“I will not perish here!”
Maja T.’s Budapest Court Statement
21 February 2025 (original post in German)
Translation by ABC-Dresden: 20 May 2025 (original post in English)
Note from Anarchist Black Cross Dresden: On 21 February 2025, the trial against Maja T. started at the Hungarian court in Budapest. They offered Maja a so-called “deal:” fourteen years of incarceration in exchange for a confession of guilt. Maja refused this offer. Instead they read out the following declaration.
Yes, I want to say something! I want to speak to you, who represent the Hungarian state and its citizens. To you, who are to judge me in this state’s name.
But also I want to speak to all the people who will listen to me. I am not standing here alone today, which fills my heart with deep gratitude. Also, I am not the only defendant in this case—there is a depressing continuity in repression. But what I am reading out today speaks only for me. Anything else seemed too presumptuous to me.
But one thing can be said for sure: I would not be standing here if I didn’t know about all the burning hearts full of solidarity.
So I am standing here in chains—I am on trial in a state for which I do not exist, as a non-binary person; for which I do not exist as Maja. I am on trial in a state that openly discriminates against and excludes people because of their sexuality or gender. I am being prosecuted by a European state because I am antifascist.
Despite all of this, I decided to speak.
I am standing here today after I was kidnapped and extradited, unlawfully, eight months ago. The state that made all this possible is the same state whose constitution promised to respect and protect my person and my dignity and whose executive organs disregarded the decision of the allegedly highest German court, knowing their behavior was illegal and aware of the threats awaiting me here. They brought me to a country whose claims about human rights and democratic principles fade even on paper, where people who dare to defend the self-determination of all, or dare to say “Never again!” get detained in their prisons.
I am very aware that I am standing here today because my birth held a promise from which I grew: the promise to be a human being. It had never grown alone, never fully free, privileged yet full of suffering, always searching for a way to ensure that a thing never happens again which no devil could ever accomplish—only humans were and are capable of doing it, and are once again creating totalitarian, oppressive states driven by hatred and resentment, trying to transcend their basic imperfection. Humans created the Shoah, and more cruelties than the sky has stars, despite somehow never losing belief in a peaceful tomorrow.
The prosecution accusing me detects hatred in my burning heart, while they intend to protect those who glorify the murderers and crimes of the Holocaust. So it’s crucial to point out that the prosecution alleges I physically attacked people who came to this city two years ago to take part in the so-called “Day of Honor.” On this day, there are demonstrations, hikes, and concerts that serve as international gatherings for rightwing extremists, legitimized and protected by state actors. The people gather there proudly and in full adoration for those whose paths they choose to follow: German and Hungarian fascists who try to deny their responsibility as murderers. They celebrate at concerts by deeply racist and antisemitic bands calling for hate and violence, so money flows into the coffers of rightwing terrorist networks like “Blood and Honor.”
And so today we gather here to prepare a court case in which I am already condemned, in which remand custody is already my punishment, since I am confronted with conditions that stand in contradiction even to what the Hungarian state itself has assured. Neither the “European prison rules” nor the “Nelson Mandela rules” of the United Nations are respected.
I live in ongoing solitary confinement, which means less then thirty minutes of contact with other people per day—for over two hundred days now. I am not allowed to study or work; I don’t get books nor the vitamin supplements that I need; they deny visits to the medical staff; I am denied healthy food and daylight. I got extradited to a prison that imposes humiliating and degrading security measures for which there is no justification or explanation.
The response to inquiries is silence, so I am forced to wear handcuffs during official visits to my cell and even during Skype calls. In the meantime, several dozen people have forced me to take off my clothes and stand completely naked in front of them. I wouldn’t dare change clothes in my cell, feeling shame in front of the camera that had been hanging there, illegally, for three months. Conditions persisting to this day are bed bugs, cockroaches, and the hourly cell checks with bright lights, including during the night, that deprive me of sleep—sleep in which I dream of finally holding my family in my arms, people at whose side I was not allowed to grieve and whom I’m only allowed to see behind plexiglass panes for two hours a month.
I am standing here today already carrying physical and mental damage inside me. My eyesight is fading and my body feels depleted, while solitude induces me to talk to myself; I’m banned from contact to other prisoners—justified by my queer identity. It’s only about punishing me, about breaking my vitality. Responsible for this is not only the Hungarian justice system, but also every court that has prolonged the pretrial detention. Recently they extended it to cover the next two and a half years, or until the end of court proceedings.
There are reasons why I am sitting here alone in the dock. The Hungarian justice system has lost all credibility—this is why other European courts deny cooperation. And this is right! Also this trial against me should have taken place in Germany, together with all the other defendants there, where I could have prepared and defended myself. I expect this finally to end, that I will be able to prepare for a court case on equal footing and not be deprived of every opportunity for self-development. I expect that I will no longer be punished with inhumane solitary confinement, which has already left long-term damage in my body. Not only the conditions of my detention itself represent a punishment that is to be condemned, but also the fact that I objectively pose no risk of escape or recidivism. I was never informed of the arrest warrant issued by the German or Hungarian authorities a month before my arrest, nor did I ever say that I wanted to evade any proceedings.
I want to emphasize that I’m expected to defend myself against supposed evidence that I have not been allowed to see. Up to now I have not been allowed to see all the prosecution’s files, and most of the documents I did receive were not translated. I was supposed to prepare by myself while my lawyers were turned away at the prison gate. On top of everything, these lawyers were not allowed to show me all the documents they got—and now you expect me to comment on an indictment that largely consists of hypotheticals? In which not a single word can be found describing the facts of my life and personality, not to mention any explanation for how I came to be accused of “participating in a criminal association?” Do you seriously expect me to take these allegations to heart, admit to them, and let myself be locked behind bars for the rest of my waning youth? For fourteen years, in the strictest prison, without the possibility of parole, just to spare them the embarrassment of having their fragile declarations collapse for lack of credibility?
Honored court, please be honest with me and all of us. You hope the isolation will break me and force a verdict without a trial.
I must state that I have been in custody now for fourteen months. On 11 December 2023, I got ripped away from my life, torn away from my family, deprived of the opportunity to study, to work, to participate in society and contribute something to it. Deprived of the basic need to develop myself and actualize my life as a human being. I was robbed of all this with the aim of tearing me down as a political person. But I still have the words that I write and speak, and I will not stop doing this as long as I exist and can think.
I also wrote an indictment. I wrote what I experienced during the last year. This helped me to endure the wounds, and I want to present part of the indictment today. I will leave out the nightmarish details, because today is about more than only me. It’s about the question of what kind of society we want to live in, and if we accept a state’s actions if they stand contrary to our moral values.
I neither call this country home, nor have I managed to learn its language. But I do know what it does to its citizens; I hear how this state treats the defenseless people at its mercy. Yes, I hear people screaming while they’re getting beaten up in their cells; I hear people whimpering and crying inside these walls; I hear anger and despair that loses all human melody over time. I see frightened glances and hear despising words, created by a system where people try to break each other through domination and punishment. I have seen prisons in both Germany and Hungary and I will state that these systems deprive people of their dignity whether they are doing the guarding or being guarded. I don’t dare judge the people I have met here, but what I know is that society is failing here.
In light of this, I won’t deny that moments pass when I sit at the desk in my cell and it seems impossible to hang onto the world’s beauty—my mind just tracks the suffering of fellow prisoners, interrupted by the throbbing of my own wounds. My mind flees from the feeling of impotence, lost in powerlessness, ripped away from my body, ripped away from yesterday or tomorrow. In these moments I can only see what seems to be unattainable for now, that which makes us human: the legacy of seeking common ground with each other without judgment for people’s nature, their bodies, or their abilities; of trying to create something valuable together without exploiting or oppressing; of being able to forgive each other for failures without remaining silent; and, finally, of admiring how faith in a peaceful tomorrow germinates from all this.
But the tears of pain dry, at least when I read your letters, when the newspaper tells me about the world and I learn that our utopias are reaching the people. People who are not bereft of self-evident and moral values, who are ready to defend and create them, who are unable to look away when others commit atrocities, who seek human imperfection—which neither paralyzes nor embitters, but instead lives in attempts at creativity and solidarity, seeking a way out of the violence driven by power, greed, and complacency. I admire every person who tries to grasp the complexity of our world and takes action where it seems humanly possible.
I want to walk this path together with those who call things into question without trading their morals and tenderness for deceptive promises of individual luck. I admire all those who try to understand humanity as one and do so without losing sight of the uniqueness of each person which has germinated from what they have experienced. This is not a perfect way of being—no, we fail; we can escape neither ourselves nor the world. But we are able to act; we can learn to trust each other and ourselves; we are able to grow beyond ourselves when we try to understand and make decisions from a place of humanity; we are able to help where there is a fire, where there is a lack of protection and people are fleeing; we can share and stay where the pain and suffering is greater, always knowing that we are not alone.
These days I can’t prevent my eyes from falling shut in fatigue and exhaustion. But even with my eyelids closed, I can’t escape the fact that wars, hunger, environmental destruction, and material inequality continue to create painful realities. There is still an imperial war raging in the middle of Europe, and it’s almost impossible to ignore the fact that fascism and its followers are once again gaining power, whether on a supposedly distant continent or in the neighbor’s garden. Totalitarian yearnings, authoritarian entanglements, exclusion, and isolation are experiencing a renaissance in our societies. I wonder what would happen if everyone saves only themselves? Is this how we escape collective powerlessness? Where will fear and despair drive us?
I myself have experienced how fear paralyzed my body and mind, how it made me lose hope and turn away from life. But then I saw a delicate plant sprouting in a place where no sunshine had fallen for months, knowing that winter would be over soon. And then, I had to admit to myself: no matter how much this place is hell on Earth, flowers can grow here, whether in the cracks of a wall or in my very being. It doesn’t take much to believe that courage and confidence create great things from small things, because from them springs resilience to wait for better days, in which we will see that our every action determines what branches out in our garden and blooms in the coming spring. Often I don’t know how—all I know is that daring is needed, and if we are honest we know it is possible when we meet strangers just like us.
Today I see some of your faces—I have read some of your dreams; I have been able to spend time with, feel solidarity from, admire and envy you as you stand up for a humanity that resists, overcomes rusty boundaries of cold iron in word and thought, and unfolds in queer, loving being, in feminist self-empowerment of boundless humanity, and all the liberating struggles for justice among all people.
Soon my words will come to an end for today. If necessary I will object, especially if people continue to put me in chains, lock me up, and try to break my dignity. Because yeah, today it is still about the question of a constitutional process, about the question of how it is permitted that I be subjected to these conditions of detention and that attempts are made to punish me in this humiliating and hurtful way.
However, it is not in my hands to change this. German authorities have extradited me and disregarded their highest court; Hungary is breaking its own assurances and European law, once again showing how it is moving away from supposedly “democratic values.” All that remains for me to do is to report on this, to object, and to appeal to everyone to do the same.
I know that experiencing all this is not my fate alone, and I hope my words also reach all those who stand up against rightwing extremism, fascism, patriarchy, exploitation of nature and people, against structural and racist violence and repression; who create alternatives and stand up for emancipation, queer existence, and a dignified life for all. I want them all to know that I am with them in thought and word. May they soon be free.
My last words belong to my family, friends, companions, lawyers, and all those people who strongly stand by our side. You show me: utopias and a better world are not so far away. You fill me with vitality, keep my beating heart safe, and help me to hold on to the knowledge, again and again, that I will not perish here. I know that gratitude makes me fight to give it back to you one day. I love you.
And to everyone else, I would like to express my sincere gratitude for taking the time to listen to my words!
Lightly edited by Antidote
