The international audience observing the Hungarian election result is likely to settle on a view that feels familiar. That this election was about east v west or that it was a “youthquake”, a win secured by the unprecedented participation of young voters. These narratives have some truth to them, of course, but, especially for those interested in fighting back against regimes such as Viktor Orbán’s, it’s worth taking a closer look at this campaign. Understanding Péter Magyar’s success will require progressives to rethink their strategies in similar political scenarios.
Orbán’s defeat was against all odds. The Hungarian electoral system was designed by his government after 2010 with only one thing in mind: the interests of his party, Fidesz. His cronies control vast sections of Hungarian society and economy, including most offline media. Orbán had been effective in perpetuating the myth that he could not be removed from power democratically, which limited the political imagination of many Hungarians.
Even as opinion polls showed a strong Tisza lead in the final weeks of the campaign, many still found it hard to believe that a win could be achieved at the ballot box. Too much was tilted in Orbán’s favour, too many times over the previous 16 years had opposition voters had to deal with disappointment on election night.
But Péter Magyar and his Tisza party, together with the Hungarian people, who turned out in record numbers to vote, broke the spell of Orbán’s omnipotence. With a “supermajority” in parliament, Tisza is now in a strong position to deliver a complete overhaul of the Hungarian constitutional and political system, or, as they call it, regime change.
This is remarkable when you consider that Magyar deserted Fidesz just a little over two years ago. In February 2024, the governing party had been shaken to its core by a moral and political scandal involving a presidential pardon of a felon convicted of covering up child abuse crimes at a state-run children’s home. The affair’s significance is that it destroyed the myth of Fidesz as the standard bearer of “family-friendly” ideas. Once it was clear that they had broken one of the strongest taboos in our culture, by pardoning someone involved in the cover-up of such criminal activities against children cared for by the state, the damage was irreparable. Magyar chose this moment to break ranks with Fidesz and give his first full-length interview to the independent press. He attacked his own side, the ruling party, and by doing so provided, in a moment of crisis, a narrative for people who were previously either politically disengaged or had even supported the government to reconsider their position.
By this point Orbán had been in power for 14 years, bolstered by a supermajority, a new one-party written constitution, a suite of favourable electoral laws, and a completely overhauled media. The party’s control extended to higher education and the cultural sectors. Large-scale corruption scandals and tensions over the rule of law, migration and other issues had drawn Hungary into ceaseless conflict with the EU. Yet it became increasingly fashionable among the political and intellectual elites of the Hungarian opposition to wring their hands while concluding that ousting Orbán through existing political institutions – in other words elections – was not even possible.
Tactically, the left-liberal parties pursued the same fruitless path. If Orbán took a stand on something, they took a directly opposing view. They tried to win people over by moral superiority, but with little regard for the viability or popularity, for instance, of opposition demands such as the dismantling of the anti-migration border fence.
Take another example: the role of national culture in our politics. Fidesz clearly tried to appropriate patriotic symbolism, and associate everyday things such as going to a football match with support for the right. The left-liberal parties were rightly critical of this. However, instead of offering an alternative vision of Hungarian national identity, they shied away from this issue for the most part, avoiding national symbols, conceding ground to Fidesz.
Magyar was different. He was able to attract attention and gain the trust of many by presenting insider information to back up claims about the rotten practices of the governing elite. Once he had decided to form a new political movement, he remained adamant that Orbán could be defeated, even on Hungary’s uneven electoral playing field. Instead of dwelling on the obstacles or playing the victim card while talking to voters from the comfort of the parliament or Budapest-based TV-studios (as so many of the so-called old opposition did), he began to tour the country and organise rallies, even in the Fidesz heartlands. His events featured Hungarian flags, folk songs, poems and historical references.
He knew, based on previous election results, opinion polls, and the worsening economic conditions, that Orbán could be defeated if the divisions, lack of leadership and absence of strategic agenda-setting on the opposition side could be addressed. His personal risk-taking in going up against his own upbringing, old friends and the mother of his children, gave him an aura of authenticity. If he was willing to do all this, people concluded, he must surely be ready to go all the way. At the same time, parties that seemed increasingly comfortable with being stuck in opposition, blaming Orbán for their fate, saw support crash.
Magyar has been accused of not showing sufficient support for progressive causes, such as gay rights, which on a personal level I can understand. But we must consider this win through a strategic political lens. Magyar was never in the business of convincing those who were already politically active and who voted for the opposition throughout the Orbán era. He campaigned almost exclusively in rural areas and talked about issues relevant to the majority of Hungarian people. This meant a rigorous focus on a narrow list of topics: the cost of living crisis, the collapse of state-run services such as education, healthcare and transport, and the enrichment of a few Orbán-friendly families while everyone else experienced a decline in their prospects.
Previously, the Fidesz propaganda machine had been good at “flooding the zone”; announcing new authoritarian measures and finding new targets in the NGO community, the media or among minority groups (trying to ban the 2025 Pride march in Budapest for example). Magyar knew all these tricks. He knew that allowing Fidesz to set the news agenda, leaving him in reactive mode, always criticising Orbán’s overreach and siding with the victim, even if that was a commendable thing, would do nothing to dismantle the regime or gain new supporters.
The historic turnout and results of this election reflect four years of economic decline and the negative fallout from the presidential pardon scandal. But most importantly, they are a product of the political work and campaign effort of the tens of thousands who volunteered or worked for Tisza, and their leader. Magyar recognised that he had to break with the old opposition completely, and was able to avoid the usual traps set up by Fidesz. In never questioning for a moment that Fidesz could be defeated democratically, he empowered Hungarians to imagine a future beyond Orbán’s rule.
Nóra Schultz is a Hungarian political theorist and podcaster
Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.