Could Tibor Navracsics and Orsolya Ferencz’s political manoeuvring actually be a sign that they want no part in Fidesz’s unlikely alliance with Mi Hazánk?
The relationship between Fidesz and Mi Hazánk has long been shaped primarily by tactical considerations. Anyone who has followed Hungarian politics with their eyes and ears open in recent years will have noticed Fidesz’s shift towards the right. On several occasions, the governing party even managed to outflank Jobbik from the right, back when Jobbik was still a parliamentary force.
At the same time, Mi Hazánk has been cautiously attempting to move away from some of its most radical themes and present itself as a more established political force.
Then came the catastrophic election defeat suffered by the former governing parties on 12 April, which completely redrew Hungary’s political map.
Mi Hazánk comfortably remained in Parliament, while the two former governing parties moved into opposition and Tisza was able to form a single-party government.
And although László Toroczkai has repeatedly insisted in recent months that his party intends to operate as an independent political force, another of his remarks has certainly caught attention. He said that he sensed a social demand for some form of coordination within the right-wing opposition in order to bring down the Tisza government.
The two parties therefore remain rivals. But increasingly, they may find themselves on the same side of a growing number of political issues.
And then Navracsics and Ferencz stepped forward
As if to make the situation even more intriguing, two politicians suddenly stepped into the spotlight who have long been associated with the more moderate, civic-minded face of Fidesz: Tibor Navracsics and Orsolya Ferencz.
On 20 August, the two jointly announced what they called the Civic Democrats initiative.
Navracsics argued that the extreme confrontation between Hungary’s two political camps was damaging the unity of the country and that dialogue was necessary. He also stressed that the initiative was not about founding a new political party.
That clarification is important.
But it is nevertheless difficult not to notice that if Fidesz’s future increasingly points towards a tougher and more radical right-wing alliance, politicians who continue to emphasise a more traditional, moderate conservative identity could find themselves in an increasingly uncomfortable position.
Could Navracsics and his allies therefore be trying not to break away from Fidesz, but from the direction in which they believe Fidesz is heading?
That would be a rather different interpretation of the story.
Why would Mi Hazánk be useful to Fidesz?
There is certainly a political logic to closer cooperation.
The former governing party could retain its position as the larger and better-organised force on the right, while Mi Hazánk could continue to appeal to voters who have become disillusioned with Orbán but have no intention of joining Tisza.
For Mi Hazánk, meanwhile, cooperation could bring parliamentary weight, greater political influence and, potentially, a stronger bargaining position.
In other words, the classic model of two parties, one political bloc could emerge.
The advantage of such an arrangement would be obvious.
Fidesz would not necessarily have to absorb Mi Hazánk, nor would Mi Hazánk have to abandon its own identity. Each party could retain its own brand while coordinating where their interests overlap.
And there would be another potential benefit.
A stronger relationship with Mi Hazánk could allow Fidesz to keep a political channel open towards voters who are further to the right than the traditional conservative electorate, without necessarily forcing every Fidesz politician to adopt the same tone.
But that brings us to the more interesting question.
What if cooperation is not enough?
Merger or loose alliance?
The most likely scenario, at least for now, is not a formal merger.
A looser right-wing alliance seems considerably more plausible. Fidesz and Mi Hazánk could retain their separate identities while increasingly moving together on selected issues and, perhaps, coordinating against the Tisza government.
That would hardly be unprecedented in politics.
Nor would it necessarily mean that the two parties had suddenly become ideological twins. Political alliances are often built on shared interests rather than complete agreement.
But a full Fidesz–Mi Hazánk merger would be a completely different story.
For that to happen, something much more fundamental would probably have to change inside Fidesz itself.
And this is where the Navracsics–Ferencz initiative becomes particularly interesting.
Is Fidesz heading for a split?
What if the real political struggle is not between Fidesz and Mi Hazánk at all?
What if it is taking place inside the broader Hungarian right?
After all, Fidesz has spent years bringing together political tendencies that do not necessarily have much in common beyond their loyalty to Viktor Orbán and their opposition to the Hungarian left and liberal opposition.
That model worked remarkably well while Fidesz was in government.
But what happens after an electoral defeat?
The incentives change.
A party that no longer controls the government has to decide what kind of opposition force it wants to become. Does it defend its traditional conservative identity? Does it move further to the right in an attempt to regain voters lost to Mi Hazánk? Or does it try to rebuild itself as a broader, more moderate conservative movement?
These are not merely questions of political messaging. They could determine who actually has a future within the post-Orbán right.
And that could put politicians such as Navracsics and Ferencz in a particularly delicate position.
The strange possibility of two rights
It is therefore possible to imagine a rather unexpected political reorganisation.
One possibility would be a radical right-wing force built around Fidesz’s more nationalist and hard-line wing together with Mi Hazánk.
On the other side could emerge a more traditional conservative party, built around figures who want to preserve the civic, moderate and institutionally minded character that once formed an important part of Fidesz’s political identity.
In that scenario, the question would no longer be whether Mi Hazánk joins Fidesz.
The real question would be: which part of Fidesz would join Mi Hazánk?
That is a considerably more disruptive prospect.
It would also explain why the apparently modest Civic Democrats initiative deserves attention. Navracsics and Ferencz may genuinely be interested in dialogue and political reconciliation. They may simply be trying to create a space for a less confrontational form of conservatism.
Or they may be anticipating something larger.
Everything is still possible
Of course, none of this means that a Fidesz–Mi Hazánk merger is imminent.
There is no evidence that the two parties are about to formally dissolve themselves into a single organisation. For now, they remain separate political forces with their own leadership, interests and electoral bases.
But politics is rarely about what has already happened. It is also about what becomes possible after the political landscape changes. And 12 April changed that landscape dramatically.
The old governing party is now in opposition. Tisza dominates the government side of Hungarian politics. Mi Hazánk remains in Parliament and has every reason to believe that it has a role to play on the right.
Meanwhile, figures associated with Fidesz’s more moderate conservative tradition are beginning to speak more openly about dialogue, political division and the future of the right.
Perhaps these are simply isolated developments, or perhaps the pieces are beginning to move. The next Hungarian political battle may therefore not be about left versus right at all. It may be about which right survives.
