I wrote this opinion piece in the summer of 2025 about the Tisza Party and Hungary’s prospects, based on what I knew at the time. History will show just how far off I was…
This morning on the radio, Stefano Bottoni (an Italian-Hungarian historian, expert on Eastern Europe, and persona non grata) spoke about Fidesz. He said that even he voted for Fidesz in 2014 but later became disillusioned – which honestly made me happy, as it confirmed my thesis that there can be disillusioned Fidesz voters, after all, we don’t know everyone… Still, I genuinely don’t understand why someone has to become disillusioned with a regime just because it’s a dictatorship. According to Plato, democracy isn’t that great either…
Bottoni is now a supporter of MP, and spoke with admiration about the old-school grassroots democracy at work in the so-called Tisza Islands. He described Tisza as the party of mid-level corporate managers – the kind of women who see the world through Excel spreadsheets, send their two kids off to school, rush to the gym, process two corporate orders, and cook dinner – all while running the party just like they manage their work affairs. Until now they weren’t politically active, but suddenly they are. I think I understand why this brings new excitement to their otherwise dull lives, but I won’t elaborate – I don’t want to ruffle feathers. Let’s just say: we shouldn’t get our hopes up too high…
The “Tisza Islands” are a brilliant invention because they’re branded as the “party’s civil base.” This framing creates the impression of autonomous, bottom-up, deliberative communities. Bottoni echoed this narrative when he spoke of grassroots democracy. But the political reality is more complex. Some islanders are indeed active – they meet, brainstorm, and even express opinions – but the real question is not whether they can, but whether it matters.
In reality, the Tisza Islands play a marginal role in the party. And most crucially: the islanders are not members of the party! This means they don’t attend congresses, don’t vote on the party statutes or platform, don’t elect national leaders, don’t participate in candidate selection (at least not directly), have no budget, no veto rights, etc. Essentially, they can do what they like, have no obligations – but also no rights. This might appeal to those who reject the internal rivalries and disciplinary structures of “old parties.” But it also severely limits their political influence: they cannot compel the party to consider their views – they may have a “voice,” but no power. As a result, whatever MP does in the future, they’ll be mere spectators. For the party leadership, this non-membership model has a clear advantage: no internal opposition, no democratic pressure (like what once tore the LMP apart). No “power struggles” – because power is not decentralized.
Let’s be clear: the Tisza Party is the most autocratic political party in Hungary since the regime change. And this isn’t just an opinion – it can be formally deduced from the party’s structure.
The “Islands” are a politically sellable narrative, but they offer no structural guarantee for democracy, accountability, or member influence. Even the state-socialist MSZMP had formal members, party secretaries, and conferences. Tisza’s current model is even more closed. Fidesz at least pretends to have a party chair–vice chair structure (Orbán–Gál–Kósa–Kubatov–Német), MSZP has a national board, LMP has congresses, Momentum implemented leadership rotation. Tisza offers no room for internal debate. The number of official party members is unknown, but reportedly there are only a few dozen. The party was founded solely by Péter Magyar, and has yet to hold a proper party congress (the recent event in Nagykanizsa was not a party congress, but an MLM-style show – as was the previous one), and has not involved his followers in any real decision-making. Leadership renewal, chairman elections? Please! There are two vice presidents (Márk Radnai and Zoltán Tarr), but in essence, this is a one-man centralized political enterprise.
On Válasz Online, Barna Borbás wrote an analysis titled “The Tisza Paradox: Tribalism May Elevate, but Could Doom Péter Magyar’s Movement,” arguing that Tisza is not a real party, not even a movement, but a “political tribe.” True to tribal logic, Tisza operates with rituals (e.g. reciting slogans with raised hands), sacred phrases (e.g. “the Tisza is rising”), drum beats, music, props, and a chieftain in the person of Péter Magyar. The term “political tribe” was coined by Amy Chua (researcher at Yale University). According to Chua, human nature is tribal: people derive happiness from belonging to a group, performing rituals, and participating in shared actions. Borbás argues that Hungary’s first political tribe was Fidesz, from 2006 on – and that Tisza combines the tried-and-true tools of Orbánism with the emotional atmosphere of neo-Protestant church services. (Indeed, these methods are taught in seminary, including the high-pitched style of preaching that MP has adopted – and Zoltán Tarr is a Reformed minister; this is his formal training.)
I, unfortunately, was socialized on Nietzsche during my most impressionable teenage years, and I deeply despise this kind of thing. I’ve always looked on in bewilderment when – otherwise sane – acquaintances of mine got swept away by the collective fervor at a protest. How does that even happen?
Nietzsche doesn’t use the word “tribalism” explicitly – his equivalent is Herdentugend (herd morality), a value system that prioritizes safety, conformity, and shared beliefs over individual excellence, independence, and autonomy. Such a person is collectivist, cowardly, conformist, and rejects the exceptional individual who thinks differently. This kind of person makes virtues out of humility, obedience, and meekness. For Nietzsche, this is a basic psychological posture, which he called slave morality – as opposed to master morality, which draws strength from within rather than by rejecting others. The slave cannot create value independently, is envious of others, and manufactures morality by condemning the independent and exceptional. The slave tribe doesn’t think – it reacts. Its values are always defined in opposition: “We’re not like them!” – oh dear God, how often have we heard that from people who oppose Fidesz?
There’s a vast literature critiquing tribalism (Amy Chua’s book is partly one of them). Tribalism – whether populist or identity-based – is a slippery slope. It tends to lead to internal abuse and the perception of leaders as infallible. Tribal identity inherently requires defining an “Us” and an opposing “Them.” The demand for unity naturally leads to exclusion. Jonathan Haidt, in The Coddling of the American Mind and The Righteous Mind, explains how people in tribal groups become even more radical than they originally were after receiving affirmation from like-minded peers (a phenomenon called group polarization). This reinforcement leads to the belief that “we are always right,” and increasingly intolerance of criticism – even friendly, internal criticism. Eventually, they begin to see their opponents as existential enemies with whom compromise is impossible. Compromise becomes unthinkable: if someone disagrees, they are the enemy threatening their identity and values.
Groups – whether left or right, technocratic or tribal – tend to behave as if they’re on a battlefield: total loyalty inward, total intolerance outward. Pragmatism and critical thinking arouse suspicion: “You hate our tribe – perish!” Borbás is right: from the beginning, Tisza has been a structure prone to exactly what Haidt describes – rejection of compromise, intolerance of criticism, and self-isolating group dynamics – which have, in fact, already happened.
What would Nietzsche say about the Tisza tribe? Probably something like: “These people aren’t looking for freedom, but a leader. They don’t think – they want to believe. This isn’t revolution – it’s a new herd.” And he might cynically add: “The weak-willed man always longs for a new master to whom he can outsource the responsibility of thinking.” And as for our hopes for 2026: “Hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the suffering of man.”*
(*He really said that – original German: “Die Hoffnung ist das schlimmste aller Übel, weil sie die Qual der Menschen verlängert.” Menschliches, Allzumenschliches, Chemnitz, 1878, I. §71 – written on the 100th anniversary of Voltaire’s death.)
Picture: Nietzsche and I doing yoga, the people behind us. Painted by Dalee, 2025.