"Hungary", America said, "the way you treat the refugees coming to your borders is not humane. They just barely escaped a terrible war and those horrid conditions crossing the Mediterranean in their tiny, overcrowded boats. You can't just detain them. Please tell your government—"

Hungary was fuming. "Oh come on, America, you hypocrite!", she shouted down her receiver. "Don't pretend you're so much better than me, what with your Tortilla Curtain and all! You don't want illegal Latino immigrants in your country and I don't want illegal Syrian immigrants crossing mine, so I built a fence, just like you, and I'm making illegal trespassing of my borders a crime, just like you! Don't you dare talk to me like I'm doing a horrible thing now!"

"But Hungary, you can't compare—"

"Like Hell I can! You're not policing the world, so stop telling me what I have to do! And that's that; I won't talk to you any longer." With this, she slammed down the receiver, still shaking with anger. Why did everyone make her responsible for the doings of her government? Why did all of them nag at her over and over again? As if it was her who made the decisions; as if it was her who could do anything about this.

With a soft click, Austria put down his teacup on her saucer. His face seemed expressionless and he didn't utter so much as a word, but still… Hungary could feel his gaze on her, and it felt like criticism.

"What?", she snapped. "It's true! And don't you dare talk to me like that newsreader of yours recently did to my ambassador!"

"You mean, about the borders I opened for your refugees in 1956?", Austria said calmly. "I agree; you cannot compare that. It is only natural to open your borders when you hold affection for the people crossing them."

Hungary went rigid. "What are you trying to insinuate by that?", she breathed. Her heart slammed in her chest. Even he lets me down, she thought. Even he doesn't see… doesn't want to see, perhaps...

"I am trying to insinuate", Austria said, "that it is easy to do the right thing when the will of your government, your people, and your own will are in accord."

Hungary knew she was supposed to feel relieved, but the strain she felt didn't vanish. "I have to represent the policy of my government", she said. "I won't be able to change it."

"I know", Austria said quietly and rose from her couch.

He's leaving, Hungary thought as she closed her eyes in exhaustion. Perhaps it was for the best; she didn't know for how long she could keep up her tough façade.

Instead, she felt his hand softly cup her cheek.

"You know they're not criticising you as a person when they disagree with your government, don't you?"

"Aren't they?", she whispered.

Austria carefully put an arm around her back and pulled her close.

"They aren't."

"Liar."

But at least his embrace felt solid enough.


Notes

The Tortilla Curtain is a nickname for the border fence between the USA and Mexico and refers to the 1995 novel of the same name by U.S. author T.C. Boyle. Hungary has recently built a fence on its border to Serbia as well, allegedly in order to "channel" border crossings of refugees to the official checkpoints, but it's an open secret that they want to discourage refugees from entering at all. (In case it didn't become clear: I think there shouldn't be any border fences anywhere.)

After Soviet military forces suppressed the Hungarian Uprising of 1956, about 200,000 Hungarians fled their country, most of them to Austria. Austria opened its borders for them.

On Wednesday, 2 September 2015, newsreader Armin Wolf interviewed the Hungarian ambassador in Vienna, János Perényi, in the Austrian news (ZiB2). Wolf criticised the Hungarian government rather harshly, comparing the way Hungary treats its Syrian refugees to the way Austria treated the Hungarian refugees of 1956. The interview was actually worthy of any satire show, even if it was perhaps a bit unfair towards the ambassador. Perényi doesn't make Hungarian politics, after all, but as an ambassador, he has the (in this case rather unpleasant) job of representing the Hungarian government and its opinions.


A/N: It will always remain a mystery to me how anyone can get so riled up about something so petty as a Hetalia ficlet. Also, the commenter "Attila's Nation" apparently missed that I deliberately chose Alfred to call Eliza, because his is a classical case of "look who's talking". They also seem to have missed that I never claimed Austria shouldn't have opened its borders in 1956; of course, Austria did the right thing then. As for the Syrian refugees, I've seen them as well (though not in Hungary). I've seen not just young men, but also women and children. They're grateful for any help they get and, of course, they have no intention whatsoever to "get weapons" and fight against Europeans. Yes, I'm not a Hungarian citizen, but I'm a citizen of the European Union, and I definitely won't "shut the hell up" about anything that's going on there. Ah, yes, and I won't comment on that rant about history and colonialism, because it doesn't have much to do with the story I've actually written.