According to Péter Magyar, Gergely Gulyás suggested that every Fidesz MP should leave Parliament. But would that be a good idea?

It is hardly an exaggeration to say that keeping up with events in the Hungarian Parliament has become increasingly difficult. Spend just a few days away from the news — perhaps on a well-earned summer holiday — and you could be forgiven for feeling as though you had missed an entire season of a political drama streaming under the title Absolute Cinema.

In Monday’s episode, the Tisza Party’s parliamentary majority approved a highly controversial amendment to Hungary’s Fundamental Law. The changes not only remove President Tamás Sulyok from office through an unusually brief constitutional insertion but also introduce a provision preventing anyone who has already been elected to Parliament three times from standing again. Neither measure has many obvious parallels in established constitutional democracies.

The Fidesz machine is struggling

There is, however, one noticeable weakness in the script. The opposition appears to have run out of ideas, seemingly unsure how to respond to the governing majority’s increasingly dramatic constitutional manoeuvres.

Fidesz did attempt an unexpected plot twist. Parliamentary group leader Gergely Gulyás announced his resignation, explaining that “the largest opposition parliamentary group cannot be led by someone who, because of constitutional restrictions, is unable to stand in the next general election. That is why I have decided to step down as parliamentary group leader.”

Yet Prime Minister Péter Magyar claims there was an important development before that announcement. According to him, Gulyás proposed that every Fidesz MP should resign their parliamentary mandate. The former parliamentary group leader firmly denies that any such conversation took place, and the truth will most likely never be known.

But would it have made sense?

The answer is surprisingly far from straightforward.

On the one hand, it is easy to understand why such a radical proposal might arise. If a parliamentary majority adopts constitutional amendments that the opposition regards as fundamentally undermining the democratic rules of the game, it may seem logical to refuse to continue legitimising the process through participation.

A coordinated resignation would represent a powerful political statement. It would send the message that, in the opposition’s view, Parliament no longer functions as a genuine arena for democratic competition. Such a move would almost certainly attract international attention and place Hungary’s constitutional dispute at the centre of political debate for days, perhaps even weeks.

Or perhaps it would only strengthen Péter Magyar

On the other hand, a dramatic gesture can easily become an act of political self-harm.

Parliament remains one of the opposition’s last institutional platforms. It provides opportunities to speak publicly, question ministers, participate in committee work and, however imperfectly, hold the government to account. Abandoning that platform voluntarily would not merely reduce the opposition’s own room for manoeuvre; it would also leave unrepresented those voters who elected them.

It is entirely possible that the government would find it easier to adapt to a Parliament without an opposition than the political damage such a boycott would inflict upon it.

Nor is it certain that mass resignations would achieve their intended legal effect. Under Hungary’s electoral system, vacant list seats could, in principle, simply be filled by the next candidates, unless they too declined their mandates. A genuine parliamentary walkout would therefore require an entire political movement to commit to exactly the same strategy.

History offers no simple answer

Historical experience provides little certainty. Parliamentary boycotts have occasionally triggered the political crises their organisers hoped for. On other occasions, however, those who withdrew found themselves marginalised while the institutions they sought to challenge continued operating without them.

For that reason, it is impossible to say with confidence whether Gergely Gulyás — assuming he ever made such a proposal — was contemplating a masterstroke or a serious strategic mistake. Nor can anyone be sure whether a complete parliamentary resignation would undermine the legitimacy of Hungary’s new constitutional order or, paradoxically, make governing even easier for those already in power.

But did Hungary really experience a change of regime on 12 April? We explored that question in this article.