“Since there are no migrants”, declared a triumphant János Lázár, “and someone needs to clean the bathrooms on the InterCity trains — and because Hungarian voters are not particularly keen on cleaning others’ shitty toilets — we have to tap our domestic reserves. And in our case, this means the Hungarian Gypsies”.
Aside from not communicating a coherent stance on the government’s approach to labour shortages, the comment by the Hungarian Minister of Transportation and top-ranking Fidesz official was not a politically prudent one so close to the April 12 elections. “It was dishonest, and really hurtful”, tells me Menyhért, a Roma small business owner from Hódmezővásárhely — nicknamed ‘The Peasants’ Paris’ and the town which Lázár served as mayor for ten years.
Although Lázár has since been made to apologise for the remarks, Menyhért continues, “his apology is futile, and I don’t accept it”. He adds that as a resident of Lázár’s home district, the comments didn’t come as a surprise. Our conversation took place at a Tisza rally in Hódmezővásárhely, where his Roma flag flew alongside waves of Hungarian tricolours and placards bearing anti-corruption messages.
The Roma make up around 8% of Hungary’s population. Once a cornerstone of Fidesz’ rural electorate, sentiment among the community has begun to shift, and not just catalysed by events like Lázár’s comments. Hostility towards the Roma has gotten worse in recent years.
Cultural Clash
“There’s open and plain racism”, says Helena, who runs a Roma fashion design company with her sister Erika in Budapest. “It’s always been bad”, chimes in their elderly mother from an armchair in the corner, “but this would have been unimaginable twenty years ago!”.
Helena recounts various social problems — from the treatment of the devoutly Christian Roma community’s faith as ‘inferior’ by the Hungarian church, to the functional segregation of the education system. “There are schools where 95 per cent of the students are Roma (...), and they classify themselves as ‘German minority schools’ to get more funding per pupil”, she tells me.
The past decade and a half in Hungary has been marked by a narrative highlighting the increasing threat of outsiders, so it is not difficult to see why the Roma have gotten caught in the crossfire. A common thread throughout my conversations with the community – both rural and urban, young and old – is the increasing unfriendliness of Hungarian society to its largest minority.
“The narrative tells us that we Gypsies are not good as we are. We will be accepted if we leave behind our values, and try to be more like the [white] Hungarians”, continues Helena. Her frustration is garnished by vivid descriptions of young Gypsy women with bleached hair and poorly-filled plastic lips, attempting to appear more ‘white’.
But it is not just culturally that the Roma face marginalisation – in a nation as ethnically homogenous as Hungary, this has long been the case. By many metrics, Hungary is now the poorest country in Europe, and the Roma the poorest segment of its population.
Material Woes
Although catalysed by a child sex abuse scandal, Péter Magyar’s insurgence was built on compounding economic discontent. In 2023, Hungary saw a peak year-on-year inflation rate of 25% and central bank base interest rate of 13% – both records in recent European history. The effects of these, along with a stagnant minimum wage and laggard public infrastructure were at least equally responsible for the masses of anti-government protesters as ‘family-friendly’ Fidesz’ hypocritical coverup of paedophilia.
Since then, Magyar’s platform has been laser-focused on economic issues, like raising public wages and social spending, reforming taxes, and creating a more business-friendly environment. Part of the reason this message has resonated with voters is Magyar’s successful framing of the country’s economic woes ultimately all emanating from Fidesz’ corrupt, clientelist economic system.
Although this cronyism is most visible at the highest level – with Orbán’s son-in-law István Tiborcz and childhood friend Lőrinc Mészáros two of the preeminent owners of real estate, construction contracts and much of Hungary’s media landscape – a recent investigative documentary has made some stark revelations. The government’s system of patronage permeates to the individual level, with Roma voters frequently the victims of a targeted focus.
The price of a vote
A Szavazat Ára – “The Price of a Vote” – is a documentary produced by DE! Ackióközösség, a civil society organisation. Released on March 26th, just two weeks before the elections, it was an overnight success. It has garnered almost a million views overnight, and sits at 2 million (over 20% of the Hungarian population) at the time of writing.
In it, the filmmakers travel to 14 of Hungary’s 19 counties, and interview what the European Roma Rights Centre describes as a “sophisticated network” of people involved in large-scale voter manipulation. Chilling details expose how Fidesz associates offer voters a carefully-curated menu of carrots and sticks – ranging from food packages, low cash amounts, drugs and alcohol for the easily-persuaded, to threats of removal of public work and the confiscation of children for the less cooperative. The ‘price of a vote’ can be as low as 10,000 forints (26 euros).
With a focus on the poorest Hungarian settlements, often where Roma populations are concentrated, local operators are employed to ensure that 1) people vote, 2) they vote correctly. Aside from a catalogue of threats and treats, these ‘fixers’ escort voters to polling stations – sometimes intoxicating them first – and supervise their voting, generously offering to ‘help out’ when needed. According to the documentary, this system of voter persuasion and intimidation targets over half a million people.
With many of the featured whistleblowers Gypsy themselves, the success of the documentary could further indicate a Roma community pushed to its limit, forced to voice their discontent.
Feudal Fidesz
Beyond the patronage, the parallels to feudalism are most evident in the system of public work – the közmunka. Around 41% of employed Roma work in public work schemes organised by the government. With around 20% of all public workers in Hungary estimated to be Roma, közmunka is a significant source of livelihood to the community.
However, what on the surface seems a benevolent social programme, in reality acts as a self-reinforcing cycle between Roma precarity and Fidesz’ electoral dominance in the community. Many studies demonstrate a strong link between the percentage of a village's population employed in közmunka schemes and Fidesz’ electoral success in that village – and it is no surprise why.
Although many labour organisations consider the conditions and remuneration of közmunka employment as being in flagrant violation of modern slavery laws, for many Roma – around 97% of whom live in materially deprived households – it is a lifeline. When local enforcers dangle the threat of losing your employment in front of you, the electoral choice is clear.
The Alternative
To some critics, Péter Magyar and Tisza do not represent a significant departure from Fidesz policy. A former Fidesz MP himself, Magyar has tread carefully on a range of issues, including Ukraine, migration, and the LGBT, in order to avoid alienating disillusioned Fidesz voters.
However, in his attempt to appeal to as broad an electorate as possible, Magyar has made some promises to the Roma community. Other than the broader benefits the deeply impoverished may reap as a result of unblocking 20 billion euros of frozen EU funds, Magyar has also committed to allocating 10% of Tisza’s shortlist of candidates to Roma representatives. This could raise the number of Roma members of parliament from zero to five or six.
Although they have reason to remain cautious, a Roma community once loyal to Fidesz has begun to distance itself from the ruling party. With almost a week left to go and polling still inconclusive, the Roma vote – albeit not monolithic – could prove to be decisive.