This reminded me of Virág Kaufer, whose name became etched in my mind twelve years ago because she did something unusual in politics. She was an LMP politician in 2012 who, halfway through the parliamentary term, simply gave her parliamentary mandate back to the party because she felt that her abilities would be put to better use within the framework of civic resistance than in parliament. I believe there has been no example of this since then; we had to wait fourteen years for something similar to happen.
Politicians generally cling to their positions tooth and nail, as if they were some kind of spoils, and to this end they may even quarrel with their own party, blackmail, threaten, or turn to the public. For example, it is common for a politician to obtain a mandate under the banner of a party, then leave that party or be expelled from it, yet still refuse to give back their mandate, instead taking it with them to another, competing party (e.g. Dóra Dúró in 2018), or continuing as an independent.
Virág Kaufer was not particularly interested in being addressed as “Madam Representative,” the gilded parliament, public attention, or abundant financial rewards. She wanted to be of use to society, thought over her situation, and acted.
Fortunately, in everyday life it is not impossible to encounter people of such high integrity – I myself know people like this – but they do not usually embark on political careers. If they do, it is a sacrifice on their part, because their healthy personalities lack the receptors that would channel public acclaim into their egos. They do not crave the admiration of strangers; on the contrary, they recoil from it.
Perhaps the most striking audiovisual manifestation of this was the recent incident when the crowd began chanting the name of Ákos Hadházy, who was giving a speech at the MTVA headquarters. – “Hadházy, Hadházy!” – they shouted, to which the politician said: “Let's not do this!” The crowd was taken aback.
Politicians generally cling to their positions tooth and nail, as if they were some kind of spoils, and to this end they may even quarrel with their own party, blackmail, threaten, or turn to the public. For example, it is common for a politician to obtain a mandate under the banner of a party, then leave that party or be expelled from it, yet still refuse to give back their mandate, instead taking it with them to another, competing party (e.g. Dóra Dúró in 2018), or continuing as an independent.
Virág Kaufer was not particularly interested in being addressed as “Madam Representative,” the gilded parliament, public attention, or abundant financial rewards. She wanted to be of use to society, thought over her situation, and acted.
Fortunately, in everyday life it is not impossible to encounter people of such high integrity – I myself know people like this – but they do not usually embark on political careers. If they do, it is a sacrifice on their part, because their healthy personalities lack the receptors that would channel public acclaim into their egos. They do not crave the admiration of strangers; on the contrary, they recoil from it.
Perhaps the most striking audiovisual manifestation of this was the recent incident when the crowd began chanting the name of Ákos Hadházy, who was giving a speech at the MTVA headquarters. – “Hadházy, Hadházy!” – they shouted, to which the politician said: “Let's not do this!” The crowd was taken aback.
Generally, a person with a healthy personality takes on a political role when there is serious trouble and they feel they must help. Otherwise, they would rather live their ordinary life. An excellent literary portrayal of this phenomenon is one of the characters in Magda Szabó’s fairy novel Tündér Lala: Csill the pharmacist.