Watching Hungary turn, from the outside looking in
On election night, as Péter Magyar’s Tisza Party painted the nation blue, foreign residents in Szeged watched the euphoria unfold, with a note of cautious optimism
A little after 9 pm on election night, the heart-pounding day of the Hungarian parliamentary elections, I was making my way to Grand Café, where a group of us had planned to wait out the long hours of vote counting. One friend had already secured what felt like prime real estate — a table angled perfectly toward a television screen. Premium seating for what was shaping up to be a premium moment. On the walk over, the city appeared to be making the right kind of noises. Through the glass facades of pub and restaurant windows, one could see crowds clustered around glowing television screens, tuning into the early numbers as they began to trickle in. A ripple of cheers broke out here and there, not sustained, not certain yet, but just enough to suggest the night might be heading somewhere unprecedented.
By the time I reached Grand Café, that uncertainty had given way to something more assured. Viktor Orbán — the now former prime minister and leader of the erstwhile ruling Fidesz party — was on screen, midway through his concession speech less than three hours after polls had closed. And the first round of toasts had already begun. Around us, maps and graphs filled in rapidly with constituencies turning, percentages climbing, and the visual language of the elections settling decisively into one color — Péter Magyar’s blue.
Grand Café, usually unhurried, almost subdued even on weekends, was filling up faster than it was accustomed to handling. The screening room was packed, the bar a wall of people too, with bartenders moving at a pace the place rarely demands. For once, there was no quiet corner to retreat to, no empty table waiting to be claimed. Even as the windows remained tightly shut on a still chilly April night, faint bursts of cheer from outside slipped through the noise inside. The mood had shifted, subtly at first and then all at once. And, increasingly, it felt like the country had too.
Beyond those walls, the scale of what was unfolding became more apparent by the minute. Things weren’t ambiguous any longer — sixteen years of uninterrupted rule by Fidesz was coming to an end. Live footage from Budapest showed massive crowds moving toward the Parliament, a sea of people gathering beneath its illuminated facade, one of Europe’s most striking buildings and the crown jewel of Budapest’s skyline. A building long associated with a very different political mood, almost as if offsetting its grandeur. But that night there was no such dissonance. The splendor of the setting finally seemed to match the energy of the moment.
When I first moved to Hungary two years ago, the details of its politics felt distant. Important certainly, but not mine to engage with. That distance didn’t last. The dizzying rise in prices, the barrage of headlines and conversations about rampant corruption, and persistent gaps in administration and bureaucracy — national politics had crept into everyday life slowly but surely. By that night, it no longer felt possible to remain a detached observer. In barely two years, I, like many other foreign residents, whether newly arrived or long settled, had begun to feel the weight of the government’s failings.
Around the table, reactions were beginning to take shape. After all, seismic political shifts like this are ultimately about what might change in the everyday lives of those who live here. For foreign nationals especially, the election felt immediately relevant, more so in the light of the recent changes introduced by the Orbán-led Fidesz administration. Krisz Herbert, literary translator, originally from the United States and currently pursuing her PhD in Modern Hungarian Literature from the University of Szeged, has had her own share of residency hassles triggered by these sudden changes. “The ability to stay in the country has become uncertain for many internationals after standard work visas were repealed last January,” she said. “I feel a shift in the public rhetoric about immigration and race would improve the experience of people like us living here long or short-term. I really hope that standard work visas are reinstated so that it’s possible for me to continue living here.”
Economic concerns surfaced just as quickly. Laurie Tolson Zsom, an English teacher and prep chef, also from the United States, pointed to taxation and cost of living as pressing issues. “I’m hoping for a better income tax situation between Hungary and the US, which has become a huge issue over the last couple of years,” she said, referring to the growing complications around cross-border taxation in recent years. “And a wage increase would be wonderful.” Her optimism, however, came with caution. “I’m hopeful regarding Magyar’s promise of a better working relationship with the EU, but also nervous about his right-leaning attitude toward immigration and foreign workers. It has to be better than the current administration, it just has to be.” She also noted how little state support had kept pace with reality. “The monthly child welfare payment hasn’t meaningfully increased in the 16 years that we’ve lived here. It’s still at HUF 13,300, which has to change. It’s ridiculous.”
For Osaid Haider, a 26-year-old finance professional from Pakistan, who moved to Szeged as a business student in 2021, the election was about the kind of country Hungary could become for those building a life here. He said, “Hungary’s economic, social and political environment impacts everyone. I feel these results are an opportunity to make the country better, safer, and more inclusive. As a tax-paying foreign professional living here, I would like to see better affordability, a more inclusive society, and clearer, more accessible legal immigration pathways aligned with EU norms.”
Beyond individual concerns, the conversation also turned to institutions and what this shift could mean for those in their fold. Traci Alicia Speed, who teaches Bulgarian at the University of Szeged, hopes for renewed support for educational institutions. She said, “It may not affect me much personally, but I hope our university, and especially our students, benefit from greater support.” She also sees the result as carrying weight beyond Hungary’s borders. “I really hope the change of government will send a positive message to other countries that have been heading in this direction,” she said.
Echoing the concern about support for academic institutions, Herbert stressed on the need for deeper structural change. “I really hope to see cultural and higher education institutions gain more autonomy and transparent funding that scholars and artists can access fairly. As an academic and literary translator, I have seen how much of a constant struggle this has been.” Her expectations extend beyond academia. “I also hope that the laws severely restricting the rights of people in the LGBTQ+ community will be repealed,” she added.
Across these voices, the common threads were clear — stability, affordability, transparency, and a recalibration of Hungary’s place within the EU. But that night, the room carried emotion more than anything else. Laurie described colleagues, friends, even her family doctor “beaming” at the election results. “No matter the age, almost everyone is thrilled,” she said. For her, the moment carried something more personal too. “My younger son voted for the first time. It was wonderful to see him be part of this new generation of change.” Herbert added, “It’s an amazing experience to see the euphoria of locals. After years of watching friends and fellow academics struggle, it feels almost unbelievable. There’s a real collective sense of relief, joy, and hope for a new future.”
As the clock ticked past midnight, the victory chants outside had grown louder. We stepped out of Grand Café and made our way toward Móra Ferenc Museum, where the streets had filled with people, with flags raised, voices rising in unison, and clusters of youngsters spilling across the square and the grand museum steps in celebration. It felt surreal to witness a moment like this in Hungary’s recent history, as the curtain came down on 16 years of uninterrupted rule. The euphoria was unmistakable, even as there lingered a note of cautious optimism. Because euphoria is the easiest part of an election night. The hard part comes after, when the ordinary days return, and policies are weighed against promises. How this shift holds, beyond the night and beyond the numbers, will play out over time. For now, Hungary is having its moment — what follows will shape what it becomes.
For local perspectives, read our coverage of how Szeged residents reacted to the election results.
Featured image: Election night in downtown Szeged. Photo by the author.
