Quo Vadis, Democrats?

In 2017, I was an exchange student—or, as my Lisbon classmates would kindly correct me with their European references, I was doing my “Erasmus” at the Portuguese Catholic University in Lisbon. During that time, I took classes with someone I consider one of the most brilliant contemporary minds in Lusophone political science: André Azevedo Alves. Although we stand on different sides of the political spectrum—which naturally leads to constant disagreement—I appreciate his arguments, I feel challenged by his reflections, and I admit that, at times, he convinces me of his arguments. Ever since our classes ended, I’ve made a point of reading his columns in Observador whenever I can. This column is inspired by, and engages with, his recent piece titled “Lessons from Budapest,” in which Alves describes events in Budapest not as a failure of conservatism, but of Orbán himself, and outlines two models of global conservatism: one led by Orbán, the other by Meloni, Italy’s prime minister.

This discussion goes far beyond mere academic nitpicking or curiosity. Hungary has become one of the most studied cases of democratic erosion in the past decade. As the first example of an “illiberal democracy”—a term popularized by Orbán himself—it has also become a model exported to various parts of the globe, including Latin America and the United States. It is the first and longest-standing case within the European Union of a sustained process of executive aggrandizement and weakening of institutional checks. It is also the stage for a transnational network of conservative and illiberal forces, with events featuring figures such as Carlos Bolsonaro, Le Pen, Meloni, CPAC Europe, and many others.

But let us start with the facts. After the fall of the communist regime in Hungary in 1989, the country became, like most European nations, a parliamentary republic. This means that citizens elect representatives to parliament, and from that parliamentary majority the government emerges. The prime minister, chosen based on majority support in parliament, effectively leads domestic and foreign policy, appoints ministers, and makes day-to-day executive decisions. In other words, the political leader is chosen by the majority coalition in parliament—not directly by citizens, as in Brazil. Also unlike Brazil, the president in Hungary holds mostly institutional and symbolic roles and does not govern directly. That is the prime minister’s role.

Viktor Orbán first took office as prime minister in 1998, lost to a socialist coalition in 2002, returned to power through free and fair elections in 2010, and went on to win every subsequent national election, remaining in office continuously for 16 years. That is, he won every election up to 2026, when Péter Magyar (whose surname literally means “Hungarian”) secured 53.18% of the vote for his Tisza party, winning 141 of the 199 parliamentary seats. Orbán’s Fidesz party received just 38.61% of the vote, or 52 seats. With a supermajority, Magyar now has the power to alter many of the laws and positions established during the Orbán era, changes that would be impossible with a simple majority.

Orbán tried everything: smear campaigns linking Magyar to Zelensky, George Soros, and Ursula von der Leyen; the release of a sextape showing Magyar having sex with his own wife; pre-election cash handouts; rallies turned into large public events; and warnings that the war in Ukraine would spread across Europe. Orbán was endorsed by Trump, Milei, Meloni, Le Pen, JD Vance, and many others in the transnational conservative alliance (with the exception of Bolsonaro, who could not melt his electronic ankle monitor or access the internet).

With such prominent international backing from figures across the global “right”—a label stretched to include Milei’s radical libertarianism, Meloni’s national conservatism, Trump-style right-wing populism, and Alice Weidel’s “anti-globalism” (echoed in Brazil by former foreign minister Ernesto Araújo)—combined with a powerful campaign machine and 16 years in office, how did Orbán suffer such a decisive electoral defeat? Is this the beginning of the end of European conservatism? Alves argues it is not, and I think we should listen.

Consider this: last year, Hungary’s economy grew by only 0.4%, while Poland grew by 3.6%. Public services such as healthcare and education have deteriorated, as has Hungarians’ purchasing power amid soaring inflation. Most government contracts appear suspicious, often attracting only a single bidder and benefiting a small circle of Fidesz allies. When toxic leaks at a Samsung battery factory north of Budapest were covered up, the sense of impunity only deepened. These, Alves argues, are the real reasons behind Magyar’s electoral success.

But there is more to it. Magyar is not a socialist trade unionist, nor a liberal academic. He is not a centrist aristocrat or a liberal business owner. From 2002 to 2024, he built his political career within Fidesz itself and became known for his conservative positions. He broke with the ruling party not over ideological differences, but due to stagnating living standards and systemic corruption, something Alves describes as a “return to Fidesz’s own core ideological principles.”

In his first months in office, Magyar adopted an even tougher stance than Orbán on temporary work visas for non-EU citizens. After his victory, he invoked the Austro-Hungarian Empire to justify strengthening ties with Vienna. He demanded that Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico repeal the Beneš Decrees—postwar measures that enabled the expulsion and expropriation of Hungarians. He even agreed to meet Zelensky, despite opposing Ukraine’s EU membership, provided the meeting took place in Berehove, a Ukrainian city with a Hungarian ethnic majority. Not even the EU-Mercosur agreement escaped scrutiny, as Magyar’s MEPs voted against it.

The point I hope is clear: contrary to the euphoric voices on the left, Magyar’s victory does not mark the end of the European right, nor even of European conservatism. It may not even represent a regime change or the democratization of Hungary, but rather the replacement of one personalist regime with another. Just as overly optimistic democrats once misread the fall of the USSR as the “end of history” and the total victory of democracy, they may now be making a similar mistake with Magyar’s victory.

This is not to say there has been no democratic progress. Orbán spent 16 years expanding executive power and colonizing the legislature, judiciary, media, and civil society. Now in opposition, the struggle for influence may lead either to collusion or to the reversal of many Orbán-era policies. It simply means the gains may not be as significant as some suggest.

So what do we do with this?

Here is where my respected professor and I part ways. Alves will reflect on the lessons Budapest offers to a right that has learned how to learn, while I ask, “what now, democrats?”—a more complex question, aimed at a group that seems less capable of adapting in time to the changes imposed by modernity (and to be clear, not all of the right is authoritarian, though as Svolik and colleagues argue, much of it is). Still, I have a few ideas.

The first is already well known, proposed by authors like Applebaum, and seems simple when stated plainly: if authoritarians have formed an authoritarian alliance, why shouldn’t democrats form a mutual support network as well? This is the idea behind the Global Progressive Mobilization, led by Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, bringing together figures such as Lula, Mexico’s president Claudia Sheinbaum, South African leader Cyril Ramaphosa, Colombia’s Gustavo Petro, Portugal’s António Costa, former Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Löfven, and Italian opposition leader Elly Schlein. As Owen Jones wrote in The Guardian, “a left capable of uniting around a convincing program of economic justice, one that redirects anger toward entrenched wealth and power rather than migrants, remains the most plausible alternative in an age of economic pressure and geopolitical instability. It would be overly optimistic to declare that Barcelona marked its rebirth. But it offered at least a glimpse of what it might look like.”

Better late than never. If progressives learn slowly, at least they have learned (or relearned) the importance of a transnational alliance. What they still seem to struggle with is communication on social media, a domain largely ruled by the authoritarian right. Part of the process may involve reclaiming nationalist narratives (something I unfortunately lack space to explore here, but I strongly recommend an article by my other brilliant professor, Filip Milačić, referenced below, which examines its potential and pathways). Lula has begun doing this in Brazil following Trump-era tariff disputes, but much work remains to be done.

Similarly, another part of the process is the broad, global, and unwavering defense of democracy. This means transnational support cannot extend to left-wing dictatorships, even if they are ideologically aligned. More importantly, it means defending a global system grounded in values like human rights—not just trade or power balances.

I understand that the left is cautious about doctrines like the responsibility to protect (and rightly so, given Latin America’s history of foreign interventions). There is concern about what is done in the name of universal values like democracy and human rights. Fair enough. But historical experience shows that the principle of sovereignty, when absolutized, often protects authoritarian elites at the expense of the populations living under them. The issue is not the principles themselves, but their misuse.

Ultimately, only democrats themselves (whether in power, in opposition, in civil society, in international organizations, NGOs, or at the ballot box) can answer quo vadis. Until they do, authoritarians will answer it for them.

References

Alves, A.A. (2026, abril 29). Lições de Budapeste. Observador. 

Applebaum, A. (2024). Autocracy, Inc.: The dictators who want to run the world. Doubleday. 

Bremmer, I. (2026, April 8). Viktor Orban will probably lose. What then? GZERO Media. 

Fukuyama, F. (1992). The end of history and the last man. Free Press. 

Grandi, G., & Ramalho, R. (2025, November 23). Bolsonaro diz que queimou tornozeleira por “certa paranoia” e “alucinação”; apoiadores voltam a protestar em frente à PF. Gazeta do Povo. 

Jones, O. (2026, April 23). The international right has CPAC. Has the left finally found its answer? The Guardian. 

Levy, H. (2026, April 14). Peter Magyar wins a landslide victory in the Hungarian general election and ushers in a new era. Robert Schuman Foundation. 

Milačić, F. (2025, November 19). Only liberal nationalism can defeat the far right. Project Syndicate. 

Schroeder, L. (2025, August 5). Bolsonaro pode usar celular e receber visitas? Veja perguntas e respostas. CNN Brasil. 

Svolik, M. W., Avramovska, E., Lutz, J., & Milačić, F. (2023). In Europe, democracy erodes from the right. Journal of Democracy, 34(1), 5–20.

Weisz, Z. (2026, May 1). What Hungary’s new leader really wants. GZERO Media.