Ghosts of ’56 Revolt Haunt Hungary : Budapest: Twelve men are on trial, survivors of a militia unit that fired on protesters.

A dozen old men are on trial for war crimes in the 1956 uprising against communism, but few people in this poor mining town think the case will exorcise the ghosts of the past.

The men sitting in the defendants’ dock in a Budapest courtroom are the sole survivors of a Communist militia unit that fired on protesters during the rebellion--as did Soviet soldiers. At least 46 unarmed men, women and children died in the melee.

Since the trial began last June, it has been met by public apathy, perhaps because many Hungarians view it as a show trial and not a real attempt to tackle the legacy of the 1956 revolt.

A Justice Ministry commission created in 1993 to investigate massacres during the uprising has so far documented 65 suspected instances. The Salgotarjan case is the only one that has been brought to trial.

The court still must decide whether war crimes charges can be applied to the defendants. But even if there are convictions, most people say the real criminals--Hungary’s Communist leaders and the Soviet bosses in the Kremlin--have gone free.

“They’ll die before this farce is over,” said 73-year-old Janos Szabo, who was among those in Salgotarjan’s public square on Dec. 8, 1956, when the trouble began.

Thousands had gathered in front of the police station and adjacent city hall to demand the release of two worker-council leaders who had been arrested. Worker councils throughout Hungary had organized in support of the revolt, a fact especially embarrassing to Communist Party leaders who said their power came from the working class.

During the demonstration, someone fired at the municipal building and a non-exploding training grenade was tossed at Soviet soldiers nearby.

Pandemonium erupted and within minutes the square was littered with bodies. Officially, 46 unarmed men, women and children were killed and dozens wounded. Other estimates say more than 100 died and well over 100 were wounded. Most people think the real casualty count may never be known.

According to evidence already submitted at the trial, most of the shell casings found at the scene were fired by Soviet soldiers. But only the surviving members of the local Communist militia, guarding the municipal building at the time, are on trial.

“We thought we were defending socialism,” Antal Petrik, 63, one of the defendants, said during a recent break in the proceedings.

“But I did not kill anyone,” he added quickly, after his former comrades warned him against speaking to the press.

One of the many legal problems in the case is that it is difficult to determine whether any of the 12 fired into the crowd and, if they did, whether they killed anyone. Hungarian law recognizes only individual responsibility, not collective guilt.

Another thorny issue is whether the incident falls under provisions of the Geneva Convention’s definition of crimes against humanity. There is no time limit for filing such charges, while Hungary’s 20-year deadline for bringing charges under its criminal code expired long ago.

The question is proving difficult because memories have faded and testimony has been contradictory. There has been no agreement on the reason for the demonstration, the size of the crowd, the numbers killed or the source of the first shot.

“Even the contemporary documents contain contradictory data,” Judge Janos Strausz lamented in presenting the indictment.

“Due to the extraordinary discrepancies in witnesses’ accounts, it is difficult to determine culpability,” added the chief prosecutor, Endre Bocz.

If Strausz rules the actions did not add up to crimes against humanity, the case will be dismissed. He has not indicated when he might rule.

A conviction could bring up to life in prison.

The defendants, all in their 60s, remain free. They must travel the 50 miles to Budapest for the hearings, usually held twice a week.

During the proceedings, they sit hunched over and rarely speak, glancing occasionally at each other, but mostly at the floor. When they testify, they often do not remember details.

“These aren’t the real culprits,” said Andor Jecsmenik, 68, who was a workers-council leader in Salgotarjan in 1956. “They were just cogs in the wheels. . . . No, not even cogs, just dirt in the cogs.”