Gullivernek kuldom a kert cikket a New york Times-bol:

                                              December 12, 1997               
        AT HOME ABROAD / By ANTHONY LEWIS       
        'Now We Are Ashamed'
        Attila Hegyi, a 26-year-old Hungarian, arrived at Kennedy 
        Airport in New York on the afternoon of Sept. 6. He had a visitor's 
        visa, issued at the U.S. Embassy in Budapest, but he was not admitted.
        Instead he found himself badgered into signing documents he did not 
        understand, then sent back to Hungary and barred from the United
States 
        for five years -- without explanation. 
        What happened to Mr. Hegyi is a concrete example of what the 1996 
        Immigration Act blandly calls "expedited removal." The account that 
        follows is taken from statements sworn by Mr. Hegyi before the U.S. 
        Consul General in Budapest. 
        An I.N.S. officer questioned Mr. Hegyi at length about visits he made
in 
        1994-95 and 1996-97. 
        On the first of the earlier visits Mr. Hegyi overstayed his visa by 
        three months. He was nevertheless given a visa for the next visit, and
        an extension to that. The officer was skeptical about the extension
and 
        could not seem to find a record of it in his computer. 
        The first hour and a half or two of the interrogation was in English, 
        which Mr. Hegyi speaks badly and has trouble understanding. Then, 
        suddenly, the officer began speaking in Hungarian. After two more
hours 
        he said his name was Doczy. 
        Mr. Hegyi has an arthritic condition that causes severe pain. When he 
        asked if he could sit down, officer Doczy replied, "Don't screw around
        with me, because I'm working hard, too. O.K., you want to sit down,
you 
        can sit on your ass." He handcuffed Mr. Hegyi's ankle to a bench. When
        Mr. Hegyi said he was hungry, the officer gave him nothing to eat but 
        went off for dinner himself. 
        When officer Doczy returned, he asked Mr. Hegyi to sign a document
that 
        he said was a record of his questions and Mr. Hegyi's answers. Mr. 
        Hegyi's sworn statement says: 
        "I [told him] that although I spoke a little English, I had no idea
what 
        he had written. . . . I also told him I was tired. It was between 10
and 
        11 P.M., although as I had flown in from Hungary that day it felt much
        later to me. Doczy then threw his pencil down on his desk and said,
'if 
        you don't sign this, we won't be able to decide your future. If you 
        sign, I'll go to my boss and we'll reach a speedy conclusion.' " 
        Mr. Hegyi signed the document -- and some others that officer Doczy
then 
        produced. "At about midnight," he says, "two guards came and took me
out 
        of the room. That is when Doczy said the papers I had signed barred me
        from entering the U.S. for five years. He did not tell me why this 
        decision had been reached." 
        For the rest of the night he was handcuffed to a backless bench. In 
        pain, he asked the guards to be put on one with a back. They refused.
At 
        6 A.M. he was given coffee and a roll, his first food in 18 hours. 
        He had brought some gifts with him for his intended hosts, Judy and 
        Tibor Horvath. They were taken from his luggage, he says, and never 
        returned. 
        What happened to Mr. Hegyi leaves aching questions. It may be that 
        officer Doczy thought his long stays in the last few years showed an 
        intention to live here. But why should someone with a duly issued
United 
        States visa be barred in such a summary way, with no real chance for
him 
        to appreciate what is going on? Is it I.N.S. policy to have officers 
        badger someone into signing documents that he does not fully
comprehend? 
        
        A lawsuit now before the courts contends that the new law's "expedited
        removal" process was designed for people who reach our borders with 
        fraudulent travel documents or none at all, not those with visas. In
any 
        event, someone thus excluded should surely be given a reason. 
        Beyond law and policy, there is a question of American values. That
was 
        the point seen by Tibor Horvath, who had expected Mr. Hegyi as a
guest. 
        "I was born in Hungary," Mr. Horvath said, "where I lived under Nazism
        as a small child and later Communism. I fought against the Communists
in 
        the 1956 revolution, and shortly after the Soviet tanks rolled in, 
        escaped. . . . I came to the U.S.A., worked hard and proudly became a 
        citizen. Until now my wife, who was born here, and I have been telling
        friends and relatives in Hungary what a great country this is, where 
        civil liberties are respected. Now we are ashamed."