Hungary Pride 2025, Mirja Vogel20 Images
It was on the fifth floor of an old Soviet building with a creaking lift and wood-panelled halls where a group of activists had organised to meet in Budapest. The building was once a telephone exchange, built in the 1970s and equipped with the most advanced Soviet, Yugoslavian and West German equipment. It was a symbol of progression for the repressed communist country in the heart of the Eastern Bloc.
But on the evening before Budapest Pride, 35 years after the country held its first democratic election since the outbreak of the Second World War, a small corner of the former communication hub was now host to a private event for the LGBTQ+ community, which has been the target of a gradual, painful campaign orchestrated by Hungary’s authoritarian government to cast them as enemies of the country’s national values. Inside an empty square room bereft of furniture, some of the activists were stooped over white canvases in small groups on the concrete floor. Others sat alone, cross-legged in front of sheets of cardboard. All were painting placards, flags and banners with messages of support for all people across the LGBTQ+ spectrum in Hungary.
Hungary’s prime minister, Viktor Orbán, outlawed Budapest Pride in March, threatening its organisers with jail time and attendees with fines of up to £430. It was the latest in a string of repressive anti-LGBTQ+ laws created under the guise of “child protection.” “The government needs a scapegoat, something which appears toxic, to blame its problems on,” Andras Lederer, Head of Advocacy at the Hungarian Helsinki Committee, told me. “Now it is the LGBTQ+ community.”
In direct defiance of Orbán’s threats, the Budapest Pride organisers decided to rebel. “It will be Hungary’s largest Pride ever,” said Viktória Radványi, the President of Budapest Pride. “The more we are, the safer we will be.” But in the lead-up to the march, many Hungarians were not so confident. Fierce negotiations between the mayor of Budapest, state police, the central Hungarian government and Pride organisers continued until 11am on Saturday – just three hours before the march’s official start time.
The morning prior, Dávid Bedő, a member of the Hungarian parliament and founder of the liberal Momentum Party, had told me plainly that he “honestly had no clue how the government will react.” “The government is in a shady situation,” Bedő said. “They’re highly unpredictable right now. There’s even a possibility that they will outsource violence to the far right.”
As the paint dried on pro-LGBTQ+ placards on the eve of the Pride march, a coalition of far-right nationalists and extremist Christian groups were preparing a counter-protest. “We would be deeply ashamed if the parade of homosexual subversives were to take place,” said Gábor Barcsa-Turner, a senior figure of far-right nationalist group, Sixty-Four Counties Youth Movement (HVIM). “We are not built on violence, but we are not afraid of the physical form of struggle either.” The group had declared earlier in the week on their website, that only “white, Christian, heterosexual men and women” were welcome to attend their demonstration – which, unlike Pride, had been granted a permit to organise a public assembly by the Hungarian Government.
The government needs a scapegoat, something which appears toxic, to blame its problems on. Now it is the LGBTQ+ community
But on Saturday, underneath a cloudless sky, the sheer number of Pride attendees shattered all expectations of both the activist organisers and far-right counter protesters. Speaking to a multi-coloured parade of attendees which stretched back over a mile through Budapest’s most iconic landmarks, Viktória Radványi described how “today, over 200,000 people, including 70 European diplomats, had come together in support of Budapest Pride.” The previous attendee record was 35,000 in 2024.
The scattered far-right demonstrations were, by and large, ineffective. Only at one moment were the police forced to divert the Pride march away from a larger blockade organised by HVIM. Pride’s success was a triumph, owing in part to the support of Gergely Karácsony, the liberal Mayor of Budapest, who intervened to defy the ban by hosting Pride as a municipal event instead.
Its success has left Orbán and Fidesz reeling. Ahead of a general election next year, Orbán trails his opposition by 15 points, according to recent polls. For a man who remains the longest-serving current leader of any country in the EU and proudly displays his strongman image to cronies like Trump and Putin, the very public defiance of his rule of law has weakened him. Boxed into a corner, many fear where, when and how he will lash out next. Early signs suggest the prognosis for the LGBTQ+ community is not good. In a vicious attack just 24 hours after Pride, Orbán labelled the event “repulsive and shameful”, and attacked the European Union for supporting it.
And every day in Hungary’s schools, the damage of one of Orban’s most draconian laws is felt by thousands of young people. It has now been four years since Hungary prohibited the representation and “promotion” of homosexuality and gender transition across all media accessible to under-18s. The law not only bans LGBTQ+ materials in sex education, it bans all LGBTQ+ content in all daytime television programs and adverts. Queer-themed books must be sealed and can’t be sold near schools and churches.
Non-profit organisations and local charities working across the country are seeing their impact on youth already. According to Háttér Society, the largest NGO dedicated to LGBTQ+ support in Hungary, the effect has been “extremely worrying.” “Since the new rules came into schools, we’ve seen a really large increase in the amount of young people getting in touch with us about bullying and to request support for their mental and physical health,” said Tamás Dombos, a member of the NGO’s board.
Earlier this year, one girl, 14, contacted Háttér Society after she was disciplined for dressing as an LGBTQ+ activist at a fancy dress party held in her school. “And there are more cases…” said Tamás Dombos, pausing momentarily. “Cases where young transgender people have committed suicide because they cannot find a place for themselves in this world here in Hungary.”
The success of Budapest Pride was a statement of defiance, which may well affect the outcome of the Hungary’s next April. But a lot can happen in ten months and every day, the struggle continues for LGBTQ+ rights in a country, which has singled the community out as enemies of the state.
