Confiscating the Past: Memory Politics under Illiberal Democracy in Budapest’s Kossuth Square

Confiscating the Past: Memory Politics under Illiberal Democracy in Budapest’s Kossuth Square

Graziela Ares

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Keywords: memory politics, monuments, illiberal democracy, historicity, constitutional identity

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In July 2011, the Hungarian Parliament approved Resolution 61/2011 (VII. 13) OGY (hereinafter, PR61/2011)[1] to refurbish Lajos Kossuth Square in Budapest, which is located in front of the Parliament itself. Approved by a two-thirds supermajority under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s government, the resolution called for the restoration of the square to its “pre-1944 artistic image,”[2] and the Imre Steindl Program was created to lead the work. So far, the mandated renovations have affected the Parliament building, the landscape, the monuments, the underground, and the buildings adjacent to the square, such as the Ministry of Agriculture and the Palace of Justice, the latter of which housed the Museum of Ethnography from 1974 until 2017.[3] Importantly, months earlier the year 1944 was mentioned in the Preamble to the Hungarian Constitution (or the Fundamental Law, as it is officially called), approved in April 2011.[4] Officially titled the National Avowal (Nemzeti Hitvallás), the Preamble affirms that Hungary lost its sovereignty and self-determination following the German occupation in 1944 and that it was restored only in 1990 with popular elections.[5] According to the Preamble, Hungarians were not accountable for their fate during those years, and consequently, the period does not belong to the collective memory of the nation—meaning the era should not be represented in “Hungary’s main constitutional square.”[6] If not there, where do Hungary’s historical experiences between 1944 and 1990 find their place, then? If not to Hungarians, then to whom does that period truly belong? Supposedly drawing their legitimacy from the “voting booth revolution”[7] of 2010 and claiming to represent the will of the Hungarian people, the new political supermajority in 2011 took agency over the past, visible in the case of Kossuth Square, in how its particular anachronistic and ethno-ideological morals affected the marks of time, contemporaneity, authenticity, and historicity in the area.

Across its existence, Kossuth Square exemplifies the political use of history and monumental space. Originally designed to glorify the Austro-Hungarian Dual Monarchy (1867–1918), it was extensively monumentalized under the Horthy regime (1920–1944), which sought to restore national pride after World War I. The square was rebuilt after 1945, with communist symbols replacing the monarchical, and then again reinterpreted in the post-1989 period of democracy to include the commemoration of previously repressed memories. Nonetheless, this research uses it as a case by which to analyze how illiberal democracy has been using a political and ostensibly democratic instrument (the vote) within republican institutions (the Parliament) to reach a “democratic-like revisionism” in the 21^st century. This study touches on the problem of the fate of images and symbols from an inconvenient past, as well as the right of future generations to experience vestiges of the historical past in the city fabric.

Methodology

This research uses an interdisciplinary framework spanning history and memory studies. Through Actor-Network Theory,[8] which examines how macro actors (in this case, the state) employ devices such as monuments to translate their codes (laws) into culture (and national identity), an analysis of objects through images is combined with field observations within their spatial, symbolic, and material context in Kossuth Square. In addition, expert interviews, official documents, and media reports were analyzed to assess how the entire process has affected the individual and collective profile of the square and its monuments since 2011. The study also incorporates a selected normative ground—specifically PR61/2011 and the 2011 Fundamental Law—to examine the renovation of Kossuth Square under the Imre Steindl Program, outlining the drivers of the intended historicity and the mechanisms employed to resolve related disputes. The case demonstrates how the Fundamental Law and its Preamble have functioned as meta-references legitimizing a politically convenient revision of monuments, often lacking evidence-based arguments. The resulting reification of the past has contributed to igniting nationalism, while potentially undermining citizens’ capacity to rely on the authenticity of public spaces to create their own imaginaries of the past. The overall purpose of the study is to contextualize the modus operandi through which materiality has been used to create and occupy symbolic spaces in an illiberal democracy.

The Paradox of Illiberal Democracy

It is both plausible and relevant to debate when exactly Hungary, under Orbán, ceased to be a democracy, and how and why this happened. Nonetheless, that is a complicated issue that this study does not aim to address. Important here is to clarify whether the contradiction inherent in referring to Hungary as an “illiberal democracy”—while the European Parliament described it as no longer democratic[9]—may affect the findings of this research. The short answer is no. Having functioning mechanisms and institutions does not necessarily equate to being democratic. This study focuses on these ostensibly democratic mechanisms and institutions, such as elections and parliament, to show how they have been manipulated to legitimize and put into action the illiberal views of the hegemonic elite. Therefore, given that illiberalism entails the suppression of individual liberties to a degree incompatible with the rule of law and the full exercise of democratic rights, there is no contradiction; rather, the paradoxical features of illiberal democracies again emerge.^[10]

In 2014, during his speech at the 25^th Bálványos Summer Free University and Student Camp, Orbán first publicly mentioned the construction of an “illiberal state” (illiberális állam), a formulation later widely interpreted and popularized as “illiberal democracy” (illiberális demokrácia).[11] However, years earlier, the process that culminated in the adoption of the Fundamental Law had already raised red flags both domestically and internationally, particularly among EU institutions and the Venice Commission.[12] As early as 2011, complaints regarding Hungary’s noncompliance with the Treaty on European Union had also sparked debates in the European Parliament and among civil society organizations.[13]

The European Parliament formally declared Hungary as no longer a full democracy in September 2022,[14] after the major transformation of Kossuth Square had taken place. Nonetheless, the evidence shows that the European Parliament had concerns for over a decade. To support this, two search queries using “Hungary + fundamental + rights” and “Hungary + rule of law” were conducted on the Legislative Observatory web portal.[15] Among 41 selected and examined procedures filed in the European Parliament between 2011 and 2022, Hungary was mentioned as a Geographical Area in 18 documents, and together with Poland in 2 others. The remaining 21 procedures were related to issues common to all member states. Of the complaints specifically against Hungary, 16 documents concerned fundamental rights and 15 concerned the rule of law.[16] These figures demonstrate that the debates around Hungary’s domestic politics endured.

Regardless of its technical democratic or nondemocratic status, the fact is that fundamental rights and democratic values in Hungary were degraded rapidly during Orbán’s regime. Furthermore, this study extends and combines the analysis of the symbolic, normative, and material dimensions of this process, aiming to contribute to further work and assessments in this area.

The Normative Grounds

The PR61/2011 resolution states:

• §1. In the interest of the dignified development of Lajos Kossuth Square in Budapest as Hungary’s main constitutional square in the foreground of the Parliament building, (…)
• §2. (…) (e) the square can be restored to its pre-1944 artistic image while commemorating the victims of the tragic 1956 shooting and providing a fitting setting for the works of art currently on display in the square.[17]

PR61/2011 decided the fate of Kossuth Square and its material and symbolic elements, yet it was not based on any public referendum, but rather on political will, legitimized by the vote of a legislature with a two-thirds Fidesz majority elected in 2010. Without providing scientific, technical, artistic reason, or details on how it would be implemented, the resolution designated the year of 1944 as the watershed for the future concept for “Hungary’s main constitutional square.” The reference can be found in the Preamble to the Fundamental Law states:

We date the restoration of our country’s self-determination, lost on the nineteenth day of March 1944, from the second day of May 1990, when the first freely elected organ of popular representation was formed. We shall consider this date to be the beginning of our country’s new democracy and constitutional order.[18]

This represents the regime’s verdict on the period between 1944 and 1990. Typically sentimental content and less formal language are found in Preambles, owing to the fact that they are where the authors may express the values that guided their work.[19] However, because of Article R,[20] the Preamble has a normative status and thus may be used to interpret the Fundamental Law. In other words, the parliamentary majority that approved the Preamble, loaded with ideological content and carrying normative force, when the new constitution was adopted, created a meta-reference that was used a few months later in PR61/2011 to refurbish Kossuth Square.

The suspension of Hungary’s “self-determination” between 1944 and 1990, along with the suspension of Hungary’s “historic constitution due to foreign occupations,”[21] exemplify ideological interpretations of an idealized past in the Preamble that are disconnected from the historical experience. The following section outlines the key dimensions of national identity written into the new Constitution that are pertinent to the present analysis, such as the invocation of historical references, the construction of an ethnocultural conception of the nation, and the framing of collective memory in the Fundamental Law. King Saint Stephen (c. 975–1038),[22] as well as the genesis of millenary traditions, such as the historical constitution[23] and the Doctrine of the Holy Crown,[24] are among the textual remarks to Hungarian historical identity and mark the beginning of this analysis.

In modern societies, as noted by Nora, “I am asked to become what I am,”[25] and the memory-identity symbiosis has become a duty or a civil religion.[26] By defining itself in the Fundamental Law as “a living framework which expresses the nation’s will and the form in which we [the members of the Hungarian nation] want to live,”[27] duty is included in the basic law. After a blessing of the Hungarians from God,[28] the Preamble clarifies who “WE, THE MEMBERS OF THE HUNGARIAN NATION…” are,[29] and it builds an imaginary for this “we”: European Christians united a thousand years ago by King Stephen under the historical constitution and the Doctrine of the Holy Crown and sharing firm conservative values grounded in “loyalty, faith, and love” (a hűség, a hit és a szeretet).[30] United in spirit, the members of the Hungarian nation carry on, despite the “storms” and “moral decay”[31] of the last century. Scholarly interpretations of the Preamble suggest that the ethno-cultural nation, its nationals, and the members of the political community (or political nation) are intertwined.[32]

A historical constitution is an informal, spiritually-rooted framework emerging through experience over centuries and generations—rather than a single document enacted by identifiable authors.[33] Article R(3) of the Hungarian Fundamental Law requires interpretation of the law in light of the “achievements of… [Hungary’s] historical constitution,”[34] while Article R(1)[35] establishes the new Constitution, a unified codified charter adopted by a qualified supermajority, as the base of Hungary’s legal system. This inconsistency between form and content marks a rupture with Hungary’s uncodified constitutional past tradition. Schweitzer further notes that the historical constitution and the Doctrine of the Holy Crown belonged to the monarchical system, which came to a close many decades ago.[36] Attributing substantive legal force to these monarchical legacies is therefore historically untenable and risks reducing the constitutional narrative to an anachronism.

Besides the German occupation (1944) and the free election of popular representatives (1990), other historical events and dates, such as the communist constitution (1949) and the Revolution (1956), are also mentioned in the Fundamental Law and its Preamble. Historical experiences are subordinated to the command of the norm, and political decisions define what is or is not part of a country’s history and how events should be judged and remembered. The non-recognition by the Fundamental Law of the period between 1944 and 1990 or the constitution of 1949 are attempts to alienate in “some mundane historical reality” events such as the “Holocaust in Hungary, social exclusion, the alliance with the Third Reich,”[37] and the history of the organic transformation of society over time. It is also a way to dissociate the share of responsibility of Hungarians from the fate of their country, taking the role of the victim of the world wars and communism. However, replacing guilt with long-lasting sympathy and admirable resiliency[38] will only succeed if the marks of time are wiped away, hence this work’s  focus on the renovation of Kossuth Square.

The Fourth Amendment of the Fundamental Law (Article U), passed in 2013, condemns the communist regime, the Hungarian Socialist Workers’ Party (MSZMP), and its legal predecessor and affects the rights of their former leaders.[39] Custody of the archives related to the regime were transferred to the state as if to guarantee transparency.[40] However, it is not clear whether the control of evidences is genuinely meant to serve the interests of civil society and scientific history or rather shape the politics of memory of the current political community.

PR61/2011 represented the materialization of a normative concept of a nation drawn up in the Fundamental Law months earlier. Even though the Fundamental Law and the Resolution were passed, according to the established rules of the democratic system, by a supermajority vote in Parliament, there was not a pluralistic debate that included, for example, a fair public consultation or independent technical opinions. Therefore, the essence of PR61/2011 is more political than technical.

The Imre Steindl Program and the Politics of Technicality

In 2011, to translate the legislation into the spatial and symbolic redesign of Kossuth Square and manage it, the Parliament created the Imre Steindl Program, taking the name of the famous Hungarian architect who designed the Parliament Building. In 2016, it became a state-owned limited company by a government resolution,[41] and it is operational as of this writing. The new legal status of the Imre Steindl Program was accompanied by administrative changes, such as the transfer of procurement from Parliament to the management of the new company, increasing its autonomy.

Starting in 2011, the Program was directed by Tamás Wachsler, a Hungarian architect and former politician, who remained its sole chief executive officer until his passing in March 2025. Wachsler was an undergraduate student at the University of Applied Arts in Budapest in the late 1980s, when he joined the Alliance of Young Democrats (Fiatal Demokraták Szövetsége; FIDESZ), created in 1988. In 1990, it had an image as a radically liberal opponent of communism and the Marxist-Leninist state. In its early years, human rights, a secular state, strong democratic institutions, and criticism of nationalist-conservative ideology were part of the FIDESZ political agenda.[42] Wachsler was elected to Parliament, serving from 1990 to 1998, when the architect agreed not to seek another mandate following his unsuccessful bid against Orbán in the 1994 party leadership election. He subsequently joined Orbán’s first government (1998–2002), serving as state secretary for public administration in the Ministry of Defense between 1998 and 2000. By then, however, FIDESZ had already shifted ideologically toward Christian-nationalist conservatism.[43]

In 2019, Wachsler described himself, in an interview, as someone qualified to lead the renovation of Kossuth Square, citing his knowledge of the logic of the legislation and his experience with state projects.[44] He mentioned that the daily politics of the country was no longer part of his life and did not comment on present developments. The architect also said:

But that [work for the Program] doesn’t make me a politician. Politics has decided that the surroundings of the Parliament must be redesigned, and my role in this is professional: to implement the decision to the best of my ability. I am especially fortunate that I can not only live [my life] with the program but also identify myself with it. Moreover, in the case of Kossuth Square, political decisions were not made in a political way.[45]

During the same interview, when asked if the removal of monuments dedicated to Imre Nagy, Mihály Károlyi, or the Revolution of 1956 was a political act, Wachsler changed his tone:

I would not have liked to demolish them. The organic development of the square began in 1906 with the erection of the Andrássy statue and it was completed by the mid-1930s. However, after World War [II], an idiotic, sick regime demolished the work and even destroyed most of the statues.[46]

This research is not centered on any single individual. However, it is difficult to argue that the Program is not political in nature when its head uses the words “egy idióta, beteg rezsim” (“idiotic, sick regime”) to justify the removal of the monuments from Kossuth Square, while omitting the historical context of the period in which the original preferred monuments were erected: the Horty Regime (1920–1944). Wachsler portrays the Program’s approach of relocating rather than demolishing the undesirable monuments as more noble than that of the Communists. His argument is ideological rather than technical.

Local Context

Drawing on the work of József Mélyi, this section shows that the transformation of Kossuth Square after 2011 is not an isolated case, but rather part of a broader strategy promoted by the Orbán regime of symbolic and material reconfiguration in Budapest that intended to reclaim areas perceived as “desacralized” or corrupted by former socialist and liberal administrations and “sanctify” them again.^[47] The origins of this process can be traced to Viktor Orbán’s first administration (1998–2002), which laid important foundations for memory politics. Steps included the 1998 relocation of the National Theatre to a new building regarded as “purer”; the 2000 transfer of the Holy Crown to Parliament; and the 2002 opening of the House of Terror, which introduced a sacrificial narrative of national victimhood.^[48] After 2010, this reconsecration intensified, favoring an idealized pre-1944 historical landscape. This tendency is most visible in the National Hauszmann Program launched in 2014 for architectural reconstruction to restore the Buda Castle district as a sacralized administrative and symbolic center. Similarly, Liberty Square was transformed into a didactic stage in 2014 with the Monument to the Victims of the German Occupation, presenting Hungary as an innocent victim and obscuring domestic complicity. This narrative is framed by the statues of Ronald Reagan (2011) and George H. W. Bush (2020), which contribute to a reinterpretation of the 1945 Soviet War Memorial.

Parallel initiatives, such as the Liget Budapest Project (2013), have facilitated the reorganization of the historic city center by relocating cultural institutions, among them the Museum of Ethnography, which was moved from Kossuth Square in 2017 to City Park. This process contributes to a spatial reordering of culture within the capital. By replacing opportunities for critical historical engagement with simplified, “consumable” objects, the illiberal politics of memory is further reinforced through the proliferation of so-called genre statues depicting everyday life scenes, such as those representing Sisi (2019) at Madách Square and Lieutenant Columbo (2014) at Falk Miksa Street. These works reduce history to a form of photogenic kitsch aligned with the logic of the “society of the spectacle,” in which public space loses its authentic character and becomes a backdrop for social media and propaganda. In this process, the memory of key democratic moments, such as the 1956 Revolution and the 1989 transition, is increasingly marginalized.

Orchestrated by influential actors, including Mária Schmidt and László Kövér, these decentralized interventions collectively produce what Mélyi coins a “landscape of cult” (kultusztáj).^[49] This landscape prioritizes ethnonational sacralization over republican traditions and seeks to fix a static image of an idealized past within the urban fabric, providing the framework through which the transformation of Kossuth Square can be interpreted.

Kossuth Square: Monuments in Motion

This article recognizes the difference between the history of Kossuth Square and the history of its buildings,[50] and it will focus exclusively on the square, including the extended pedestrian area built by the Imre Steindl Program after 2011.

The area on the banks of the Danube River that served as a port was initially named after its functions, such as City Harbor Square.[51] The construction of the Parliament building began in 1885, while the name Parliament Square was adopted only in 1896. During the Horthy regime, in 1927, the square was renamed Lajos Kossuth Square to honor the noble coleader of the Hungarian Revolution of 1848–1849. Since 2011, the renovation of the square has led to the improvement of many functions of the square and the public space. The area, already well served by public transportation, became a car-free zone with access for trams, bikes, and pedestrians. It is now a safer area and more attractive for visitors and passersby. The existing parking spaces were replaced by an underground garage and nearby traffic was controlled or reduced.

There were also issues with the new design. Large trees were replaced by bushes and grassy fields that increased the visibility of the concrete and man-made features of the square and eliminated any protection from the sun. The grass cannot be walked on, and the garden cannot be used for leisure. Despite its benches, the square is a passage—a space where commuters transit and a place to visit but with little appeal to spend any length of time.[52]

The square’s monuments were also affected by the Program. This section analyzes the samples listed in Table 1 and focuses on a few relocations (in, out, and within), one replacement, and one new addition in the square. Other interventions, especially the less material ones, such as restorations or a change in the surroundings of objects, are not covered here.

INVESTIGATED MONUMENTS	PERIOD IN THE SQUARE (BEFORE 2011) & AUTHOR	PROGRAM’S INTERVENTION: DATE AND AUTHOR	TYPE OF INTERVENTION
Symbolic Gravestone of the Victims of October 25, 1956	1991: Imre Makovecz & László Gömbös	2014	Relocated to a subterranean memorial-exhibition space Original object recontextualized
Statue of Poet Attila József	1980: László Marton & György Vadász	2014: György Vadász	Relocated within the square Original object recontextualized
Lajos Kossuth and his political group	1927–1952: version by János Horvay and contribution from Antal Fischer 1952-2015: version by Zsigmond Kisfaludi Strobl, András Kocsis & Lajos Ungvári	2015: replica (sculptor not identified during the field work)	Replaced version Use of replica
Count Gyula Andrássy	1906–1945: György Zala	2016: replica by András Engler, Polgár Botond, & János Molnár Meszlényi	Returned to the square Use of replica
Eternal Flame of the 1956 Revolution	1996–2016: Mária Lugossy with contribution of Béla Hámori[53]	2016	Relocated out to Imre Nagy Sq. (2 km away) Original object recontextualized
Imre Nagy statue	1996: Tamás Varga	2018	Relocated out to Mari Jászai Sq. (1 km away) Original object recontextualized
National Martyrs’ Memorial	1934–1945: Füredi Richárd & Jenő Kismarty-Lechner	2019: replica by Imre Elek	Returned to the square Use of replicas
Memorial of National Unity (also known as Trianon Memorial, National Cohesion or National Solidarity)	Not applicable	2020: Balázs Zimay and Sándor Mohácsi	New addition in the square

Table 1. Monuments of Kossuth Square reviewed in this research

Serving here as an analytical tool, Figure 1 illustrates the transformation of the square’s layout between 2010 and 2021, along with the corresponding alterations to its monuments. In the image, existing monuments are marked by numbers (presences), while missing objects are indicated by letters (absences).

Figure 1. Layout of Kossuth Square in 2010 (upper) and 2021 (lower), showing the presence and absence of selected monuments.

Source: Google Earth, edited with GIMP. Retrieved November 6, 2025. Coordinates displayed in the images.

Following the chronology of interventions, the Symbolic Gravestone of the Victims of October 25, 1956,[54] constitutes the first case examined. The gravestone was said to have been illegally installed.[55] It bears a medal of the Hungarian Political Prisoners Association on its surface.^[56] Designed by Imre Makovecz and completed with reliefs by László Gömbös, the austere monument enabled spontaneous expression of metamorphic subjectivities through the strong anti-communist messages written on it.[57] Positioned in front of the Parliament Building (Figure 1, upper–ref. 1), the tomb’s funerary symbolism could evoke discomfort, yet it also served as a site of remembrance, condolence, and respect among those mourning the victims of the massacre in the square. For this reason, it was a legitimate social representation, in contrast to other monuments in the square, which Gerő describes as attempts to spiritualize the political power and fantasies of the time.[58]

Although PR61/2011 referred to restoration of the Square to its pre-1944 image, it also pledged to commemorate the victims of 1956. Yet in 2014, the gravestone was relocated from the square to a new memorial-exhibition venue managed by the Parliament Museum, called In Memoriam October 25, 1956 (Figure 1, lower–ref. 10).[59]The former location of the gravestone in the square is now empty and has been incorporated into the wide paved area at the main entrance of the Parliament Building (Figure 1, lower–ref. F).

Figure 2. Symbolic Tomb of the Victims of October 25, 1956, located in the rotunda of the In Memoriam 1956 memorial-exhibition.

Source: Personal archive.

In the Parliament’s ventilation tunnel beneath the square, the Hungarian architect Bence Vadász designed a space for an exhibition on the uprising, which culminates in a “sanctuary-like” rotunda (Figure 2).[60] It fosters forgetting more than remembering the 1956 events. Public access has changed, and the spontaneous encounters once possible in the square have been replaced by institutional controls that regulate how and when mourning and tributes occur (Figure 3, left). Visitors still find subtle ways to honor the victims, such as a candle placed at the venue’s entrance, defying chains and security cameras (Figure 3, right).

Figure 3. Entrance of In Memoriam 1956.

Credit: Personal archive.

The second monument to be presented is the statue of poet Attila József[61] (Figure 4, left), created by the sculptor László Marton and architect György Vadász, which occupied an area of the south bank of the square (Figure 1, upper–ref. 5) from 1980 until 2014. This location was until 1945 occupied by the monument of Count Andrássy,[62] which will shortly be introduced here.

Figure 4. Monument to the poet Attila József on the Danube riverbank.

Credit: Personal archive.

Although the statue did not belong to the 1944 configuration pursued by the Program, the tribute to the poet ultimately survived and remained in the square. Nonetheless, with Vadász’s help, the statue was relocated from its original position toward the riverbank (Figure 1, lower–ref. 8), where visitors may sit beside the poet and enjoy the river view (Figure 4, right). While many celebrated the monument’s continued presence in the square as a victory, others, including Marton’s widow, were unhappy about its relocation.[63]

Interventions by ruling groups can transform, destabilize, and blur the temporal, commemorative, historical, and heritage values of monuments, as seen in the Imre Steindl Program. Over time, such material transformations may reshape collective memory, which is continuously “constructing, deconstructing, and reconstructing” itself.[64] The statues of Lajos Kossuth and his associates[65] (Figures 5–7), along with that of Count Gyula Andrássy (Figure 8, left and right), exemplify this process.

Figure 5. Original version of the monument to Lajos Kossuth and his associates at Kossuth Square, 1937.

Source: Image 118766 (resized), donated by Új Nemzedék napilap, available at https://fortepan.hu/en/photos/?id=118766. Accessed October 30, 2025.

Kossuth and the members of government of the Hungarian Revolution (1848–1849) is the third monument presented. The original marble version erected in 1927 (Figure 1, upper–ref. D; Figure 5) was created by János Horvay and Antal Fischer. In 1952, it was replaced by a metal version made by Zsigmond Kisfaludi Strobl, András Kocsis, and Lajos Ungvári (Figure 1, upper–ref. 4; Figure 6, left). The political and intellectual representatives of the revolution gave way to workers and soldiers who better represented the Stalinist regime of Mátyás Rákosi (1948–1956). In 2015, the Imre Steindl Program again replaced the image, installing a replica of the interwar version at the site (Figure 1, lower–ref. 4; Figure 7). To make way for the new replica of the 1927 version, the communist version of the Kossuth monument was moved out of Kossuth Square (Figure 1, lower–ref. I) and reassembled at Orczy Park in VIII District of Budapest within a different context in terms of assemblage and landscape (Figure 6, right).

Figure 6. Communist version of the monument to Lajos Kossuth at Kossuth Square in 2008 (left) and at Orczy Park in 2025 (right).

Source: Left – Image 159226 (resized), uploaded by István Csuhai, available at https://www.kozterkep.hu/2416/kossuth-emlekmu#vetito=159226.
Accessed October 30, 2025. Right – Personal archive.

Figure 7. Replica of the Lajos Kossuth monument at Kossuth Square, 2023.

Source: Personal archive.

The relocation in 2016 of a replica of the monument dedicated to Andrássy is the fourth object to be analyzed. The latest version, recreated by Polgár Botond, András Engler, and János Meszlényi (Figure 8, right),[66] was reinstalled where the original version was located until 1945 (Figure 1, lower–ref. 5) and later replaced by the statue dedicated to Attila József previously described.

The first version of the statue of Andrássy (Figure 8, left) was made by the sculptor György Zala in 1906 (Figure 1, upper–ref. C) and removed during the construction of the Kossuth Bridge in 1945.[67] An enduring urban legend claims that the communists melted down the statue of Andrássy in 1951 to cast the Stalin Monument[68] later destroyed in 1956.[69] A newer version flips the tale, alleging that bronze from Stalin’s monument was used for the current Andrássy replica, an idea echoed by officials and celebrated by Budapest’s mayor, István Tarlós, as a “deeply symbolic gesture” restoring justice to the monument’s history.^[70]

Though unverifiable, such narratives illustrate how oral history interprets the city’s symbolic transformations under successive political regimes, revealing how monuments become intertwined with popular imaginaries and shape long-term perceptions and remembrances of the past. They also confirm how the 20^th century is recalled through the lens of its authoritarian regimes and how collective memories are transmitted across generations.[71]

Figure 8. Statue of Count Gyula Andrássy: original version in 1932 and the replica reinstalled in 2016.

Source: Left – Image 161288 (resized), donated to Fortepan by Márk Iván, available at https://fortepan.hu/hu/photos/?id=161288. Accessed November 10, 2025. Right – Personal archive.

The fifth object mentioned is the 1956 Eternal Flame[72] (Figure 1, upper–ref. 2), created by Mária Lugossy. Commissioned by the 1956 Institute and the 1956 Memorial Committee, it was inaugurated in 1996 to commemorate the 40^th anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution and placed in front of the Parliament at the suggestion of Árpád Göncz, president of Hungary from 1990 to 2000. In 2013, the object was removed from the square with no information from the Imre Steindl Program about its fate. Parts of the monument were found at a business in the Hungary-Slovakia border town of Nyergesújfalu by Imre Mécs, a former revolutionary and later an Alliance of Free Democrats (Szabad Demokraták Szövetsége) party politician, and his wife, the dramaturg Fruzsina Magyar.[73] The couple also created the “Bring Back the Flame of Revolution” civil movement to return the monument to its original place in the square, though they did not succeed.

Figure 9. Eternal Flame of 1956, relocated in 2016 to Imre Nagy Square, in front of Gyorskocsi Street Prison.

Source: Personal archive

Despite opposition and the discontentment of many about the new location across the Danube River proposed by the government, the monument was erected in 2016 in the II District to commemorate the 60^th anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution.[74] The Eternal Flame (Figure 9) is located at Imre Nagy Square (previously Elek Bolgár Square), in front of the Gyorskocsi Street Prison where Nagy and his partners awaited trial in April 1957.[75] Once a place of official ceremonials and visited by many heads of state, the monument now sits next to a dog park and an unimportant decorative object, the Mackós-well, while its original place at Kossuth Square has never been reoccupied (Lajos Kossuth 1 lower–ref. E).[76]

Nagy was more reform-oriented than many of his party colleagues and emerged as a potential conciliatory figure during the Revolution in 1956.[77] When Soviet troops returned and retook control of Hungary in November 1956, János Kádár became the leader of the MSZMP (1956–1988) and many were imprisoned or executed, including Nagy in 1958. One of the most symbolic events during the transition to democracy was the reburial of Nagy, Miklós Gimes, Pál Maléter, József Szilágyi, and Géza Losonczy with all honors in 1989.[78]

Imre Nagy is remembered by many as a politician, a personage, and a martyr of 1956. Nonetheless, many remember him primarily as a communist, which is why a sixth monument is important to mention here: the statue of Imre Nagy created by the sculptor Tamás Varga in 1996 and commissioned by the Imre Nagy Memorial Foundation and other donors (Figure 1, upper–ref. 3), a life-size, bronze figure standing on a bridge above a pond in Martyrs’ Square (Vértanúk tér),[79] an area connected to Kossuth Square through a pedestrian extension introduced by the Program. Despite its peripheral location, the monument was evocative: The 1956 martyr gazing toward a free and sovereign Parliament symbolized the aspirations and sacrifices of many Hungarians, including Nagy himself. Its design invited interaction, allowing visitors to cross the bridge, take photographs, and leave flowers, candles, notes, plaques, and ribbons in tribute.

Figure 10. Statue of Imre Nagy placed at Mari Jászai Square

Source: Personal archive

The relocation of Nagy in 2018 was not free of controversy. This time, Katalin Jánosi, the granddaughter of Nagy, was one of the voices against the relocation, to which Tamás Wachsler commented:

We did not destroy any sculpture, we did not even take it to a sculpture park, and we discussed the fate of all works with the creator or the heir… The statue was erected a few hundred meters away. And Katalin Jánosi is not the heir to the rights related to the statue; and we agreed with the sculptor, we set up the work again under his artistic direction. I am convinced that [the sculpture] is in a better place now than it was before.^[80]

The excerpt suggests that the Program employs a specific hierarchy between the rights of monument creators and those of the individuals commemorated. It also implies that the Program’s team determines what is best for each monument, deciding relocation distances, preservation priorities, and acceptable interventions, often without consulting other stakeholders. By doing so, the Program has undermined the integrity of heritage and social memory.

Less than one kilometer from its original site at Martyrs’ Square, the new location at Jászai Mari Square (Figure 10) is considered offensive by many, because it is adjacent to the building once occupied by the violent State Protection Authority (Államvédelmi Hatóság; ÁVH) and later by the MSZMP (1956–1989).[81] Although many commuters pass through the area daily, field observations during my research revealed that few take notice of the 1956 martyr, who is no longer as prominent or visited as in the past. The space vacated by Nagy’s removal from Martyrs’ Square (Figure 1, lower–ref. G) was reoccupied in October 2019 by the seventh monument discussed here: the Memorial of the National Martyrs of 1918–1919[82] (Figure 11, middle and right). Sculptor Imre Elek created this replica (Figure 1, lower–ref. 3) of the original 1934 stone monument by Richárd Füredi and Jenő Kismarty-Lechner (Figure 11, left), dismantled in 1945 during the Soviet occupation (Figure 1, upper–ref. B).[83] The Program meets the objectives of PR61/2011 and two other aspects of the Fundamental Law in this memorial: the fight against communism (in this case, the Red Army) and the celebration of national consciousness. In fact, the monument is a nostalgic remembrance of Hungary before the Treaty of Trianon[84] (henceforth referred as “Trianon”) that personifies the millennial history and traditions of the Hungarian Empire with the allegorical figure of Hungária (Figure 11 right).[85]

Figure 11: Original Memorial to the National Martyrs in 1934 (left) and two sides of the current replica in 2019 (middle and right).

Source: Left – Image 39244 (resized), donated to Fortepan by Márton Kurutz, available at https://fortepan.hu/hu/lists/689927/photos/39244. Accessed February 3, 2024. Middle and right – Personal archive.

Other examples of relocations include the statues of Count István Tisza[86] and Károly Mihályi[87], but the seven cases described above suffice to illustrate how the Program has implemented PR61/2011. However, the Program’s strict commitment to the pre-1944 image can be questioned owing to the addition of unprecedented memorial facilities in Kossuth Square, either underground, like the memorial-exhibition In Memoriam 1956 and the stone gallery Kőtár–Lapidárium,[88] or at ground level, like the 1956 Water Mirror Memorial[89] in front of a 33-meter-high flagpole supporting a 28-square-meter national flag.

Considering the materiality of the objects incorporated in the public space of the square, the Memorial of National Unity[90] (Figure 1, lower–ref. 9) created by Balázs Zimay and Sándor Mohácsi is the largest new monument, and it deserves a more detailed analysis.[91] Having moved the monuments related to the period of Soviet occupation out of the square, the Program unveiled this memorial in 2020 to commemorate the centennial of Trianon. This tribute to the dismemberment of Greater Hungary is not part of the pre-1944 image but does strengthen nationalism and reinforce the imaginaries of collective traumas, like Trianon and the German and Soviet invasions, as promoted by the current political mainstream.

Figure 12: Monument of National Unity: street view showing the symbolic representation of the seven regions (left) and the entrance to the ramp (right).

Source: Personal archive

This monument is formed by a 100-meter-long stone ramp that connects Kossuth Square to an underground dead-end corridor close to Honvéd Street in a new extension of the pedestrian area through Alkotmány Avenue (Figure 12, right).[92] In the deepest part of the corridor stand seven massive, cracked pillars in the darkness whose view from the street (Figure 12, left) represents the map of the mutilated Hungarian Empire after Trianon (Figure 13, lower).

Figure 13: Monument of National Unity: brick wall of the “promenade of memory” and the map of the partition of the Hungarian Empire according to Trianon.

Source: Upper – Personal archive. Lower – Hadtörténeti Intézet és Múzeum, A magyar birodalom szétdarabolása a trianoni békeszerződés szerint [The partition of the Hungarian Empire according to the Treaty of Trianon], Hadtörténeti Intézet és Múzeum, 1938, 1 : 5 500 000, Hungaricana (HTI Térképtár), https://maps.hungaricana.hu/hu/HTITerkeptar/33399/. Accessed November 10, 2025.

Besides the map, other geographical references can be found in the monument. The ancient names of 12,485 settlements of Greater Hungary[93] are carved into the brick walls of the dark corridor, also known as the “promenade of memory” (Figure 13, upper). The different sizes of tiles represent the populations of each settlement in 1913, including nonethnic Hungarians. Many of these places ceased to be part of the Hungarian state in 1920,[94] one example being the Slovak capital, Bratislava, whose Hungarian name, Pozsony, is engraved on the wall.

Figure 14: Monument of National Unity: cracked pillars united by the eternal flame at the deepest, subterranean point of the ramp.

Source: Personal archive

Like the 1956 monument removed from the square, another flame lit now among broken pillars (Figure 14, left and right) to symbolize the spiritual unity of ethnic and cultural Hungarians. The pillars and flame are physically and symbolically linked to the center of political power and the legislature through a corridor connecting the memorial to the Parliament (Figure 12, left). The descending dark ramp evokes a passage in a tomb, while the monument’s aesthetics are reminiscent of the U.S. Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., where the names of the dead are engraved. Nonetheless, the Trianon Monument represents a nation that survived beyond and within its historical borders. If references to death were intended to dramatize the visitor’s experience, they do so at the expense of the actual victims.[95] Moreover, the monument overlooks how 19^th-century “Hungarization” policies distorted the demographics in 1913 (the last reference on the population of the empire before its collapse) and how migration and displacement between 1880 and 1924 further reshaped the population it claims to represent.[96]

During the interwar period, national history and territory were embedded in the irredentist spacetime created by Horthy-era memory politics.[97] Trianon was then represented, to inflame Hungarian nationalism, through anthropomorphic figures (notably Hungária), geographical imagery (e.g., maps, the Carpathian Basin, soil), violent symbols (blood, nails), and religious motifs.[98] The contemporary monument, although employing abstract forms rather than interwar images of suffering, is a modern iteration of this framework, evoking territorial and geographical consciousness for symbolic, irredentist purposes. Nóra Veszprémi’s comparative analysis of Horthy’s Irredentist Sculpture Group (1921–1945) at Liberty Square identifies additional symbolic continuities: the expression of Greater Hungary through spirituality, prioritizing territory over human experience, and the transformation of urban space.[99] The contemporary monument, while disrupting, as a new construction, the square’s pre-1944 configuration, revives the ideological narratives and memory strategies of the Horthy regime and thereby advances the nationalist aims of the Imre Steindl Program.

Returning to the text of the Fundamental Law, ethnic Hungarians and their descendants belong together, even when they lived outside of the country’s borders. Article D of the Fundamental Law says that “there is one single Hungarian Nation that belongs together, [and] Hungary shall bear responsibility for the fate of Hungarians living beyond its borders…,”[100] another reference to the cultural and political nation and creating a dialogue between the normative system and the Memorial of National Unity. Meanwhile, other parts of the Fundamental Law also extend to nonresident rights of residents such as social security or voting.[101] It is the job of the Hungarian nation, as stated in the Preamble, “to preserve our [Hungarian] nation’s intellectual and spiritual unity, torn apart in the storms [such as World Wars, Trianon, German and Soviet Occupation, Communism] of the last century.”[102]

As outlined in the Preamble and the Fundamental Law, Hungarian national identity is framed through a Christian lens, embodied by King Saint Stephen, the Holy Crown, and millennial constitutional traditions.[103] The monuments examined here were designed to commemorate the nation’s origins but also to imbue them with sacredness, inscribing Christian symbolism into the square. The flame of the Hungarian spirit in the National Unity Memorial, as well as two inscribed texts, reveals how the Program’s interpretation of the past intertwines religion and national identity.

The first religious reference is found on the pavement at the entrance of the ramp, which says: “Memorial of National Togetherness/Erected by the Government of Hungary/in honor of Saint Stephen’s Hungary,/which for a thousand years has provided home and homeland/to the Hungarian nation/and to the peoples living together with it.”[104] The second reference is a quote from the Old Testament, engraved on the back wall behind the pillars—Isaiah makes a prophecy of a king that will reign in righteousness: “And the work of truth shall be peace;/and the fruit of truth is calmness/and security forever.”[105] Despite the memorial being a main tourist attraction, the texts are only in Hungarian, clearly implying that this monument, like the others in Kossuth Square, is made by Hungarians for Hungarians.

In this section, eight Program interventions and their impact on the material presence, authenticity, contemporaneity, and individual and collective coexistence of the affected objects in Kossuth Square have been briefly examined. The new commemorative landscapes, shaped through decisions about which historical experiences to commemorate (or erase) from this public space and its symbolic apparatuses since 2011, have reconfigured related forms of subjectivity. Meanwhile, the monuments’ function as a historical artifact is now questionable due to the use of replicas.

Today, the effect of the Program’s decisions on the way that individuals make sense of Hungary’s historical experience, now bounded by the years 1944 and 1990 and idealized imaginaries of the past, is delayed thanks to the presence of witnesses to the actual history of Kossuth Square, who can pass on their own (competing) versions to other generations; however, when these witnesses are no longer around, the narrative created by the monuments of the new Kossuth Square may not be so disputed in the public sphere.

Conclusion

This research has examined how decisions regarding the renovation of Kossuth Square were made to create the appearance of democratic procedure while remaining largely detached from the central issues of memory and history. The post-2011 transformation, like the new Fundamental Law, rested on an imagined “revolution of the voting booth” and on a demand for revolution that never existed. Since Kossuth Square’s inception, Hungarian political regimes have used it to assert power and inaugurate new political eras after historical ruptures. Yet there was no true historical rupture or public demand to justify intervening in this memorial landscape, already shaped by the transition of the 1990s.

Rather than reinforcing historical truth, the Fundamental Law’s claim over the nation’s past exposes the instrumentalization of memory, where legal norms and electoral mandates are used to legitimize hegemonic power. The Program that grew out of it has turned a space once meant for collective remembrance—which emerged as a result of a complex historicity—into a stage for an exclusionary nationalist narrative imposed by an illiberal supermajority in the Parliament. This is reflected in the absences of politically inconvenient memories that now mark the square: ilences reveal as much as the monuments themselves. The past ought to, instead, be approached as a collective and pluralist exercise, grounded in critical inquiry, rather than as a subject of normative or technocratic authority.

The process was not devoid of resistance. Civil society actors contested several of the interventions examined in this study, but their victories were modest. The Attila József monument stands out as one of the few cases where the Program retreated, allowing the statue to remain in the square. The pre-1944 standard proved flexible when outcomes aligned with the regime’s governmentality and its mode of governing through the production of norms, symbols, and spatial narratives. Accordingly, new monuments such as National Unity were sanctioned precisely because they embody the ethnic and cultural values promoted by the state. In this context, the resolution of disputes between the state and civil society was not merely insufficient but structurally unjust, reflecting the profound asymmetry of voices that defined the Orbán political order.

This strict adherence to the normative framework can be challenged. The Program’s treatment of the Eternal Flame, the Symbolic Tomb, and the Statue of Imre Nagy fails to meet the PR61/2011 requirement to safeguard the memory of the 1956 victims, given that all were removed from the square. Moreover, by focusing exclusively on restoring the square’s pre-1944 appearance, monuments erected after 1990, a period with a sovereign and democratic country, were removed. In this regard, the renovation effort ultimately contradicts its legal foundations on at least two levels.

In its implementation, the Program addressed alterations to the square’s urban configuration and landscape within the same process as decisions concerning heritage. These domains are qualitatively distinct and require specific expertise, yet PR61/2011 and the Program ignored that; instead, it was pushed by an ideologically homogeneous group that approved and managed the changes through self-defined procedures. As a result, the new square is more a spatial expression of a political supermajority’s worldview than a reflection of a public, inclusive dialogue. This case underscores the inadequacy of uniform approaches in contexts where historical complexity, spatial specificity, and plurality of meanings are essential.

The current global debate on monuments centers on a critical reassessment of the commemorated subjects, especially individuals whose actions, values, or legacies are now seen as incompatible with contemporary notions of justice, equality, and human dignity. These movements generally call for a more equitable approach to monumentalization, one that acknowledges victims through reparation, recognition, and remembrance, and often focus on specific historical figures, acts, or events across continents, such as tributes to Confederate leaders, slave traders and colonizers, or perpetrators of dictatorships. By contrast, the monuments at Kossuth Square were not contested by civil society but by the state. Except for minor vandalism at the Mihály Károlyi monument,^[106] there is no record of significant public demonstrations before 2011 opposing the works affected by the Program. The Kossuth Square monuments were not individually targeted but collectively reframed as representations of an entire historical period, reshaped through a regime of governmentality that governs memory by regulating space, symbols, and time. While global debates typically question what is being remembered, the criterion for removal at Kossuth Square was the date the monuments were created.

By framing certain periods of history as external to Hungarian national identity, the government makes political decisions in a domain where consensus is often difficult to achieve. First, the past cannot be represented as a single, definitive, or final version since multiple interpretations of historical experience coexist in the present. Second, the will of a parliamentary supermajority cannot be equated with the will of society as a whole, particularly in subjective domains such as social memory. For this reason, the Kossuth Square case underscores the need to contextualize acts of monument displacement within broader political and ideological frameworks that motivate them. Accordingly, this study has focused on scrutinizing the narratives of power, identity, and legitimacy that determine which memories are preserved, transformed, or erased.

Acknowledgement

This research was funded in whole or in part by the Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia, I.P. (FCT; https://ror.org/00snfqn58) under Grant 2023.00349.BD (https://doi.org/10.54499/2023.00349.BD).

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[1] All references to PR61/2011 are based on the author’s translation of the Hungarian version of A budapesti Kossuth Lajos tér rekonstrukciójáról [Parliamentary Resolution on the Reconstruction of Kossuth Lajos Square], 61/2011. (VII. 13.) OGY, Magyar Közlöny (2011), https://njt.hu/jogszabaly/2011-61-30-41.

[2] See §2(e) of A budapesti Kossuth Lajos tér rekonstrukciójáról.

[3] Néprajz Múzeum [Museum of Ethnography], “Museum History,” Museum of Ethnography, Hungary, accessed December 2, 2025, http://www.neprajz.hu/en/muzeumrol/a-muzeum-tortenete.html.

[4] All references to the 2011 Hungarian Constitution and its preamble are based on Fundamental Law of Hungary: English Translation of the Consolidated Version, Incorporating the First through Ninth Amendments, as in Force on 23 Dec. 2020, Hungarian Ministry of Justice (2021), https://www.parlament.hu/documents/125505/138409/Fundamental+law/73811993-c377-428d-9808-ee03d6fb8178.

[5] Hungarian Constitution, 3.

[6] See §1 of A budapesti Kossuth Lajos tér rekonstrukciójáról.

[7] András László Pap, “Illiberalism as Constitutional Identity – the Case of Hungary,” Hungarian Journal of Legal Studies 59, no. 04 (2018): 382, https://doi.org/10.1556/2052.2018.59.4.4.

[8] Michel Callon and Bruno Latour, “Unscrewing the Big Leviathan: How Actors Macro-Structure Reality and How Sociologists Help Them to Do So,” in Advances in Social Theory and Methodology: Toward an Integration of Micro- and Macro-Sociologies, by Karin Knorr Cetina and A.V. Cicourel (Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1981), http://www.bruno-latour.fr/sites/default/files/09-LEVIATHAN-GB.pdf.

^[9] European Parliament, “MEPs: Hungary Can No Longer Be Considered a Full Democracy,” press release, September 15, 2022, accessed May 7, 2026, https://www.europarl.europa.eu/news/en/press-room/20220909IPR40137/meps-hungary-can-no-longer-be-considered-a-full-democracy.

[10] Marlene Laruelle, “Illiberalism: A Conceptual Introduction,” East European Politics 38, no. 2 (2022): 303–27, https://doi.org/10.1080/21599165.2022.2037079.

[11] For an English version of the speech, see Viktor Orbán, “Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s Speech at the 25th Bálványos Summer Free University and Student Camp,” Prime Minister´s Official Page, Government of Hungary, July 30, 2014, https://2015-2019.kormany.hu/en/the-prime-minister/the-prime-minister-s-speeches/prime-minister-viktor-orban-s-speech-at-the-25th-balvanyos-summer-free-university-and-student-camp.

[12] Fleck Zoltán et al., “Vélemény Magyarország Alaptörvényérôl [Opinion on the Fundamental Law of Hungary],” Fundamentum 2. Magyarország Alaptörvénye I. (2011): 61, https://fundamentum.hu/sites/default/files/11-1-06.pdf; Pap, “Illiberalism as Constitutional Identity,” 390; András László Pap, “Who Are ‛We, the People’? Biases and Preferences in the Hungarian Fundamental Law,” in Challenges and Pitfalls in the Recent Hungarian Constitutional Development: Discussing the New Fundamental Law of Hungarian, ed. Zoltan Szente et al. (L’Harmattan, 2015), 55.

[13] One of the first debates concerning Orbán’s politics in the European Parliament resulted in Procedure 2011/2510(RSP), February 2011, concerning Hungary’s 2010 media law. See European Commission, “2011/2510(RSP) Full Procedure Resolution on Media Law in Hungary,” Institutional, Legislative Observatory, European Parliament, March 10, 2011, https://oeil.secure.europarl.europa.eu/oeil/en/procedure-file?reference=2011/2510(RSP).

[14] European Parliament, “MEPs: Hungary Can No Longer Be Considered a Full Democracy,” Press Room, European Parliament News, September 15, 2022, https://www.europarl.europa.eu/news/en/press-room/20220909IPR40137/meps-hungary-can-no-longer-be-considered-a-full-democracy.

[15] European Parliament. Legislative Observatory (OEIL): Search Portal. https://oeil.secure.europarl.europa.eu/oeil/en/search. Accessed May 8, 2026.

[16] A single complaint may pertain to multiple areas.

[17] A budapesti Kossuth Lajos tér rekonstrukciójáról.

[18] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 3.

[19] Balázs Fekete, “The National Avowal: More than a Conventional Preamble to a Constitution…,” in Challenges and Pitfalls in the Recent Hungarian Constitutional Development: Discussing the New Fundamental Law of Hungarian, ed. Zoltan Szente et al. (L’Harmattan, 2015).

[20] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 6.

[21] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 3.

[22] Canonized in 1083, King Saint Stephen was the first Christian ruler of Hungary and regarded as the founder of the Hungarian state and the organizer of its Christian church. See László Péter, “The Holy Crown of Hungary, Visible and Invisible,” The Slavonic and East European Review 81, no. 3 (2003): 431, JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4213744.

[23] A historical constitution is an uncodified constitutional framework based on customary law, cardinal acts, and conventions reflecting a nation’s organic development. In Hungary, the Fundamental Law revived the concept through Article R(3) to restore legal continuity with the pre-1949 era and promote a national constitutional identity. The concept nonetheless remains legally vague. See Ádám Rixer, “Hungary’s Fundamental Law and the Concept of the Historical Constitution,” Journal on European History of Law 4, no. 1 (2013): 116, https://historyoflaw.eu/english/JHL_01_2013.pdf.

[24] The Holy Crown Doctrine held that sovereignty resided in King Stephen’s Crown rather than the monarch and, beyond being a tangible object, the crown functioned as a symbolic institution and legal persona shaping Hungarian statehood. See Péter, “The Holy Crown of Hungary, Visible and Invisible.”

[25] “The Tidal Wave of Memory,” Project Syndicate, June 21, 2001, https://www.project-syndicate.org/commentary/the-tidal-wave-of-memory.

[26] Enzo Traverso, Il passato: istruzioni per l’uso. Storia, memoria, politica [Le passé, modes d’emploi: histoire, memóire, politique], 01 ed., trans. Gianfranco Morosato (Ombre Corte, 2006), 80.

[27] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 3.

[28] The preamble starts with “God bless the Hungarians!” (Isten, áldd meg a magyart!). See Fundamental Law of Hungary, 2.

[29] Captioned in the original. See Fundamental Law of Hungary, 2.

[30] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 2.

[31] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 2-3.

[32] For further discussion on how national identity is constructed through constitutional identity, see Fekete, “The National Avowal: More than a Conventional Preamble”; Pap, “Who Are ‛We, the People’? Biases and Preferences in the Hungarian Fundamental Law”; Pap, “Illiberalism as Constitutional Identity”; Gábor Schweitzer, “Fundamental Law – Cardinal Law – Historical Constitution: The Case of Hungary since 2011,” Journal on European History of Law 4, no. 1 (2013): 124–28, http://www.historyoflaw.eu/english/JHL_01_2013.pdf; Zoltán Szente, “The Doctrine of the Holy Crown in the Hungarian Historical Constitution,” Journal on European History of Law 4, no. 1 (2013): 109–15, http://www.historyoflaw.eu/english/JHL_01_2013.pdf.

[33] Rixer, “Hungary’s Fundamental Law,” 117-119.

[34] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 6.

[35] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 6.

[36] Schweitzer, “Fundamental Law – Cardinal Law – Historical Constitution,” 128.

[37] Péter Apor, “Nation Aloft: Commentaries to István Rév,” Finding the Right Language: For István Rév on the Occasion of His Seventh Birthday, 2021, 72.

[38] Tzvetan Todorov, Los abusos de la memoria [Les abus de la memoire], 6th ed., trans. Miguel Salazar (Paídos, 2020), 57–58.

[39] For further analysis of how Article U was used to reverse the legal settlements of the 1989 transition and to prioritize political accountability over established principles of legal certainty, see Gábor Halmai, “Rule of Law Backsliding and Memory Politics in Hungary,” European Constitutional Law Review 19 no. 4 (2023): 614-619, https://doi.org/10.1017/S1574019623000024X.

[40] Article U(10). Fundamental Law of Hungary, 8.

[41] A Steindl Imre Program egyes elemei megvalósításának előkészítését végző állami tulajdonú nonprofit gazdasági társaság alapításáról [Government Resolution on the establishment of a state-owned non-profit business association preparing the implementation of certain elements of the Steindl Imre Program], 1788/2016. (XII. 17.) Korm. határozat, Magyar Közlöny (2016), https://njt.hu/jogszabaly/2016-1788-30-22.

[42] Csilla Kiss, “From Liberalism to Conservatism: The Federation of Young Democrats in Post-Communist Hungary,” East European Politics and Societies 16, no. 3 (2002): 741, https://doi.org/10.1177/088832540201600305.

[43] Kiss, “From Liberalism to Conservatism,” 744.

[44] Author’s translation of the Hungarian version of the interview available at Tamás Wachsler, “Egyetlen egyszer láttam könnyeket megcsillanni Orbán Viktor szemében [I only saw tears in Viktor Orbán’s eyes once],” interview by Nagy József, September 16, 2019, 24.HU, https://24.hu/belfold/2019/09/16/wachsler-orban-rendszervaltas-fidesz-parlament/.

[45] Wachsler, “Egyetlen egyszer láttam…”

[46] Wachsler, “Egyetlen egyszer láttam…”

[47] See József Mélyi, “A kultusztáj kialakulása,” Tranzitblog, April 25, 2025, http://tranzitblog.hu/a-kultusztaj-kialakulasa/; Mélyi, “Szobrokkal szemben,” Élet és Irodalom, March 8, 2019, https://www.es.hu/cikk/2019-03-08/melyi-jozsef/szobrokkal-szemben.html; Mélyi, “Szimbolikus térolvasás,” Élet és Irodalom, April 26, 2019, https://www.es.hu/cikk/2019-04-26/melyi-jozsef/szimbolikus-terolvasas.html; Mélyi, “Épületekben, szobrokban is tetten érhető az Orbán-rendszer emlékezetpolitikai kudarca,” Magyar Narancs, January 13, 2023, https://magyarnarancs.hu/publicisztika/epuletekben-szobrokban-is-tetten-erheto-az-orban-rendszer-emlekezetpolitikai-kudarca-255469; and Mélyi, “Az emlékművek lehetséges jövője,” Mozgó Világ 47, nos. 7–8 (2021): 194–199, https://www.epa.hu/01300/01326/00203/pdf/EPA01326_mozgo_vilag_2021_07-08_194-199.pdf.

[48] For further discussion of the role of museums in shaping sacrificial narratives of Holocaust and communist victimhood, see Máté Zombory, “The Anti-Communist Moment: Competitive Victimhood in European Politics,” Revue d’études comparatives Est-Ouest 51, nos. 2–3 (2020): 21–54, https://doi.org/10.3917/receo1.512.0021; and Máté Zombory, “The Birth of the Memory of Communism: Memorial Museums in Europe,” Nationalities Papers 45, no. 6 (2017): 1028–46, https://doi.org/10.1080/00905992.2017.1339680.

[49] Mélyi, “A kultusztáj kialakulása.”

[50] András Gerő, Térerő–a Kossuth tér története [Space power–the history of Kossuth Square] (ÚMK, 2008), 10.

[51] Gerő, “Térerő–a Kossuth tér története,” 11–12.

[52] Visitors may view the square from nearby restaurants and cafés, but these are private establishments and beyond the scope of this study.

[53] The architect and artist Béla Hámori lists himself as a contributor to this work on his own webpage. This claim could not be confirmed through other sources during the fieldwork for this research, nor could it be entirely ruled out: Hámori Béla, “Köztéri Szobrok [Public Sculptures],” Hámori Béla Webgaléria, accessed November 5, 2025, https://hamori-bela.webnode.hu/szobrok/.

[54] This memorial commemorates the unidentified victims of the “Bloody Thursday” massacre during the 1956 Revolution, when peaceful protesters gathered in front of Parliament and were targeted by unidentified snipers, likely State Protection Authority (Államvédelmi Hatóság; ÁVH) or Soviet forces, killing hundreds of unarmed civilians.

[55] Júlia Székely, “The Transfiguration of the Hero: A Memory Politics of the Everyday in Berlin and Budapest” (Ph.D. in Sociology, Central European University, 2016), 116, http://www.etd.ceu.edu/2016/szekely_julia.htm.

[56] The association represents political convicts, including the revolutionaries of 1956. The medal depicts a prisoner bound in a noose, a form of punishment in which wrists were tied to ankles, symbolizing torture. See Magyar Politikai Foglyok Szövetsége, “Magyar Politikai Foglyok Szövetsége [Hungarian Political Prisoners Association],” accessed November 5, 2025, https://www.pofosz.hu/fooldal.

[57] Székely, “The Transfiguration of the Hero,” 117.

[58] Gerő, “Térerő–a Kossuth tér története,” 79–80.

[59] This memorial-exhibition commemorates the victims of “Bloody Thursday” and presents archival materials on the events of the 1956 Revolution.

[60] David Ban, “A Kossuth Téri Sortűz Áldozatainak Új Emlékhelye [A New Memorial for the Victims of the Kossuth Square Shooting],” Építészfórum, February 20, 2015, https://epiteszforum.hu/a-kossuth-teri-sortuz-aldozatainak-uj-emlekhelye.

[61] Attila József (1905–1937), one of the most celebrated and tragic literary figures in Hungary, was a proletarian poet who combined socialist ideals with deep existential reflection. Located on the steps leading down to the Danube, the statue portrays him seated in a contemplative pose, evoking his poem “By the Danube,” in which he reflects on the shared history of the region’s peoples.

[62] This equestrian statue honors Gyula Andrássy, prime minister of Hungary (1867–1871) and later foreign minister of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, who played a key role in the Compromise of 1867 that established the Dual Monarchy and facilitated Budapest’s subsequent period of rapid development.

[63] HVG, “A szobrász özvegye tiltakozik a József Attila-szobor áthelyezése ellen [Sculptor’s widow protests against relocation of Attila József statue],” Itthon Rovat, hvg.hu, April 13, 2012, https://hvg.hu/itthon/20120413_jozsef_attila_tiltakozas; Csaba Domonkos, “Negyven éve avatták fel József Attila szobrát a Kossuth téren [The statue of Attila József was inaugurated on Kossuth Square forty years ago],” PestBuda, December 29, 2020, https://pestbuda.hu/cikk/20201229_negyven_eve_avattak_fel_jozsef_attila_szobrat_a_kossuth_teren; Index, “A rakpartra kerülhet József Attila szobra [Statue of Attila József may be placed on the quay],” Index.hu, April 11, 2012, http://index.hu/belfold/2012/04/11/a_rakpartra_kerulhet_jozsef_attila_szobra/.

[64] Michael Pollak, “Memória, esquecimento, silêncio [Memory, forgetting, silence],” trans. Dora Rocha Flaksman, Estudos Históricos 2, no. 3 (1989): 12, https://periodicos.fgv.br/reh/article/view/2278/1417.

[65] This monument honors Lajos Kossuth, Governor-President during the 1848–1849 War of Independence and commemorates the first Hungarian parliamentary government. The present version depicts Kossuth at the center, surrounded by Pál Esterházy, Gábor Klauzál, József Eötvös, István Széchenyi, Lajos Batthyány, Bertalan Szemere, Ferenc Deák, and Lázár Mészáros, symbolizing the emergence of modern Hungarian democracy and the struggle for national sovereignty.

[66] Hirado, “A Kossuth Térre Fektették Az Egykori Miniszterelnököt [The Former Prime Minister Was Laid to Rest on Kossuth Square],” Hirado.Hu, May 5, 2015, https://hirado.hu/2015/05/05/a-kossuth-teren-fekszik-andrassy/.

[67] Hernádi Levente et al., “Kossuth Tér, Visszatér [Kossuth Square, Returns],” Index.Hu, March 14, 2014, http://index.hu/nagykep/2014/03/14/kossuth_ter/.

[68] Erected in 1951 to mark Stalin’s 70^th birthday and as a symbol of the Hungarian Working People’s Party’s power, the 25-meter Stalin Monument in Budapest was torn down by anti-Soviet demonstrators on October 23, 1956, during the Hungarian Revolution. Located in City Park, the statue was cut at the knees, leaving only the boots on the pedestal, a widely recognized symbol of the violent rejection of Stalinism.

[69] Országgyűlés, “110 év után újraavatják Andrássy Gyula szobrát [Gyula Andrássy statue to be re-inaugurated after 110 years],” Official, Országgyűlés [National Assembly], 2016, https://www.parlament.hu/-/110-ev-utan-ujraavatjak-andrassy-gyula-szobrat; MMA, “Felavatták Andrássy Gyula Lovas Szobrát a Kossuth Téren [Gyula Andrássy’s Equestrian Statue Unveiled on Kossuth Square],” Institutional, MMA – Magyar Művészeti Akadémia, September 13, 2016, https://www.mma.hu/muveszeti-hirek/-/event/10180/felavattak-andrassy-gyula-lovas-szobrat-a-kossuth-teren;jsessionid=EC27B2277646ED21D4FB9AC22F7CE66A.

[70] HVG, “Sztálinból is van egy darab a Kossuth tér új díszében–fotók [There’s also a piece of Stalin in the new decoration of Kossuth Square–photos],” hvg.hu, September 13, 2016, https://hvg.hu/itthon/20160913_kossuth_ter_andrassy_grof_szobor_tarlos_sztalin_szobor; MMA, “Felavatták Andrássy Gyula Lovas Szobrát a Kossuth Téren [Gyula Andrássy’s Equestrian Statue Unveiled on Kossuth Square].”

[71] Enzo Traverso, Left-Wing Melancholia: Marxism, History, and Memory, (Columbia University Press, 2017), 05, https://doi.org/10.7312/trav17942; Il passato, 87, 93, 102, 104.

[72] This monument commemorates those who took part in the 1956 uprising against Soviet rule. The flame symbolizes the enduring spirit of liberty and preserves the memory of those who fought for a democratic Hungary.

[73] Népszava, “Visszaállítanák a Forradalom Lángját [They would restore the Flame of the Revolution],” Népszava.hu, November 6, 2014,  https://nepszava.hu/1038628_visszaallitanak-a-forradalom-langjat; Tamás Fábián, “Mécs megtalálta az örökmécsest [Mécs found the eternal flame],” Index.hu, October 27, 2015,  http://index.hu/belfold/2015/10/27/mecs_megtalalta_az_orokmecsest/.

[74] MTI, “A II. kerületbe kerül a Forradalom lángja [The Flame of Revolution is Moving to District II],” PestBuda, October 3, 2016,  https://pestbuda.hu/cikk/20161003_a_ii_keruletbe_kerul_a_forradalom_langja.

[75] Nagy Imre Emlékház, “Imre Nagy Prime Minister,” Nagy Imre Emlékház, accessed November 5, 2025, https://nagyimreemlekhaz.hu/en/imre-nagy.html.

[76] Zoltán Haszan, “Egy kutyafuttató mellett áll a Kossuth térről kipaterolt Forradalom lángja [The Flame of Revolution, carried from Kossuth Square, stands next to a dog park],” 444.hu, October 19, 2016,  https://444.hu/2016/10/19/egy-kutyafuttato-mellett-all-a-kossuth-terrol-kipaterolt-forradalom-langja.

[77] Bob Dent, Budapest 1956. Locations of Drama (Európa Könivkiadó, 2006), 111–12.

[78] Reka Deim, “Entanglements of Art and Memory Activism in Hungary’s Illiberal Democracy,” Heritage, Memory and Conflict 2 (January 2022): 69, https://doi.org/10.3897/hmc.2.70927.

[79] According to analyses of photo archives, the pond was constructed in the 1970s, preceding the installation of the metal monument.

[80] Wachsler, “Egyetlen egyszer láttam…”

[81] Deim, “Entanglements of Art and Memory Activism in Hungary’s Illiberal Democracy,” 66; “Jászai Mari tér 1.,” Budapest100, accessed December 2, 2025, https://budapest100.hu/en/house/jaszai-mari-ter-1/.

[82] This monument commemorates the victims of the Red Terror during the Hungarian Soviet Republic of 1919, honoring those executed or persecuted by revolutionary councils, the local governing bodies of the communist regime.

[83] Péter Bódo, “Kőkoporsó az Országház előtt–89 éve leplezték le a Nemzeti vértanúk emlékművét [Stone coffin in front of the Parliament–the National Martyrs’ Monument was unveiled 89 years ago],” PestBuda, March 20, 2023,  https://pestbuda.hu/cikk/20230320_kokoporso_az_orszaghaz_elott_89_eve_lepleztek_le_a_nemzeti_vertanuk_emlekmuvet.

[84] The Treaty of Trianon (1920) formally ended World War I for Hungary, resulting in significant territorial and population losses to neighboring states because of its participation in the war.

[85] Katalin Sinkó, “The Offended Hungária,” in War of Memories: A Guide to Hungarian Memory Politics, ed. Dóra Hegyi et al. (Tranzit.hu, 2015), 15.

[86] Count István Tisza (1861–1918) was a conservative Hungarian politician and twice Prime Minister who played a central role in the Austro-Hungarian Empire before and during the First World War. A firm defender of the Dual Monarchy and opponent of suffrage reform, he represented the existing political order and was assassinated during the Aster Revolution.

[87] Count Mihály Károlyi (1875–1955) was also a Hungarian politician and the first president of the short-lived First Hungarian Republic (1918–1919). A leading figure in the Aster Revolution, he played a key role in the transition to an independent republic and is generally seen as a liberal reformer, though at times is portrayed as a communist in conservative narratives.

[88] Országgyűlési Múzeum, “Kőtár [Lapidarium],” Országgyűlés, Országgyűlési Múzeum, accessed November 6, 2025, https://www.parlament.hu/web/orszaggyulesi-muzeum/kotar.

[89] The shallow reflecting pool marks the site of the events of 25 October 1956. Its minimal design includes a small golden inscription with a biblical quote from Saint Paul and informative metal plaques set into the ground. Its understated form masks its commemorative purpose, and critics argue that it may act as a physical barrier, potentially restricting access to the Parliament during demonstrations.

[90] Commemorating the centenary of the Treaty of Trianon (1920), the monument recalls Hungarian settlements that were part of the former Kingdom of Hungary before the country lost two-thirds of its territory after World War I. It functions as a site of mourning and as a symbol of the cohesion of ethnic Hungarians across borders. This monument also functions as a physical barrier and obstructs access to the Parliament during demonstrations.

[91] This memorial is also known as Trianon, National Cohesion or National Solidarity Memorial. For more details about the project, see Építészfórum, “5 Milliárdért Épül Trianon-Emlékmű Az Alkotmány Utcába [Trianon Monument to Be Built on Alkotmány Street for 5 Billion],” Https://Www.Epiteszforum.Hu, April 11, 2019, https://epiteszforum.hu/5-milliardert-epul-trianon-emlekmu-az-alkotmany-utcaba.

[92] The site occupied by this new monument was formerly part of Alkotmány Avenue, which was dismembered, closed, and integrated into the square’s pedestrian area. Consequently, it became part of the scope of this research, which encompasses the entire pedestrian area of Kossuth Square.

[93] According to the memorial website “Az összetartozás emlékhelye–Főoldal [A memorial of togetherness–Home],” ÖEH, accessed November 8, 2025, https://www.oeh.hu/.

[94] For a critical analysis of the public debate surrounding the inauguration of the monument and the historical information on which it was based, see Andor Valló (pseudonym), “‛Ezernyi szégyenfolt’: tényleg történelemhamisítást idéző Trianon-emlékművet lepleznek le augusztus 20-án [‛A thousand spots of shame’: Trianon monument, which truly evokes falsification of history, to be unveiled on August 20],” Válasz Online, August 14, 2020, https://www.valaszonline.hu/2020/08/14/trianon-emlekmu-alkotmany-utca-helynevek-kritika/; Antal Molnár et al., “Ez a történelmi Magyarország emlékműve, nem a magyarosításé–válaszolnak a Trianon-mementó szakértői [This is a monument to historical Hungary, not to Magyarization–experts on the Trianon memento respond],” Válasz Online, August 19, 2020, https://www.valaszonline.hu/2020/08/19/trianon-emlekmu-valasz/.

[95] Szabolcs László, “Memory Politics in an Illiberal Regime,” Public Seminar, August 20, 2020, https://publicseminar.org/essays/memory-politics-in-an-illiberal-regime/.

[96] Ágoston Berecz, “A Trianon-rámpa és a magyar Nagy-Magyarország aranykormítosza [The Trianon ramp and the golden helm of the Hungarian Greater Hungary],” Mérce, August 21, 2020,  https://merce.hu/2020/08/21/a-trianon-rampa-es-a-magyar-nagy-magyarorszag/.

[97] Nóra Veszprémi, Persistent Illusions: Visual Culture and Historical Memory in Interwar Hungary (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2025), 25, https://www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/book/9781501782312/persistent-illusions/.

[98] Sinkó, “The Offended Hungária,” 15–16.

[99] Veszprémi, “Persistent Illusions”, 100-101.

[100] In Hungary, the country’s territorial borders and the nation’s body, defined in ethnic terms, are distinct concepts. Sinkó, “The Offended Hungária,” 16.

[101] See Articles XIX, XXIII(1) and XXIII (7) of the Fundamental Law of Hungary, 3,12–13.

[102] Fundamental Law of Hungary, 2.

[103] Szente, “The Doctrine of the Holy Crown in the Hungarian Historical Constitution.”

[104] Translation by the author, adapting the Hungarian syntax from the version: “Az összetartozás emlékhelye / A magyar nemzetnek / és a vele együtt élő népeknek / ezer évig otthont és hazát adó / Szent István-i Magyarország / tiszteletére állíttatta / Magyarország kormánya.”

[105] Translation by the author, based on the Roman Catholic interpretation of the original: “És lesz az igazság műve békesség,/és az igazság gyümölcse nyugalom/és biztonság mindörökké.”

[106] András Gerő, “The Symbolic Square,” Blog, András Gerő’s Website, September 20, 2021, https://www.geroandras.hu/en/the-symbolic-square/.