“I’m back,” Viktor Orbán announced on X on September 12, as he returned to political life after a long summer break.

Hungary’s former prime minister wasted little time making his intentions clear. At the annual Kötcse gathering of Fidesz politicians and allies, he delivered what was described as a “fiery speech,” declaring the “grace period for the neo-communists is over,” and that his party was ready to fight. He accused Péter Magyar’s government of overseeing the “recolonisation” of Hungary and claimed Brussels, rather than Hungarian national interests, was driving the country’s direction.

Orbán may have lost power, but he has no intention of disappearing from politics.

And his comeback matters well beyond Hungary.

Voters decisively rejected him at April’s parliamentary election, ending his 16-year tenure and handing Magyar’s Tisza party a two-thirds majority. But the political networks, ideas and relationships cultivated during those years did not disappear with him.

Reform could face a similar situation. Even if it loses an election, that wouldn’t necessarily mean the end of its political influence. Like UKIP before it, Reform could succeed in pulling the mainstream parties towards its positions on issues such as immigration, net zero and taxation, achieving some of its political goals without holding a parliamentary majority.

It also has assets that can survive an electoral setback: a high-profile leadership, extensive media exposure, substantial financial backing and an established institutional presence. With elected representatives across local councils, the London Assembly, the Scottish Parliament and the Welsh Senedd, Reform is already building a political infrastructure that extends beyond any single election. Its reported £72 million in combined donations from billionaires Christopher Harborne and Ben Delo could further help it maintain that infrastructure and its campaigning networks.

In other words, electoral defeat would not necessarily amount to political disappearance. Orbán’s experience shows how a movement can retain influence through networks, ideas, institutions and sympathetic media even after losing power. That is an important part of understanding what Reform’s long-term impact could look like.

Orbánism has travelled

For years, Orbán presented Hungary as a blueprint for what he called an “illiberal” state, built around national sovereignty, traditional family values and hostility towards perceived foreign interference.

His government was criticised by opponents at home and abroad for taking Hungary in an authoritarian direction, but its influence was never confined to Hungary.

Orbán cultivated relationships with politicians, intellectuals, think tanks and media organisations across Europe and the US, and government-backed Hungarian institutions became part of an international conservative network, providing platforms, funding and opportunities for political collaboration.

Hungary became a reference point for politicians seeking to challenge liberal institutions, strengthen national sovereignty and oppose what they portrayed as the influence of Brussels and international organisations.

That network now stretches across Europe, and into Britain’s populist right.

The Reform-Orbán connection

A DeSmog investigation published in April mapped links between Reform figures and Orbán-linked organisations. It found that senior Reform figures had appeared on Orbán-backed platforms and that organisations associated with Reform figures had received funding from institutions connected to the Hungarian government.

One prominent link is James Orr, Reform’s head of policy until his recent resignation following an undercover investigation into Reform’s handling of foreign donations.

Orr is a trustee of the Roger Scruton Legacy Foundation, whose UK board includes figures such as Michael Gove. The foundation has been identified as a recipient of Hungarian-linked funding, with investigations reporting substantial funding from the Orbán-linked Mathias Corvinus Collegium (MCC).

Orr is also UK chairman of the Edmund Burke Foundation, which organises National Conservatism conferences, which are also sponsored and coordinated by the Brussels arm of the MCC. 

NatCon has provided a meeting place for politicians and intellectuals sympathetic to Orbán’s brand of national conservatism.

At its 2024 conference in Brussels, Orbán was the headline political figure, while Orr and Nigel Farage were also on the programme. Suella Braverman, who defected to Farage’s party in January, also spoke at the event. As has Matthew Goodwin, GB News presenter who stood as Reform UK’s candidate for the Gorton and Denton parliamentary by-election. In an interview with Hungary Today earlier this year, Goodwin praised the Orbán model, saying that “Britain can learn from countries like Hungary.”

These connections matter because Orbán’s influence has never depended solely on formal political alliances. Conferences, think tanks, intellectual networks and cultural organisations have helped create a common political narrative and goal across borders.

Patriots for Europe – the far-right gains ground

The pattern is visible across Europe.

Orbán has openly cultivated relations with Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland (AfD). In February 2025, shortly before Germany’s federal election, he met AfD co-leader Alice Weidel and declared that Berlin had been a “city of walls” and that it was time to tear down another one.

The AfD subsequently achieved a landmark result in Saxony-Anhalt’s state election on September 6, winning around 44% of the vote.

In the Czech Republic, billionaire populist Andrej Babiš’s ANO won just under 35% of the vote in the 2025 parliamentary election, taking 80 of the 200 seats. Babiš, who was prime minister from 2017 to 2021, is a founding member of Patriots for Europe, the right-wing populist European Parliament group established by Orbán in 2024.

Following Orban’s election loss in April, the Patriots declared renewed vigour.

“The Patriots Group is more united than before and determined to intensify its efforts, committing to continue and strengthen the political struggle for sovereignty, prosperity, and freedom for all European nations,” they said in a statement.

The group also includes Austria’s Freedom Party (FPÖ), France’s National Rally, Portugal’s Chega and other nationalist parties. With 84 of the European Parliament’s 720 seats, it is the chamber’s third-largest political group. Its chairman is Jordan Bardella, National Rally president, Marine Le Pen’s party that has developed particularly close political ties with Orbán, sharing positions on immigration, national sovereignty and opposition to the EU establishment.

Portugal has also seen the rapid rise of the far-right sovereigntist party, Chega. In the 2025 snap election, the party won 60 seats and 22.8% of the vote, becoming the second-largest party and the largest opposition force. Chega joined Orbán’s European alliance in 2024.

Sweden offers another example of how far-right influence can outlive an electoral setback. After a desperately tight race, voters rejected the prospect of the far-right in government. The Sweden Democrats’ share of the vote fell for the first time since it began as an openly neo-Nazi party in the late 1980s, slipping from second to third place behind the conservative Moderates. It may have lost ground, but the party remains a potent political force, spending years exerting considerable influence over Sweden’s centre-right government from outside the cabinet.

Across Europe, ideas once associated with the political fringe have entered mainstream political debate, particularly around migration, crime, national sovereignty and cultural identity.

Hungary is trying to dismantle the Orbán model

Yet there is, thankfully, counter forces to Orbán’s comeback, providing a glimmer of hope.

While he is attempting to mobilise supporters against Hungary’s new government, his successor, Péter Magyar, is moving in the opposite direction.

His government has promised to reverse parts of Orbán’s legacy and has already begun dismantling parts of the political and institutional infrastructure built during Orbán’s tenure, including replacing Orbán-era appointees and pursuing anti-corruption measures. This week, the government submitted legislation to roll back Orbán-era anti-LGBTQ+ rules and intends to reverse the effective ban on same-sex adoption introduced under the previous government.

And something else to make progressives smile – Orbán’s comeback should not be mistaken for a resurgence in domestic popularity. A Europion poll conducted on September 7 – 8 put Fidesz on just 26 percent, compared with 56 percent for Péter Magyar’s Tisza party. Tisza retains an absolute majority in Budapest, where it has 56 percent support, county-seat cities with 51 percent, voters under 40 with 52 percent and, most notably, university graduates with 62 percent.

The model survives

For Britain, the Orbán story is particularly relevant because his relationship with the British populist right is hardly new.

Farage has been explicit about his admiration, having repeatedly praised Orbán, describing him, in 2018, “the strongest leader in Europe and the EU’s biggest nightmare” and “the future of Europe.”

Since then, the political networks surrounding Orbán and Britain’s populist right have become increasingly interconnected through National Conservatism, MCC-linked organisations, conferences and think tanks.

This is what can be missed when Orbán is treated simply as a Hungarian phenomenon.

His most consequential export may not be a particular policy, but a political model – sovereignty placed above international institutions, liberal elites portrayed as enemies of the people, migration and cultural change framed as existential threats, traditional family values turned into political weapons, and independent institutions presented as obstacles to popular will.

Orbán may be out of power in Hungary. The political ecosystem he helped build is not. It reaches from Budapest to Brussels and Berlin, and, through networks linking the European and British populist right, into Britain too.

Orbán might be physically back but in terms of influence, he never really went away.

Gabrielle Pickard-Whitehead is author of Right-Wing Watch

The post Viktor Orbán is back – how far-right influence can outlive electoral setback appeared first on Left Foot Forward: Leading the UK's progressive debate.

“The first reaction is horror,” is how the left-liberal Der Spiegel described the shocking victory of the Alternative for Germany (AfD) in the recent local elections.

The newspaper pointed to the historical significance of a party that does not draw a clear dividing line from Nazi Germany winning an election by such a large margin more than 80 years after the Nazi dictatorship.

Would Der Spiegel be able to make such a critical assessment if the AfD were in government and had the power to change the law?

The far-right party has long targeted Germany’s established media by undermining its credibility, threatening its funding and becoming a social media superpower to bypass traditional journalists entirely.

“We want to finally pull the plug on this woke, anti-German and manipulative influence,” said Ulrich Siegmund, the party’s parliamentary group co-leader in Saxony-Anhalt, when promising to “terminate” the public broadcasting agreement.

And it’s not just in Germany. Across Europe, right-wing governments have shown how political power can be used to reshape the rules governing the media, weaken independent journalism and make life increasingly difficult for outlets that scrutinise those in power.

And we are already seeing the warning signs here in Britain.

Just last week, Reform UK blocked a Left Foot Forward journalist from attending its party conference, claiming it was “overcapacity” for media applications, despite the party selling additional late-registration media passes for £100.

Other journalists who have investigated Reform were also refused passes, including Michael Crick, Peter Geoghegan, whose conference pass was rejected less than an hour after he published a story revealing how Isabel Oakeshott, the right wing journalist, had privately called Reform mega donor Christopher Harborne “untrustworthy.” The Guardian’s Anna Isaac, who broke the story about Nigel Farage accepting an undeclared £5m gift from crypto billionaire Christopher Harborne, was also refused a pass.

This is the party that routinely presents itself as a defender of free speech while portraying the media as part of an Establishment conspiracy against it.

When attacks become law

Russia provides the bleakest example of what happens when such parties have the power to change the rules governing the media.

Following Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the government introduced laws criminalising what it deemed “knowingly spreading false information” or “discrediting” the military.

The legislation effectively destroyed what remained of Russia’s independent media. Outlets were forced to close or flee the country, while Novaya Gazeta suspended its coverage of the war because of fears the new laws would be used against its journalists.

As Professor Marko Milanovic of the University of Reading wrote: “The freedoms of speech and protest have been dying a long, slow death in Vladimir Putin’s Russia.”

Hungary offers another example.

Viktor Orbán used his parliamentary majority to rewrite the constitution and introduce sweeping media laws. His government took control of public broadcasting while changing the legal and regulatory environment in ways that helped government-friendly oligarchs acquire private media.

Reporters Without Borders estimates that the Orbán government came to control around 80% of Hungary’s media outlets.
The pattern is clear: first, discredit journalists as biased or hostile, then change the laws and institutions governing the media, and finally, use those powers to reshape what the public is allowed to see and hear.

Italy under Giorgia Meloni has also seen concerns over press freedom, including the use of defamation cases against journalists and public figures. Italy has fallen from 41st to 49th in the World Press Freedom Index since Meloni’s party came to power. When the European Commission flagged this in a rule of law report, Meloni accused left-leaning Italian media of twisting its findings. Last summer, the Italian prime minister was caught telling Donald Trump at the White House: “I never want to speak to my press.”

And as for Trump, since returning to office, he has used lawsuits, threats against broadcasters, restrictions on journalists’ access and the power of government agencies to put pressure on media organisations.

Last month, Walt Disney sued the Federal Communications Commission, accusing the Trump administration of launching a “retaliatory campaign” against its ABC television networks over their broadcasts. Trump has repeatedly called for the FCC to revoke ABC’s licences.

Reporters Without Borders has warned that Trump’s administration is not merely attacking journalism rhetorically but reducing the physical and institutional space in which journalists can operate.

“It’s a very basic tactic but a fundamental hit to press freedom,” said Clayton Weimers, executive director of Reporters Without Borders USA. “Just as he wants to control the narrative in print and on the airwaves using government pressure or lawsuits against media outlets, he’s also trying to control the narrative by restricting the press’s access to spaces where crucial decisions are made, avoiding transparency and accountability,”

A politician complaining about an unfavourable coverage is one thing, but when a government changes the law, controls regulators, threatens licences or turns the courts and state institutions against media organisations, the stakes are entirely different.

And what about Reform and its dubious ‘Free Speech Bill’? 

Ahead of the 2024 general election, Reform pledged that a Reform-led government would begin reforming what it described as the “out-of-touch,” “wasteful” and “institutionally biased” BBC within 100 days of the next Parliament.

Its manifesto, rebranded as “our contract with you” rather than a manifesto, promised to scrap the TV licence, which it branded “taxation without representation”. “In a world of on-demand TV,” it declared, “people should be free to choose.”

The party also called for a Free Speech Bill, supposedly designed to protect “personal freedom and democracy,” while promising to legislate against what it described as “left-wing bias and politically correct ideology.” It pledged to put an end to “cancel culture,” “left wing hate mobs” and “political bias in public institutions.”

The contradiction is difficult to miss. Reform presents itself as the defender of free speech while simultaneously proposing to use legislation to combat viewpoints and ideas it considers too left-wing.

In his party conference speech last week, Nigel Farage pledged to eliminate “obstacles” to his plans, declaring he would use a “national emergency” if he wins power. He also threatened to overhaul the House of Lords and how judges are appointed if they stood in the way.

Identifying the judiciary as another potential “obstacle,” Farage promised to remove the judges’ ability to rely on conventions such as the European Convention of Human Rights (ECHR).

“Parliament makes the law, judges interpret the law. We will do whatever it takes, and perhaps have to consider how judicial appointments work in the future,” he said.

The ‘national emergency’ tactic is familiar in Trump’s America, where emergency powers have been used to justify sweeping changes to government and the law. Critics have warned that normalising the language of permanent crisis risks weakening democratic norms and giving governments greater scope to exercise extraordinary powers, including over the media.

“In any emergency-power regime, it’s crucial that the ‘emergency’ trigger be carefully defined and cautiously applied, lest the state of emergency become the new normal,” said David Pozen, a Columbia University law professor. “Yet that seems to be exactly what Trump wants – to govern in perpetual crisis model.”

And warnings about what a Reform government could mean for the free press and the laws governing are are also mounting.

In August, Labour’s Bridget Phillipson accused Reform deputy leader Richard Tice of a “chilling attempt to silence a free press” after he sent a legal threat to the Guardian over its reporting on his financial affairs.

The National Union of Journalists has also condemned Reform’s restrictions on journalists, urging all political parties to “demonstrate their commitment to media freedom and uphold the public’s right to be informed.”

 Even Kemi Badenoch warned that the party’s behaviour could offer a glimpse of how it might govern.

“I think you could … [see] what kind of government they would be – authoritarian and using state power actually to pursue opponents is what they’ve effectively been threatening.

“We believe in free speech. We believe in a free press. And yes, of course, that might be painful for us as politicians, but public scrutiny is part of the gig. If Nigel Farage can’t handle difficult questions about his dodgy £5m then he shouldn’t be a politician.”

Farage’s complaints about the media are hardly convincing when so much of the right-wing press has spent years giving him and Reform a sympathetic platform.

But the victim narrative remains politically useful. Reform can cast itself as an outsider battling a hostile Establishment while simultaneously behaving like a political organisation that wants to control which journalists get access to it.

The crucial issue, however, is not whether Reform dislikes Left Foot Forward, the Guardian or any other publication.

It’s what happens if a party that regards critical journalism as an attack acquires the power to change the laws governing journalism itself.

Russia, Hungary and Trump’s America show why that question matters.

Free speech is not simply the right of politicians to say what they want.

It’s also the right of journalists to scrutinise those politicians, and the ability to do so without governments changing the law to punish them for it.

That is the real test of whether a government believes in a free press. And one Reform should be prepared to answer.

Gabrielle Pickard-Whitehead is author of Right-Wing Watch

The post How right-wing governments change the law to silence the press appeared first on Left Foot Forward: Leading the UK's progressive debate.