European Politics editor Drakoulis Goudis argues that Viktor Orbán’s demise is a turning point for Europe against authoritarian forces - but questions still remain over whether his replacement will transform or merely tinker around the edges of the remnants of Hungary’s democracy.

Amidst an almost unbroken streak of worrying and at times outright catastrophic electoral trends for liberal democracy, the rule of law, and basic common sense, last month stood out as one of genuine celebration. After sixteen suffocating years, Viktor Orbán’s reign in Hungary has come crashing down in a resounding electoral wipeout.

The aftershocks of this political earthquake will be wildly disproportionate to Hungary’s size or global weight. The repugnant, odious Viktor Orbán was not just another reactionary strongman; he was the archetype of the modern illiberal regime entrenched within the European Union itself.

His Hungary became a laboratory for state capture, a grotesque showcase of how to hollow out democratic institutions while maintaining a thin veneer of legitimacy. He was the enabler-in-chief of Europe’s far-right ecosystem, lubricating it with think-tank networks, financing it with Russian and American money funneled through the captured state machinery, and sustaining it through patronage.

Within the EU, he often functioned as a saboteur – at times indistinguishable from a Russian asset, in ways even his fiercest critics would not have imagined before last week’s revelations. With Orbán’s downfall, war criminal Vladimir Putin loses his most loyal proxy in Brussels. If Robert Fico aspires to fill those shoes, he might consider negotiating a raise.

The regime that once seemed untouchable

Across the Atlantic, the remnants of the Epstein regime once again managed to humiliate itself, despite its transparent and desperate attempt to prop up its fellow criminals. Meanwhile, Georgian Dream – the increasingly brazen, authoritarian gang which has captured Georgia – has lost a crucial shield against EU scrutiny and sanctions targeting its pro-Russian oligarchy.

Across Europe, bigotry and far-right ideology suffer a symbolic defeat of enormous magnitude. This supposedly impregnable fortress – the poster child of illiberalism, the “model state” of authoritarian capture within the EU, the first to systematise scapegoating and wage sustained attacks on LGBT people, women’s rights, and any vulnerable group within reach – has collapsed.

The regime that once seemed untouchable has finally been flushed away. This is, above all, a victory for Hungarian society’s most resilient forces: for the youth, for Budapest, for the educated and outward-looking segments of the population, and for all those who endured more than a decade of systemic degradation.

A regime that empowered the most unsavoury parts of society while enriching itself with shameless, almost caricatural greed, in the grand tradition of far-right kleptocracies, has collapsed. But none of this means the battle is over. Hungary’s return to something resembling normality will be long, painful, and uncertain.

Will the real Péter Magyar please stand up?

Sixteen years of Fidesz rule enabled the cancer to metastasize through every organ of the state: the presidency, the judiciary, the constitution, the electoral machinery, state-owned enterprises, the oligarchic networks, and the local power structures. The scars are everywhere, and healing from them will require time, precision, and political courage.

The victorious Tisza movement, led by Péter Magyar, now holds the instruments for this delicate, high-risk surgery. Yet, serious questions remain about their intent and their true ideology - about whether this will be a genuine rupture or merely a change of tone. Magyar is no outsider; he is a product of the very system he now claims to dismantle. A conservative, and by no means a transformative or committed federalist.

Will he burn the corrupted playbook, or simply edit its margins into something more palatable abroad? Those questions belong to tomorrow, however. Today is for something far rarer in recent European politics: relief, vindication, and a sense – however fragile – that the tide can still turn.

Hungary has stepped back from the abyss. Its people can finally hope that the kleptocratic machine that drained their country might now begin to unravel. And Europe – Ukraine included – has seen a chronic obstruction removed, clearing the path forward and stripping away yet another excuse for paralysis. For once, the illiberal script has been torn apart. And that alone is worth celebrating.