Hungary's new government will on Wednesday disclose the identities of tens of thousands of state informants who operated between 1945 and 1989. This initiative, driven by Prime Minister Péter Magyar following his campaign promise during the April parliamentary elections, seeks to confront the country's communist history and rebuild public trust. During this period, state-security services utilized an extensive network of spies to monitor society and suppress dissent. While some individuals were coerced or blackmailed into reporting on neighbors, friends, colleagues, and even family members, others were recruited through promises of various advantages.
For decades, the full extent of this surveillance network remained hidden within the Historical Archives of the State Security services. Although researchers and relatives of victims had limited access, the files were largely inaccessible to the general public despite repeated calls for transparency. In September, the government passed a law facilitating the release of these documents, a move supported by more than two-thirds of the population according to polls. The publication was initially planned for the anniversary of the 1956 anti-Soviet revolution but was rescheduled for November 4.
Zoltán Tarr, the minister of social relations and culture, emphasized on Facebook that a democratic society has the right to know its past. With the introduction of a new searchable online database, researchers suggest Hungary will possess the most transparent former state-service records in the eastern bloc. István Papp, a historian and head of the academic department at the archives, described the move as opening wide a door that was previously left ajar. While he supports the release professionally, Papp expressed personal empathy for those who will face their family histories for the first time. Historians estimate that between 50,000 and 60,000 names appear in the files, with approximately 10% of these individuals still alive today.
The decision places Hungary within a broader context of former eastern bloc nations grappling with how and when to publish agent files. East Germany opened its Stasi files in 1992, followed by the Czech Republic in 2003 and Latvia in 2018. Miklós Kiss, a survivor of a Hungarian forced labor camp and president of an association for victims, noted that while he would have preferred an earlier release similar to Germany's example, the revelation will show that "there were traitors in every family, in every neighborhood and street." He questioned what society should do with this knowledge now.
The physical collection of documents is substantial; if placed side by side, they would stretch for three miles. However, Papp noted that the archive is smaller than those of Polish or Romanian secret services because many Hungarian files were destroyed during the 1956 uprising or disappeared during the gradual transition of 1989. Consequently, many records are incomplete regarding an agent's motivation or the extent of their reporting. Detailed files, background checks, and statements exist for only 9,000 of the 60,000 people mentioned. These specific records will be released in February after personal information concerning health, addictions, sexuality, and details about victims are redacted in accordance with privacy laws.
The human impact of these revelations is illustrated by Alexander Faludy, a journalist and Anglican priest who reviewed files on his family nearly two decades ago. His grandfather, György Faludy, spent over three years in a labor camp based on fabricated accusations. Faludy recalled reading a report written by a Hungarian woman living in London who had befriended his dying grandmother. Initially angry, Faludy's feelings shifted to pity upon discovering the informant's own file contained ominous details about her elderly parents still living in Hungary. He reflected that while exile offered his family certain moral luxuries, it made him hesitant to judge those who remained in Hungary under such pressure.
The identities of secret-service agents have long fascinated Hungarians, with partial lists emerging since the 2000s naming politicians and artists, often triggering political crises despite denials. To date, few former agents have spoken publicly, keeping the subject taboo. In July, the independent religious journal Szemlélek called for former agents to come forward, noting that religious figures were frequent targets of blackmail, with estimates suggesting 7-10% cooperated with the state. So far, no one has volunteered their story, with editor-in-chief Szilárd Szőnyi suggesting many feel their stories are too complex or that there is nothing to say.
Historian Domokos Szokolay hopes the release will foster understanding rather than public shaming. His father, poet and politician Zoltán Szokolay, was outed as an informant in an unofficial list published in 2005. Having yet to read all reports on his late father, Szokolay aims to encourage open conversations about transgenerational trauma. He argues that while confronting family history can be painful, it is ultimately better than silence, comparing the stigma of agent files to other family secrets like alcoholism or gambling addiction.
Sources: The Guardian World.