Warsaw, 10th September,
On the 25th of June, I landed in Budapest to report on the banned Equality Parade. And at the same time, I became a smuggler.
Since 2021, Hungary has had a law prohibiting the sale of books with LGBTQIA+ themes. They can’t be sold within 200 metres of churches, schools and kindergartens, which in practice makes it impossible to sell them in cities. In addition, they must be wrapped in plastic and marked as 18+, like porn magazines used to be in kiosks.
This is one of the reasons why the book “Kraina baśni jest dla wszystkich” (translation of the Hungarian book “Meseország mindenkié”, “Fairyland is for everyone, in English”, ed.), published in Poland by Krytyka Polityczna, has been banned in Hungary. In the book, you will read, among other things, a story about a rabbit who was born with three ears and who uses his difference and uniqueness to save the forest. Or the story of Thumbelina, who, although tiny, has the extraordinary strength to face life.
So I decided to smuggle it in. I kept the book deep in my backpack, underneath my camera and cables, as if it were something shameful or dangerous. Every time I passed armed officers or saw police dogs sniffing around, I felt a little jolt of adrenaline as if they could somehow sense that I was carrying “forbidden” literature. Of course, the real risk was not that I would end up in prison, but that the book might be confiscated, destroyed, or never reach the people who needed it most.
The airport search dogs didn’t detect it and the book visited Budapest in my backpack. It was my subversive contraband for five days. Carrying it through the city felt both absurd and serious: a children’s fairytale turned into contraband.
Budapest was full of police patrols that week, the banned Equality Parade brought extra surveillance, and officers were stopping people at random. None of the policemen who eyed me suspiciously because I was a lone traveller with a camera bag had any idea that I was hiding an illegal children’s storybook in my backpack.
The book reached its destination: our friends at 444, one of the last independent editorial offices in Hungary and one of our partners in Sphera Network, whose future is uncertain. In a recent In Vivo (link at the end of the text, ed.), Gábor Kardos —the CEO of Magyar Jeti Zrt, the publishing company of 444.hu— wrote about the threats independent medias in the region are currently facing. I encourage you to support them because we must stand in solidarity with our European friends (you can sign our petition here and/or donate to 444 via the links at the end of the text, ed.).
Nevertheless, despite this restrictive atmosphere, the banned parade in Budapest attracted large crowds, which was a sign of European solidarity. Unfortunately, after returning to Poland, I came back to the reality of a country where although you can publish a book like “Kraina baśni jest dla wszystkich”, there is no marriage equality. The liberal government that defeated right-wing populists in 2023 is unable to reach an agreement on this issue.
Rainbow families in Poland are still invisible in the law, they have to stand up for themselves. When, I went with my camera to visit Miłka, who together with her partner Ola is raising two wonderful —and very loud— sons, she told me : “We always say directly: we are together. We have this family model and no other. And you either accept it or you don’t. But you have to deal with it because for us it’s okay, it’s our life and it’s none of your business.”
She’s right, but still, the situation in Poland is not good for queer people. According to research conducted by the University of Warsaw. 98% of LGBTQIA+ people in Poland experienced some form of micro-aggression between 2019-2020. 55% of participants responded that they sometimes have suicidal thoughts. Almost 70% of LGBTQIA people have experienced at least one form of violent behavior because of their sexual orientation or gender identity.
At Krytyka Polityczna, we know that the representation of minorities —such as Miłka and Ola’s family— is extremely important to change mentalities. It shows every child that their identity and their family can exist in stories, and that they are not alone or “wrong.” Representation helps LGBTQIA+ kids grow up with self-acceptance and hope, while also teaching all the other children —and let’s hope their parents— empathy and understanding of difference.
When love, family, and identity appear in many forms, it reduces prejudice, bullying, and fear. It also helps protect the mental health of young people who might otherwise feel isolated. That’s why for us at Krytyka Polityczna, it is essential to ensure diversity in the titles we publish. And when necessary to smuggle them into other countries.
✍️Sign our petition for press freedom in Europe
Donate to 444
Read Gábor Kardos’s story
