The winner takes all—a principle now turned against its architects.
In Budapest, a new parliamentary majority has turned the instruments of power against those who built them. Three months after Péter Magyar's Tisza party ended Viktor Orbán's sixteen-year grip on Hungary, parliament voted to remove Orbán's loyalist president using the same constitutional supermajority Fidesz once wielded to entrench itself. It is a moment that raises ancient questions about whether power can be dismantled by the very tools used to construct it — and whether justice and irony, in politics, are ever truly distinguishable.
- Hungary's new Tisza government moved swiftly and without hesitation, using a two-thirds majority to pass its 17th constitutional amendment just three months after its landslide April victory.
- President Sulyok now faces an impossible triangle: sign away his office, refer the matter to a court and trigger immediate impeachment, or resign quietly at the government's urging.
- The deeper disruption runs through the entire Fidesz apparatus — the Constitutional Court head faces removal, term limits threaten to disqualify more than half of Fidesz's sitting deputies, and the party's number two resigned the same day.
- Orbán himself was conspicuously absent, watching the World Cup in the United States rather than taking his parliamentary seat, fueling resentment among the ruins of his movement.
- Legal voices are divided: a former Supreme Court head endorses the removal while objecting to term-limit provisions, and Fidesz accuses Tisza of building the very tyranny it claimed to oppose.
- Hungary now navigates a fragile passage — dismantling sixteen years of institutional capture while racing to write a new constitution within two to three years, with no guarantee the tools of authoritarianism won't outlast those who wielded them.
On Monday, Hungary's parliament voted to remove President Tamás Sulyok — a figure long identified with Viktor Orbán's political machine — just three months after Péter Magyar's Tisza party won a stunning landslide in April. With 141 deputies rising in applause, the new government deployed its two-thirds majority to pass the 17th constitutional amendment, which would also remove the head of the Constitutional Court. The message was unmistakable: the new order had arrived.
Sulyok's options are grim. He has five days to sign the amendment ending his presidency, refer it to the Constitutional Court — which would trigger impeachment proceedings and automatic suspension — or resign, the path the government has been quietly encouraging. There is no comfortable exit.
The irony is difficult to ignore. The 2011 constitution Orbán's government wrote was designed to make power self-perpetuating, filling independent institutions with loyalists and using supermajority rule to cement control. For sixteen years it worked. Now Tisza is using those same mechanisms in reverse. András Baka, the former head of Hungary's Supreme Court, told the BBC he supported Sulyok's removal, describing the Fidesz era as a systematic capture of the state — one extraordinarily difficult to undo.
The amendment reaches further than the presidency. It removes Constitutional Court judges over seventy, and bars deputies who have served three terms from running again — a provision that would disqualify more than half of current Fidesz members. Baka objected to this last element, arguing it infringes on voters' rights. Fidesz deputies walked out before the vote, calling Tisza's moves tyrannical. Former opposition presidential candidate Péter Rona offered a cooler verdict: Fidesz, he said, had simply fallen foul of its own concept of power.
Orbán, meanwhile, was absent — watching the World Cup in the United States, refusing his parliamentary seat. His disappearance has bred bitterness within Fidesz, compounded by the resignation of party number two Gergely Gulyás as head of the parliamentary group on the same day. Hungary now faces the harder question that follows every political rupture: whether dismantling the machinery of authoritarianism is possible without becoming, in some measure, its mirror.
On Monday, Hungary's parliament voted to remove President Tamás Sulyok from office—a man long understood to be a political creature of Viktor Orbán, the former prime minister who had governed the country for sixteen years before his stunning defeat in April. The vote was swift and decisive. Péter Magyar's Tisza party, riding the momentum of an unexpected landslide victory just three months earlier, wielded its two-thirds parliamentary majority to push through the 17th constitutional amendment. The measure would also remove Péter Polt, the head of the Constitutional Court, another figure seen as aligned with the old regime. When the results were announced, 141 Tisza deputies rose in unison, applauding.
Sulyok now faces a choice with no good outcome. He has five days to sign the amendment that would end his presidency, or he can refer it to the Constitutional Court. But if he chooses the court, Magyar has already promised to launch impeachment proceedings against him—a move that would automatically suspend him from office. The third path, which the new government has been quietly urging, is resignation. Resign now, they suggest, and spare the country a constitutional crisis.
The irony is sharp enough to cut. The 2011 constitution that Orbán's government wrote enshrined a principle that would come to haunt them: the winner takes all. For sixteen years, from 2010 until this year, Fidesz reshaped Hungarian state institutions according to its own design, filling supposedly independent positions with party loyalists and using that same two-thirds majority to entrench its power. Now the tables have turned, and the new government is using the very tools Fidesz had forged. András Baka, the former head of Hungary's Supreme Court, told the BBC he agreed with Sulyok's removal. Hungary had been governed by the rule of law from 1989 to 2010, he said. After that, Fidesz captured the state and built an authoritarian apparatus designed to survive even electoral defeat. Breaking such a system, he noted, is extraordinarily difficult.
The amendment is not merely about the presidency. It is a package of measures intended to guide the country until a new constitution can be written within two or three years. It also removes Constitutional Court judges over seventy and bars deputies who have served three terms from running again—a provision that would disqualify more than half of the current Fidesz parliamentary members. Baka objected to this last part, arguing it restricts the public's right to vote for whom they wish.
Fidesz deputies walked out of parliament before the vote, accusing Tisza of building tyranny. They argue the amendment grants the government arbitrary power to dismiss any public official immediately. But Péter Rona, a former opposition presidential candidate, saw the situation differently. "The great irony," he told the BBC, "is that Fidesz have fallen foul of their own concept of power."
Meanwhile, Orbán himself has largely vanished from public view. He refused to take his seat in parliament and spent Monday watching the World Cup finals in the United States. His absence has bred resentment within what remains of his party. Gergely Gulyás, the number two in Fidesz, resigned as head of the parliamentary group on the same day, adding another wound to a party already reeling from shock. The question now is whether Sulyok will sign his own political death warrant, fight in court and face suspension, or step aside—and what comes next as Hungary attempts to dismantle the institutional machinery of authoritarianism.
Citas Notables
The great irony of the situation is that Fidesz have fallen foul of their own concept of power.— Péter Rona, former opposition presidential candidate
It is now very difficult to break up a sophisticated authoritarian regime which was designed to survive even after electoral defeat.— András Baka, former head of Hungary's Supreme Court
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does it matter that Sulyok is an Orbán loyalist, specifically? Couldn't the new government just say they want a president they trust?
Because it's not about trust—it's about legitimacy. Sulyok was elected president under the old constitution, by the old parliament. Removing him by amendment says the new government can rewrite the rules retroactively to erase the previous regime's people. That's the same move Orbán made.
But Orbán did it first, didn't he? He filled the courts and presidency with his people.
Yes, exactly. He built the machine. Now Magyar is using that same machine against him. The difference is that Orbán had sixteen years to entrench himself. Magyar has to move fast, before Fidesz can regroup or before international observers start asking uncomfortable questions.
What happens if Sulyok refuses to sign and refuses to resign?
Then he gets suspended automatically through impeachment, and the government appoints a replacement. Either way, he's gone. The only real choice is how much damage the process does to Hungary's democratic image.
Is there any chance this backfires on Magyar?
Absolutely. If he's seen as doing exactly what Orbán did—using power to eliminate opponents—then he becomes the new tyrant. The constitution rewrite in two or three years will be crucial. If it genuinely limits executive power, he might be remembered as a reformer. If it just shifts power to a new strongman, this was just a coup dressed up as justice.
What about the rule against three-term deputies running again?
That's the most troubling part, honestly. It sounds like reform, but it's also revenge. It bars more than half of Fidesz from ever running again. Even Baka, who supports removing Sulyok, said that crosses a line—it denies voters the right to choose their representatives.