The rise of Péter Magyar and the future of the illiberal state

The black swan lands

In early 2024, the presidential pardon scandal erupted, with the unexpected effect of the emergence of a new and influential player on the Hungarian domestic political scene. The former husband of the Minister of Justice, who resigned (or was made to resign) because of the amnesty scandal, destroyed the entire six-party opposition with his result in the EP elections(which is now threatened not by slow but by rapid denunciation), dashed the hopes of the Kétfarkú Kutya Party, prevented a major breakthrough for Mi Hazánk, and also lured a small number of voters away from Fidesz.

A black swan event, as it is known, is one that is highly unlikely to happen, but whose impact is elementary—such was the political emergence of Péter Magyar. Its success clearly required many people to be dissatisfied with both the government and the opposition. But this alone is not a sufficient explanation.

In 2010, the situation was somewhat similar. It was similar in the sense that many people (even if not as many) rejected the then ruling party and its opposition at the same time. However, it was not a new politician who burst onto the scene, but rather two new parties that appeared in Parliament: LMP (the Green Party) and Jobbik (a radical, right-wing party). Two organisations rose to power, not just one person. That is a huge difference.

It is not the same situation if groups are organised to represent their own particular goals and values—which then produce leaders who can be replaced if necessary—and if a person comes along and organises a party (or a person becomes so strong in a group founded by many that he becomes irreplaceable).

In the former case (where the leader can be replaced), the interests and values of the organised group are represented in politics, while in the latter case, the interests and values of the organised group are determined by the characters of the politicians (often, of course, with regard to the perceived majority position). The former is a democratic mode of operation, which fits the logic of representative democracy, while the latter is an authoritarian mode of operation—which is spreading worldwide and challenges the institution of liberal democracy.

Nowadays, in democratic systems, it is no longer the parties that have leaders, but the leaders who have parties, who are irreplaceable, as we see with Trump and the Republicans, Orbán and Fidesz, or Gyurcsány and DK (the Democratic Coalition). This is often referred to as the personalisation of politics, increasingly linked to the person(s), for which the influence of electronic and digital media is often blamed.

Manuel Castells argues convincingly in his book Rupture: The Crisis of Liberal Democracy that in practice, the only politics that exists and can have an impact is the politics that the media world shows us. And in the media world, the messages must be extremely simple. Such a simple and powerful message is the human face. It is through the face of a politician that the relationship of trust between voters and the elected is built. Trust in politics of any kind is trust in the politician as a person. It follows that the most effective form of political attack is to destroy that trust. Negative messages are five times more effective in influencing opinion than positive ones, writes Castells.

It is no coincidence, then, that anyone who follows public life is more likely to witness character assassinations and attempted character assassinations than public policy debates—including in Hungary. This has already become apparent in the strong personalisation of Hungarian political life—beyond Orbán and Gyurcsány, the two decisive and irreplaceable leaders identified with their parties. The ultimate proof of this, however, is that Péter Magyar (and his party of a few) has managed to become the strongest opposition force within a short period of time.

Péter Magyar and the “megaspectacle”

We can make Péter Magyar’s burst into public life more understandable by adding a term, namely “megaspectacle”. In short, modern politics has also become an attraction (or, in other words, a spectacle). In the world of media and infotainment, what is politically significant is what is entertaining and attention-grabbing. The “megaspectacle” stands out from the other spectacles, becomes the central event against which everything else is measured and which is given special attention in the media.

As Kellner argues, “Media spectacles are often constructed and played out in the form of megaspectacles whereby events such as the Gulf War, sensational murder cases such as the O. J. Simpson trials, celebrity and political sex scandals, or terrorist bombings come to dominate an ever-mushrooming tabloid and infotainment culture.”[1]

Péter Magyar did not only promise to expose the system; he did much more. By speaking out as a member of the NER[2] (System of National Cooperation, the network of political and cultural institutions and private corporations closely aligned with the Prime Minister and Fidesz) in defence of the Minister of Justice implicated in the pardon scandal, who happened to be his ex-wife, he created a strong tabloid element, a personal thread to the story, which was then further strengthened by the backlash from government media.

Péter Magyar’s emergence on the scene became a megaspectacle which is why he was able to transform the stage of domestic politics to such an extent.

The new political space

If we accept that Hungarian politics has become extremely personalised (and perhaps we can, given the above), then it is also undeniable that there are three dominant political figures on the domestic political stage today: Viktor Orbán, Ferenc Gyurcsány and Péter Magyar. Gergely Karácsony (the Mayor of Budapest) could also be included in this group, if he did not seem to be resigning from this role and wanting to focus exclusively on urban policy. Thus, for the time being, the new political space is mainly a three-politician force field.

Apparently, Ferenc Gyurcsány is no longer an important political player. But it is too early to write him off. Gyurcsány can count on Fidesz to help him get back on track with its own means—for example, by featuring him in the media he influences. It is in Fidesz’s vital interest to keep the hereditary chairman of DK on the political stage. Even if Orbán cannot expect to get his former main opponent back to replace Péter Magyar, simply splitting the opposition vote would be a success for him.

Of course, it is undeniable that Orbán and Magyar are the two dominant players. The centre of the new political space is on the right, and the shift to the right in Hungarian society and politics seems unstoppable.

Fidesz has made the question of who we want to live with in a country a central issue of its politics (it is a distinguished disciple of Carl Schmitt, who reduced political action to the distinction between friend and foe; the Nazi jurist also provided inspiration for permanent decree government). In line with the general shift to the right, DK has also called for a ban on the admission of non-EU guest workers.

Péter Magyar’s Tisza Party seems to be sucking up almost all the air from the other opposition parties. It helps Magyar a great deal that the six-party opposition has so far educated its voters to vote for the most likely opposition candidate. As long as Magyar is present on the political scene—and he is likely to remain so until 2026—he can count on the votes of many opposition voters who are not particularly sympathetic to him.

Although logic would dictate that there would be a demand for a credible new left-wing force in a political space dominated by the two big right-wing parties, it would not be easy to create a new progressive left-green force on the ruins of the current opposition, or even in the green field, that could successfully compete in 2026.

The new Hungarian public sphere

An important development in 2024 was the strong opposition to the independent press expressed by the leaders of the two main opposition parties. According to Péter Magyar, a significant part of the so-called independent press is also part of the Orbán power factory. And Gyurcsány suggested that at least a significant part of the independent press was helping the Orbán regime. Previously, such statements by the opposition would have been unthinkable.

It is well known to many that a significant proportion of the public sphere in Hungary is made up of newspapers and TV and radio stations that are directly owned by Fidesz, or that are even superficially oppositional, but in reality are linked to Fidesz in an owner-economy way. The few remaining genuinely independent media are typically in a difficult financial situation due to the state-distorted media market. And the government appears to be trying once again to cut them off from foreign funding, this time through the Sovereignty Protection Office.

Does it make any difference to the dwindling independent press, which is already balancing on melting ice, if even the most influential opposition politicians say they are not independent? For example, it is rumoured that Hungary’s leading public, economic and political weekly newspaper, HVG, lost a number of subscribers after Péter Magyar angrily and otherwise unfoundedly propagandised one of their journalists.

For a brief digression on why, we need to invoke Hannah Arendt, the political thinker who has spent much time on the question of what tyranny and freedom are. The possibilities of tyranny are greatly influenced by how we perceive reality.

According to Arendt, we live in a world of appearances. We can only perceive reality if, in addition to our five senses, we also have the opinions of other people regarding what they perceive. It is by looking at the same object from different perspectives that we construct our common reality. Our shared reality collapses when people become isolated from each other, or when mass society results in their ways of seeing and thinking becoming so alike that they are as much alike as if they were family, Arendt explains in her book, The Human Condition.

This is why the phenomenon of the social media bubble, whereby we only see the opinions of people like us, is so dangerous. And that is why the criticism of the independent press, claiming that it should not be allowed to carry opposition views, is justified.

It is a paradox that the flagship newspaper of the NER, Index, publishes opinion pieces written by opposition leaders, while the independent press doesn’t. This does not, of course, mean that Index is a model of democratic public service—no, Index is just trying not to lose its opposition readers. But ultimately, it does serve the interests of the NER.

The independent press, however, does not see its role as that of publishing opposition opinions. This is either because they are (wrongly) demonstrating their independence or because they do not (much) care about politics. If the most influential opposition politicians interpret this kind of—in my opinion, also wrong—role perception for their electorate as meaning that the independent press is not independent and that no one should trust them, then this could have a serious and, in the long-term, destructive effect.

Perhaps the most important task of the press is to provide facts for the debates in the political space. “Freedom of opinion is a farce unless factual information is guaranteed and the facts themselves are not in dispute,” writes Arendt in her essay Truth and Politics.

By seeking to undermine public confidence in the remaining independent press, the dominant opposition politicians of the new political space are undermining the possibility of democracy—or, let us say, of a possible future democracy.

Here I must refer back to the distinction I mentioned earlier between those politicians who are “produced” by their own party and can be replaced, and those who cannot be replaced by their party. The detachable politicians are surrounded by the common world, the objective reality (or at least the reality shared by others) built up by their party colleagues, and this reflects back on them. The irremovable politicians are not bound by this common world; their subjectivity is not limited by this kind of objective (or rather intersubjective) reality.

But the “subjective reality feed” from the politician who cannot be replaced by his party can still be hindered by an independent press and so-called facts. To this, the product of personalised politics, the irremovable politician often has a particular response: he tries to undermine confidence in the independent press. We see it with Trump, and we see it with our domestic politicians. It is obvious why politicians do this, but let us say it anyway: objective reality is a disturbing factor for the political subject.

As a result, reality (at least in the Arendtian sense) disappears from the political sphere. The electorate is subordinated. Instead of actively participating in the construction of our common reality, they are ultimately left to choose between the subjective realities of the political characters who dominate the political space. This development is not at all conducive to democracy.

The ideology and economic prospects of the illiberal state

There are many reasons for Fidesz’s electoral successes so far, but one of them is certainly not the ideology of the ruling parties. The Fidesz-KDNP political Christianity is terribly discredited. Nor do the visions of government leaders presented at Tusványos[3] add up to an uncontroversial explanation of the world.

I will now highlight two important reasons for Fidesz’s electoral success. The first is the “I’m protecting you from something” campaign that takes place during every election. The second, which carries greater importance, is the creation of an impression of a well-functioning economy in the electorate: planting the belief in the majority of voters that they will prosper financially in the years ahead.

Fidesz has done both well so far. Between 2013 and 2022, real wages increased significantly as a result of the inflow of EU money and the boom in the global economy. It is true that other countries in our region are doing much better at taking advantage of the boom. Wages in Romania have now overtaken those in Hungary in purchasing power parity terms, with only Latvia, Bulgaria and Slovakia lagging behind. But voters do not browse comparative statistics. They base their opinions on their own experience of the government’s economic policy performance.

In the last EP elections, the “I’m protecting you from something” campaign worked effectively as usual. However, the belief in material prosperity has faded for many voters, probably due to the average real wage decrease of almost 3% last year. This is why Fidesz achieved a much weaker result than five years ago.

So, the question is: can Fidesz restore the faith of the majority of voters in their future financial prosperity? The Hungarian economy is on an unsustainable path; it is living its own future. The economic foundations of the Hungarian illiberal state are built on sand. It is not a question of what will happen, but only of what will happen in the meantime—as the old joke from before the regime change used to go. Until then—that is, until the next elections—it will not be easy to create the illusion of progress and material prosperity.

The external, global economic conditions are not ideal, and the EU money is not coming. However, Fidesz is not to be feared when it comes to pursuing an “on-again, off-again” policy. How innovative they can be when it comes to retaining power is illustrated by the planned “workers’ credit” scheme, which the government intends to use to entrust the noble task of using credit to stimulate the economy to young workers who are likely to be in debt for a long time.

A relatively significant minimum wage increase is expected to take place in 2025, which could help to force a larger real wage increase in the labour market. Another question is how the future central bank governor, who will replace György Matolcsy next year, will assist the government’s expected “on-again, off-again” economic policy.

If too servile a chairman is appointed, the central bank could even backfire. All in all, Fidesz has a chance to successfully create the illusion of a prosperous economy for the majority of voters from 2025 until spring 2026, but it will not be very smooth, nor will it be without risks.

Illiberalism and the chances of democracy

Viktor Orbán is responsible for the creation of the Hungarian illiberal state. If Fidesz loses the election in 2026, his illiberal state will be over, even if the economic-institutional web of the NER remains with us, many probably think. Even if that were the case, it is certainly worth adding that a well-functioning democracy needs democrats first and foremost.

If people, rather than participating in politics and joining a party or a political movement they like, watch politicians on TV and follow them on Facebook and identify with them emotionally instead, as if they were some kind of soap opera heroes, then we can hardly expect an improvement in the quality of democracy.

According to a recent study, the rule of law and democracy are weakening around the world, including in Europe. It would be a miracle if the quality of democracy in Hungary were to improve and the illiberal state were to disappear. Yet miracles do happen. Hannah Arendt encourages us to expect them in her book What is Politics?. I will conclude by quoting from Arendt at some length to inject some optimism into this long and perhaps somewhat depressing essay:

“If, then, we expect miracles as a consequence of the impasse in which our world finds itself, such an expectation in no way banishes us from the political realm in its original sense. If the meaning of politics is freedom, that means that in this realm—and in no other—we do indeed have the right to expect miracles. Not because we superstitiously believe in miracles, but because human beings, whether or not they know it, as long as they can act, are capable of achieving, and constantly do achieve, the improbable and unpredictable.”[4]