orbán viktor propagandistája…

😤 I am always astonished by the kind of people who make up that so-called “other side,” with whom we stand in complete political opposition. But it now seems we have reached a point where it is no longer only our political views that separate us, but also our way of life and our behavior.
Of course, this is not necessarily true of everyone who openly identifies as anti-Fidesz; among them there are people who are capable of thinking and, in some cases, even of being reasonable debate partners. And that is a good thing.

The problem, however, is that there exists a massive group of people who are least objectionable to me not because we stand on different political platforms. For example, I am now reading the news that those Hadházy supporters who, back when the weather was nicer, gathered in relatively larger numbers to shout weekly across Ferenciek Square under the leadership of our country’s “zebra commissioner,” will now have to pay—quite literally—for blasphemy.

Four people were fined for entering the church located at Ferenciek Square during one of Ákos Hadházy’s demonstrations last September. During the protest, while speeches were being delivered, the church bells rang continuously for 17 minutes, and several protesters entered the church through its main gate to demonstrate. These four individuals were charged with violating the right to freedom of religion and were fined. According to the newspaper, proceedings for disorderly conduct are ongoing against three other individuals.

And here I could also include all those who, assigned to the pages of right-wing content creators, engage daily in smearing, slander, and threats while hiding behind the safe protection of the virtual world. You see, these people—who engage in filth, blasphemy, slander, and threats against our children—are still our fellow citizens. We live together in this wonderful country; in the best case, we build it together and keep it running together, both during campaign periods and beyond.

Until now, we merely disagreed. But encouraged by the leader of Tisza, these people now want our blood, because in their view we deserve retribution. Yet disagreement does not mean that one must destroy the other, nor does it mean humiliating God’s house with a vulgar protest. There should be a minimum standard, a basic line, of what we do not do to one another, what we do not wish upon our fellow citizens.

I sincerely hope that at least some of these people will, after April, reflect even slightly on what they have done over the past year and a half, whether in reality or in the virtual world. And those who do not will at least be a little less proud of having wanted to spill Hungarian blood as Hungarians.
Only 91 days left.


This is not a moral stance, but the manufacturing of an enemy image.

1️⃣ Construction of moral superiority

The author begins by making an “exception” (“not everyone is like this”), then immediately proceeds to collectively stigmatize an entire political side.
👉 This is classic “sensible us vs. immoral them” framing.

2️⃣ Instrumentalization of religion

A specific legal case—linked to one of Ákos Hadházy’s demonstrations—is presented as a civilizational attack.
The church at Ferenciek Square is not treated as a religious space, but as a political bludgeon.

👉 The concern is not freedom of religion, but symbolic outrage.

3️⃣ Deliberate emotional escalation

The text progresses step by step:

  • “unpleasant”
  • “blasphemers”
  • “slanderers”
  • “they threaten our children”
  • “they want our blood”

👉 This is not description; it is a chain designed to inflame emotions.

4️⃣ Presumption of guilt and collective responsibility

From the actions of a handful of individuals, an entire political community is declared guilty.
This is not rule-of-law thinking, but mass-psychological incitement.

5️⃣ Veiled threat at the end

“Only 91 days left.”
This is not hope, but campaign-level intimidation:
👉 you may speak now, but judgment is coming.


Short, publishable summary

This is not public debate; it is propaganda.
The text uses religion, legal cases, and isolated incidents to morally dehumanize a political community and then present it as a collective threat.
The “we are peaceful – they want blood” narrative is not about social coexistence, but about fear-mongering and mobilization.
This is the point where political communication crosses the boundary of civilized debate.