A Pardon That Backfired
In April 2023, Novák granted a presidential pardon to Endre Kónya, a deputy director convicted in 2018 of covering up child sexual abuse at a state-run orphanage in Bicske, Hungary. The director of that orphanage had been separately convicted of the underlying abuse. The pardon, issued quietly without public consultation or parliamentary scrutiny, remained unknown for nearly a year. On February 2, 2024, Hungarian media broke the story, unleashing a wave of public outrage that rapidly grew into sustained protests in Budapest.
On February 9, 2024, an estimated 50,000 people gathered in Budapest demanding Novák’s immediate resignation. Families, students, and civil society groups united under a single, urgent message: the president could not remain in office after shielding a child abuse cover-up. The protests were raw and personal, reflecting the deep sense of betrayal Hungarians felt over a decision that appeared to contradict the family-friendly image Novák and the governing Fidesz party had long cultivated. Novák had served as Minister for Family Affairs in Orbán’s fourth government before being elected president in 2022 as the youngest person and first woman to hold the post. Her political identity was built around child protection policies, making the pardon all the more jarring.
Novák resigned the very next day, February 10, 2024, in a televised address. She apologized for the decision, acknowledging the profound hurt it caused. Her resignation was swift, but it did not end the crisis. The Bicske orphanage case involved a state-run facility, a cover-up that stretched from 2018 to the pardon in 2023, and a system that allowed the clemency to be granted without any form of public oversight. The orphanage, the cover-up, the pardon, the protests, the resignation—each step exposed a gap in institutional checks that many Hungarians found unacceptable.
Constitutional Recalibration
The institutional machinery had already been set in motion. On February 26, 2024, Hungary’s parliament passed a constitutional amendment that allowed for Novák’s formal removal from office and paved the way for a new presidential election. The amendment was not merely procedural; it represented a fundamental recalibration of how Hungary’s presidency interacts with the justice system and public accountability. For the first time in the country’s post-communist era, a sitting president was forced from office over a single act of clemency.
The constitutional change did more than remove Novák. It altered the legal framework for presidential accountability, shifting the rules that govern the pardon power. The office of the Hungarian presidency has long been largely ceremonial, but it carries the constitutional authority to grant pardons—a power meant to be a mercy mechanism, not a political tool. The backlash against the Bicske pardon forced a rewrite of those rules, opening a new chapter in Hungarian governance where presidential pardons may face tighter scrutiny and public accountability.
The scandal also tested the resilience of Hungary’s hybrid political system. Novák had been seen as a loyalist figurehead within Fidesz, but her fall demonstrated that public outrage, channeled through sustained protest, could force a constitutional change and topple a head of state. The protests on February 9 were not just about Novák; they were about the broader question of who watches the watchers. The orphanage in Bicske had been a state facility, and the cover-up conviction implicated systemic failures. The pardon felt, to many Hungarians, like a betrayal of the most vulnerable.
The new presidential election process, still unfolding, will test whether the reforms stick or whether the system reverts to form. The precedent set by Novák’s downfall will shape how future presidents weigh the use of their pardon power and how the public holds them to account. For now, the Bicske case remains a scar on Hungary’s political landscape. The next president will inherit not just an office, but a mandate to rebuild trust.
