The following tract is taken from a 2003 pamphlet about the Irish rejection of the Nice Treaty by former MEP and Hungarian parliamentarian Gyöngyösi Márton and is syndicated with permission of the author.
In light of the outcome and results of the referendum, the question of whether EU membership was beneficial or harmful for our homeland is no longer timely. What is far more urgent is to understand how our nation—both within and beyond its borders—will position itself in relation to the EU. Unfortunately, the campaign leading up to the referendum failed to address this fundamental question. It is regrettable that, in the weeks preceding the vote, the debates, which could have genuinely engaged the various layers of Hungarian society and economy, remained shallow.
That is why a meaningful evaluation of the referendum requires not only examining its technical aspects but also analyzing its deeper national implications. Among our nation’s leadership—those whose speeches in international organizations and at home are filled with ambiguity and empty phrases—the discussion of the negative aspects of accession was often avoided. Yet, the modest contribution of the national press could not fully reveal the pros and cons either.
Given the nature of Hungarian political life, it was impossible to provide complete and honest information about the implications of joining the EU. Economic, social, and political actors avoided initiating genuine debate, preferring to sidestep confrontation. Whatever government we have in the future, our country will only gain an advantage in Brussels if our negotiators and delegates are aware of and understand how Hungary voted on EU matters.
The timing of the referendum itself also carried national importance. By then, the country’s destiny within the EU framework had been largely determined. The vote did not, therefore, serve to change our future direction but to confirm it. Indeed, the overwhelming “yes” vote may have been less an endorsement of the EU and more a reflection of the desire not to be left behind by our neighbors, whose EU-focused enthusiasm was already strong.
Of course, that does not mean the public was properly informed about the deeper meaning of accession—many politicians and opinion-makers deliberately obscured the issue with false optimism or blind enthusiasm.
Now that our accession is no longer in question and the civic government’s efforts have concluded, it is worth asking: how should we relate to the European Union from here on? And perhaps more importantly, how can we avoid the pitfalls that have beset countries like Portugal and Greece, which, despite joining long ago, still struggle with economic underdevelopment?
Take for example public discourse: if EU membership does not truly improve living standards or competitiveness, if it only integrates us into a vast continental bureaucracy, then we must ask whether we have joined a flourishing civilization or merely an administrative empire.
Social Observer
Accession may not fulfill the hopes attached to it. It may well be that, even after entering the EU, Hungary’s true path to renewal lies elsewhere—specifically, in whether the political and ideological divide between right and left can be transcended in questions of national destiny. Successful nations shape their own futures with strength, firmness, unity of will, unbroken faith, and tireless work, never losing sight of their national interests for even a moment.
There is such a thing as a national instinct—an unteachable, inborn sense that must be reawakened. If that instinct fades, as it did in many of the disoriented European societies of the twentieth century, then a nation must relearn its sense of continuity, its mission, and its will to endure. Without that, there can be no Hungarian future.
Of all the countries of Europe, perhaps Ireland is the one that most closely resembles Hungary in its economic and social structure, and in its historical fate. That is why Ireland’s success is so exemplary for us. Between the two nations—lying at opposite corners of Europe—one can find far more than superficial similarities. Hungary can see in Ireland’s example a reminder that the secret of success lies in cohesion and shared national effort. Cohesion is the essence of strength.
Ireland’s path to independence holds valuable lessons for Hungary, which is now once again forming its identity under new historical conditions. Ireland’s emergence as a free nation began more than eighty years ago, when the two opposing forces—national independence and colonial submission—clashed decisively.
In 1904, Arthur Griffith published The United Irishman, followed by The Resurrection of Hungary, in which he proposed that Ireland follow the model of Hungary’s dualist compromise with Austria. Griffith argued that Ireland could achieve self-government through passive resistance—refusing to cooperate with British administration while establishing parallel Irish institutions. This movement soon divided into two currents.
One branch, led by Griffith and Michael Collins, accepted political reality and sought to create an independent Free State within the British Commonwealth, while keeping Northern Ireland under London’s control. The other, led by Éamon de Valera, rejected the treaty and aimed to establish a fully independent Irish republic.
De Valera’s party, Fianna Fáil, pursued independence by constitutional means and gradually removed Ireland from the Commonwealth. Griffith’s and de Valera’s determination and unity of purpose allowed Ireland, through decades of effort, to reach genuine sovereignty. Despite the civil war and political rivalries between Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael, both parties maintained the goal of national unity.
Hungary’s diplomacy, by contrast, has not yet managed to assert such consistent national will. While Ireland continually acted on behalf of its citizens abroad—particularly in Northern Ireland—Hungary has hesitated to advocate similarly for Hungarians beyond its borders.
Many in right-wing and patriotic circles in Hungary hope that EU membership will automatically solve these problems. But those who study Ireland’s example carefully should see that Brussels cannot provide unity or moral renewal from without.
The Irish proved that national dignity and self-respect are achieved only through internal discipline, shared purpose, and a willingness to bear the burdens of history.
The world operates according to the principle “help yourself and God will help you,” because beyond God and one’s own strength, there is no one else to rely on. The Irish knew this well when, in 1973, they joined the European Community. Northern Ireland’s deep-rooted national and ethnic conflicts—so often seen as incurable—were gradually eased within the framework of European integration.
United in purpose, they never lost sight of their goal: to reunify their divided island, while remaining faithful to their national identity. They dared to say openly who they were and what they wanted, and they sought their own solutions. Before the EU, Ireland’s divisions—crowned Protestantism in the north and republican Catholicism in the south—seemed insurmountable. Yet within a few decades, the demographic and political balance between the two sides shifted.
After the first local elections, British dominance in Northern Ireland began to weaken. England was forced to confront the question of self-determination in Ulster, and Irish diplomacy succeeded in drawing attention to their cause. Even countries that were once distant, like Hungary, could look to Ireland’s path to see how a divided nation can act in unity.
Those who dismiss Hungary’s potential due to its size and weakness should remember Ireland in 1932, when de Valera’s republican government achieved significant success against a then-declining England. De Valera gradually expanded the limited autonomy granted earlier and boldly eliminated the remaining vestiges of the British monarchy. In 1937, under his leadership, Ireland adopted a new constitution, solidifying its independence.
His government took control of national finances, established the foundations of economic self-sufficiency, and paid off debts owed to the British Crown. Ireland’s position in the world was further strengthened after the Second World War, when the principle of self-determination gained global recognition.
The British press, which wielded immense influence over public opinion, could no longer suppress the Irish question. The republican movement’s radical political wing, Sinn Féin, and the Irish Republican Army (IRA), which sought complete reunification, became decisive actors. Ireland’s diplomacy, meanwhile, found strong allies among sympathetic Western states, particularly the United States, whose Irish diaspora lent moral and material support to the cause.
Thus, Ireland transformed from a colony into a sovereign, self-conscious nation—something Hungary’s diplomacy could learn from. While Ireland tenaciously defended its interests abroad, Hungary too often hesitated, as if still expecting validation from others rather than itself.
The systemic change and the decades since have not yet brought Hungary the renewal it needs. Our economic and social structures remain fragile; our national will uncertain. But Ireland’s example shows that it is possible to rise from poverty, division, and humiliation—if a nation believes in its own strength, unites its scattered energies, and stops waiting for salvation from abroad.
Even in our own time, the echoes of this lesson ring clear. When Prime Minister Gyula Horn addressed the nation on January 16 through Kossuth Radio, he seemed to hope for the kind of external approval that can never replace internal resolve.
In a broadcast discussing Hungary’s stance within the EU and NATO regarding the intervention in Iraq, the speaker referred to Hungary’s “alignment” with the position of those powers. Indeed, the vice president of the Socialist International—who in 1956 had enthusiastically supported military intervention—now assures the world’s strongest economic and military power of his “solidarity.” Yet this same power, only recently an ally of another sovereign state, suddenly turned against its former partner, the United States, in the name of a new ideological morality.
Peace, the so-called glory of democratic principles, had already been tarnished during the Yugoslav crisis, when certain socialist politicians, then in power, supported NATO’s bombing campaign against a fellow Slavic nation. In doing so, they violated both Christian ethics and the principles of national sovereignty.
By contrast, Ireland maintained its admirable military neutrality throughout. While Hungary’s foreign policy sought American favor and contributed to the invasion of Iraq alongside eight European countries, Ireland—despite its close ties with the United States—did not allow diplomacy to override national independence. Irish political science faculties continued to teach what they called rosztovban—the art of negotiation, or, more precisely, the art of saying “no” to the powerful.
One cannot overlook the importance of Ireland’s political consensus and its ability to unify public life around national priorities. That unity allowed Ireland to follow its own course, even when the great powers’ conflicts threatened to pull it apart.
Although Ireland’s position during World War II was one of neutrality, it did not imply moral indifference. While Roosevelt urged de Valera to join the Allied cause against Nazi aggression, and many Irish volunteers fought in the British army, de Valera nonetheless maintained that Irish soldiers could not shed their blood for an England that had long oppressed their homeland and still occupied the North.
Ireland’s neutrality was thus a conscious assertion of independence and moral dignity, a refusal to be subsumed into the quarrels of empires.
Arthur Griffith had already laid the intellectual groundwork for this stance decades earlier. His economic philosophy—deeply influenced by Hungarian reformers such as Count István Széchenyi—held that the foundation of national renewal lay in economic independence, social reform, and intelligent investment. Griffith argued that true modernisation meant not simply industrial growth, but the moral and intellectual uplift of the people.
De Valera’s government, which came to power in 1932, sought to realize this program in practice. Its policy combined social welfare with cultural renewal and national protectionism, and it mobilized Ireland’s energies with remarkable success. Even though the Free State did not entirely abandon socialist elements, de Valera’s administration followed a distinctly national path that balanced economic planning with spiritual independence.
Although socialist ideas never took deep root in Ireland’s economic policy, enterprises operating under state sponsorship or with public support achieved significant roles in the economy. The postwar years brought economic crises, severe unemployment, and a declining standard of living.
In response, during the 1950s, under the Fianna Fáil government, the finance minister’s famous Whitaker Report—titled Economic Development—was published. It addressed Ireland’s threefold dilemma: stagnation, emigration, and poverty. The report proposed attracting productive foreign investment to Ireland, not only to create jobs but also to stimulate growth and prosperity. The goal was to provide the capital and technology that the small island lacked domestically.
From these beginnings, Ireland began to rise gradually, introducing reforms that caught the attention of economists around the world. Its development model became a reference point for nations attempting similar reforms—whether in South America or East Asia. The liberal economic policies applied pragmatically to Ireland’s unique situation became, in many ways, the foundation of its success.
The roots of Ireland’s progress lie not in ideology, but in the synthesis of its geography, industriousness, cultural variety, and pragmatic leadership. Singapore’s success story is sometimes compared to Ireland’s in this regard, but Ireland’s development was more directly shaped by European realities and by its ability to align national capabilities with global trends.
However, the dominant ideology of economic globalization—its uncritical liberal creed—distorted the natural balance between national needs and global markets. It turned the world into a hierarchy of servitude, where smaller nations often became dependent on larger powers, and individuals became slaves to a system of consumption and financial control.
Globalization, while promising prosperity, has undermined solidarity and created moral confusion. A society without moral or spiritual anchors can never truly prosper. The liberal model, with its belief in unlimited competition and perpetual expansion, ignores the deeper human need for rootedness, identity, and stability.
After World War II, Ireland began a pragmatic and goal-oriented restructuring of its economy. Through collaboration with international institutions such as the IMF, the World Bank, and GATT, and later through joining the European Community, it pursued modernization while retaining a national framework.
Its aim was clear: to align economic and social structures with Europe’s development, without sacrificing independence. This pragmatic synthesis—of market openness and social protection—helped Ireland emerge from isolation and backwardness. The state encouraged private enterprise, but also ensured an equitable distribution of wealth through tax reform and investment in education.
During the 1950s and 1960s, Ireland’s governments proclaimed an economic program built on cooperation between private and state enterprise. This approach laid the groundwork for the extraordinary boom of the 1990s, when Ireland became known as the “Celtic Tiger.” Its industrial and export sectors expanded rapidly, supported by tax incentives and foreign investment, while education and innovation policies cultivated a skilled workforce.
By the late 1990s, Ireland had achieved growth rates rivaling the most advanced Western economies.
For Hungary, the lesson is unmistakable: progress cannot be achieved by servile imitation or ideological dogma, but by rational adaptation of successful models to one’s own national conditions. To emulate Ireland is not to copy it mechanically, but to learn from its spirit of self-reliance, pragmatism, and disciplined national purpose.
If Hungary is ever to rise from its current malaise, it must rediscover such strategies—rational, self-confident, and faithful to its own heritage—perhaps even aligning them, finally, with the economic principles promoted by the OECD.
We should not strive to conform to the expectations of international assessments or World Bank surveys, but to our own national standards. Following Ireland’s example, we must dare to measure our economy not by the GDP indicators demanded by the IMF, which give a distorted picture of a small, open economy, but by our real national performance.
In small countries like Hungary and Ireland—where foreign companies produce the vast majority of total output and repatriate most of their profits—the GDP exaggerates growth and hides domestic weakness. If we switched to measuring Gross National Product (GNP), as Ireland has done, our statistics would better reflect national wealth and living standards.
Ireland’s success depended not only on organizing its economy to serve social needs, but also on the fierce political, social, and media defense of those policies in the face of “Euroconform” pressure. In short: national unity.
Astonishingly, Ireland managed to defend its fiscal sovereignty from Brussels. In 1987, it established an offshore tax system approved by its finance minister, offering foreign investors a 10% corporate tax rate—an approach that drew the ire of the EU but attracted a wave of global companies to Irish soil. Despite repeated disputes with Brussels, Ireland held its ground for years, and even when forced to modify the system in 2005, its corporate tax rate remained among the lowest in Europe.
By contrast, Hungary—where foreign capital accounts for nearly 80% of exports—has been gradually forced to raise its tax burdens, surrendering one of its few competitive advantages. While Ireland kept its corporate tax rate at 10%, Hungary’s climbed above 28% by 1998, despite EU objections.
This principled defiance was key to Ireland’s economic renaissance. In Hungary, meanwhile, successive governments have stood idle as multinational firms withdrew, lamenting the loss while invoking “market competition” as an excuse for passivity.
Ireland understood that an economy can only truly succeed when it serves society and its people, not abstract indicators. This required ensuring that economic reforms went hand in hand with social balance.
The economic transformation was accompanied by a remarkable demographic renewal: Ireland’s population, which had fallen to 2.8 million in 1960, has since risen by over a third. The reversal of long-term depopulation was not only the result of prosperity, but of a national will to live, and a belief in the moral value of family and community.
While other Western countries drifted toward secular liberalism, Ireland—though facing immense pressure to conform—still preserved many of its traditional values. Even as signs of change appeared, it remained more conservative than the liberalized societies of Europe.
Ireland thus stands as a rare example of a nation that modernized without losing its soul. It achieved material success while remaining faithful to its cultural and moral identity.
We should never forget that the same spirit—the unity of purpose, the defense of national interests, the moral strength of conviction—that raised Ireland from poverty can also raise Hungary.
In the end, only nations that build upon truth, justice, and tradition can create lasting value. A hundred years ago, Arthur Griffith wrote that the resurrection of Ireland was possible only through faith in one’s own strength. That prophecy has been fulfilled—and we should follow Ireland’s example. It is worth it.
Gyöngyösi Márton
Dublin, 12 May 2003
Admiration from without…not from within.
Interestingly,written almost a quarter of a centuary ago with the majotity of reference to
Our Irish Ancestors and the foresight,vision
and moral come civic virtues they showed in serving the Irish People, Their Master.
This gloating reference could not be written today,nor include FF/FG/SF of today who share nothing with their ancestors or any moral fibre and backbone.
…and unlike their self determined independant ancestors,this Dàil Shower are waiting to be told and what to do,fools n serfs