Step by Step: Hungary’s Democratic Reckoning and the Weight of What Comes Next
GCRD Insights
Step by Step
Hungary's Democratic Reckoning and the Weight of What Comes Next
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- The End of Fear
- The Exhaustion of Orbán
- Enter Magyar
- The Responsibilities of Governance
- Step by Step
The End of Fear
Back in the UK, my friends and colleagues were excited, perhaps even more than me, when they heard I would be in Hungary to witness what many hoped would be the fall of Viktor Orbán. None of them are Hungarians, yet they have followed the country's political and socioeconomic erosion closely enough to speak about it with confidence. Our shared focus has been populism and (semi-)authoritarianism in Hungary, and their consequences for democratic trust.
The first thing I noticed was that the fear had almost disappeared. While there were, and still could well exist, pockets where criticising the Orbán regime might not be tolerated, others driven by the sense that enough was enough had begun to raise their voices and urge others to do the same. As a member of the EU, the state had committed itself to certain norms and values, so why remain afraid of the Orbán circle? Fidesz's posters and propagandistic slogans in public spaces were torn down or sprayed over, their messages ridiculed. Online especially, creative content flourished, exposing what many saw as sixteen years of accumulated wrongdoing. Memes, short videos, and sharp commentary circulated widely, turning frustration into something visible and shareable. Others were watching The Dynasty, Democracy Noir, and Hungary: A Far-Right Testing Ground, each vividly exposing corruption and kleptocracy under Orbán. There was no shortage of content. The population was beginning to reclaim its voice, its dignity, and its sense of democratic agency.
The Exhaustion of Orbán
The point was clear: Orbán had exhausted his fellow Hungarians. So much so that the regime-orchestrated conspiracy theories, casting Viktátor as both editor-in-chief and savior of all Hungarians, had become laughable. As noted elsewhere, conspiracy theories often reinforce populist rhetoric. While they commonly rest on the assumption that a small group is covertly manipulating events for its own advantage, usually at the expense of the wider public interest, populists exploit them to portray themselves as the moral representatives of ordinary people and to depict their opponents as illegitimate. What ultimately happened to Orbán was not that he was an ineffective populist or conspiracy theorist, rather, that voters stopped believing him. His framing of political issues eventually worked against him, partly because conspiracy theories carry inherently negative associations and tend to lose credibility over time, especially when constantly challenged by evidence and factual scrutiny.
In the end, Orbán was thoroughly exposed. Little, if anything, remained of the once sharp-tongued reformer with a sense of direction, a man who had spoken of freedom and national pride, at once rebellious and reassuring. His modus operandi had become his greatest enemy, and it is here that a candid memoir could make a valuable contribution. He lost ground with an electorate tired of nepotism and state looting, tired too of the idea that success often required loyalty to the ruling elite, whether in securing tenders or appointments. They also felt the pressure of rapidly increasing prices and declining purchasing power. They opted for change, thinking it could hardly be worse than the status quo.
Enter Magyar
And then, all of a sudden, many of us abroad started hearing about a youngish Péter Magyar. Smart, confident. A real fighter. He had visited even the most remote parts of the country. A great speaker and an equally good listener. He had the looks. Some joked that he looked like a Ken doll or a New Kid on the Block brought to life, the version of adulthood imagined in childhood dreams — though what ultimately drew people to him was something more substantive: the sense that here was someone whose convictions had been tested from the inside. He was a package, no doubt. People liked him, and even parts of the opposition were willing to rally behind him. These were the kinds of phrases circulating in the run-up to the elections. He came across as someone whose arguments could mobilise crowds, eager to engage people across generations and convinced that change was just around the corner. He wore his trousers tight, tight enough to invite remarks; among the criticisms and interpretations, one message stood out: he is cocky and he has balls.
In April 2026, Tisza Party's historic victory liberated a political landscape that had been captured for too long. In many ways, Magyar now represents a newly reawakened Hungary. What perhaps matters more is that, having observed Orbán closely, Magyar understands how media outlets were suffocated and what happened to those that showed resistance to the 'Boss.' He knows how the notion of threat, whether from foreign influence or internal weakness, can be exploited to polarise society and consolidate power. Power is not static; it grows and adapts, and can reshape the person who holds it. Magyar knows the system, has moved within it, and understands both its rhythms and its weak points. That gave weight to his words during the campaign. All of this calls for caution. Magyar is an attractive nationalist who is also familiar with populism. Magyar is an attractive nationalist. He is also familiar with populism. As has rightly been warned elsewhere, while Tisza's victory means that 'what has already changed is the narrative,' Magyar's reputation as 'both insider and challenger' will be key to 'the pace and strategy of reform.'
The Responsibilities of Governance
For Magyar to succeed, it is an absolute imperative that his team take the notion of countervailing responsibility seriously. Back in the 1980s, Michael Harmon identified three distinct types of administrative responsibility and highlighted the inherent tensions among them. Political responsibility implies action that is accountable to, or consistent with, objectives or standards of conduct mandated by political or hierarchical authority. Professional responsibility implies action informed by professional expertise, standards of ethical conduct, and experience rooted in agency history and traditions. Personal responsibility implies action informed by self-reflexive understanding, emerging from a context of authentic relationships in which personal commitments are regarded as valid bases for moral action. These intersecting, and sometimes conflicting, forms of responsibility capture the ethical and practical challenges that public officials routinely have to balance.
To clarify further, in the context of Magyar's new government, political responsibility would require the new leadership to remain accountable to its electoral promises. Professional responsibility would require civil servants and political leaders to rely on expertise, legal standards, and established institutional practices rather than partisan loyalty or political expediency. If Magyar succeeds in rebuilding trust in state institutions and strengthening independent oversight, his reputation and long-term standing are likely to benefit considerably. Personal responsibility is also crucial. Public officials in a post-Orbán political environment are likely to face moral and ethical questions concerning their own silence and complicity. In Harmon's sense, authentic leadership requires self-reflection, particularly when confronting entrenched political practices and pressures. A concrete test will come early: how Magyar's government handles officials who served loyally under Orbán (whether through accountability processes, transitional arrangements, or deliberate continuity) will signal which form of responsibility is truly guiding its decisions.
Step by Step
In Hungary, the new government could face tensions between the demand for rapid reforms from voters, the constraints of legal and administrative procedures, and the personal ethical convictions of those involved in governance. The sooner a Magyar-led government strengthens and respects these forms of administrative responsibility, the lower the risk of a reOrbánisation of Hungary. He needs those structures to withstand sceptics who question whether a system shaped over many years can truly be shifted by a single new figure, no matter how striking his entrance.
Hungary's experience is not without precedent. Post-populist transitions in Poland following the defeat of PiS in 2023, and in Brazil after Bolsonaro's departure, have shown that electoral victory, however decisive, does not automatically dismantle the institutional and cultural legacies of prolonged illiberal rule. In each case, the pace of genuine democratic renewal has depended not only on the strength of new leadership but on the depth of institutional rebuilding, the restoration of public trust, and the willingness of those in power to hold themselves to the same standards they demanded of their predecessors. Hungary now enters that same demanding terrain.
During the campaign, Magyar did not shy away from confrontation. He seemed to move through those tensions almost comfortably, as if friction itself gave him energy. The task now is to carry that same quality from the campaign trail into the harder, quieter work of governing.
Published by the Global Centre for Rehumanising Democracy (GCRD) — gcrd.org.uk — 2nd Floor, College House, 17 King Edwards Road, Ruislip, London, HA4 7AE, United Kingdom
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of GCRD or those of our partners and stakeholders.

