“Come on, it’s a pious lie, it’s no big deal”-Hungarian State News Agency editor said to former correspondent

A few years ago—in 2022, to be precise— when speaking at Tusványos, Viktor Orbán explained that while the peoples living in the Carpathian Basin may intermingle, the Hungarian people do not want to become “racially mixed”with those arriving from outside Europe. Within days, Orbán’s statement swept through the Hungarian and international public, and a few days later, journalists asked the then-Romanian Prime Minister, Nicolae Ciucă, what he thought of Orbán's speech. The Romanian leader called Orbán’s statements undesirable, and emphasized the importance of tolerance, understanding, and solidarity, and urged a commitment to European values. Árpád Gazda, who was the MTI’s correspondent covering Transylvania at the time, reported on the reaction, but his report ended up in the trash and was never published.

Later that same day, Gazda reported on another development: Hunor Kelemen, president of the party representing the Hungarian minority in Romania (RMDSZ) defended Orbán in an interview with a Transylvanian newspaper. He said that the speech in Tusványos was free of racism and that there was “not a shred of racism” in the Hungarian PM. The RMDSZ president also rejected accusations of Orbán being pro-Russian, stating that wanting peace does not necessarily make one a Putinist. MTI dropped this story too, and the explanation from the deputy editor-in-chief was brief: “There’s no need to keep this subject on the agenda.”

Kelemen standing up for Orbán, however, only intensified the debate in Romania: several Romanian politicians and commentators demanded his resignation and RMDSZ’s expulsion from the government. Klaus Iohannis, who was head of state at the time, expected a public explanation from the Hungarian minority's party: he asked them to clarify whether the RMDSZ politicians who had applauded Orbán’s speech agreed with his words. In response, Kelemen argued that the RMDSZ had fulfilled its coalition commitments and that Orbán was not speaking about Romania, the Romanian government, or the coalition in his speech at Tusványos. The report about this never saw the light of day either.

The reason these stories can now be reconstructed so accurately is that the Pro Domo working group—formed by MTI staff members covering foreign policy—kept records of internal correspondence, instructions, and chat messages for more than the past ten years. The public first heard about their 482-page collection in early August, when the journalists handed it over to MTVA’s new leadership. As a result, the management of Duna Médiaszolgáltató Zrt. ordered an internal investigation.

The aforementioned Transylvanian correspondent, Árpád Gazda, witnessed from the inside how professional decisions gradually became matters requiring approval, how news stories ended up getting shelved, and how reports were tailored to the needs of political communication. We spoke with him about topics which used to be subject to prior approval, news stories that needed to be approved by a government office, as well as the conflicts that ultimately led to his departure.

I started working at MTI at the end of 2011 and stayed there as the agency’s correspondent from Transylvania until the end of 2022-eleven years in total. Previously, MTI only had one correspondent in Romania—the one in Bucharest—who covered everything. But after Fidesz came to power in 2010, government politicians' visits to Transylvania became more frequent, and covering it all from Bucharest was no longer feasible. This likely contributed to them creating the position of a correspondent in Transylvania, and I was the first to fill it.

When you join such a large organization, you’re filled with fear: you don’t know whether you’ll meet the requirements, whether you can write news stories fast enough, or whether you’ll make mistakes. Because these are the requirements when working for a news agency: you should make as few mistakes as possible, and you have to work very quickly so that the news can be published as soon as possible.

I practically witnessed the transformation within MTI, watching as a news agency that initially fulfilled its duties gradually became a propaganda tool. I also experienced each stage of this process. I tried to carry out my duties so that my work remained professional and I could keep a clear conscience. But obviously, I, too, ended up becoming part of the machine which was misleading the public. I can see that clearly now.

Let me give you a very specific example, one that’s actually not even related to politics, but it reflects the approach of the leadership very well. I don’t remember the exact year; it may have been 2017. Each year, I needed to report on the Csíksomlyó pilgrimage. Ahead of the event, I also sent preliminary information: who the speaker would be, what the program was expected to look like, and they usually wanted a report from the scene shortly before the mass began, mentioning that a crowd of 100,000 had already gathered. The day before, the editor-in-chief had asked me to add a paragraph he had sent me to one of these preliminary reports. It was essentially MTVA's self-promotion, written in advance, about the bishops of the Carpathian Basin having met at the Duna House in Torockó the night before, where they watched a documentary by Ágnes Maksay and then discussed the film.

The editor-in-chief received the text of the paragraph from the management of the public media, which also operates the Duna-Ház in Torockó. I pasted the paragraph to my report, but before I submitted it, I made sure to verify the information in it. After all, the first rule of journalism is “don’t lie,” and the second is “try not to be wrong.” I called Ágnes Maksay to ask if the screening had taken place and if the bishops had come. She replied, “No, everyone arrived late; and although they wanted to screen the film, there was no audience to show it to.” Soon afterwards, I informed the editor-in-chief that I had deleted the paragraph because the event had not taken place.

He started arguing with me, insisting that the text had already been agreed upon and should have been included in the report. I remember him saying: “Come on, it’s a pious lie—it’s not a big deal".

I insisted that we shouldn't report that something happened when we know it didn't, or that it isn't true. When I saw that I wasn't going to convince him, I requested something I had done before, in similar situations: I said that if they were going to include it in my story, they should remove my name from the top of the article. One of the deputy editors-in-chief was sitting next to the editor-in-chief while we were talking and -whether intentionally or not- he ended up overhearing our discussion. In the end, he settled the matter in my favor.

For many years, however, reports containing such “white lies” were published by MTI on a daily basis. Starting in 2021, news stories about Péter Szijjártó always included the phrase “according to a statement from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,” but no such statement actually existed. It was a reference to a source that didn’t exist. What actually happened was that the reports were written by a former MTI employee who had joined the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the editorial staff was not allowed to make any changes to the reports. I’ve already said this in my previous interview: if an accountant references an invoice in bookkeeping that doesn’t exist, sooner or later they’ll end up in jail. At MTI, however, referencing non-existent sources was allowed in multiple news stories every day for years.

But that wasn’t the only problem with the news reports about Szijjártó. I remember when the Romanian and Hungarian foreign ministers met in Gyula for bilateral talks; an MTI news report citing a ministry statement was published about what Péter Szijjártó had said on the occasion. There was not a single word about what the Romanian Foreign Minister had said at the joint press conference. If one wanted to know about that, they had to check Agerpres [the Romanian state news agency—ed.]: there, they did a decent job of summarizing both what Szijjártó had said and what the Romanian Foreign Minister had said. The Romanian-language report was much more accurate than the Hungarian. The MTI correspondent was never even sent to Péter Szijjártó’s press conferences in Budapest, so the news reports always quoted only the Hungarian Foreign Minister. The other party with whom he held talks—and with whom he held a joint press conference—was nothing more than a decorative prop. These news reports always conveyed either a distorted reality, a partial truth, or an interpreted version of the truth.

Yes. News reporting became focused on politicians: when we went to Tusványos, our assignment wasn’t to write about the roundtable on minorities in the Carpathian Basin or the panel discussion on economic issues, but rather to “write about what Semjén said,” “write about what László Kövér said,” “write about this or that person.” The expectation was for the articles to be focused on Fidesz politicians.

It was also expected to include the politician’s name in the headline, followed by a colon and a quote from them. The politicians’ press secretaries would often call me beforehand requesting that I use this type of title. I never said yes. I always said: let’s wait for the event and we'll see what the politician has to say. If they make a statement worth putting in the headline, then that’s what we’ll do. If not, then we won’t. I refused to go along with this, which is why I often wound up in conflict with my bosses and, in many cases, with the politicians’ press secretaries as well.

I was often the subject of complaints made to my superiors. My immediate supervisor tried to defend me, and told me that as long as the complaints came to him, there was no problem, but if they were to be taken higher up, he wouldn’t be able to protect me anymore.

The recently published collection of reports on irregularities also includes a case relating to Zsolt Semjén’s appearance in Satu Mare. They added something to my news report at that time. When I saw this, I listened to the relevant part of the audio recording again to make sure the words weren’t spoken the way they appeared in the edited version of my report, and then submitted an objection. I asked them to either remove what they had added or delete my name from the report. Naturally, all hell broke loose in-house, and it turned out that my objection wasn’t entirely justified. Although the deputy PM didn’t say it exactly as it appeared in my report, he did in fact utter the half-sentence which had been inserted into my text. That’s how the editorial office operated.

This is why, in 2022, I felt that I shouldn't extend my contract at the end of the year. I always had a one-year contract, which was automatically extended for the following year unless either party indicated that they did not wish to do so. In the summer of 2022, I informed them that I would not be extending my contract and would be leaving MTI.

Yes, there were cases like that. We often wrote reports that ended up in the drawer. There was a rule according to which certain topics were “subject to approval.” This essentially meant that we had to give advance notice if we wanted to write a story about something and, so to speak, get the okay from the boss. And the boss always ended up advising us that it would be better not to write about it.

One such example was the case of the Szekler National Council. When the Szekler National Council was collecting signatures in 2020–2021 in connection with the European citizens’ initiative on national regions, we were not allowed to mention the names of Balázs Izsák, president of the Szekler National Council, or Attila Dabis, the council’s foreign affairs representative. During this period, the deadline for collecting signatures was extended several times due to the coronavirus.

Balázs Izsák would regularly announce the extensions at a press conference or in a press release. I would write up the story every time, and when I submitted it, I’d tell my superiors that the story I had just submitted to them was subject to approval, so we should coordinate. They said, “But Árpi, why are you telling us now? Tell us beforehand—don’t work in vain.”

And I would tell them, “Look, my job description says I’m supposed to report on important matters. If your job is to ensure that this story doesn’t get published, we should all just do our jobs.”

On one occasion—although I’d always thought this, I only dared to say it once—I added that I was convinced we would have to give an account of our actions, and this might not only happen before God’s judgment seat, but perhaps even sooner. And the above example, by the way, also highlights another issue. It is also a rule of journalism that one must always get the facts from the person concerned. This principle was constantly violated at MTI. In this case, this would clearly have been Balázs Izsák, since he was the chair of the initiating committee. But as far as MTI's news reports were concerned during this time, it was always from Viktor Orbán and other Fidesz politicians that one could learn about what Zelenskyy wanted, what Ursula von der Leyen wanted, what Brussels wanted, and what the Tisza Party wanted. Never from the actual people involved.

The rule at MTI was that a news story had to be published within an hour after the event. From 2017 on, I also coordinated the Romanian-language edition, and I usually had my own news stories translated too. I made sure to send my reports to the translator before they were published in Hungarian, so we could save time and ensure the translation was underway by the time the Hungarian version was released. It was then that I noticed that in many cases, the Romanian translation had long been ready, but the Hungarian report still hadn’t been published.

I started asking around to find out why the publication of the reports was taking so long. My colleagues informed me that they had to be sent for approval.

That’s how I found out that there was a Government Information Center—I think that was its euphemistic name—which operated within Antal Rogán’s ministry, and to which news reports covering certain topics had to be sent for approval.There were times when a report I had written sat on the censor’s desk for eight hours before it was finally approved and could be published.

As far as I know, materials about Hungarian politicians from Romania only had to be sent to the censor during election season. There was a high level of sensitivity during election periods, whether they were elections in Romania, Hungary, or for the European Parliament. I should add though that officially, I wasn’t aware that the news articles had to be sent to a censor. I only figured that out through some internal phone conversations, and it’s made clear from the recently published collection as well.

I mostly worked alone. Of course, there were times when I discussed things with colleagues—I even complained to them at times—but one still has a certain sense of loyalty to one’s workplace. And one doesn’t necessarily go to colleagues at other newsrooms to talk about how bad things are at their own place of work. On the other hand, my contract also stated that I couldn’t publicly criticize my employer either while the contract was in effect or afterward. If I had done that, they could have demanded that I pay back up to 30 percent of the payment I received over the years. However, it wasn’t just my money that was paid out to me, because I also coordinated the team translating into Romanian; so their pay would also be sent to my company, and I then passed it on to my translators.

They could even ask for some of my money back on account of this interview, but fortunately, times have changed, and I don't think I need to worry about that anymore. Before April, however, an interview like this would likely have had legal consequences.

The document is a rich collection of the directives that the bosses used to steer MTI off the path of professionalism, but there were many more cases of this. Most of my own cases, for example, aren’t included. I also kept notes on these sorts of farcical incidents. It’s important to note, however, that these notes were taken by my colleagues in the foreign affairs department. The really outrageous incidents most likely took place in the domestic affairs department. Of course, what the staff of the domestic affairs department wrote was far more sensitive for those in power. So what we have here is just a pale shadow of how things actually were.

I have no plans. I reread them before my interview with Válasz Online. I kept these notes because I knew they would someday become important, and I also knew that we tend to forget a lot of things. This way, if I ever need to, I’ll be able to recall exactly what happened.

I’m glad the truth has come to light, and I’m glad we can finally set the record straight. This is also important so that this never happens again. I’m getting the sense that the current government is also trying to interfere with journalists’ work. The best antidote is transparency. When professional standards are upheld, the result is accurate reporting, which promotes social cohesion and provides clarity. By effectively taking over the media and reshaping it into its own image, what Fidesz did was deprive people of their ability to stay informed. A great many people are still living under the influence of this distorted picture today.

It went wrong by not following the professional rules of journalism, but rather the rules of political communication. I think it’s perfectly fine for politicians to want to communicate. The problem wasn’t what the politicians were communicating, but how the news agency portrayed it.

Let me give you a specific example: according to the rules of political communication, you often need to repeat the same sentence over and over so that the message gets through to voters. In contrast, the rules of journalism require that we always seek out what’s new, that we highlight what no one has reported yet at the beginning of the story, in the headline, and in the lead. There were days at MTI when—in accordance with the rules of political communication—three or four news reports appeared with the same exact headline. For example, that Hungary is striving for peace despite Brussels’ pro-war stance, or that Hungary is striving for economic neutrality.

They quoted the same sentence from different politicians. This is why I'm calling out the former MTI leadership: they didn't stand up to political demands and they failed to uphold the integrity of our profession. Which led to the news agency becoming a propaganda machine.

There’s an analogy I mentioned in my interview with Válasz Online, and I still think it’s a good way to describe what happened. In Jules Verne’s novel, A captain at fifteen, a malicious character places a magnet near the ship’s compass, causing it to no longer point in the original, true direction but towards a distorted one. That’s pretty much what happened at the Hungarian News Agency too.

I feel that, through these interventions, politics had placed a magnet next to journalism’s compass, and the news reports no longer reflected reality, only what Fidesz politicians were saying about reality.