Hungarians have been embarrassed in recent months by the case of a group of 47 gypsies, or Roma, who fled the village of Zamoly last summer and took their case to the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg. In recent weeks, France has granted political refugee status to 15 of the group, embarrassing the government in Budapest and raising worries in Hungary that the country's entry to the EU might be delayed by member states fearing an influx of Roma.
The plight of the Zamoly refugees highlights a long train of flagrant mishandling of the Roma by the local population. But the Zamoly case also stands out because it is so unusual.
The vast majority of gypsies in Hungary appear determined to stay put. With Roma from Romania, Slovakia and other parts of eastern and central Europe arriving in western Europe in increasing numbers, why is Hungary's large gypsy minority eager to remain at home? The political and economic upheavals in Hungary in the past decade have hit the Roma hardest, and their position has been one of the prickliest problems in the formal negotiations for EU membership. During a visit to Budapest in April, the President of the European Commission, Romano Prodi, said the issue of the gypsy minority had to be resolved as a condition for EU membership.
Hungary's gypsies, present in large numbers since at least the mid-16th century, played an honorable role in the struggles for liberation in the 18th century, and during the second World War, at least 30,000 were killed in the Nazi death camps. Today, there are up to 800,000 in a country of 10 million, with over half living in the north and east, across the Great Plain and up to the borders with the Ukraine and Romania.
Although more than two-thirds of Hungary's population live in cities and large towns, the gypsies typically continue to live in small towns and villages, often separated from the majority population and with well-founded complaints of discrimination in education, employment, health care and housing. In a recent report on progress on treatment of Hungary's gypsy minority, but pointed out that because of poor health and living conditions, they live 10 years less than the national average, while less than 46 per cent of Roma children complete primary education. And yet there appears to be a determination on the part of the government and many local authorities to face the problems, and Hungary's gypsies seem determined to stay and fight for their rights.
Traditionally Hungary's gypsies were musicians, brick-makers, building workers, craft-workers, traders and woodworkers. But they were hit hardest by the economic and social upheavals immediately after the collapse of communism. In the past 10 years, almost three-quarters of working gypsies have lost their jobs, and in many of the poorer towns and villages, between 95 and 100 per cent are unemployed.
The Friday-evening train from Budapest to Debrecen in the east, once known as the "Black Train", carried commuting gypsy building workers and labourers back to their provincial homes and was notorious for drunken passengers, gambling, thefts and brawls. Today, 50,000 people or 10 per cent of the population in the county around Debrecen, are thought to be Roma. But, says Jozsef Layer, president of Hajdu-Bihar county assembly, "we have no major problems living together". All agree the fight in Debrecen and the surrounding towns and villages is for investment, jobs and education.
At the town's Romany Cultural Centre, a prominent local gypsy leader, Istvan Aba-Horvath, says the issues confronting the gypsies in the area are education, racism, living conditions, housing and unemployment. "We suffer from lack of empathy and solidarity from the local society," he says, but he sees the local political leaders as partners. "Basically there are no problems that can't be solved by joint efforts." The small town of Hajduhadhaz to the north is typical in the region: with 13,000 people, Roma account for 2,500, or almost 12 per cent, of the population. Since the local timber factory closed there is no industry in the town, the town council is the one pricipal employer (581), and unemployment at 25 per cent is above the national average. But with 95 per cent of the town's gypsies unemployed, they complain they are bearing more than their share of the burden.
The town's gypsies complain that their children are segregated at school, and accuse the mayor of Hajduhadhaz, Laszlo Beres, of vetoing plans for a new vocational training school that would benefit the Roma population more than others, providing basic industrial skills and training. At a recent public meeting in the town-hall, there was anger among the gypsy leaders when the mayor passed around photographs showing the appalling living conditions of one Roma family.
Jozsef Horto claimed the photographs were produced to "put down" the Roma. "Why not show the good houses and the good Roma?" he demanded. When the mayor claimed gypsies were involved in stealing fruit and vegetables from gardens and fields and said the local field guards were unable to protect the crops, Horto pointed out that unemployment was high and "most people steal". In Sandor Lokos and his company, acutely aware of the poverty facing many young gypsy families, is providing vocational and educational opportunities for young gypsies - training them as bricklayers, house painters, welders, social workers, home nurses, nurse assistants, and timber, farm, and sanitation workers. In the village of Hodasz, 60 kilometres north of Debrecen, Lokos has worked closely with Father Gabor Gelsei and the local Greek Catholic parish. Beside the church, where the liturgy is celebrated in Romany, a new community centre provides meals, nursing and health care, and for the first time, many families have access to clean water. Working with Lokos' company, the parish is now providing training and back-to-school opportunities for adult gypsies to complete their high-school education and for young women to train as nursing assistants.
Programmes such as these help local gypsies to stay in the communities they have identified with for generations. Instead of taking the "Black Train" in search ofwork on the building sites of Budapest, many villagers now go there as entrepreneurs. Asked whether the leader of the Zamoly Romanies had ever visited Hodasz, Father Gabor says: "No, but if he did, he would see what to do in Zamoly". However, he questions central government commitment: "With the exception of the fire brigade, I have not encountered any programme developed by the previous government".
Back in Debrecen, Aba-Horvath has great hopes when it comes to Hungary's expected EU membership: "When we will have equal access in all areas, including employment, education and housing". And yet, he worries: "I don't want to raise a nightmare scenario, but if we can't manage it this time, I don't think we can ever manage it."
Some EU states are demanding a transition period before allowing entry to workers from new member states. But Prodi believes those fears are unfounded. In Budapest last month, he said he did not believe "that the accession of new members would trigger a mass migration wave" towards the current member states.
Unlike other minorities - such as the Germans, Slovaks, Croats and Romanians - Hungary's gypsies have no other homeland. They insist Hungary is their home, and Florian Farkas, head of the gypsy self-government, says the sad story of the Zamoly group is a "warning sign" with one message: "Attention now should be focused on those, over a half-million, who want to stay in Hungary".
pcomer@irish-times.ie