What’s so illiberal about “illiberal democracy”?

On July 26, 2014, Viktor Orbán gave the most famous speech ever delivered at a Transylvanian summer camp. The Hungarian prime minister’s remarks covered a wide range of subjects, from the 2008 financial crisis to the trajectory of post-Soviet Central and Eastern Europe, but the speech is best remembered for a single phrase, “illiberal democracy”, that has since been repeated ad nauseam. To critics, this was Orbán’s open declaration of war against the liberal ideals at the heart of the Western political project. Orbán’s admirers, however, saw a leader willing to attack 21st century progressivism head-on. 

Over a decade later, the wily prime minister faces a stagnant economy, a young and energetic challenger, and an electorate grown weary of conservative rule. The April 12 parliamentary elections may spell the end of a 16 year stretch of political dominance by Orbán and his Fidesz Party, but even a decisive loss will not destroy the Hungarian prime minister’s political legacy. For the foreseeable future, European politics will be shaped by Orbán’s signature preoccupations. 

Before reviewing Orbán’s lengthy record, it’s worth considering what the prime minister actually said in 2014. The much repeated comment about building an “illiberal democracy” is often interpreted to mean a direct assault on liberal norms like freedom of speech, assembly, and religion. A closer look at the speech reveals a different message. “Illiberal democracy”, in Orbán’s formulation, “. . . does not reject the fundamental principles of liberalism such as freedom, and I could list a few more, but it does not make this ideology the central element of state organisation, but instead includes a different, special, national approach.” 

In other words, Orbán was using liberalism as a stand-in for left-wing progressivism, similarly to how Republicans use words like “liberal” and “liberalism” in American politics. This is helpful to remember when assessing the Hungarian prime minister’s track record. Even his rhetoric is less radical than it seems.

As for Orbán’s policies, one can’t help but notice that the Hungarian prime minister’s signature issues have slowly but surely migrated to the European mainstream. Ideas once considered eccentric or unacceptable have become centre-right conventional wisdom, often in response to conditions that Orbán anticipated. By associating Orbán’s policies with a fever dream of Hungarian “illiberal democracy,” the European left tried to rule these ideas categorically out of bounds. The past few years have shown the folly of this approach.  

Start with border control. In the midst of the 2015 migration crisis, Orbán was a lonely but outspoken critic of Europe’s pro-immigration consensus. It’s easy to forget that Angela Merkel, now persona non grata to European conservatives, was actually the leader of the center-right Christian Democrats when she famously declared “Wir schaffen das” and opened Germany’s borders. Characterising Orbán as a threat to fundamental liberal values was an easy way to discredit the inchoate but powerful tide of anti-immigration feeling the Hungarian prime minister tapped into. 

Today, Merkel’s optimistic attitude on immigration and assimilation is almost extinct on the European right. Her technocratic successor, Friedrich Merz, has declared that migration has made people feel unsafe in public spaces and pledged to step up deportations and border enforcement. A restrictive new EU Pact on Migration and Enforcement goes into effect in early June. Even many left wing parties are adjusting to the realities of public opinion. Great Britain’s Labour Party has developed a sudden interest in Denmark’s tight approach to border control.  

When disembarking at Ferenc Liszt International Airport in Budapest, visitors are immediately greeted with the multilingual declaration that Hungary is a “family friendly” country. In the mid-2010s, this forthright concern with fertility rates was a curiosity in European politics, a strange outgrowth of Orbán’s unwillingness to accept immigrants and Hungary’s national fixation on preserving its distinct language and culture. Today, concerns over declining fertility, the sustainability of aging welfare states, and immigration scepticism have made pro-natalism a thoroughly mainstream issue. Ironically, the Hungarian birth rate has stalled just as Orban’s ideas about family formation have gone mainstream, but the larger trends that gave rise to pro-natalist politics aren’t going anywhere. 

Orbán’s cynical approach to the war in Ukraine is harder to defend than his domestic policy agenda. Hungary continues to purchase Russian oil and gas, opposes stepped-up sanctions, and has repeatedly urged Ukraine to seek peace on unfavourable terms. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has become a hate figure on the Hungarian right, a fixture of pro-Fidesz propaganda and one of the favourite villains of Orbán’s reelection campaign. Some of this can be explained by the idiosyncrasies of Hungarian domestic politics: Southwestern Ukraine is home to a vocal Hungarian minority that sees Budapest as its patron and Hungarian consumers depend on Russian oil and gas to heat their homes and fill up their cars.

However, a desire for rapprochement with Russia is not exactly unknown in wider European politics. In Germany, the insurgent Alternative für Deutschland party is vocally opposed to continued support for Ukraine. Belgian Prime Minister Bart De Weber sounded positively Orban-esque when he recently said, “We must normalise relations with Russia and regain access to cheap energy. That is common sense.”

The trickiest part of the Orbán package to assess is his respect for “the fundamental principles of liberalism,” which he claimed in 2014 would be safe under his new political model. Critics often argue that Orbán is an autocrat in all but name. This is a hard pill to swallow when his party is on the verge of losing the upcoming Parliamentary elections. The truth is that Orbán is a skilled practitioner of political hardball, willing to aggressively bend the rules to advance his agenda. Fidesz’s capture of public media is an openly-acknowledged fact of life in Hungary, where state TV and radio programs usually toe the government line. But the internet and social media are free and open, foreign and independent media outlets continue to operate, and the opposition has had no problem getting its message out during campaign season. 

Moreover, it’s not clear that Orbán’s lack of regard for small-l liberal proceduralism is categorically worse than, say, Britain’s habit of locking up people for offensive social media posts or Canada’s debanking of nearly 300 truckers for participating in anti-lockdown protests in 2022. Orbán is clearly willing to use state organs to amplify his message, a tactic that has made Hungarians cynical about official media and almost certainly helped Fidesz pad its vote totals in past elections. But compared to the routine gerrymandering in American politics or other European countries’ willingness to suppress disfavoured speech, Hungary’s deviations from liberal proceduralism look like less of an outlier. 

Over a decade after his famous “illiberal democracy” speech, the Orbán era has reached an inflection point. Voters are fed up with a stagnant economy and official corruption. According to the latest polls, Fidesz trails the opposition Tisza Party by a considerable margin. If Orban vindicates his critics and clings to power after losing an election, young Hungarians will flee in droves, Hungary will likely be evicted from the EU, and the country will become a continental pariah, akin to Serbia or even Belarus. Many on the left would surely relish this outcome, which would have the added benefit of discrediting policies that are closely associated with the Orbán era, such as immigration restrictionism. 

Orbán single-handedly upended this stale consensus

However, if Orbán mounts a late comeback or concedes power gracefully, his legacy in European politics will almost certainly endure. Over a decade ago, Orbán’s unapologetic nationalism, his alarm over falling birthrates, and his opposition to mass migration were notable outliers in European politics. Not because these ideas were unreasonable or foolish, but because they were out of step with the liberal consensus of the continent’s governing class. Orbán single-handedly upended this stale consensus, becoming a political hero to the populist right in the process. Not bad for the prime minister of a small Eastern European country who announced his ideological challenge from an obscure Transylvanian summer camp.