Hungary’s exit from justice by Edoardo Moretti

The announcement of Hungary’s intention to withdraw from the International Criminal Court (ICC) raises more questions than answers. It came just hours after Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, himself facing an ICC arrest warrant, landed in Budapest for an official visit. While diplomatic tea and polite handshakes were on display, one can’t help but wonder: is Viktor Orbán eyeing the exit because he sees the writing on the wall for himself?

Orbán has long fashioned himself as the bulldog of Europe, snarling at Brussels, barking at liberal values, and, when he’s not busy chasing imaginary threats from the West, sinking his teeth into the most vulnerable members of his own society. Immigrants, opposition voices, and the LGBTQ+ community have all found themselves at the mercy of his government’s iron grip. But why now, Viktor? Why flirt with the idea of ditching the ICC when nobody’s actively calling for your head?

Perhaps the prime minister knows better than anyone that the noose is tightening. The ICC, while imperfect and slow, has a way of catching up with those who build their legacies on human rights violations and state-sponsored witch hunts. Orbán’s government has systematically dismantled judicial independence, harassed journalists into silence, and nurtured a culture of intolerance under the guise of ‘protecting traditional values.’

Netanyahu’s visit seems almost poetic in its timing. One leader, accused of war crimes and crimes against humanity, sitting across from another who’s building his own reputation for ruthless suppression. Birds of a feather? Or just two men looking to compare notes on how to dodge international accountability?

Orbán’s government has, unsurprisingly, framed the move as a matter of sovereignty. A nation protecting itself from foreign interference, they say. But the truth is far less heroic and much more desperate. In reality, it reeks of fear. A fear that his relentless pursuit of absolute power and authoritarian rule might one day land him in the same seat as former Yugoslav leaders or Sudan’s Omar al-Bashir on trial for crimes that went too far, even in a world accustomed to political excess.

Perhaps Orbán sees his own reflection in Netanyahu, a leader wrapped in nationalist rhetoric and drowning in accusations. After all, Hungary’s treatment of asylum seekers, Roma communities, and LGBTQ+ citizens has drawn sharp rebukes from human rights organizations worldwide. Anti-immigrant laws and policies that target civil society groups hint at something far darker than mere nationalism. They hint at a leader who knows that justice, while delayed, might still come knocking.

While the move to abandon the ICC is dressed up as patriotic defiance, it is ultimately a coward’s retreat. Real leaders don’t fear justice; they embrace it. They don’t shirk responsibility when the world demands answers; they stand trial and defend their actions with courage. By choosing to run, Orbán has shown his true colours, not those of a fierce patriot but of a man terrified of his own legacy.

As Hungary contemplates its path away from international accountability, it risks becoming a cautionary tale for democracies everywhere. When leaders shed transparency in favor of unchecked power, it is not just a domestic problem but an international crisis. The ICC may not be perfect, but it remains one of the few mechanisms the global community has to hold the powerful to account. Orbán’s move to escape its jurisdiction is not about sovereignty, it’s about survival.

So here’s a thought for Hungary’s bulldog-in-chief: you can ditch the court, silence the media, and crush the opposition. But the world is watching. And when you fear justice this much, it usually means you have something to hide.