A political storm has erupted in Hungary after János Lázár, the minister responsible for construction and transport, said at a public event that Roma are “a reserve” workforce for jobs “Hungarians do not want to do,” and argued that they should be the ones cleaning toilets on InterCity trains—so there would be no need to bring in immigrants for such work. The comments triggered widespread condemnation, accusations of stigmatising an entire minority, and calls for apologies and political consequences.
The remarks were made in Balatonalmádi as Lázár answered questions about demographic decline and labour shortages. In his framing, if Hungary does not want to open itself to labour migration, it must “activate internal reserves.” He then explicitly linked that “reserve” to Roma, suggesting that when there are not enough people willing to clean train toilets, that is where workers should be found. Critics said the language was humiliating and reduced a whole community to a pool for the least respected jobs.
The backlash was immediate. Opposition politicians and Roma-affiliated figures demanded a clear repudiation of the minister’s words, while the controversy spread rapidly online after excerpts from the speech circulated on social media. Some commenters responded by pointing out that if there are problems with cleanliness and staffing on the railways, the minister should address them through management and investment rather than by singling out an ethnic minority. Roma representatives also urged the government to clarify its position and to treat Roma citizens as partners rather than as a stigmatised group.
Initially, Lázár pushed back against the criticism, suggesting his words were being distorted and politicised. Soon after, however, he offered an apology at a Fidesz rally in Kaposvár, saying he was sorry if he had hurt anyone and specifically apologising to Roma Hungarians who felt offended by his remarks. The apology drew attention partly because public walk-backs of controversial statements are not common in Hungary’s governing camp, which some observers interpreted as a sign that the scale of public anger and the political risk were taken seriously.
The episode is especially sensitive because it touches on several fault lines at once. For many, it reinforced long-standing stereotypes and patterns of discrimination against Roma by portraying them as a “reserve” for menial work. It also intersected with Hungary’s hard-line stance on migration, with critics arguing that the minister tried to strengthen an anti-immigration narrative by shifting the burden of labour-market and public-service problems onto a minority group. In the background there is also a political calculation: Roma communities live in electorally important areas, and any perception of disrespect or scapegoating can carry costs for parties that rely on their support.
Beyond day-to-day politics, the comments provoked painful historical associations among some Roma voices, who referenced the trauma of wartime persecution and deportations and warned against rhetoric that symbolically “assigns” Roma to a subordinate role in society. Whether the scandal will result in lasting political damage or will be contained through the minister’s apology remains unclear, but it has already intensified a broader debate in Hungary about the boundaries of anti-immigration messaging, the realities of low-paid public-service work, and the ease with which minorities can become targets of political frustration.
