How Autocrats Endure – Viktor Orban and the Myth of the Self-Destructing Strongman

6 comments
  1. It’s not a myth but it doesn’t work in degenerate serf societies like Russia and Hungary

  2. @ OP

    Error – Article requires subscription.

    Would help the discussion greatly if we would see more than just the tile of what you wanted to share with the subreddit.

  3. 1/2

    The timing could not have been more striking. On April 3, nearly six weeks after Russian President Vladimir Putin’s assault on Ukraine had apparently reinvigorated and reunified the liberal democratic West, Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban was easily reelected to his fourth consecutive term in office, and his fifth in total. Although Orban has long emulated Putin and presides over an increasingly authoritarian regime—and although he faced for the first time a largely united opposition front—he had little trouble winning, drawing more than 53 percent of the vote and securing a continued supermajority in parliament. With the retirement of German Chancellor Angela Merkel, he also now carries the dubious distinction of being the longest-serving head of government in the European Union, a supposed bastion of human rights and democracy.

    The outcome of the election has startled observers in Europe and the United States. In the opening weeks of the war, Orban had notably refused to allow Western weapons to be transported across Hungarian territory and ruled out sanctions on Russian energy. Given the Hungarian leader’s awkward proximity to the Kremlin—Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky has referred to Orban’s Hungary as a “Russian branch in Europe”—and the determination of the Hungarian opposition, many thought that Orban had at last overplayed his hand. Moreover, these predictions dovetailed with growing confidence in the United States and Western Europe that Putin’s regime was finally meeting its long-delayed but preordained fate, undermining itself the way that all autocracies do, sooner or later.

    A belief in the inevitability of autocratic self-destruction was prevalent at the end of the Cold War, and Russia’s so far catastrophic war against Ukraine has revived it. Putin’s miscalculations, so the theory goes, are due at least in part to the Russian leader being cut off from accurate information, with the military and security elite on whom he crucially relies too afraid to present him with the facts on the ground. In short, autocracies are apparently incapable of admitting mistakes and hence unable to learn over time. As a series of influential studies in the 1990s suggested, these regimes also have poorer economic development than their democratic counterparts: arbitrary, politically motivated interference and suppression of information also harm markets. Today, Russia—a country that has notably failed to develop a diversified economy and continues to rely overwhelmingly on the exploitation of natural resources—would appear to confirm this rule as well. In this view, not only has the liberal democratic West united against Putin; Putin himself, through the continual strengthening of the autocratic features of his regime, might turn out to be his own worst enemy.

    But Orban’s decisive victory flies in the face of such comforting illusions. After all, as recently as early February, Western assessments of Russia itself were quite different. Many commentators noted the apparent modernization of the Russian army and Putin’s seemingly clever strategies of accumulating currency reserves and getting partners in the West, including Germany, to go along with nefarious geopolitical projects such as the Nord Stream 2 gas pipeline. Had Putin not ordered his soldiers to invade Ukraine—or had things gone differently in the initial assault—few would have revived the idea that autocracies are bound to fail, just as the Soviet Union did in 1991.

    Indeed, the Hungarian election—the first major vote in Europe since the war in Ukraine began—calls into question any facile assumptions about the limits of autocracy, even within the EU itself. Instead of weakening over time, Orban has carefully crafted a system that is apparently inoculated against democracy and smart enough to survive even in the face of policy blunders. International observers have focused on his government’s successive campaigns against refugees, George Soros, the European Union, and, as of late, the LGBTQ community. (After all, each time Orban faces election he has needed to conjure up a new existential threat to the nation.) But beyond these strategies, which are easy enough for other aspiring autocrats to copy, there is the more complex picture of how Orban, a trained lawyer who surrounds himself with other savvy jurists, has for so long kept up a façade of perfect legality—and even legitimacy—for his rule.

    **A MONSTER MADE IN BRUSSELS**

    The key to Orban’s success has always been what one might call a tactic of redundancy within a larger strategy of incremental but systematic moves toward authoritarianism. Thus, in order to continually constrain the opposition and broaden his power, his Fidesz party pushes on multiple fronts and tries different legal tools at the same time. When one approach fails, the same end might be achieved by an alternative means; when there is resistance—for instance, from the European Union—to a questionable new law, the Hungarian government makes cosmetic adjustments to address the concerns, even as its substance stands and the political facts on the ground that it seeks are established. A prime example was Hungary’s move, back in 2012, to lower the retirement age for judges by eight years, which allowed Orban to get rid of senior jurists who posed a potential check on his regime and to appoint regime-friendly replacements. The EU, which is supposed to be a guardian of the rule of law for its member states, duly found fault with the measure, but although the deposed judges were compensated for their lost years of service they were not reinstated: Fidesz got the compliant jurists it wanted.

    The definition of success, in life in general and in the game of autocracy creation more particularly, is simple: doing more than is necessary. Of course, at the outset, when Orban first came to office, it was hard to predict which strategies would allow Fidesz to achieve a two-thirds majority in parliament in every election and thereby give him almost unlimited power. Once secured, that supermajority allowed Orban to change in the constitution at will; if a court finds fault with a Fidesz law (now extremely unlikely, since the courts are controlled by Fidesz judges), the law can simply be written into the constitution. If you make the law, almost nothing you want to do can be illegal. Orban has thus made efficient use of what the sociologist Kim Lane Scheppele calls “autocratic legalism”: rules and procedures are not openly violated; only their spirit dies a slow death. Seemingly small legal changes can have large systemic effects. Scheppele has also coined a memorable term for this dynamic: the Frankenstate. Just as Frankenstein’s monster was created from normal human parts, many of the individual elements of the Hungarian system look fine; they do not appear repressive in and of themselves. But assembled together in a certain way, they spell the end of democracy.

    To obtain a permanent structural advantage, Fidesz has engaged in laser-sharp gerrymandering throughout the country (while ceding liberal Budapest, the capital, largely to the opposition). To promote Fidesz and its candidates, Orban has used state resources to fund nonstop propaganda around election time (and even at non-election time). He has steadily undermined Hungarian civil society, taking a page from Putin’s playbook by forcing NGOs to register as “foreign-funded” and to undergo special state audits. He has made ad hoc changes in electoral laws to counter the attempts by the opposition to unite effectively, allowing citizens to register anywhere in the country and enabling voter tourism in areas where a Fidesz majority might be threatened. Many observers estimate that a challenger to what has effectively become a one-party state would need to obtain about five percent over and above any Fidesz rival to win an election.

    At the same time, Orban has been careful not to move beyond autocratic legalism into the terrain of more openly coercive authoritarianism that might have prompted EU intervention. Merkel cooperated with Orban for more than a decade, and the European Union, while critical of his government’s authoritarian direction, lavished some $45 billion on the country between 2014 and 2021. Many European observers felt that if there were open anti-Semitism or violence on the streets, such support would cease. (Dog-whistling, including by the prime minster himself, remains acceptable.) But short of that, Brussels was simply unwilling to rein in the Frankenstate.

  4. We are not an authoritarian regime.
    We have problems with healthcare and education, but generally speaking Orbans government does good enough job to earn 54% of the votes.
    Lot of help for familys and young people, higher vages, cheap energy prices, help for small businesses.
    And the alternative is surely worse, we cant get rid of the old, failed politicians in oposition, and the mayority of hungarians dont want that back.
    Untill the oposition parties refresh themselfes, Orban will be the better choice and he will ve reelected again and again.

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