Hungary’s election and Europe’s struggle with inevitability

Hungary’s election on April 12th is attracting unusual attention across Europe. The prime minister, Viktor Orban, is a poster boy for contemporary populism—a Trump before Trump—and an inspiration for Europe’s far right. But, for the first time in 16 years, he and his Fidesz party are in trouble.

Some polling suggests opposition leader Peter Magyar and his Tisza party could go as far as securing a constitutional majority. This outcome would allow them to dismantle key elements of the Orban system and rewrite Hungary’s legal and institutional framework. If realised, it would be one of the most consequential political reversals in the EU for decades.

Europe’s mainstream should take note: even if Magyar ultimately does not prevail, his improbable challenge to Orban underlines that the “winds of change” can still blow both ways.

A campaign that shifts the weathervane

Orban operates within a remarkably favourable international environment. Russian president Vladimir Putin treats Hungary as a strategic partner in the EU, including through close intelligence cooperation. Donald Trump, the American president, has repeatedly and publicly endorsed Orban in unusually direct political terms, elevating him as a model for the “illiberal internationale”. Xi Jinping’s China has backed Hungary through sustained economic engagement and strategic investment, while Binyamin Netanyahu has openly expressed political support for Orban ahead of the election.

This is not merely rhetorical alignment. It reflects a pattern of active political and strategic support that, intuitively, might entrench Orban’s position. But Hungary’s internal dynamics still appear to be moving in the opposite direction.

“Trump’s second-in-command J.D. Vance is visiting Hungary in the week before the election to boost Orban’s campaign, in a clear violation of international norms”

Orban seems to recognise what is at stake. His campaign tactics have long exceeded conventional democratic competition. But the intensity of the 2026 cycle suggests a system under pressure. Fidesz combines its overwhelming financial and media dominance with increasingly aggressive tactics, from national security-linked narratives to alleged “false flag operations” and the demonisation of his opponents as “spies”. Moreover, Trump’s second-in-command J.D. Vance is visiting Hungary in the week before the election to boost Orban’s campaign, in a clear violation of international norms.

Still, Europe’s mainstream should resist viewing either Orban’s (and his friends’) tactics or Magyar’s strength in the polls as bugs in the same old system. Rather, they are signs of a (geo)politics that increasingly operates outside recognisable norms.

Europe’s giraffe moment

There is a well-known central European joke about a man visiting a zoo. Standing in front of a giraffe, the man studies the beast for a moment, then declares with confidence: “Such an animal does not exist.” European debates about Hungary and the far right sometimes follow a similar logic. When political developments fail to fit expectations, the instinct is to dismiss them as anomalies.

But if resources like Orban’s do not reliably convert into political power, if deeply entrenched systems can suddenly begin to shake, and if external backing does not necessarily stabilise them, then these are not exceptions. Such uncertainty is often experienced in Europe as a source of vulnerability: take, for instance, anxieties about the Trump administration pursuing “regime change” in Europe. But if the constraints are loosening, then the space for political agency is expanding. And, as Hungary may come to show, this is not only relevant to revisionist or disruptive actors.

It should also motivate those political forces that continue to believe in fairness and decency, but often find themselves outmatched by the aggressive logic of destructive populism. Europe’s mainstream often seems to be playing on a field defined by its opponents, where asymmetry, amplification and norm-breaking inevitably favour the latter. But in such a fluid, unpredictable (geo)political environment, this is not necessarily the case.

Recognising the lack of inevitability does not eliminate the imbalance. But it does open up new possibilities. The ability to act within an evolving set of rules, whether domestically or internationally, may prove just as important as resources or structural advantage. This implies Europe’s mainstream needs to extend the boundaries of its political imagination—and recognise that giraffes may, in fact, exist.