The karmic wheel spins again, and Hungary’s self-styled “defender of civilization” awakens in his new body.
- The karmic wheel spins again, and Hungary’s self-styled “defender of civilization” awakens in his new body. Slim? Noble? Heroic? Hardly. He awakes as none other than Jabba the Hutt, galactic mob boss and patron saint of bloated authoritarianism. Orbágga the Hutt sits ensconced in his palace, or in this case, the Hungarian Parliament, a heap of smug flesh surrounded by sycophants. He bellows decrees in a slobbering tongue, while aides translate: “What His Excellency means is… no migrants, no dissent, and definitely no Brussels telling him what to do.” His throne room smells faintly of cigars and state subsidies. A golden chain dangles at his side, not around Princess Leia’s neck this time, but around the free press, the judiciary, and anyone foolish enough to believe in checks and balances. He feasts while the public waits outside for crumbs, burping out slogans about “Christian values” in between gulps. Critics call him a tyrant. He calls it “family policy.” Same difference. Every visitor to his lair must bow, or risk the trapdoor beneath their feet. Down below waits not a Rancor beast, but the ever-hungry pit of corruption, devouring journalists, opposition leaders, and NGOs alike. Orbágga smiles his slimy smile, knowing he has outlasted enemies, sanctions, and swipes from the EU flyswatter. But deep down, he knows the script. In every saga, the Hutt eventually gets strangled by the very chain he thought he controlled. And somewhere in the galaxy, the karmic wheel is already spinning for his next rebirth.
