1znak az "akusztika1ra" (Dea1k
Istva1n sajna1latosan fe1lree1rtheto3 fogalmaza1sa ide tartozik) teha1t hogy mi
az ami itt "jo1l cseng" e1s mi az ami nem.

O2sszefoglalom idevonatkozo1 te1ziseimet.

A) Alapszinten a nemzetise1gi jogok nem le1teznek. Nem arro1l van szo1 hogy az
utca embere bunko1 aki semmilyen jogot nem hajlando1 elismerni (pe1lda1ul az az
a1rnyalt jog hogy a va1dlottnak ne kelljen o2nmaga ellen tanu1skodnia "taking
the fifth" nagyon is benne van a ko2zgondolkoda1sban) hanem arro1l hogy a
nemzetise1gi jogoknak itt semmife1le hagyoma1nya nincs, me1g azokkal
kapcsolatban sem, mint az india1nok vagy a mexiko1iak, akiket "a hata1r le1pett
a1t" (erre me1g ke1so3bb visszate1rek).

B) Magasszinten a nemzetise1gi jogok nem le1teznek. Magas szintro3l le1ve1n
szo1, ez nem azt jelenti hogy u1gy "nem le1teznek" hogy teljesse1gel
hia1nyozna1nak az emberek gondolkoda1sa1bo1l, hanem csak azt jelenti hogy nem
axiomatikusak -- mint a me1rvado1 to2bbse1g a1ltal vita ne1lku2l elfogadott, a
politikai gondolkoda1st e1s cselekve1st behata1rolo1 eszme1k nem le1teznek.
E1rdemes megne1zni hogy milyen pro e1s kontra e1rvek hangzottak el amikor
ne1ha1ny e1ve az Oscar-di1j kioszta1sa1ra Marlon Brando maga helyett egy
(sziu1?)  india1nt ku2ldo2tt hogy az a nyilva1nossa1g elo3tt felpanaszolja az
india1nok se1relmeit!

Mindebbo3l az ko2vetkezik, hogy aki "ko2ze1pszinten" u1gy politiza1l hogy a
nemzetise1gi jogokat axio1ma1nak tekinti, az teljesen ki1vu2l helyezi maga1t a
politikai diskurzuson -- hia1ba i1r nyelvtanilag hiba1tlan angolsa1ggal, amit
i1r me1gis olyan mintha egy marslalo1 i1rta volna!

Unfortunately, the situation has not improved a great deal in the past
five years as far as the "recipient design" of public appeals aimed at
a US/EC audience is concerned. Let's say, for the sake of the
argument, that we all agree the IMF's power over Hungary needs to be
lessened.  Supporting nuisance lawsuits against Michael Camdessus is
not the way.  If it becomes widely known that the instigator of the
lawsuit, Dr. Endrey, keeps prominent nazis as houseguests (Jo1zsef
Szendi was stripped of his US citizenship and ordered to leave the
country when his nazi past came to light) and takes the ravings of
A1ron Mo1nus about the international conspiracy of freemasons for
intellectual guidance, the publicity backlash can be considerable.
It's not clear to me why AMOSZ (an organization I know nothing about)
should help Dr. Endrey in borrowing more trouble, but perhaps Bozo1ki
Barnaba1s knows the answer.

It is of course highly debatable whether the IMF's power over Hungary
actually needs to be lessened. But by securing a large German loan at
a time when the IMF thought Hungary was not fully creditworthy Gyula
Horn actually managed to strike a major blow against the IMF. In fact
the loss of face for the IMF was so acute that Theo Waigel (the German
minister of finance) had to engage in all kinds of spin control. It
has been suggested in the press that the loan guarantees are a quid
pro quo for Mr. Horn's opening the Iron Curtain to East Germans in
'89, and of course both the German and the Hungarian government
vehemently denies this. Be it as it may, Mr. Horn deftly played the
Ostpolitik card and succeeded in demonstrating that the IMF, this
seemingly monolithic organization, is just as fragmented as NATO. Or
perhaps he knows the secret masonic handshake...

Andra1s Kornai
+ - Honor the memory (October 23, 1956) (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

NOTE: In the text below, the AOL software has eliminated the long Hungarian
vowels (o" and u") plus the quotation marks and left blank spaces in their

October 23 1956:

"Rian a fold, a falak dolnek,             Quivers the earth, tumble the
 Kek harsonakkal zeng az eg,         The trump of doom echoes the sky,
 S barlangjabol a dohos konek         And from the stifling cave of terror,
 Az ember ujra fenyre lep."              Our human souls began to rise.

My sandals were soaked in the morning dew. To keep warmer, I turned up the
collar and turned in the lapel of my corduroy jacket. On the train, the
people don't seem to know about the events of last night. They are
blue-collar workers, exhausted, half asleep. This is only Tuesday, but they
look as if a whole work week was already behind them. There are no students
on the train. It is too early for them. These workers
are the  backbone of the dictatorship of the proletariat.
       I arrive at the university at around 7 AM. Jancsi Danner is at gate
#4. I'm 6'-2 , he must be 6'-4  or 6'-5 . He is also older then me by about 5
years. He winks at me and hands over a tri-colored arm-band:  Go to gate #2
and check the identity cards of all who enter. No strangers should be allowed
in. None!  Jancsi's voice is quiet, there is a faint smile in the corner of
his mouth. His tall frame is slightly stooped, as he turns to the much
shorter Ivan Szabs and asks:  Ivan, could you get hold of a bullhorn? We
might need one later.
       Since the Russians occupied Hungary, I have not seen an arm-band with
the national colors. The displaying of any national symbols, even the flag,
was carefully controlled: the average person could not even own one. When an
official flag was displayed, it had to be placed next to, and to the left of
the red flag. Any sign of patriotic feeling, any national symbol was taken as
opposition to the internationalist doctrine of the Communists. We got used to
this. A tri-colored arm-band was unthinkable, a provocation, a sigh of open
rebellion. And now, I have one!
       I feel ten feet tall. As I am walking over to gate #2, near the
Chemistry Building, I hold my head high, I keep peeking at my own arm-band. I
feel so happy, so special and honored. As I reach the gate, the first person
who enters is Kati Sz ke, the young chemistry professor, who last night
helped us with the stencil copier. She stops, stares at my arm-band, her eyes
get shiny and as I explain, that we are screening out the strangers, who
might stir up trouble, she quietly hands me her identity card.
       A little later, Gyuszi Perr arrives on his motor bike. Marika, the
little blond athlete, who witnessed my high jump yesterday, is on the back
seat.  We distributed the announce ments at the factories of Csepel,
Belojannisz and also at the mines of Dorog  - she says.  My brother is
passing them out at the University of Gvdvll   - I tell them. As time passes,
the traffic at the gate increases. Later, Marika comes back to help with the
checking. Now there is a line at the gate. People are patient. There is a
dignified pride in the air. I try to be quick, so I don't even look up, just
read one identity card after the other.
       On this card the title reads: rector. I look up. There is the
president of the university, Laszls Gillemot in front of me, quietly waiting
for his card. I hand it back and in my embar rassment I make something like a
curtsy. I feel silly to be checking the papers of the rector, but then, as I
look in his eyes, I see respect, I see emotion and most of all, I see warm
reassurance. His eyes are saying:  Don't worry. The young man of other ages,
were just as scared as you are, yet they changed the world. You too will
leave your mark, you too will do what the adults could not, you will mortally
wound this barbaric system.
       By now there are four of us with arm-bands at the gate. The time is
7:59 AM. My mechanics class starts at 8 AM in the KA-51 lecture hall. This
lecture is given by Adam Mutnyanszky, or uncle Mutyi, as we all call him. It
is unthinkable to miss his class. So I leave the gate to the others and break
the world record between Gate #2 and the KA-51 lecture hall. Laci Zsindely
kept a chair for me in the 10th row. I slump down beside him. I know Laci
from high school. He is a well dressed, broad shouldered fellow. He is
responsible for my selecting naval architecture as my major. I picked that
major for the sole reason, that I wanted to be with him.
        There are about 300 students in our junior class of mechanical
engineering. Therefore, this large lecture hall is only about half full.
Professor Mutnyanszky is down in front. He has already started to draw the
cross-section of some machine element, on one of the sliding black-boards. We
look down at him, like in a theatre as each row is above the previous. Each
chair is provided with a writing table, which we lift, when we sit down or
get up. These tables been carved with chiseled initials, engravings of loved
names and less quotable remembrances of many generations of students.
        Mutnyanszky is a remnant of the old, pre-Communist school of
professors, a born teacher, one who educated generations of engineers,
inventors, even some Nobel Prize winners. His knowledge is surpassed only by
his dedication and love of teaching. He enjoys opening up young minds,
passing on his own devotion to science and his faith in knowledge, to the
next generation. You could hear a pin drop in the lecture hall. This is,
because uncle Mutyi does not use a microphone and we don't want to miss a
single word he says.
       His lecture is like celebrating mass. He is the high priest of
science. He is assisted by a teaching assistant and a school-porter. The
professor does not use a text book. He draws his lines without a ruler, yet
they are as straight as a bowstring. He never runs out of board space, and he
certainly never makes a mistake. When done, he nods to his second in command
(not the teaching aid, but the old school-porter), who takes his big sponge
and bucket of water and while uncle Mutyi works on an other board, he washes
and dries the used one until it is clean as a new pin.
       This board was already old when von Karman's generation studied here
at the turn of the century, it got older by the time of von Neumann
generation in 1925, after the dismemberment of the Kingdom, and still older
when he, together with Teller, Wigner, Szilard and the others left to escape
the nazis. It is old, but it is still pitch black, Mutnyan szky's white lines
are sharp and visible even is the back. The professor and the porter are the
same kind of people, they get along, because they both take pride in what
they do and because, they respect each other.
          This morning Mutnyanszky is in bad form. He can not concentrate, he
seems to have lost his chain of thought, he stops, he coughs, he looks at us,
then back at the board, starts and stops again. He is humming and hawing, he
is clearing his throat, while the class is watching and waiting. Finally he
puts down the chalk, wipes his hands, turns away from the board and slowly
walks back to his desk. For a while he plays with his glasses, then lifts his
eyes, looks at us for a few long seconds and with a choke in his voice, says:
 Go my sons, go! This is not a day for mechanics. You have a higher duty
today. Make this a proud day in the history of our poor nation.

        As Mutnyanszky leaves, we hold a brief meeting with the class. We
tell them about last night's meeting and about the demonstration planned for
this afternoon. We agree that we will march, using the same formation, which
we use during military training. This way we will all know the persons on our
left and right and therefore, no strangers can infiltrate our group. We will
march with ten in each row, arm in arm, silent. We will carry no signs, we
will give no reason for the police to interfere. We agree that Gyuri Egry
(the Men ) will lead the class and I will be the contact person with colonel
       At around 9 AM the class left to rehearse the formation in front of
the Chemistry building and I went to find colonel Marian and the other
organizers. As I am walking toward the Military Department, I see Ivan
Sandor, the editor of our paper,  The Future Engineer.  He has just arrived
from the printer, and is bringing the new edition. He must have some 2,000
copies. The ink is still wet, our demands are printed on the front page. I
grab some 50 copies, give about half to my class and decide to take the rest
to the universities on the Pest side of the Danube.
      As I jump on the streetcar with my tri-colored arm-band and with the
papers under my arm, all eyes turn towards me. Now, an older lady gets up and
stand next to me, like if she wanted to protect me. Then a mailman comes over
and whispers in my ear:  I heard it from my daughter, I know everything. Be
careful!  While he is talking, he keeps looking  around to see if he can
expect any reprisal for his daring act. It is about 9:30 AM. The capital is
still oblivious to what is happening at the universities.
        I visit three universities. Meetings are in progress at each. I read
our demands, announce the march planned for the afternoon, leave a couple of
copies of our paper and go on to the next one. At the Marxism-Leninism
university, the DISZ penguins seem to be still in control. At the Academy of
Dramatic Arts, somebody affixes a Polish emblem to my lapel. As I am going on
to Evtvvs University, a tall women stops me on the street, hugs me, kisses
the insignia and starts talking in Polish. I smile at her, point at my arm-
band and since I have nothing else to give, I hand her a copy of The Future
      By 10 AM, when I am approaching Evtvvs University, Radio Budapest has
already announced the plans for our solidarity march. Now the city knows. As
I walk from the tram to the university, people are staring at me, some stop
and watch, an old man crosses himself, as if he has seen a miracle. In the
meeting hall the table is covered with red felt. I finish my short speech by
pointing at the table and asking:  Don't you have a more appropriate cover?
 It takes only a few minutes to push my way through the crowd, but by the
time I reach the door, the table is covered by the Hungarian tricolor.
        On my way out, I see a telephone. I dial Agnes. Her half sister,
Judit picks up the phone.  I heard on the radio  - she says.  Will she
forgive me?  - I ask. When there is only silence on the line, I beg her:
 Tell her that this is real important, but no, not more important than her!
Nothing is. Just very, very important.
      On my way back to the university, the atmosphere on has streetcar has
changed. Now the people know the meaning of my arm-band. I feel an outpouring
of love, respect and encouragement. It is a strange experience. It is like,
if overnight you have become somebody important, somebody whom everybody
thrusts. While they look up to me, I feel like telling them, that I am only a
kid, that they should not expect miracles from me, but then the role takes
over, I hand out the last copies of our paper and in a firm voice I say:
 Come with us to the Bem statue this afternoon. This is our country, it is up
to us to make it free!  Some people stare at the floor, others are reading
out aloud the demands in our paper, a lady is quietly crying and the
mustachioed conductor gives me a military salute as I jump off at the
       By the time I get back, the university is like a beehive. Thousands
upon thousands are assembling within the gates. Most people are around the
library and behind the main building. New groups are arriving in a continuous
procession. There is a loud-speaker on the roof of the Machine Laboratory
where Jancsi Danner and Ivan Szabs are an nouncing and greeting the new
arrivals. Now it is the students of the Veterinary College, now the School of
Horticulture, then the School of Agricultural Engineering followed by the
uniformed cadets of the Pet fi Military Academy.
       My class is still in formation, waiting in front of gate #2, near the
Chemistry Building. They have obtained an immense national flag. It will be
carried by the 6'-8  Laci Gabanyi, a member of the national basketball team.
Because gate #2 is the closest to Saint Gellirt Square, our class will lead
the march. Gabanyi's gigantic flag will give the signal to the students
gathered at the Pet fi statue, on the Pest side of the Danube, to also get
started. We are ready.
      There must be 10,000, even 15,000 people assembled on the university
grounds. The gates are still guarded, but now there are trench coated people
outside the gates. They are taking photographs and take recurring trips to
the public phone to report on what they see. We know who they are. It is
because of them, that most of us use nicknames. Mine is  csi (little
brother). One who does not bother with such things as using alter egos, is
Jancsi Danner. He makes no secret of who he is. His commitment is total.
       It is past noon, I am very hungry, but then, I have been hungry for
most of the last decade. It is my normal state. I have been hungry since the
day of  liberation , as the Communists call the end of the war, or since the
day of  collapse  as the nazis called it. (For the average Hungarian it was
neither. We just got out of the frying pan and into the fire.) My sandwich is
long gone and the search for crumbs in the pockets of my corduroy jacket is
unsuccessful. As I search for bread crumbs, I find the 140 forints, which I
got yesterday; two 20s and a 100. If I see a food stand, I will certainly buy
      I stand in the front row of our class, Gyuri Egry (Men ) on my left,
Zoli Dese  on my right. Our patience is wearing thin. At 12:53 PM there is a
radio announcement:  The Minister of Interior, Laszls Piros has forbidden the
      On the roof of the Machine Laboratory, Colonel Marian takes the
bullhorn and asks:  Will you obey the Minister's orders?  The answer thunders
in from all directions:  No, No, No!  I push myself through the crowds, but
by the time I reach colonel Marian, a student delegation has already left for
the Ministry of the Interior. Jancsi Danner headed the delegation. They took
a Skoda car, belonging to the university and driven by Imre Majoross.
      When I get back to my class, I see that outside the gates, the people
in trench coats have multiplied. They are still taking their photographs,
still making their telephone calls. Now, for the first time, there is tension
in the air.  So what did the sadist say to the masochist when he begged for a
kick?  - asks Gyuri Egry, the Men , and when nobody replies, he blurts out
the answer:  He said: no!  Nobody laughs. So he tries again:  Who is an
absolute nun?  Again, silence.  The nun who's mother is also a nun  - he
answers, but there is no response, not even a giggle. So he gives up his
attempt to cheer us up. We wait in silence, just wait and wait.
       The university grounds are becoming very crowded. Our numbers have
swollen and new contingents of demonstrators are still arriving. It is about
2:30 PM when there is some commotion on the roof of the Machine Laboratory.
We see the tall figure of Jancsi Danner with a short, dark haired police
officer. Now they hand the bullhorn to the officer:  I am Sandor Kopacsi, the
police chief of Budapest. I bring you good news: you have permission to
march.  He tries to say something else, but the cheering muffles his voice.
Now it is colonel Marian's turn to speak:  Our silent solidarity march will
start at gate #2. We will march north on the west bank of the Danube up to
General Bem's Square, where we will take part in the commemoration of the
Writers Union. The march will start immediately.
       Our class is assembled right at gate #2. Laci Gabanyi raises the
enormous national flag, the gate opens and arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder,
filled with commitment and emotion, we burst out onto Saint Gellirt Square.
We walk silently, like in a dream. My heart is in my mouth, a shiver is
running down my spine, I have never experienced anything like this.
       The traffic on the square comes to a standstill. The streetcars and
buses are squeaking to a halt. There is astonishment on the faces of the
pedestrians. They freeze in place and like a wide eyed sculptural group, they
remain rooted in place. As if they were under a spell, they are watching,
they are witnessing a miracle. A sanitation worker drops her broom and
crosses herself as our flag passes in front of her and starts crying. A tall,
mustachioed man, takes off his hat and stands to attention. A young traffic
cop first reaches for his flat cap, then gets embarrassed and awkwardly
adjusts his gesture into the wiping of perspiration off his brow, but in the
process, his fist also rubs his eyes. This is a once in a life-time
experience: A humiliated and tormented nation is opening her eyes,
straightening her back, is regaining her self-respect. It is a good, a proud
feeling to be Hungarian today.
        As we march through the square, we see an ocean of people behind us.
Now the students on the Pest side, the east side of the Danube, are also
starting on their northward march. They too are silent. The effect is
overpowering. The sidewalks are full of pedestrians who are marching with us
on both sides of our columns. This is more than just a demonstration by a few
thousand students. This is more like a dream, a dream that has materialized.
An entire nation is marching here. Everybody who ever loved this nation is
with us. I feel the presence, I can almost see Saint Stephen with his heavy
golden crown and Matthias Corvinus with his books, prince Rakoczi with his
kuruc fighters, there is Louis Kossuth with his bloodied, but unbowed
redcaps. Behind them, the more recently departed patriots, there is the
philosopher Imre Madach and the poet Endre Ady, behind them comes the
composer Bila Bartsk with Ferenc Molnar the playwright, and on, and on. We
are all here, our past, our history, the culture that makes us what we are,
the collective soul of all Hungarians is marching with us. Gyuri Egry, the
Men  is on my right, he turns to me:  This moment made life worth living.  I
do not reply, I can not speak.
       We pass the Freedom bridge, then the Elizabeth bridge and finally the
Szichenyi Chain Bridge, (the first such bridge in Europe.) People stare at us
in open-mouthed wonder. They just can't believe their eyes. Their hats are
off, their eyes are teary and full of amazement. They are witnessing a
miracle. People are waving from the windows. Now, in the window of the KIOSZK
building on Dvbrentei Square, a lady in a white smock, cuts out the Communist
crest from our national flag and starts waving this flag with the hole in
it's center: the future symbol of the revolution. A spontaneous cheer bursts
out and rises to the sky, For one moment we have forgotten that this is a
silent march.
      Now I see professor Jankovits's little Topolino parked on the
side-walk. Jancsi Danner, Ivan Szabs and others are using the roof of the car
as a desk. Gyuri Egry yells out:  What are you doing?   We have just
converted the 14 points into 16!  - comes the answer.
      As we arrive at the statue of the Polish General Bem, it is already
covered by flowers and by wreathes of laurels. The president of the Writers
Union, Piter Veres is speaking, we hear Pet fi's poem:

       Up, Hungarians! Freedom forever!
       Now's the moment, now or never!
       Shall we be slaves? Shall we be free?
       That is no choice: we must be free!

It is followed by the reading of the newly born 16 points. After the reading,
our delegation once again leaves for the Radio, hoping to broadcast the
demands. At the same time, Sandor Szill leaves with an other delegation to
deliver our demands to Imre Nagy.
        At the end of the commemoration, some of the classes return to the
university. We, the junior class of Mechanical Engineering, decide to march
on to the Parliament. We felt that our work was incomplete, that we could not
go home like this. We had to obtain some result, we had to obtain some
response from the government. Our march is still silent and dignified, we are
maintaining our arm-in-arm formation, our mood is still happy and optimistic
as we reach the Saint Margaret bridge, which takes us to the Pest side, where
the Parliament is.
+ - Re: Re : Moving to Hunagry!!! (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

In article >, 
(Kev) says:
>My father is about to retire early (he is 62) and would like to move
>to Hungary as he was born there and has family there.
>Please could someone tell me if....
>1) It is possible to claim unemployment benefit from Britain while
>living in Hungary? How can this be done?

No. One can only claim unemployment benefit (if eligible) in the country
one resides in.

>2) What will happen to his state pension when he reaches 65? ie. Will
>he be able to get it transferred?

Yes, but he will lose the annual increments; in other words it will stay
the same amount while he resides abroad in Hungary, whereas in Britain it
would gradually increase annually (I made inquiries to the pension office
at Makerfield House, Wigan, on behalf of my own 73 year-old mother and this
is what they told me.)

>3) How will he transfer money from Britain to Hungary?

It would be paid into a bank account in Britain and transferred to an
Hungarian bank account.

>4) Does he have to become a Hungarian citizen again?


>5) Are there any other things that he should consider?

There must be other things to consider and I eagerly await further
postings from anyone else who has experience of such a retirement
from Britain to Hungary.

+ - Lakast keresek Veszpremben / looking for an apartment i (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

Please post the following note:

Januarban jovok Veszpremi egyetemhez dolgozni a doctoratus kutatasan.  Keresek
egy kis, egy haloszobas, butorozott lakast az egyetem kozelsegbe, ot vagy hat
honapig, megkozelitoen 15 januar tol.
Vagy valaszal ezen a poston, vagy kuldjel:  

Koszomon a segitseget.

I will be working on my Ph.D. research at the Veszprem University for five or
six months beginning in January.  I am seeking a small, one bedroom furnished
apartment close to the University.
Please either post your response to this newsletter, or send to:  75123,

Thank you for your assistance.
+ - Re: Who is intelligent and who is not? (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

I reacted to Eva Balogh's condemnation of AMOSZ, which was based on the
fact that they support Dr. Erdey's law suit against the World Bank and IMF.
Not surprisingly, my utterances did not change her mind. In her age, and
mine, we do not change our minds very easily. She reacted with an even
stronger condemnation of AMOSZ:

>intelligent. People who support advocates of anti-semitism and international
>conspiracies of Jews and/or Freemasons cannot be called highly intelligent.
>If these people want to do something useful for Hungary, surely there are
>better ways.

I did not call "highly intelligent" all those people who can be
characterized as above. I objected to the generalization that they are
not.  I do not know any of the AMOSZ leaders, but I know at least one
highly educated, intelligent man who believes that Freemasons are
responsible for certain undesirable events of Hungarian history. Don't
ask me to explain his theories, I have no interest in the issue. What I
would like to know is, how can we call someone stupid because he/she
believes in a unproven theory? Would Eva call people who believe in God
stupid also? As I see it, it requires considerable intelligence to argue
for a not obvious theory?.

But what disturbed me most is her following statement (HUNGARY #462):
>totally unfamiliar with Hungarian emigre organization, I have never heard of
>AMOSZ before. I have no idea whom they represent but they certainly don't
>represent me. I can also imagine the intellectual caliber of the AMOSZ's

If she is unfamiliar with emigre organizations, why is she passing
judgement on them. AMOSZ is an umbrella organization, hundreds of
Hungarian communities, Churches support it. These are the people, who
collect money to help the refuges, and Hungarians in need everywhere. By
condemning their leaders we jeopardise all their humanitarian activities
as well. Those who can read Hungarian can find out what the AMOSZ is
doing from the homepage of the MVSZ (http:/ www.hungary.com) in the
latest issue of the "Magyar Figyelo" (vol. 4 no.5.). Here are some
examples: material and administrative support to the Hungarian Olympic
Team, material support though the Maltese Charitable Service to the
Hungarian communities in Romania, Serbia and Slovakia. Material support
for a school in Transylvania, etc.

I think if Eva would spend some time studying the history of Hungarian
emigre organizations, she would be embarrassed for not doing her share of
the work in the emigre organizations. Letting her money to do the work in
the Budapest stock market is fine, but not something to be proud of.

Barna Bozoki
+ - hungarian penfriend (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

I am looking for a Hungarian Pen-friend. Mail me:

I look forward to hearing from you.

+ - The Paris Peace Conference (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

I don't want to be bogged down in such trivial matter as what the translation
of the word "buta," but, I am afraid, Mr. Kristyan is simply not right when
he thinks that it simply means "silly."

Consider the following sentence in Hungarian: "A fiu olyan buta volt, hogy
majdnem minden evben megbukott legalabb harom tantargybol." "The boy was so
stupid that almost every year he failed at least three subjects." This is a
perfectly good Hungarian sentence and a perfectly acceptable English
translation. But try to say that "The boy was so silly that almost every year
he failed at least three subjects," and you will immediately realize that
there is something wrong.

Then, according to Mr. Kristyan:

>In a recent book (after 1990), "Hungary with no borderlines", I red :
>  During the Paris Treaty the Hungarian representatives had been arrested
>  and kept in a hotel room, while the Trianon counties reps. were free
>  to consult with the Great Powers.

I don't know what kind of so-called history you read but this was not so. The
only thing I can think of is that you actually read about Andrej Hlinka and
Frantisek Jehlicka, wo Slovak politicians, who traveled to Paris to convince
the Paris Peace Conference about Slovak autonomy but were arrested by the
French police on the orders of Benes.

Eva Balogh
+ - Re: Hungary 461 -- To Paul Gelencser on racism (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

(Re: Hungary 461 -- To Paul Gelencser on racism)

        Dear Paul Gelencser,

        you are asking for an honest discussion on race, racism.  Well, don't
keep your breath: it's not going to happen anytime soon.  People on a certain
side of this multi-faceted issue cannot afford it.  In the second half of
this century the charge "you are a racist" became the intellectual nuke, the
ultimate tool of character assassination.   Even if just threatened by it,
you better run for cover.  Furthermore: just being charged means that you
are guilty and sentenced forever, no parole.  Never mind, who made the
charges, never mind their merit.  So welcome in our beautiful pseudoliberal
world.  The self-proclaimed victim's feeling, perception, is the charge,
he/she is the prosecutor, his opinion is the testimony and he/she is the
judge.  Now who would give up such a potent weapon?  No one in his right
mind, particularly, if he himself realizes in his honest moments that many
of the views he is (currently) subscribing to are bankrupt.
        The real sad thing about this mindless, arrogant and messianistic
thought-policing is that it actually HELPS to spread racism.  If decent
people with differing views are being charged day in day out with it, many
of them will loose temper and decency.  It takes an awful lot of strength
to remain decent even if pounded with unjust charges.  Not all of us have
that strength.
        This is a huge topic and I could write a lot about it, but relax.
Just one thing: a favorite argument of the thought-police is that "yes,
we may overdo it, yes, sometimes charges later proved to be unfounded,
but *only because* we were vigilant and shamed our opponent into rethinking".
This line of thought ("it didn't happen *only because* we were screa-
ming", so even more screaming is warranted) is quite remarkable, to say the
least.  Let me illustrate it.
        I happen to be a guy who abhores any kind of physical violence.
Also, I love my girlfriend. Now let's assume that she starts to tell to her
(and possibly my) friends that I am planning to kill her why she is asleep.
Probably I would try to smile, not understanding what the hell is happening.
It must be a joke, even if a very bad one.  Now assume that she goes out
and starts telling the very same thing to strangers.  Frankly, I would be
a little bit upset; the smile on my face wouldn't be quite genuine anymore,
but still I would desperately try to understand what makes her do this.
Assume, that she would go to the police: at this point I would loose my
smile completely.  But assume now, that after all that happened, she says:
"yes, you didn't kill me, but only because I made everybody aware of your
vicious plan so you realized that you couldn't get away with it".  Now you
see, this is the point where I am not quite sure about myself anymore.
As I said, I hate violance, so probably I would still just walk out forever
from her life.  But if I search my soul, well, it is a distinct possibility
that at this point I would get so mad that I would slap her face.
        ABUSE!!!! ABUSE!!!!
        If you want peace between equals, think of this.  Otherwise, dont'

        Tamas Toth
+ - Re: The Paris Peace Conference (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

Regarding the "silly" arguments between Kristyan and Eva, I too, agree
with Eva: stupid = buta.  I feel the word "bolond" fits best the word
"silly", though the word "fool" is a better translation of "bolond".
Oh boy!  I don't envy people making their living from translation.

>Then, according to Mr. Kristyan:
>>In a recent book (after 1990), "Hungary with no borderlines", I red :
>>  During the Paris Treaty the Hungarian representatives had been arrested
>>  and kept in a hotel room, while the Trianon counties reps. were free
>>  to consult with the Great Powers.

Wasn't the title really "A nation without boundaries" from Istvan Sisa?
I think the title refers to a description of Hungary as a result of
Trianon:  perhaps the only country that borders itself (i.e., former
itself, or with Hungarians living outside and along its current

Joe Pannon
+ - Elnezest ker a kiado (mind) VÁLASZ  Feladó: (cikkei)

Kedves Olvasoink!
Elnezesuket kerjuk, de sajnos meg nem igazan tudjak az egyes szerverek a
magyar ekezetes irast.
udvozlettel Orczan Zsolt