Viktor Orban and his party suffered an electoral defeat. At such times, an aura of hopelessness envelopes a party and its leaders, if only for a short while. Often, this is unfair. But in mass democracies, a political leader is dispensable: it can take just one defeat for the formerly untouchable leader to lose his sheen.
This was not always the case. The parliamentary systems of the 19th century were dominated by giants who gave their names to entire eras, whose careers encompassed several victories and defeats. Clashes between William Gladstone and Benjamin Disraeli dominated British politics for decades. And even Winston Churchill was allotted several political rebirths. In Italy, Amintore Fanfani was appointed prime minister five times in 33 years, Giulio Andreotti was sworn in 3 times in 17 years. After the Adenauer era, German public life was dominated by the "constellation of three": the Social Democratic trio of Brandt, Wehner and Schmidt shows how politicians can reinvent themselves over long periods of time.
But politicians who lose no longer have this luxury. With the growing importance of television in informing the public, the loser's face burns itself into the minds of the voters. The leaders themselves know this, and mostly they resign unprompted. Parties know it too, happily replacing their tarnished icon. Sometimes this is a mistake; nonetheless, an electoral defeat offers an opportunity to renew a political team, to rethink its policies, to dream up a new strategy.
Fidesz's second electoral defeat in a row, however depressing it may be for the party's members and supporters, nonetheless gives Fidesz the chance to reinvent itself after four wasted years. Yet the biggest obstacle would seem to be Viktor Orban himself. A founder of the party, its leader for thrteen years, its absolute ruler of more than a decade, he does not wish to resign his post. He intends to remain the right wing's commander-in-chief. In most cases, the party elite would force the leader to resign. But Orban will enjoy the absolute confidence and admiration of the party's leadership for as long as they remain his captive. This must change. However, as Peter Tolgyessy, himself once an enthusiastic believer and a former Fidesz MP, has said: "Nobody on the Right can force Fidesz's president to resign."
Not only did Orban fashion his party in his own image, he also did much to make sure his own leadership role could never be called into question. A political grouping that was in its infancy little more than a telephone answering machine never did evolve into a genuine mass party. Public debate and collective decisions never played much of a role in Fidesz. From the very beginning, policy was made by small groups of people meeting informally, with the decisions later being presented to the world as Orban's personal view. Orban can hire and fire at will, much like an Ottoman sultan. He decided who would stand in individual member constituencies, just as he decided who would make the party lists. This absurd situation led to the rise and fall of Istvan Mikola. The complete lack of internal checks and balances is shown by the way in which at Fidesz's March conference, meant to draft an electoral programme, Mihaly Varga was the only person other than Orban himself who could deliver a serious speech, before delegates had even seen the draft manifesto. Why should they need to see it? No debate was held, nor was there a vote. The formalities were ignored: the party's manifesto simply came into being.
At the same time, there are occasional hints of dissatisfaction among old Fidesz hands. Names are mentioned, including those of Janos Ader, Lajos Kosa, Zoltan Pokorni and Antal Rogan - it is suggested some or all of them might band together to bring Orban down. It is still impossible to say if this is just wishful thinking on the part of the Left and the press, or if there is a germ of truth in it. But however disciplined Fidesz's external communication, gestures, hints and indiscretions all suggest that there are some within the party who hold Orban responsible for the electoral defeat. The way he stood down as prime ministerial candidate between rounds, before putting himself forward again. The way he was unable to stamp on attempts by his own clients, the Christian Democrat MPs, to form their own party group. Even the Catholic Church seems to be aligning itself behind the errant Christian Democrats. The Hungarian Democratic Forum's success is also a bad sign for a party leader who strives for absolute hegemony over the right wing.
Nonetheless, those who argue against replacing Orban say there is nobody with the charisma to dominate a party so beholden to its leader. This is true, yet John Major was less talented than Margaret Thatcher, and he still rode to power on the back of an internal putsch, and was rewarded by the voters with another term in office. In the end, he served as prime minister for seven years.
Others say that not only does Orban take all the decisions, he also has the keys to the safe. It is claimed that he controls all of Fidesz's financial affairs via his close adviser Lajos Simicska. He collects, divides and distributes the cash himself.
A striking feature of the last four years in Hungarian politics is that the country's millionaires are playing a growing role in public life. Gyurcsany, Koka, Leisztinger, Demjan, Csanyi and Gabor Szeles's ambitions are well known. But even more important, the tycoons have changed from being simple paymasters into politicians. It is now clear that Peter Medgyessy's fall was not purely the result of discontent within the party: the rich also played a role in ousting the prime minister.
Now it is only the paymasters and wealthy businessman who can oust Orban, who seems to have lost touch with reality even while preserving his will to fight. They can encourage the malcontents, they can turn off the taps. At least if this is what they want to do, and they are not counting on Orban, who deserves better, dying a slow and agonising political death. Which would be the worst outcome for everyone.
Zsolt Zádori
This was not always the case. The parliamentary systems of the 19th century were dominated by giants who gave their names to entire eras, whose careers encompassed several victories and defeats. Clashes between William Gladstone and Benjamin Disraeli dominated British politics for decades. And even Winston Churchill was allotted several political rebirths. In Italy, Amintore Fanfani was appointed prime minister five times in 33 years, Giulio Andreotti was sworn in 3 times in 17 years. After the Adenauer era, German public life was dominated by the "constellation of three": the Social Democratic trio of Brandt, Wehner and Schmidt shows how politicians can reinvent themselves over long periods of time.
But politicians who lose no longer have this luxury. With the growing importance of television in informing the public, the loser's face burns itself into the minds of the voters. The leaders themselves know this, and mostly they resign unprompted. Parties know it too, happily replacing their tarnished icon. Sometimes this is a mistake; nonetheless, an electoral defeat offers an opportunity to renew a political team, to rethink its policies, to dream up a new strategy.
Fidesz's second electoral defeat in a row, however depressing it may be for the party's members and supporters, nonetheless gives Fidesz the chance to reinvent itself after four wasted years. Yet the biggest obstacle would seem to be Viktor Orban himself. A founder of the party, its leader for thrteen years, its absolute ruler of more than a decade, he does not wish to resign his post. He intends to remain the right wing's commander-in-chief. In most cases, the party elite would force the leader to resign. But Orban will enjoy the absolute confidence and admiration of the party's leadership for as long as they remain his captive. This must change. However, as Peter Tolgyessy, himself once an enthusiastic believer and a former Fidesz MP, has said: "Nobody on the Right can force Fidesz's president to resign."
Not only did Orban fashion his party in his own image, he also did much to make sure his own leadership role could never be called into question. A political grouping that was in its infancy little more than a telephone answering machine never did evolve into a genuine mass party. Public debate and collective decisions never played much of a role in Fidesz. From the very beginning, policy was made by small groups of people meeting informally, with the decisions later being presented to the world as Orban's personal view. Orban can hire and fire at will, much like an Ottoman sultan. He decided who would stand in individual member constituencies, just as he decided who would make the party lists. This absurd situation led to the rise and fall of Istvan Mikola. The complete lack of internal checks and balances is shown by the way in which at Fidesz's March conference, meant to draft an electoral programme, Mihaly Varga was the only person other than Orban himself who could deliver a serious speech, before delegates had even seen the draft manifesto. Why should they need to see it? No debate was held, nor was there a vote. The formalities were ignored: the party's manifesto simply came into being.
At the same time, there are occasional hints of dissatisfaction among old Fidesz hands. Names are mentioned, including those of Janos Ader, Lajos Kosa, Zoltan Pokorni and Antal Rogan - it is suggested some or all of them might band together to bring Orban down. It is still impossible to say if this is just wishful thinking on the part of the Left and the press, or if there is a germ of truth in it. But however disciplined Fidesz's external communication, gestures, hints and indiscretions all suggest that there are some within the party who hold Orban responsible for the electoral defeat. The way he stood down as prime ministerial candidate between rounds, before putting himself forward again. The way he was unable to stamp on attempts by his own clients, the Christian Democrat MPs, to form their own party group. Even the Catholic Church seems to be aligning itself behind the errant Christian Democrats. The Hungarian Democratic Forum's success is also a bad sign for a party leader who strives for absolute hegemony over the right wing.
Nonetheless, those who argue against replacing Orban say there is nobody with the charisma to dominate a party so beholden to its leader. This is true, yet John Major was less talented than Margaret Thatcher, and he still rode to power on the back of an internal putsch, and was rewarded by the voters with another term in office. In the end, he served as prime minister for seven years.
Others say that not only does Orban take all the decisions, he also has the keys to the safe. It is claimed that he controls all of Fidesz's financial affairs via his close adviser Lajos Simicska. He collects, divides and distributes the cash himself.
A striking feature of the last four years in Hungarian politics is that the country's millionaires are playing a growing role in public life. Gyurcsany, Koka, Leisztinger, Demjan, Csanyi and Gabor Szeles's ambitions are well known. But even more important, the tycoons have changed from being simple paymasters into politicians. It is now clear that Peter Medgyessy's fall was not purely the result of discontent within the party: the rich also played a role in ousting the prime minister.
Now it is only the paymasters and wealthy businessman who can oust Orban, who seems to have lost touch with reality even while preserving his will to fight. They can encourage the malcontents, they can turn off the taps. At least if this is what they want to do, and they are not counting on Orban, who deserves better, dying a slow and agonising political death. Which would be the worst outcome for everyone.
Zsolt Zádori