This past month bank robbers have been on my mind. After the theme
popped up in several movies I have senn and books that I have been
reading, I quickly realized these outlaws come in many colors in
Hungary. However, just who spends the night in a jail cell is not
necessarily a logical conclusion of how the legal system works
here. It seems societal status matters, and judgments appear to
be decided on a case-by-case basis. It all started after a night
at the movies, watching Krisztina Déak’s recent film “A miskolci
boniésklájd.” A strange coincidence happened after I left the theater.
Déak’s film is the real-life adaptation of a tragic adventure that
happened in Miskolc. A young couple haphazardly meets, falls in
love, and just as haphazardly become bank-robbing fugitives. They
escape into the mountains and read in the papers they have been
labeled the Bonnie and Clyde of Miskolc. The pair, now infamous,
were forced to live incommunicado.
In fact, interest in the case of Miskolc’s Bonnie and Clyde was
rivaled only by other bank heists, or rather, cases of alleged
embezzling in Hungarian banks. These cases have happened big time
on at least two occasions since the systemic changes. In the film,
the pair’s downward spiral into criminality nears its finale as
a police officer is shot by “Clyde” in a car chase. In the end
justice prevails, the couple is caught … he ends up taking his
own life, while “Bonnie” still sits in the Kalocsa Prison’s women’s
ward. The strange thing I mentioned earlier happened after I left
the film and walked into a local bar. I was surprised to see another
“infamous” person sitting enjoying a beer. A man accused of swindling
a particular Hungarian bank of billions of forints in the late
1990s (the trial is still ongoing). Who is sitting in the prison,
and who is sitting in the bar? The irony of ironies is that a former
justice minister could help this man escape justice by defending
him. Perhaps he is innocent. Perhaps … but journalists tend to
be cynical.
Let’s get back to the ‘outlaw’ bank robber, a more ‘popular’ thief.
For instance, Attila Ambrus was dubbed the ‘Robin Hood of Eastern
Europe,’ and recently became the subject of a book by American
author Julian Rubenstein entitled “The Ballad of the Whiskey Robber.”
Rubenstein tells the story of Ambrus, a native of Transylvania,
who escaped to Hungary just before the fall of the Iron Curtain,
and became infamous for his ability to successfully rob banks.
His technique was unusual, with many of his victims noting how
polite the young man was – even while he robbed them blind.
Before he was put behind bars, it was almost as if the whole nation
was rooting for the guy. It was as if there was something noble
about getting away with the crimes. He had finesse, so to speak.
The latest news is that Rubenstein’s best-selling book might be
put onto the big screen … so his saga will continue, in Hollywood.
Anybody considering a profession change yet?
On the other side of the coin there are cases like that of a Hungarian
broker also alleged to have embezzled billions of forints. And
overseas corporate scandals have become regular news items after
book-cooking was discovered at companies such as Enron, WorldCom
and Parmalat.
So what is the difference between the outlaw bank robber and the
one who just funnels money into their pockets? I guess nothing
much. Perhaps justice is more leinent, but you're definitely less
loved.
Andrew
Princz
Editor
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