
To survive, Orban is plotting a far-right takeover of Brussels
A 'Trump tornado' has swept the globe, bringing with it a wave of 'hope' for a return to 'normalcy and peace.' So declared Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban in a strikingly blunt keynote speech at this year's Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in Budapest.
Originally a platform for United States Republican Party politicians and theorists, CPAC has, in recent years, evolved into a global forum for radical right-wing forces. Its arrival in Europe was facilitated by the Foundation for Fundamental Rights – a government-organised NGO backed and funded by the Orban administration.
While Orban lavished praise on Donald Trump, this year's CPAC had a distinctly European focus. After 15 years in power, Orban faces growing opposition at home. Public frustration over entrenched corruption, economic stagnation and increasingly hostile relations with Hungary's allies has eroded his popularity. A newly emergent opposition movement, led by former Fidesz insider Peter Magyar, is now polling 6 – 8 percentage points ahead of Orban's Fidesz–KDNP coalition, posing a serious challenge ahead of the 2026 general election.
In response, the government has ramped up attacks on dissent. Fidesz recently introduced a series of sweeping legislative proposals that threaten opposition politicians, independent media, NGOs and private businesses with Russian-style crackdowns. June's LGBTQ+ Pride march in Budapest was among the first casualties – banned on the grounds of 'child protection'. Alongside these measures, the government has begun rewriting electoral laws and funnelling state resources towards potential Fidesz voters.
Alarmed by Orban's escalating authoritarianism, 20 European Union member states this week issued a joint declaration urging him to reverse the new measures. They called on the European Commission to deploy the full range of rule-of-law mechanisms should the laws remain in place. Orban's behaviour is no longer just a domestic matter. His confrontational, transactional approach increasingly paralyses EU decision-making – a luxury the continent can ill afford amid intensifying challenges from Russia, China and the second Trump administration. European unity is not merely a motor of prosperity; it is a cornerstone of collective security.
The Article 7 process – a rarely used EU mechanism that can strip a member state of voting rights for violating fundamental values – was triggered by the European Parliament in 2018 due to concerns over judicial independence and media freedom in Hungary. While the European Council has discussed the matter eight times, it has yet to move forward with a vote on sanctions. That may soon change as tensions continue to mount.
CPAC 2025 thus served as a strategic platform for Orban to consolidate and expand a coalition of radical right-wing Central European leaders – particularly those with a realistic shot at gaining or retaining power. His aim: to forge a bloc capable of obstructing any EU efforts to sanction his government, whether by suspending voting rights or slashing financial transfers. The EU is already withholding over 20 billion euros ($23bn) in structural funds from Hungary – a figure that could rise, creating a serious political liability for Orban ahead of the 2026 elections.
Orban's ambition is to entrench support among regional allies – and it is telling that the governments of Bulgaria, Croatia, Italy, Poland, Romania and Slovakia have yet to join the growing list of countries condemning Hungary's recent democratic backsliding. Through CPAC, the Visegrad Group – a longstanding alliance between Hungary, Poland, Slovakia and the Czech Republic — and the 'Patriots for Europe' group – a far-right alliance in the European Parliament launched by Orban and allies in 2024 – the Hungarian leader is laying the foundations for a counterweight bloc designed to frustrate EU countermeasures.
This makes the presence of Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico and Poland's Mateusz Morawiecki – of the Law and Justice (PiS) party – at this week's event especially significant. While neither of their parties belongs to the Patriots group in the European Parliament, they remain political allies with growing mutual dependence.
Orban has developed a near cult-like following on the European far right: he consistently wins elections, offers a ready-made ideological narrative, and has poured resources into building a pan-European coalition. But his greatest limitations are Hungary's small size and his own deepening isolation from the European mainstream. Should far-right parties enter government elsewhere in Europe, they may opt to distance themselves from Orban – as Italy's Giorgia Meloni has already done.
CPAC underscored the scale of Orban's effort to preserve the influence he has worked so hard to build. He cannot take on the EU alone. He needs allies if he is to realise his vision of 'occupying Brussels' and unleashing his own 'tornado' of 'civility' across Europe. The Patriots group, Hungary's Visegrad neighbours and a Trump-led Washington may yet serve as vehicles for that ambition – and for Orban's own political survival.
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
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Al Jazeera
2 days ago
- Al Jazeera
To survive, Orban is plotting a far-right takeover of Brussels
A 'Trump tornado' has swept the globe, bringing with it a wave of 'hope' for a return to 'normalcy and peace.' So declared Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban in a strikingly blunt keynote speech at this year's Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in Budapest. Originally a platform for United States Republican Party politicians and theorists, CPAC has, in recent years, evolved into a global forum for radical right-wing forces. Its arrival in Europe was facilitated by the Foundation for Fundamental Rights – a government-organised NGO backed and funded by the Orban administration. While Orban lavished praise on Donald Trump, this year's CPAC had a distinctly European focus. After 15 years in power, Orban faces growing opposition at home. Public frustration over entrenched corruption, economic stagnation and increasingly hostile relations with Hungary's allies has eroded his popularity. A newly emergent opposition movement, led by former Fidesz insider Peter Magyar, is now polling 6 – 8 percentage points ahead of Orban's Fidesz–KDNP coalition, posing a serious challenge ahead of the 2026 general election. In response, the government has ramped up attacks on dissent. Fidesz recently introduced a series of sweeping legislative proposals that threaten opposition politicians, independent media, NGOs and private businesses with Russian-style crackdowns. June's LGBTQ+ Pride march in Budapest was among the first casualties – banned on the grounds of 'child protection'. Alongside these measures, the government has begun rewriting electoral laws and funnelling state resources towards potential Fidesz voters. Alarmed by Orban's escalating authoritarianism, 20 European Union member states this week issued a joint declaration urging him to reverse the new measures. They called on the European Commission to deploy the full range of rule-of-law mechanisms should the laws remain in place. Orban's behaviour is no longer just a domestic matter. His confrontational, transactional approach increasingly paralyses EU decision-making – a luxury the continent can ill afford amid intensifying challenges from Russia, China and the second Trump administration. European unity is not merely a motor of prosperity; it is a cornerstone of collective security. The Article 7 process – a rarely used EU mechanism that can strip a member state of voting rights for violating fundamental values – was triggered by the European Parliament in 2018 due to concerns over judicial independence and media freedom in Hungary. While the European Council has discussed the matter eight times, it has yet to move forward with a vote on sanctions. That may soon change as tensions continue to mount. CPAC 2025 thus served as a strategic platform for Orban to consolidate and expand a coalition of radical right-wing Central European leaders – particularly those with a realistic shot at gaining or retaining power. His aim: to forge a bloc capable of obstructing any EU efforts to sanction his government, whether by suspending voting rights or slashing financial transfers. The EU is already withholding over 20 billion euros ($23bn) in structural funds from Hungary – a figure that could rise, creating a serious political liability for Orban ahead of the 2026 elections. Orban's ambition is to entrench support among regional allies – and it is telling that the governments of Bulgaria, Croatia, Italy, Poland, Romania and Slovakia have yet to join the growing list of countries condemning Hungary's recent democratic backsliding. Through CPAC, the Visegrad Group – a longstanding alliance between Hungary, Poland, Slovakia and the Czech Republic — and the 'Patriots for Europe' group – a far-right alliance in the European Parliament launched by Orban and allies in 2024 – the Hungarian leader is laying the foundations for a counterweight bloc designed to frustrate EU countermeasures. This makes the presence of Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico and Poland's Mateusz Morawiecki – of the Law and Justice (PiS) party – at this week's event especially significant. While neither of their parties belongs to the Patriots group in the European Parliament, they remain political allies with growing mutual dependence. Orban has developed a near cult-like following on the European far right: he consistently wins elections, offers a ready-made ideological narrative, and has poured resources into building a pan-European coalition. But his greatest limitations are Hungary's small size and his own deepening isolation from the European mainstream. Should far-right parties enter government elsewhere in Europe, they may opt to distance themselves from Orban – as Italy's Giorgia Meloni has already done. CPAC underscored the scale of Orban's effort to preserve the influence he has worked so hard to build. He cannot take on the EU alone. He needs allies if he is to realise his vision of 'occupying Brussels' and unleashing his own 'tornado' of 'civility' across Europe. The Patriots group, Hungary's Visegrad neighbours and a Trump-led Washington may yet serve as vehicles for that ambition – and for Orban's own political survival. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.


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Al Jazeera
20-05-2025
- Al Jazeera
The Nairobi family values conference: When tradition is a colonial trap
Across Africa, debates about cultural preservation and traditional values are increasingly being influenced by forces that promote conservative social agendas rooted in colonial and missionary legacies. These movements, often backed by generous Western funding, seek to impose rigid, exclusionary values that contradict the continent's diverse and historically dynamic cultures. A recent example of this dynamic played out last week in Nairobi, where the second Pan-African Conference on Family Values organised by the Africa Christian Professionals Forum sparked controversy by claiming to defend 'traditional' African family values. The event's foreign supporters, including the Center for Family and Human Rights (C-Fam) and Family Watch International, are known for their opposition to LGBTQ rights, reproductive health, and comprehensive sex education. These organisations, some classified as hate groups by the United States-based Southern Poverty Law Center, often present their positions as inherently African, despite their deep connections to Western conservative funding. This duplicity came to the fore ahead of the conference in Nairobi when it was revealed that the preliminary list of speakers consisted entirely of white men. During the event, participants were urged to 'resist growing trends that seek to redefine marriage, weaken the institution of family, or devalue human sexuality' and to rise up to defend the African family from a 'new colonialism'. Yet the fact is that the narrative of preserving tradition that was on full display at the conference is far from organic. Instead, it itself continues a pattern established during the colonial era, when imperial powers imposed patriarchal norms and strict social hierarchies under the guise of paradoxically both preserving and 'civilising' indigenous cultures. In doing so, missionary and colonial institutions both reimagined and reframed African social structures to align with Victorian ideals, embedding rigid gender roles and heteronormative family models into the social fabric and inventing supposedly ancient and unchanging 'traditions' to support them. The latter were themselves built on self-serving ideas of Africans as 'noble savages', living in happy conformity with supposedly 'natural' values, trapped by petrified 'culture', and undisturbed by the moral questions that plagued their civilised Western counterparts from whose corruption they needed to be protected. As the conference demonstrated, local political actors and governments often support these agendas, either for political expediency or due to genuine alignment with their conservative worldview. There is also support from some quarters of the NGO sector, which gives the movements a veneer of legitimacy while obscuring their colonial roots. The Nairobi conference put the Kenya Red Cross Society (KRCS) in the spotlight when it was accused of endorsing the event by allowing it to be hosted at the Boma Hotel, which it co-owns. Though KRCS has denied any direct involvement in the event, pointing out that it was not involved in the day-to-day decisions of the hotel management, the controversy still highlights the challenges and dangers even well-meaning humanitarian organisations can face. Humanitarian institutions have historically been complicit in the colonial enterprise, and it is perhaps not surprising that they struggle to see through narratives that seek to solidify colonial agendas under the guise of protecting indigenous values. Part of the problem is that there is increasing confusion about what approach needs to be taken to address growing calls to 'decolonise' the activities of the aid industry. One aspect of this process is a recognition of the primacy of indigenous values and local practices of mutual aid. However, when organisations fail to critically examine whether the values coded as indigenous or, in this case, 'African', in reality reflect and embed colonial logics and assumptions about indigenous societies, they may inadvertently find themselves perpetuating harmful agendas. That is why, when faced with narratives such as the ones propagated at the Pan-African Conference on Family Values, it is important to understand the difference between decolonisation and decoloniality. Though related, the two frameworks are distinct. The first largely focuses on transferring power to the formerly colonised, while the latter deals with the logics and values that are the legacy of colonisation. In the aftermath of the 1960s' decolonisation, the failure to address coloniality left many African countries saddled with elites, states, and governance arrangements that upheld colonial frameworks and approaches. Kenya itself was a case in point. In 1967, nearly four years after independence, Masinde Muliro, a prominent Kenyan politician, observed: 'Today we have a black man's Government, and the black man's Government administers exactly the same regulations, rigorously, as the colonial administration used to do.' Similarly, aid organisations focusing solely on empowering local actors could end up reinforcing the deliberate reframing of regressive, colonial-era values as authentic African traditions. Confusing decolonisation for decoloniality risks legitimising harmful ideologies by allowing them to masquerade as cultural preservation. Recognising the historical roots of these supposed traditions is essential, not just for humanitarian agencies but for societies at large. Without this awareness, we risk enabling movements that use tradition as a weapon to oppress, rather than as a tool to heal and unify. The lesson is clear: to genuinely move forward, we must be willing to constantly reflect on how colonial legacies continue to shape contemporary cultural and social norms and debates. Only then can we build a future rooted in genuine, diverse, and inclusive understandings of African identity. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.