Today in the early hours, Budapest’s streets erupted in celebration. Fireworks lit the sky over the Danube as Péter Magyar, the 45-year-old leader of the Tisza Party, declared victory in Hungary’s parliamentary elections.
His centre-right opposition movement had just crushed Viktor Orbán’s Fidesz party, securing a stunning 53.6% of the vote and 138 seats in the 199-seat parliament – a supermajority that will let him rewrite the constitution, dismantle Orbán’s “illiberal democracy,” and unlock frozen EU funds. Orbán, the man who had ruled Hungary for 16 unbroken years, conceded defeat in a terse speech, calling the result “painful but clear.”
European leaders could barely contain their glee. Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission, posted immediately: “Hungary has chosen Europe. Europe has always chosen Hungary. Together, we are stronger.
A country returns to its European path.” French President Emmanuel Macron, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, and NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte were among those who phoned Magyar that night.
For Brussels, it was more than an election result – it was the end of a long nightmare. Orbán had blocked EU sanctions on Russia, vetoed aid to Ukraine, and turned Hungary into the bloc’s internal troublemaker. Now, von der Leyen and others hailed Magyar as the man who would “save Hungary” and bring it back into the European mainstream.
But as the champagne corks popped in Brussels and Budapest, a quieter question echoed in Hungarian pro-government circles and among some international observers: Why has so little been said – especially in Western media – about Péter Magyar’s own troubled past?
Hellbound and Down 