Once upon a time, if ever there was such a time, there was a small country in the middle of Europe, with a beautiful, large lake. On the lake’s northern hilly shore stood a house, with two brothers living in it. The older one lived on the ground floor, the younger upstairs, on the first floor. There was no conflict between them until the winds of an election arrived in 2026.
The younger brother felt that the time for change had come. He supported someone who promised something different and a change from the corruption-ridden country. So, he put up a banner on his balcony: “Now or never.” This reflected the general feeling among so many voters.
The older brother living on the lower floor saw the world from a different angle. He supported the existing order, the political community that had governed for a decade and a half. He did not like loud declarations and open statements. So, he hung up another banner: “I apologize for this.” It was not an attack, but rather an embarrassed attempt at justification.
After a photo of the house’s façade went viral, both siblings received support: new and larger banners appeared on each side. The building became a political tableau, with two opposing worlds divided by a single stairwell. In recent weeks, the Balatonfüred house turned into one of Hungary’s most shared images, a “poster war” in which many recognized echoes of their own family, workplace, or community disputes.
The Moral of a Folk Tale
Read as a folk tale, the story is not about the brothers, but about the country: how politics in Hungary now enters our homes, balconies, and neighbors’ walls.
This upcoming election in Hungary is different from the previous ones. After 16 years of illiberal governance led by Viktor Orbán, a new challenger, Péter Magyar, has emerged not from outside the system, but from within it. Conservative, a lawyer, familiar with the illiberal state, its language, and how it functions. This alone changes the rules of the political game.
In earlier campaigns from 2010, the illiberal offer was relatively simple and attractive. For many, it was familiar: “If you don’t engage in politics, we’ll leave you alone, and in return you can live relatively well.” This offer closely resembled the quiet bargain of the post-1956 Kádár era. It did not promise freedom, but security and privacy.
The Breakdown of the Illiberal Bargain
By now, this bargain has begun to falter. Hungary has thereby slid back among the poorest countries of the European Union, along with the EU's highest inflation rate, driven by the highest VAT rates. The economic model on which it was built on EU funds, domestic taxpayers’ money, German car factories requiring low levels of innovation, and Chinese battery production has fundamentally reshaped society. It has increased inequalities while making the future unpredictable for many.
According to ELTE’s latest report on social stratification, the structure of Hungarian society has shifted significantly in the past 4 years. Whereas earlier the proportions of the upper, upper-middle, lower-middle, and lower classes were roughly 9–24–36–31 percent, today they are 5–14–38–43 percent. In other words, the upper and middle classes have shrunk, while the lower social strata have grown.
After 1989, the neoliberal transformation in Hungary generated widespread disillusionment, especially among women, as promises of Western-level living standards went unmet and unpaid care work lost both recognition and institutional support, such as accessible childcare. The EU gender equality mechanisms did not bring any tangible change either. The illiberal turn after 2010 capitalized on this frustration by revaluing motherhood and familial care as socially meaningful labor, contributing to Orbán’s strong support among women voters. While framed as recognition, family policy increasingly replaced welfare provision with consumption-based tools, such as tax benefits and subsidized credit. Persistent underinvestment in social infrastructure has since deepened inequalities, producing a state that effectively serves privileged groups while failing those most reliant on public services. The basis of the illiberal political offer: security and trust are broken. And Hungary is before a crucial election.
The House as the Country
The house in Balatonfüred became a metaphor for the country: not divided by enemies, but by siblings. They share walls and a staircase, yet imagine different futures. The banners are more than political messages: they are cries of fear, hope, and the need to be heard.
The real stake of the election may be whether we can speak to one another again in this shared space, and whether change can be discussed without tearing the house apart. Folk tales offer no clear answers, but they remind us that the characters remain after the story ends. After 12 April, the question is whether the brothers learn to live together—or continue speaking only through banners.
by Professor Andrea Peto at Central European University (CEU)
About the author
Andrea Peto is a Professor in the Department of Gender Studies at Central European University and a Doctor of Science of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences.