Like him, admire him, or hate him, the one thing that can’t be denied about Viktor Orbán and his Fidesz party is the intricate and well-oiled propaganda machine keeping Dear Leader in power. Both he and his assortment of merry men know how to stir up the masses, they know what makes people tick, and – more importantly – they know how to get them ticking. Be it from drowning out members of the opposition via music or excessive clapping to openly attacking anyone who does not align themselves with The Party, the fight to maintain power is alive and well. And the message is as clear as the air currently surrounding the capital: like it or not, you will learn to stand by us, if only because there is no other choice.
While bullying tactics prevail in all areas, the messengers aren’t always the ruffians one would expect. The message is still the same tried-and-tested attack on all that is foreign and not Fidesz-approved, but the messengers have become less threatening and more relatable. Where merely a few years back the population’s opinion was swayed from above, as though God Himself were guiding His people via the actions and words of the Great Leader, today’s messengers are a good mix of the exalted and the plain: actors, musicians, children of well-known citizens ranging from politicians to (former) criminals, whose parents were (perhaps) not as Fidesz-aligned as their offspring, and up-and-coming bloggers eager to connect with their peers. All yearning to serve their Leader in guiding the foot folk towards an understanding of what it means to be Magyar. All featured throughout state media channels and internet portals. Most of them appear on the same shows frequently enough to feed the illusion that they are not only a tight-knit group of friends, but also the only ones to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the Truth.
The Bayer Show is a good case in point. With its aim of dissecting political stories – always to the detriment of the liberal mindset – and featuring political guests to “set things right,’ the show is the perfect vehicle to get the message of populism, conservative family values, and anti-liberalism across. Bayer is instantly recognizable as the close confidant of the Prime Minister, and when his close friend makes a special appearance on the show only brings up how he “could not possibly address the Prime Minister in any other manner but by his first name” for the benefit of his own ego. In Hungary, titles and social status are taken very seriously, and even children living in countries with a more relaxed social structure are very quickly taught to address all adults through a very intricate system of polite pronouns, which become more complicated the more elevated the addressee’s status is. For Bayer to drive his privilege home on national TV, while a rapt studio audience of maybe thirty people watches him in awe, merely confirms that he is the direct spokesman of God, or in this case Viktor Orbán. One cannot argue with the ultimate authority, and in the absence of the Prime Minister, this honor and task fall to Bayer.
But the nation needs more people and a more varied demographic. Enter Keménymag (Hard Core) with its most recent lineup. The name delivers what it promises. A panel of three experts and a host, each representing a segment of the targeted audience, all tearing apart current events to the detriment of anyone opposing their view. The panelists have developed a close rapport, and the good-natured ribbing and banter are an added extra to draw viewers in.
The current panel has been very intelligently curated (for this is a masterpiece of the finest order) to represent every able-bodied age group likely to vote. There is Bence Apáti, a ballet-dancer-turned-publicist and public figure in general for the 30s crowd, representing the caring family man with the house in the countryside and the creative streak. Apáti is divorced, but in a country where every other relationship is falling apart and cheating on your spouse is as normal as going to the baths, this is neither stigmatised nor surprising. If anything, it merely makes him more relatable. Calm, yet still passionate about the issues presented – always the same cocktail of targeting migration, Soros, the opposition, and the Roma – it is easy for the viewer to identify with him. It is no secret that should any member of the Roma population be allowed to fight through the constant discrimination and not be boycotted out of a job, chances are very high that this job will be in entertainment. Hence when Apáti speaks of knowing the Roma, when he states that “there are some decent ones among them,” the viewers are likely to believe him and his “expert” views on why the Roma can never be integrated. Hating the Roma is the one issue guaranteed to unite most of the population, regardless of political leaning, and the constant Roma-bashing is yet another testimony to the deliberateness of Fidesz propaganda machinations.
On either side of Apáti are the young and the old. In the 40s camp, there is Zsolt Jeszenszky, son of former Minister of Foreign Affairs, diplomat and well-known politician Géza Jeszenszky. The younger representative of the illustrious family is either stuck in a permanent pre-teen phase of navigating that fine line between comic book / sci-fi geek and vying for the girl’s attention, or the midlife crisis has hit him full force. Calling himself a “political hobbyist” alongside a slew of attention-catching names, his privileged upbringing shines through every jaded gesture and word. Here is someone who knows the world inside-out, who has the privilege of slouching mock-lazily in his seat while pontificating on whatever subject is presented to him. Status draws its own privilege in Hungary, where kissing up to someone perceived as being higher is not entirely frowned upon and all too frequently practiced. One can imagine him at a dinner party with key political figures just as easily as one can imagine him jumping up and deciding to DJ at the same. The messy hair and T-shirts with slogans carefully chosen to provoke send one clear message: because I can.
Proximity to the Prime Minister is one thing. Getting the creatives and the political elite on their side is a great coup, but won’t hold up when it comes to sustaining power. Indoctrination camps for high-school students need another draw, and that comes in the guise of a hip, tattooed beanie-sporting journalist in his twenties by the name of Balázs Dezse, meant to appeal to the youngest voters and those about to vote. Dezse is more hipster than thug with his slight frame, carefully crafted image of skinny jeans, athletic tops, beanie, and sneakers. Looking at him, one would be forgiven for thinking that here is the representative of Everyman in the party. Again a clear message: famous people and the offspring of key literary and public figures in Hungarian society abound, but there is also the new wave of kids, young, eager, intelligent, and painfully hip. And they work so well together with the established names.
Image credit: Elekes Andor
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