By Islam El-Sakka
Hungary's government will on Wednesday publish the names of tens of thousands of state informants from the communist era, fulfilling a campaign promise by Prime Minister Péter Magyar to confront the past and rebuild public trust.
Background of the secret police network
From 1945 to 1989, Hungary's state security services relied on a vast network of informants to monitor society and suppress dissent. Many were coerced or blackmailed into reporting on neighbours, friends, colleagues and even family members; others were recruited with promises of advantages. The "agent files" held in the Historical Archives of the State Security services remained largely inaccessible for decades.
Legislative move and public support
After Magyar's election victory in April, his government passed a law in September to make the files public, a move supported by over two-thirds of Hungarians according to polls. The release was delayed from the 1956 revolution anniversary to 4 November. Minister Zoltán Tarr stated that a democratic society has the right to know its past.
Scope and limitations of the archive
The archives contain 50,000 to 60,000 names, with historians estimating 10% are still alive. The documents would stretch three miles if placed side by side, but the collection is smaller than those of Polish or Romanian services. Many files were destroyed during the 1956 uprising and the 1989 transition. Detailed files exist for only 9,000 individuals and will be released in February after redacting sensitive personal information.
Personal impact and historical reckoning
The release has stirred complex emotions. Historian István Papp supports transparency but empathises with families confronting hidden histories. Survivor Miklós Kiss wished for earlier release like in East Germany. Journalist Alexander Faludy, whose grandfather was imprisoned, described mixed feelings upon reading an informant's file. Religious figures were heavily targeted, with estimates that 7-10% cooperated.
Calls for dialogue over shame
Historian Domokos Szokolay, whose father was named as an informant in 2005, hopes the release fosters understanding rather than public shaming. He encourages conversations about transgenerational trauma, comparing it to other family secrets. An independent journal's call for former agents to come forward has yielded no volunteers so far.
