NEEDLING Hungary used to be an easy way for Slovakia’s populist prime minister, Robert Fico, to win nationalist votes. The previous centre-left government in Budapest disliked moves such as a language law that criminalises the public use of Hungarian in some contexts. But it did little about them. Since Hungary’s election in April put the hard-edged Viktor Orban in power, it is payback time. In its first serious piece of legislation, Hungary’s new Fidesz centre-right government is giving the 2.5m-odd ethnic Magyars abroad the right to Hungarian passports.
Hungarians still mourn their country’s dismemberment in the 1920 Treaty of Trianon. They feel keenly the slights, and worse, faced by kinsfolk in countries such as Slovakia, where Hungarians number 500,000, or 10% of the population. The new passport rules distract attention from the country’s economic plight, and the government’s incoherent approach to it. It undermines Jobbik, Hungary’s far-right opposition party. (It also, paradoxically, helps Jews in the diaspora to reconnect with Hungary, and to gain European Union passports.)
But Slovakia, independent for only 17 years and a Hungarian colony for centuries, finds it threatening. The Magyar minority is bigger in Romania, but the authorities there are in no position to complain about the citizenship law: they issue passports plentifully to compatriots in Moldova. Requests from Magyars in Slovakia to postpone the move until after that country’s general election on June 12th went unheeded. As feared, Mr Fico’s government promptly escalated the row, putting a retaliatory law through parliament. Slovaks must report the acquisition of dual citizenship or face a fine of more than $4,000. In most cases, they will also automatically lose their Slovak passport.
Dual citizenship is a thorny issue. The Czech Republic takes a tough line with the handful of remaining Sudeten Germans. Conversely, countries like Germany and Ireland (and Israel) are happy to restore ties with far-flung kinsfolk. But Mr Fico shuns nuance, talking of a Hungarian “brown plague”—a reference to the country’s fascist wartime government. And he has raised the spectre of Hungarian territorial claims. “Are we supposed to stand by as someone creates an enclave of their own citizens on Slovak territory?” he asked.
That was mild compared to the words of Jan Slota, leader of the racist Slovak National Party, a junior partner in Mr Fico’s coalition. He suggested armed conflict was possible, saying that the “militarisation” of Hungarian society was “rolling forward at a merciless pace”.
The new law could also force ethnic-Hungarian deputies to leave parliament. A dozen of them have said they may wish to acquire Hungarian citizenship. Opportunities for more rancour abound, dismaying outsiders. Hungary has now designated June 4th “National Unity Day” to commemorate the Trianon anniversary. That law refers to a “united Hungarian nation”, with “cohesion over state borders”. Relations used to be icy. Now they smell sulphurous.
Pandora’s passport
NEEDLING Hungary used to be an easy way for Slovakia’s populist prime minister, Robert Fico, to win nationalist votes. The previous centre-left government in Budapest disliked moves such as a language law that criminalises the public use of Hungarian in some contexts. But it did little about them. Since Hungary’s election in April put the hard-edged Viktor Orban in power, it is payback time. In its first serious piece of legislation, Hungary’s new Fidesz centre-right government is giving the 2.5m-odd ethnic Magyars abroad the right to Hungarian passports.
Hungarians still mourn their country’s dismemberment in the 1920 Treaty of Trianon. They feel keenly the slights, and worse, faced by kinsfolk in countries such as Slovakia, where Hungarians number 500,000, or 10% of the population. The new passport rules distract attention from the country’s economic plight, and the government’s incoherent approach to it. It undermines Jobbik, Hungary’s far-right opposition party. (It also, paradoxically, helps Jews in the diaspora to reconnect with Hungary, and to gain European Union passports.)
But Slovakia, independent for only 17 years and a Hungarian colony for centuries, finds it threatening. The Magyar minority is bigger in Romania, but the authorities there are in no position to complain about the citizenship law: they issue passports plentifully to compatriots in Moldova. Requests from Magyars in Slovakia to postpone the move until after that country’s general election on June 12th went unheeded. As feared, Mr Fico’s government promptly escalated the row, putting a retaliatory law through parliament. Slovaks must report the acquisition of dual citizenship or face a fine of more than $4,000. In most cases, they will also automatically lose their Slovak passport.
Dual citizenship is a thorny issue. The Czech Republic takes a tough line with the handful of remaining Sudeten Germans. Conversely, countries like Germany and Ireland (and Israel) are happy to restore ties with far-flung kinsfolk. But Mr Fico shuns nuance, talking of a Hungarian “brown plague”—a reference to the country’s fascist wartime government. And he has raised the spectre of Hungarian territorial claims. “Are we supposed to stand by as someone creates an enclave of their own citizens on Slovak territory?” he asked.
That was mild compared to the words of Jan Slota, leader of the racist Slovak National Party, a junior partner in Mr Fico’s coalition. He suggested armed conflict was possible, saying that the “militarisation” of Hungarian society was “rolling forward at a merciless pace”.
The new law could also force ethnic-Hungarian deputies to leave parliament. A dozen of them have said they may wish to acquire Hungarian citizenship. Opportunities for more rancour abound, dismaying outsiders. Hungary has now designated June 4th “National Unity Day” to commemorate the Trianon anniversary. That law refers to a “united Hungarian nation”, with “cohesion over state borders”. Relations used to be icy. Now they smell sulphurous.
