Orbán’s long slide from liberal hopeful to power-first populist
By Gwynne Dyer
When I met Viktor Orbán in Budapest two months before the Berlin Wall fall, he was a typical hyper-ambitious student leader.
Anybody who has been to university knows the type: fluent, ruthless, always scanning for opportunity, and oddly old still to be a student. He was 26.
Orbán had just gained a national profile in Hungary with a bold speech demanding free elections and the withdrawal of Soviet troops. Hungarian-American George Soros, then already wealthy and influential, brought him over and introduced us. I had just interviewed Soros.
Soros was on a mission to bring liberal democracy to Hungary and had recently spotted Orbán, making him his protégé. He was sending Orbán to Pembroke College at Oxford to complete a master’s degree and deepen his exposure to liberal ideas.
We spoke at length. It was clear Orbán had decided Soros was the opportunity he had been waiting for. He had already founded Fidesz, which was liberal in those days, but he spoke like a liberal without seeming to believe in it — or in anything beyond power.
He became prime minister by 1998, still presenting himself as a liberal democrat, and led Hungary into NATO the following year. He lost the 2002 election and spent eight years in opposition. When he returned to power in 2010, it was as a hard-right nationalist populist.
He has won every election since. He and his allies are now among the richest people in Hungary. Elections remain formally free, but most of the country’s media are owned by his supporters.
Relentless messaging tells Hungarians they are under constant threat: immigrants, LGBTQ communities, Roma, Jews — with Soros often singled out — alongside liberals, the European Union and even NATO, despite Hungary belonging to both. Ukraine is now added to the list.
Why does it resonate? Partly because of a deep national grievance: Hungary lost more than two-thirds of its territory after the Treaty of Trianon that followed the First World War. That history still shapes political emotion.
Populist leaders rise elsewhere in Europe as well. Slovakia and the Czech Republic have their own versions. Even the United Kingdom could see one in Nigel Farage. But Orbán has sustained power through four consecutive elections.
That may now be at risk. Hungary votes April 12, and for months Fidesz has trailed the opposition Tisza Party by about 10 percentage points. The core issue is economic stagnation, something Orbán has struggled to reverse.
Under pressure, he has escalated familiar tactics. Like many European populists, he blames “Brussels.” He has long opposed EU support for Ukraine and often aligns rhetorically with Vladimir Putin. Now he casts Ukraine itself as a threat.
A central campaign image is an AI-generated video of a Hungarian girl crying at a window, intercut with scenes of her father being executed in war.
“This is only a nightmare now,” the caption says, “but Brussels is preparing to make it a reality… Let’s not take risks. Fidesz is the safe choice.”
The message is blunt: vote for him or risk war. Facts are secondary. Emotion does the work.
Orbán also vetoed a 90-billion-euro EU loan package intended to support Ukraine. Hungary, along with Slovakia and Czechia, had previously agreed to the plan with exemptions. As his polling weakened, he reversed course.
Even so, he may still lose. And whatever the outcome, the transformation is complete. The ambitious liberal student who once spoke the language of democracy now governs through fear, grievance and control.