ucker Carlson raised eyebrows recently by broadcasting from Budapest. A guest of Prime Minister Viktor Orban, Carlson’s visit served to inject Hungarian politics into the American political consciousness—or at least to place it within the crosshairs of its punditry class. This, of course, could not be worse news for anyone interested in a sober analysis of Hungarian politics.
Mr. Orban has long engendered fierce controversy and criticism amongst colleagues in the United States and the European Union. Last week, he once again became an object of adulation and detraction for America’s cable news shows and Twitterati. Amid the bluster about a man who styles his policies as advancing “illiberal democracy,” it is easy to forget that the second part of this notorious phrase could come back to bite him.
Whatever alarm Viktor Orban provokes in Western Europe and the U.S., he is actually quite vulnerable as Hungary heads towards general elections in 2022. In a word, he can lose—and lose to a coalition that may prove politically unstable and unpredictable.
This is the real headline, and it could carry serious consequences that echo far beyond Hungary.
Viktor Orban Can Lose
Every July, Băile Tușnad, a leafy town in Transylvania, hosts Hungary’s equivalent to America’s Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC). The Prime Minister proclaims the party line there and it is his most celebrated annual address. Yet, organizers had to cancel this summer’s convention for the second time in a row. That opened the door to Mr. Carlson’s visit as something of an urgent substitute.
Putting his analysis of the merits of Mr. Orban and Fidesz aside, the recent behavior of Hungary’s ruling party highlights the pressure it is under. Rather than responding to domestic rivals, its leaders denounce global critics—portraying Fidesz’s true opponents as outside Hungary’s borders. Delays in the rollout of vaccines by Brussels, high-handed strings attached to EU spending, and external insistence that Hungary adhere to liberal human rights norms provide fodder for Fidesz’s campaign. Yet, beyond mobilizing the party faithful, these arguments must overcome grievances accrued during its 11 years in power.
Recent demonstrations underscore that, like all leaders, the prime minister faces the same law of public life chanted by Charles de Gaulle’s detractors in 1968: “dix ans, ça suffit!” Gathering before the parliament in June, thousands of students protested a long-planned campus in the capital for China’s Fudan University. A similar backlash erupted following the passage of the “Children Protection Act,” which outlawed discussion of homosexuality and transgender issues in schools and media directed at minors. Following threats of legal action from the European Union, the government retreated by calling for a referendum on this measure. Not long after, 30,000 people marched in the largest ever Budapest Pride parade.
Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, Fidesz has gambled on a relatively restrained economic policy in contrast to other governments that have spent vast sums. Its firm emphasis on the revival of large employers and the renewal promised by mass inoculation have left many homes anxious for more immediate relief. On the one hand, indicators suggest Hungary’s swift vaccination scheme gained it a three-month head start in Europe’s economic recovery. On the other hand, the government’s disciplined avoidance of extensive individual payments, like those doled out by its peers, has sparked impatience. Fidesz’s rhetoric, which emphasizes family life, risks the ire of parents coming to grips with moving goalposts for a return to normalcy.
Mr. Orban faces a real fight in next spring’s national elections. Fidesz was already in trouble before the pandemic, given its poor performance in 2019’s bellwether municipal contests. Now, it is neck and neck in polls with a newly united opposition.
Can a Victorious Opposition Govern?
Mr. Orban’s bitter foes undoubtedly welcome clues that his two-thirds majority is becoming deceptively fragile. Yet a new governing coalition could lead to paralysis rather than progress.
Fragmented amongst several parties, Hungary’s left remains haunted by a leaked 2006 speech by then Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány. In it, he admitted accomplishing “nothing.” "We lied in the morning,” he boasted, “we lied in the evening." Peppered with profanity, the recording provoked riots and police retaliation the likes of which had not been seen since Hungary’s transition to democracy. This legacy, coupled with ceaseless infighting and ideological dissent, makes it unlikely left-leaning parties could win decisively on their own.
Instead, these leaders see their path to power through an alliance with a former pariah party—one made up of the true arch-chauvinists among Hungary’s many nationalist outfits.
Jobbik, the country’s most extreme political faction, used to position itself as a harder edged version of Fidesz. Openly antisemitic, its leaders spoke of an imagined “replacement” of Hungarians through immigration. Through ups and downs, Jobbik has steadily gained electoral footholds. Before a series of splits, it won 19 percent of the vote in the last election. Now, this once-anathematized ally has agreed to form a joint party list with the left-leaning opposition, together nominating only one challenger in each constituency.
Still the furthest right party, Jobbik currently avoids overt racism to support its pretense of change. Electing a leader with Jewish heritage, Péter Jakab, its rank and file profess a “center right” orientation. They have commended Budapest’s green party mayor while quietly continuing to support Fidesz’s policies that are hostile to the LGBT community. Yet, this public jockeying cannot conceal the fact that Jobbik’s new guard remains sympathetic to bigoted tropes that defined the party previously.
While the allure of prospective cabinet positions may entice Jobbik and the left to mouth expedient talking points, their resolve will crumble once in power. They are likely to indulge in constant squabbling over shared prerogatives—given that few exist. Jobbik's anti-EU positions, for instance, are almost certain to clash with the left's fealty to Brussels.
It may not be long before a spurned Jobbik resorts to its signature brand of determined obstructionism and poisonous threats.
Implications for Europe and the U.S.
As President Joe Biden seeks to mend ties with Western European leaders, his administration has thus far avoided his predecessor’s attention to Central and Eastern Europe. He may want to start paying closer attention, and soon. Mr. Biden should also take care not to conclude that a win for the opposition would make his job much easier.
In remarks at February’s conference for the Three Seas Initiative, Secretary of State Antony Blinken publicly extolled the project’s virtues. Yet, its chief aim—regional economic integration in Central and Eastern Europe—could easily be set back if the government of one of its wealthiest, gas-exporting participants were to become preoccupied by internal divisions. Furthermore, political crosscurrents will likely make the new coalition unwilling or unable to collaborate with nearby powers that have found common cause with Fidesz, such as Poland.
As China and Russia push harder for inroads in Hungary’s neighborhood, criticism of Fidesz should not exonerate its competitors for their past. The left’s former standard bearer, Gyurcsány, had a close working relationship with President Vladimir Putin which resulted in deep ties to Russia. The same government aggressively cultivated Chinese investment. To undercut Fidesz’s hard-won reputation for economic competence, it is hard to imagine a new government avoiding replication of these policies in the absence of robust American engagement.
A Hungarian government deeply divided on foreign policy and at odds with itself over keeping faith with the EU may become even be less amenable to Western alternatives to Russian and Chinese influence in the region.
Sleeping ‘til Noon
Mark Twain once quipped “give a man a reputation as an early riser and he can sleep ’til noon.” Commentators, no matter their political stripes, should avoid falling for a similar misdirection in the case of Hungary’s leadership. Whether the intense focus on Mr. Orban’s personality is a deliberate political strategy or not—which, for someone as politically gifted as Mr. Orban, it would be hard to believe it isn’t—it has the effect of sucking up the oxygen in nearly any discussion involving him. Granting Mr. Orban a permissive air of permanence masks broader political trends.
Before jetting off to Hungary for his now-infamous visit, Tucker Carlson implored his audience that they “should know what is happening here right now.” The reality is that both enthusiasts and critics of Hungary’s government largely do not.
Viktor Orban can lose the next election. Hungary’s united opposition has a real chance of winning it. The real question is, can that coalition govern—and what will it mean for Budapest’s neighbors and allies?
These issues may lack the glitz of Carlson’s spotlight. Yet, they ultimately are of far greater importance to the lives of not just Hungarians but Europeans and Americans as well. It’s time to put down the remote and start paying attention.
a global affairs media network
The Real Story in Hungary Isn’t Orban
Photo via Adobe Stock.
August 26, 2021
Viktor Orban can lose the next election. Hungary’s united opposition has a real chance of winning it. The real question is, can that coalition govern—and what will it mean for Budapest’s neighbors and allies?
T
ucker Carlson raised eyebrows recently by broadcasting from Budapest. A guest of Prime Minister Viktor Orban, Carlson’s visit served to inject Hungarian politics into the American political consciousness—or at least to place it within the crosshairs of its punditry class. This, of course, could not be worse news for anyone interested in a sober analysis of Hungarian politics.
Mr. Orban has long engendered fierce controversy and criticism amongst colleagues in the United States and the European Union. Last week, he once again became an object of adulation and detraction for America’s cable news shows and Twitterati. Amid the bluster about a man who styles his policies as advancing “illiberal democracy,” it is easy to forget that the second part of this notorious phrase could come back to bite him.
Whatever alarm Viktor Orban provokes in Western Europe and the U.S., he is actually quite vulnerable as Hungary heads towards general elections in 2022. In a word, he can lose—and lose to a coalition that may prove politically unstable and unpredictable.
This is the real headline, and it could carry serious consequences that echo far beyond Hungary.
Viktor Orban Can Lose
Every July, Băile Tușnad, a leafy town in Transylvania, hosts Hungary’s equivalent to America’s Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC). The Prime Minister proclaims the party line there and it is his most celebrated annual address. Yet, organizers had to cancel this summer’s convention for the second time in a row. That opened the door to Mr. Carlson’s visit as something of an urgent substitute.
Putting his analysis of the merits of Mr. Orban and Fidesz aside, the recent behavior of Hungary’s ruling party highlights the pressure it is under. Rather than responding to domestic rivals, its leaders denounce global critics—portraying Fidesz’s true opponents as outside Hungary’s borders. Delays in the rollout of vaccines by Brussels, high-handed strings attached to EU spending, and external insistence that Hungary adhere to liberal human rights norms provide fodder for Fidesz’s campaign. Yet, beyond mobilizing the party faithful, these arguments must overcome grievances accrued during its 11 years in power.
Recent demonstrations underscore that, like all leaders, the prime minister faces the same law of public life chanted by Charles de Gaulle’s detractors in 1968: “dix ans, ça suffit!” Gathering before the parliament in June, thousands of students protested a long-planned campus in the capital for China’s Fudan University. A similar backlash erupted following the passage of the “Children Protection Act,” which outlawed discussion of homosexuality and transgender issues in schools and media directed at minors. Following threats of legal action from the European Union, the government retreated by calling for a referendum on this measure. Not long after, 30,000 people marched in the largest ever Budapest Pride parade.
Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, Fidesz has gambled on a relatively restrained economic policy in contrast to other governments that have spent vast sums. Its firm emphasis on the revival of large employers and the renewal promised by mass inoculation have left many homes anxious for more immediate relief. On the one hand, indicators suggest Hungary’s swift vaccination scheme gained it a three-month head start in Europe’s economic recovery. On the other hand, the government’s disciplined avoidance of extensive individual payments, like those doled out by its peers, has sparked impatience. Fidesz’s rhetoric, which emphasizes family life, risks the ire of parents coming to grips with moving goalposts for a return to normalcy.
Mr. Orban faces a real fight in next spring’s national elections. Fidesz was already in trouble before the pandemic, given its poor performance in 2019’s bellwether municipal contests. Now, it is neck and neck in polls with a newly united opposition.
Can a Victorious Opposition Govern?
Mr. Orban’s bitter foes undoubtedly welcome clues that his two-thirds majority is becoming deceptively fragile. Yet a new governing coalition could lead to paralysis rather than progress.
Fragmented amongst several parties, Hungary’s left remains haunted by a leaked 2006 speech by then Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány. In it, he admitted accomplishing “nothing.” "We lied in the morning,” he boasted, “we lied in the evening." Peppered with profanity, the recording provoked riots and police retaliation the likes of which had not been seen since Hungary’s transition to democracy. This legacy, coupled with ceaseless infighting and ideological dissent, makes it unlikely left-leaning parties could win decisively on their own.
Instead, these leaders see their path to power through an alliance with a former pariah party—one made up of the true arch-chauvinists among Hungary’s many nationalist outfits.
Jobbik, the country’s most extreme political faction, used to position itself as a harder edged version of Fidesz. Openly antisemitic, its leaders spoke of an imagined “replacement” of Hungarians through immigration. Through ups and downs, Jobbik has steadily gained electoral footholds. Before a series of splits, it won 19 percent of the vote in the last election. Now, this once-anathematized ally has agreed to form a joint party list with the left-leaning opposition, together nominating only one challenger in each constituency.
Still the furthest right party, Jobbik currently avoids overt racism to support its pretense of change. Electing a leader with Jewish heritage, Péter Jakab, its rank and file profess a “center right” orientation. They have commended Budapest’s green party mayor while quietly continuing to support Fidesz’s policies that are hostile to the LGBT community. Yet, this public jockeying cannot conceal the fact that Jobbik’s new guard remains sympathetic to bigoted tropes that defined the party previously.
While the allure of prospective cabinet positions may entice Jobbik and the left to mouth expedient talking points, their resolve will crumble once in power. They are likely to indulge in constant squabbling over shared prerogatives—given that few exist. Jobbik's anti-EU positions, for instance, are almost certain to clash with the left's fealty to Brussels.
It may not be long before a spurned Jobbik resorts to its signature brand of determined obstructionism and poisonous threats.
Implications for Europe and the U.S.
As President Joe Biden seeks to mend ties with Western European leaders, his administration has thus far avoided his predecessor’s attention to Central and Eastern Europe. He may want to start paying closer attention, and soon. Mr. Biden should also take care not to conclude that a win for the opposition would make his job much easier.
In remarks at February’s conference for the Three Seas Initiative, Secretary of State Antony Blinken publicly extolled the project’s virtues. Yet, its chief aim—regional economic integration in Central and Eastern Europe—could easily be set back if the government of one of its wealthiest, gas-exporting participants were to become preoccupied by internal divisions. Furthermore, political crosscurrents will likely make the new coalition unwilling or unable to collaborate with nearby powers that have found common cause with Fidesz, such as Poland.
As China and Russia push harder for inroads in Hungary’s neighborhood, criticism of Fidesz should not exonerate its competitors for their past. The left’s former standard bearer, Gyurcsány, had a close working relationship with President Vladimir Putin which resulted in deep ties to Russia. The same government aggressively cultivated Chinese investment. To undercut Fidesz’s hard-won reputation for economic competence, it is hard to imagine a new government avoiding replication of these policies in the absence of robust American engagement.
A Hungarian government deeply divided on foreign policy and at odds with itself over keeping faith with the EU may become even be less amenable to Western alternatives to Russian and Chinese influence in the region.
Sleeping ‘til Noon
Mark Twain once quipped “give a man a reputation as an early riser and he can sleep ’til noon.” Commentators, no matter their political stripes, should avoid falling for a similar misdirection in the case of Hungary’s leadership. Whether the intense focus on Mr. Orban’s personality is a deliberate political strategy or not—which, for someone as politically gifted as Mr. Orban, it would be hard to believe it isn’t—it has the effect of sucking up the oxygen in nearly any discussion involving him. Granting Mr. Orban a permissive air of permanence masks broader political trends.
Before jetting off to Hungary for his now-infamous visit, Tucker Carlson implored his audience that they “should know what is happening here right now.” The reality is that both enthusiasts and critics of Hungary’s government largely do not.
Viktor Orban can lose the next election. Hungary’s united opposition has a real chance of winning it. The real question is, can that coalition govern—and what will it mean for Budapest’s neighbors and allies?
These issues may lack the glitz of Carlson’s spotlight. Yet, they ultimately are of far greater importance to the lives of not just Hungarians but Europeans and Americans as well. It’s time to put down the remote and start paying attention.
