For the past fifteen years, Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán has coasted from one election victory to another. Since returning to power in 2010, the self-proclaimed defender of “illiberal democracy” has transformed his country into an “electoral autocracy” – reshaping institutions, rewriting election laws, muzzling independent media, and stacking the courts – where elections are technically free but heavily tilted in his favor, the media landscape is dominated by government allies, and the ruling party – Fidesz – uses the machinery of the state to reward supporters and punish dissent.
All the while, Orbán has proudly cast himself as Europe’s chief populist troublemaker – a pro-Russian crusader against liberalism, immigration, and Brussels bureaucrats, Donald Trump’s man across the Atlantic, and a guy who relishes nothing more than jamming up the European Union’s gears.
His nationalist-populist model inspired imitators and admirers across the West. Where many right-wing populists have flamed out, Orbán has endured, winning elections (four in a row, to be precise) and accumulating more power along the way.
But now, Orbán’s veneer of invincibility is cracking. Suddenly, the world’s most durable populist and Trump’s best friend in Europe looks more vulnerable than ever.
Cracks in the crown
At home, the Hungarian prime minister is facing a newly energized political opposition led by a former protégé-turned-rival named Peter Magyar, who’s managed to do what no other challenger has: unite Hungary’s fragmented anti-Orbán forces. Recent polls show Magyar's center-right Tisza Party holding a commanding double-digit lead over Orbán’s Fidesz among committed voters. Whether or not it’ll hold until the elections in early 2026, that’s no small advantage in a country where the ruling party has rewritten the electoral rules in its favor.
Magyar’s appeal lies in his hybrid message: anti-corruption and pro-transparency, but also nationalist and socially conservative enough to peel away disillusioned Fidesz voters. His rise has upended Orbán’s usual playbook, which relied on a splintered opposition and a monopoly on patriotic rhetoric.
Now, for the first time in years, Orbán is worried, and he’s throwing every goodie he can think of at voters – tax breaks for mothers, higher allowances for families, VAT refunds for retirees, price caps on groceries – in a bid to shore up support and stem Magyar’s rise.
But while these giveaways may buy him some political breathing room, they are also blowing a hole in Hungary’s budget just as the economy is faltering. Growth has been stalled since the end of 2022, the budget deficit is ballooning at 4.9% of GDP, and Orbán’s long-running feud with Brussels means billions in EU recovery funds are likely to remain frozen this year.
Then there’s the Trump factor. Orbán likes to boast about his closeness with the US president. He was the first European leader to endorse Trump in 2016 and again in 2024. But that friendship is becoming less useful.
Unless the EU manages to negotiate a trade deal with Washington, Trump’s punitive new tariffs would hit Hungary’s growth engine especially hard, affecting demand from Europe (particularly Germany) and products ranging from lithium-ion batteries (which make up almost 20% of the country's US exports) to electronic, manufactured goods, and even high-quality wines. Orbán has downplayed the damage, insisting Trump’s tariffs are no big deal – and even floating the fantasy that he could leverage his closeness with Trump to strike his own bilateral deal … despite the tiny issue that EU countries have no capacity to bypass the bloc’s common trade policy.
The White House has also made it clear it’s not inclined to give its pal a pass, especially given the growing suspicion with which defense and trade hawks within the administration view Orbán’s pro-China orientation. In fact, Washington is pushing Budapest to ramp up defense spending to 5% of GDP, buy more weapons and LNG from the US, and distance itself from Beijing at a time when economic conditions are making Hungary more financially dependent on China.
And so, Viktor Orbán is boxed in: squeezed by a surging domestic challenger, trapped by an overextended fiscal policy, cut off from EU funds, and now caught in the undertow of his ally’s protectionist turn in Washington.
Don’t call it a comeback
You might think this spells good news for Europe. Facing his most difficult year since first coming to power, the bloc’s preeminent internal antagonist will have a more limited ability to hijack the EU agenda or undermine European unity on Russia sanctions and Ukraine support in concert with Trump. Sure, if you’re laying odds, it’s still Orbán’s election to lose … but Hungary’s at least in play now. It’s welcome news for Brussels.
Some have gone further, though, pointing to recent centrist electoral wins against right-wing populists with explicitly Trumpian politics in Canada and Australia as evidence of a broader anti-Trump effect being in full swing. If Trump’s disruptive return to the spotlight is causing voters to “rally around the flag” of stability, then perhaps Orbán’s troubles are a sign that Europe is finally sobering up from its populist binge – that the chaos and corruption of his and Trump’s style has worn thin, and European voters are turning back toward sanity and moderation.
But that reading overlooks the fact that the anti-Trump bump isn't holding in Europe. If anything, the tide of right-wing populism on the continent is accelerating.
Take Romania. George Simion, an ultranationalist firebrand with a MAGA streak, is now the favorite to beat Bucharest’s pro-Western centrist mayor, Nicușor Dan, in the May 18 presidential runoff election following the collapse of the country’s pro-EU governing coalition yesterday. Simion outperformed expectations in the first-round vote last Sunday after openly embracing Trump-style politics, railing against the EU, and even welcoming American CPAC chair Matt Schlapp to the campaign trail. He is campaigning alongside Calin Georgescu, another far-right candidate whose first-round presidential election win last November was annulled by Romania’s top court due to likely Russian interference. (A massive online influence campaign tied to the Kremlin seems to have helped Simion, too.)
Across the English Channel, Nigel Farage’s Reform UK party delivered a political gut-punch to the mainstream last Friday, flipping a historically safe Labor parliamentary seat in a by-election and racking up wins in local council elections. The Labor-Tory duopoly that’s dominated British politics for over a century suddenly looks wobbly – and Farage, a leading Brexit advocate and perennial Trump ally, is at the center of the storm.
Even in places where centrists are supposed to be on solid ground, the far right is gaining. In Poland, the ruling Law and Justice party is leaning into its Trump ties to boost its presidential hopeful, Karol Nawrocki. Recent polling shows Nawrocki closing in on centrist opponent Rafał Trzaskowski ahead of elections on May 18. He flew to Washington last week to meet with Trump-affiliated figures, hoping to ride the same anti-establishment wave to victory.
Meanwhile, in Germany, center-right leader Friedrich Merz squeaked into the chancellorship on a second vote after an embarrassing initial flop yesterday. With the hard-right, MAGA-endorsed Alternative für Deutschland continuing to rise, the conservative chancellor once viewed as the establishment’s answer to the populist surge now leads a wounded and weakened “grand coalition” that feels anything but grand.
All of which is to say: Orbán may be stumbling, but his current woes are less a sign of waning populism or an anti-Trump backlash across Europe than a story of one populist’s bad bets coming due. We could be entering a world where Budapest becomes less of a thorn in Brussels’ side than before. But if European centrists think that’ll be the end of their troubles, they’re in for a rude awakening. Far-right European populism is not going anywhere.
