The first sign things had changed were the rectangular plaques that suddenly appeared on the walls of government offices, army barracks and theatres.
Headed “Statement of National Co-operation,” they informed anyone who cared to look that “a constitutional revolution in the voting booths” had occurred in Hungary, ushering in a “new social contract, that of national consolidation” bringing a new future based on “work, home, family, health, and order.”
Viktor Orban had arrived.
In Hungary, it is impossible to avoid the forceful political footprint of the conservative Prime Minister. He assumed office last year, with one of the largest majorities in European electoral history going to his Fidesz party (a contraction of “Alliance of Young Democrats”) in what he calls the “two-thirds revolution.”
Across Europe, leaders have been reacting with alarm to a man who has used this huge surge of popularity to impose an assertive, intensely nationalistic style of politics.
It marks the latest stage in his startling journey – long-haired, anti-communist libertine in the 1980s; democracy-movement hero in 1989; increasingly conservative leader in the 1990s; and today, a figure likened to Russia's Vladimir Putin and Venezuela's Hugo Chavez as the most authoritarian-styled elected leader in the 27-nation European Union.
The language on the plaques set the tone for what has unfolded in recent weeks, as Mr. Orban assumed the six-month rotating presidency of the European Union and shocked Europe with his outspoken defence of rigid policies.
Most visible was his media law, which places all Hungarian broadcasters and newspapers under the thumb of a watchdog panel of Fidesz supporters with the power to police newspapers' pages for “balance” and fine them or withdraw licences. That law led to furious denunciations in the European Parliament last week, and worries that Hungary was leading a Central European turn to authoritarianism.
“The last time he was in power [1998 to 2002], there were things we strongly disagreed with, but it was all within the framework of democracy. Now, it is not,” said Kinga Goncz, a former Socialist cabinet minister and current member of European Parliament who is possibly Hungary's highest-profile opposition figure.
“The goal this time, in all of this legislation, is stabilizing power – I think that's the only goal he has. All the steps he's taken are only useful in terms of extending his influence and power for years.”
Mr. Orban's Communication Minister, Zoltan Kovacs, said in an interview at the Budapest Parliament that the media law was meant to be a technical matter and that all of its elements could be found in laws of other European nations, such as Germany, which outlaws anti-Semitic language in newspapers.
But when questioned on the motives for imposing the law at such a visible and risky moment, he noted that his party has been angered by the two newspapers loyal to the opposition Socialist Party. Mr. Orban blamed the biases of these papers for his earlier loss of the prime ministership in 2002, after four years in office.
New powers and old grudges
Aside from the media law, Mr. Orban has used his majority – which is large enough to amend the constitution with a single parliamentary vote – to stack even low-level public offices exclusively with Fidesz loyalists.
He also abolished the independent Fiscal Council, which is meant to scrutinize budgets; he confiscated the funds of a private-sector pension system for public employees in order to finance deficit cuts; and, when the Constitutional Court rejected a bill that would have retroactively applied a steep tax to severance pay, he summarily stripped the top court of its power to rule on budget-related legislation.
Most alarming to outsiders, though, has been Mr. Orban's repeated moves to dredge up the darkest ghosts of Hungary's past.
