🍻 Selber Bier Brauen

Legal frameworks for remunerated sexual services often reveal a weakness in our democracies: how to protect sex workers as a marginalized group without patronizing them. A bill recently introduced in the French Senate proposes to replace the current End-Demand legislation with full decriminalization. Drafted by a mixed group of interdisciplinary researchers and sex workers of different backgrounds, the bill tackles this weakness head-on.

Sex workers’ active participation of in drafting the bill led to a nuanced and detailed text. It not only eliminates incoherencies in the existing legal framework, but also emphasises the protection of sex workers’ rights – and therefore, crucially, has the support of those affected.

From an exclusionary legislative framework…

The current legislation dates back to 2016 and rests on two main pillars. First, the law criminalizes paying for sexual services while offering said services officially remains legal. Second, so-called “exit programs” (parcours de sortie de prostitution, or PSP) offer those who want to leave sex work social, financial and educational support to change profession. An often overlooked third element of the legislation made assaulting a sex worker an aggravating circumstance (Art. 11, loi n° 2016-444). The model, first introduced in Sweden in the 1990s, aims to reduce demand for sexual services and thereby suppress – or at least significantly diminish – sex work, which it considers an obstacle to gender equality (hence: End-Demand Model).

Critics raise both factual and legal objections to the French legislation On the factual side, sex workers’ living and working conditions have substantially deteriorated, and violence against them has risen. On the legal side, the law does not differentiate between sex work that is freely exercised and human trafficking.

Before their adoption, the proposals for the 2016 legislation drew the same criticism that has proven well-founded ten years later. That the law was nonetheless adopted can be linked to the testimonial injustice that sex workers often face: The term coined by Fricker refers to a deficit of credibility attributed to a speaker du to prejudice on the hearer’s part. Opposition to the End-demand-legislation had little impact on the legislative process, which was steered by a handful of elected officials in favour of its adoption. Community organizations had fewer opportunities to be heard than abolitionist organizations. Parliamentary debates rested on poorly substantiated estimations of exploitation and the portrayal of sex workers as victims of exploitation. This created an atmosphere in which lawmakers could dismiss any dissenting voice: active sex workers were automatically discredited as privileged and therefore unrepresentative.

When protest during the legislative procedure brought no change, community organizations turned to strategic litigation. National courts and the ECHR ruled against the appellants, relying on the margin of appreciation of the national parliament and emphasizing that parliament had debated these issues during long, thorough and balanced procedures. At the constitutional level, the Conseil constitutionnel not only declined to second-guess the political choices underlying the law but also refused scrutiny of their factual basis. This judicial restraint is standard practice, but it entrenched the assumption that most sex work is forced and left intact the epistemic exclusion of active sex workers claiming the opposite. The ECHR followed the same path: it stayed within its established practice and used none of the available means to give weight to the testimonies of active sex workers, whose voices disappeared behind the margin of appreciation left to parliament.

… to active participation in the legislative process

To address this the research project “Droit(s) et Politique(s) du Travail Sexuel 2026” ,created at the Centre de Recherches Critiques sur le Droit (CERCRID) at the University of St. Étienne, France, aimed at a new approach. It brought together a multidisciplinary team of academic researchers, sex workers, sex worker-led organizations (e.g. Fédération du Parapluie Rouge, Tullia) and allies (Médecins du Monde) to work out a legislative proposal that considers the needs of sex workers from the outset. The project culminated in a bill that Paris senator Anne Souyris introduced in the French Senate. A two-day conference accompanied the introduction, taking stock of a decade of End-Demand legislation and setting out the circumstances of the new project.

The heart of the project was a community consultation involving around 70 people who participated in workshops supported by translators and, where needed, cultural mediation. The research group collectively developed criteria for workshop participation to ensure a representation of the broad range of sex workers as well as third parties, differing in migration background, age and situation. Participating organizations across France received these criteria and either reached out to individuals within their clientele who matched the relevant profile or circulated the information in their network. These workshops mapped out sex workers’ concerns, which the team later used to draft the bill.

What are the proposed changes?

The bill takes a broad approach. Rather than creating special legislation for sex workers, it integrates them into existing legal frameworks like criminal law and employment law that already contain protective mechanisms suited to securing sex workers’ human rights. Unlike the 2016 legislation, which leaned heavily on values like equality and human dignity, this text focuses strikingly on whether its regulations will concretely improve sex workers’ living and working conditions. It therefore contains hardly any provisions open to accusations of moral policymaking. This also means fewer incoherencies – to name only the most glaring: criminalizing payment for a service whose provision is not itself illegal.

In criminal law, this translates into abolishing all pimping offenses, which currently extend to almost all third party-related activity, as well as the criminalization of demand for sexual services. Instead, the bill proposes to focus explicitly on harmful and exploitative conduct which existing criminal offenses such as slavery, forced labour, human trafficking and extortion already cover.

The bill also recognizes sex work not exercised under exploitative conditions as a legal economic activity (activité économique licite) under the French employment code. It proposes tax breaks as incentives to create businesses where sex workers hold effective control, an option considered less susceptible to exploitation. To combat stigma, the bill proposes adding discrimination on the grounds of a legal economic activity to art. 225-1 of the Criminal Code.

The bill centers sex workers as experts on their own situation. Community organizations therefore play a key role: they are the ones who oversee safe working conditions and coordinate the exit programs that are to be reshaped more broadly into programs offering access to rights, social integration, and career transitions.

The bill addresses the diversity of sex workers’ situations by including an article restricting abusive business strategies for online platforms. Lastly, it addresses the protection of minors, which the evaluation of the 2016 legislation identified as an overlooked problem.

A blueprint for inclusive democracy

This is only the beginning, and the bill still has a long way to go. Its prospects remain uncertain in a French political climate increasingly marked by conservative shifts and anti-immigration sentiment. Outside the sex worker community, the abolitionist End-Demand model continues to enjoy support. Yet the project is already breaking new ground.

Sex work remains a controversial subject. The protection of individuals must be weighed against societal values like equality, morality or public decency. Which of these values takes precedence is, according to the relevant courts, a choice for society to make. Yet if “society” equates with the parliamentary decision-making process, active sex workers are not sufficiently represented. This epistemic imbalance weakens the democratic foundation of the legislation as well as the idea of human rights protection that extends to the margins of society.

The values and concerns of “society” – particularly its more privileged segments – are already sufficiently represented within parliamentary institutions. Concerns like public morals, human dignity and restrictive migration regimes will enter the decision-making as soon as the bill moves to the next steps of the legislative procedure. By including sex workers as experts in the drafting process, the proposal remedies their potential exclusion in the following steps. If the bill goes to parliament, their input will already shape the subject and framework of the debates. The proposal’s focus on concrete protective mechanisms, rather than moral policymaking, makes an actual human rights-based approach to sex work more likely – one that actually improves the living and working conditions of those affected.

The post Sex Workers in the Paris Senate appeared first on Verfassungsblog.

Academic literature and international legal documents on transitional justice have concentrated on transitions from dictatorships or armed conflicts, while neglecting hybrid regimes. In such regimes, physical violence is less characteristic (even though not unknown), but centralised corruption, state-organised plunder of resources, and the gradual demolition of the guarantees of democracy and the rule of law during the ancien régime require exceptional transitional measures when building a new democratic regime. Just as the questions of democracy and the rule of law are not binary (“yes” or “no”), transitional measures after hybrid regimes should also be proportionate. In European cases, as far as the legal framework is concerned, besides general international law, the case-law of the ECtHR is mostly relevant. The present piece does not outline a precise roadmap, but it can be helpful for those who are or will be planning such roadmaps by conceptualising certain key dilemmas.

Concepts

“Transitional justice” includes various legal techniques, norms, and processes, de facto practices, and political narratives that are designed to help the transition from a non-democratic state (dictatorship, hybrid regime) into a democracy. It is much more than just court-like procedures about crimes by officials of the ancien régime.

By hybrid regimes, I mean regimes that are between well-functioning (embedded, consolidated) democracies and dictatorships (i.e. violent, oppressive regimes with systematic and severe human rights violations). Instead of having an adjective attached either to “autocracy” or “democracy”, the terminology “hybrid regime” expresses better the in-between status that I would like to stress here.

By “Europe”, I mean the signatories to the ECHR. Therefore, it is not a geographical, but a legal concept which is relevant in order to establish the relevant legal framework (especially ECtHR case-law) of potential transitional justice processes.

Hiatuses of the current transitional justice discourse

If you try to find solutions for the questions of what kind of transitional measures should be taken in the future after a hybrid regime ends in Europe, you will be disappointed. In the literature on transitional justice there is little that can be used – just bits and pieces here and there, some fragments, but nothing specifically addressing these issues. Concerning the topic of the present piece, the discourse suffers from four hiatuses:

First, it is based on a mistaken premise of the “end of history paradigm” (according to which relapse is just an exceptional accident). The way most of the literature writes about transitional justice still mirrors the mood of the 1990s: non-democratic regimes tend to become democracies (“end of history” euphoria), and even if there are relapses (it would be difficult to deny this historically), these are rather just unfortunate accidents. To use medical language, transitional justice is conceived as a one-off “post-traumatic” treatment of exceptional accidents. I suggest that it should rather be seen as a continuous “anti-alcoholic” treatment aimed at avoiding future relapses. The emergence of dictatorships or hybrid regimes nowadays does not just “happen” to countries as an externally caused accident, these developments grow out of inherited cultural patterns.¹⁾ And even if they are externally caused (e.g. via military invasion), in the long run they often distort the local culture (i.e. attitudes and beliefs of the local population) into a feeding ground for their own regime. I call this “institutional alcoholism”.

The usual German translation of transitional justice “Vergangenheitsbewältigung” (literally “dealing with the past”) expresses exactly this misunderstanding of equating transitional justice with just dealing with what has happened in the past. This is not simply a “framing issue”, as it actually has practical consequences for what type of measures are recommended and for how you weigh trade-offs between various measures. If non-democratic relapses are only exceptional accidents, then you do not have to worry about the demoralising effects of amnesties – you just want to get it done and get back to normalcy. But if you think that relapses are culturally conditioned and that they can easily happen (just like an alcoholic tends to relapse without external help), then you are much more careful with letting perpetrators get away and just move on.

Second, it lacks focus on hybrid regimes (ie its triggering threshold is too high). Both the academic literature and dedicated international documents on transitional justice have concentrated so far mainly on transitions from full-blown dictatorships or civil wars, normally requiring “severe and systematic” violent incidents (mass tortures, abductions, killings, rapes, etc.), often in the context of international armed conflicts or civil wars. In hybrid regimes, however, physical violence is less characteristic (even though not unknown), but centralised corruption, state-organised plunder of resources, and the gradual, often informal and systematic demolition of the guarantees of democracy and the rule of law during the ancien régime require exceptional transitional measures when building the new democratic regime.

Third, it lacks focus on crony capitalism, plundering and corruption (ie it almost exclusively focuses on physical violence and violations of civil and political rights). Another feature of the discourse is its almost exclusive focus on physical violence (“past widespread or systematic violence”, see Zunino p. 5) or violations of civil and political rights (ibid 49 and 51). Economic questions normally come up only either as the (triggering) economic context of physical violence or when there is a transition from a non-market-economy (typically socialist regime) into market economy. The discourse is traditionally understood as a subfield of international human rights law – issues such as crony capitalism, resource plundering and corruption are, however, difficult to conceptualise as human rights violations. If you leave these untouched though, then non-democratic forces will have the resources to return and it will convey the message that you can get away with it, so in the future it is worth trying it again.

Fourth, it is legalistic and almost exclusively principle-driven. The discourse generally lacks good empirical studies, thus the effects of the measures are still unclear. Besides classical legal-doctrinal analyses, most of the literature is about implementing moral principles (to date the best comprehensive study is still an almost twenty-year-old Canadian paper).

Why do we need transitional justice?

While saying that ordinary justice measures suffice when returning from a hybrid regime back to democracy might sound theoretically appealing, this viewpoint actually ignores the nature of non-democratic regimes (dictatorships and hybrid regimes). Even though transitional justice does not necessarily need to be illegal according to the legal system of the ancien régime (breaking legal continuity, ie revolutions in a Kelsenian sense, can actually be quite risky both from a practical and a legitimacy perspective), it does need to address transitional issues specifically.

The primary and overarching purpose is to avoid relapse, the question is though how sub-goals can help this. Non-democratic regimes do not have the cultural and legal immune systems that are necessary to avoid future relapses, and these immune systems need to be built up. Officials of the ancien régime will not automatically deal with past injustices either (some of them also lack the necessary credibility to do so), you thus need some impulses or personal changes to set the machines into motion. These points hold both for dictatorships and for hybrid regimes.

Unavoidable trade-offs

There are often conflicting purposes regarding transitional justice processes. While the overarching purpose is clearly to avoid a relapse, it is not clear through which mix of sub-goals this can be achieved. Whether it is “justice”, “truth”, “reconciliation”, “stability”, “prosperity”, “legitimacy”, “democracy”, or “the rule of law” (which are all very much open-ended concepts themselves), remains somewhat opaque. Moreover, there are also unavoidable trade-offs between these goals. To illustrate the dilemmas, Jon Elster notes the contradicting expectations concerning trials in transitional justice situations (Closing the Books: Transitional Justice in Historical Perspectives at 212):

• Trials should be speedy, in the sense of starting up immediately […].
• They should be swift, in the sense of being concluded quickly.
• They should be severe, using […] long prison sentences.
• They should be just, both in the substantive sense of punishment according to desert and in the procedural sense of respecting the rule of law.
• They should be thorough, in the sense of convicting a large fraction of the collaborators.
• They should be efficacious, in the sense of using scarce resources as efficiently as possible.

Well, good luck with fulfilling all these expectations at the same time! The best, but admittedly somewhat vague, advice to transitional governments is thus “to pursue as much transitional justice as possible and yet only as much as is prudent”.

The toolbox

It is important to emphasise that transitional justice is not just about legal measures, and especially much more than just trials. The various measures do not exclude each other: they can and should be applied together. Their application can also be quite messy: one person can belong at the same time to the victims and the perpetrators. As the 2004 Report of the UN Secretary-General formulates about the applicable toolbox: “We must learn as well to eschew one-size-fits-all formulas and the importation of foreign models, and, instead, base our support on national assessments, national participation and national needs and aspirations.” This is exactly why we have to rethink transitional justice for hybrid regimes.

There are three main categories of measures in the toolbox: First, measures of Transformative Justice Reshaping the Political Community. These include symbolic ruptures, maybe a new constitution (or rather not, as this can easily re-ignite polarisation in transitional situations, thereby undermining future liberal democracy), institutional reforms, vetting/lustration, and measures aimed at discovering/remembering the past. Second, measures of Restorative Justice Helping Victims. While this can be part of the toolbox, after hybrid regimes this is less central (cf. above the lack of massive and severe human rights violations). Third, measures of Retributive Justice Punishing Perpetrators and Beneficiaries. This can include “naming and shaming”, expropriation and asset recovery (partly through non-conviction-based confiscation, whereby especially Article 1 of Protocol 1 ECHR needs to be considered), vetting/lustration (within the limits of Article 8 ECHR, inter alia), and criminal trials (whereby especially Articles 6 and 7 ECHR need to be respected).

A few concrete pieces of advice on how to avoid pitfalls

In order not to be too academic, I finish with some concrete advice:

• Resist the temptation to do nothing: send a message to the future. At the same time, be aware that vengeance is usually a poor guide for institution-building.
• Trade-offs are unavoidable, so you consciously need to balance and prioritise your goals.
• Have a precise plan – with incrementalism and continuous self-corrections during implementation. Do outreach activities: explain and involve.
• Set traps: officials of the ancien régime have a tendency to betray each other, if they understand that the ancien régime is unlikely to return (“strategic defectors”), and if you give them the opportunity to do so (prisoner’s dilemma in the service of transitional justice).
• Be careful with the very top leader on trial: such a symbolic trial can mobilise hard-core supporters of that leader and can thus easily backfire. In contrast, trials against cronies and against other high officials (excluding the actual former leader) are safer options.
• Deal with property issues.
• Stay legal: respect the ECHR with the right legal technique. Revolutions in a legal (Kelsenian) sense have a high price in the long run.
• Be aware of how polarisation can undermine liberal democracy: avoid ideologically divisive measures as much as possible.
• Show a good example: be transparent in your goals, be fair in the procedure, and most importantly govern well.

Opinions expressed in this article are in personal capacity and do not engage the European Court of Human Rights.

The post Transitional Justice after Hybrid Regimes in Europe appeared first on Verfassungsblog.

The victory of Péter Magyar and TISZA Party in the parliamentary elections of 12 April 2026 may be seen as a useful illustration of the theory of competitive authoritarianism developed by Steven Levitsky and Lucan Way. It suggests that even under uneven political conditions, electoral victory remains possible when an opposition movement is well organized, presents a credible program, and effectively capitalizes on the weaknesses and mistakes of the incumbent government. Consequently, claims about the demise of liberal democracy appear to be premature.

This victory comes 2.5 years after the pro-democratic and pro-European win in Poland – of the coalition led by the Prime Minister Donald Tusk. Since December 2023, Poland is getting through the difficult process of rule of law recovery and democratic revival. So, any comparison of the Polish and Hungarian case seems to be a natural starting point, especially as regards lessons drawn from the current Polish transition. This article compares the Polish and Hungarian case, arguing that the transition to democracy is not only about constitutional or legislative rebuilding of institutions, but requires commitment of various stakeholders to a meaningful democratic change. Poland’s experience could be interesting as regards regaining trust of European institutions. Hungarian authorities should also look closely to accountability challenges in order to meet high expectations of voters.

Regaining the trust of European institutions

In theory, a sweeping victory by TISZA and the acquisition of a two-thirds constitutional majority should make the process of political and institutional change in Hungary easier than it has been in Poland. The coalition led by Donald Tusk secured a parliamentary majority, but not enough seats to override a presidential veto, let alone obtain a constitutional majority. Moreover, several state institutions remained firmly controlled by loyalists of the previous regime. Finally, the presidential election in mid-2025 did not bring any substantial change as regards the institutional setting. Right-wing President Karol Nawrocki has continued the policies of his predecessor, Andrzej Duda, particularly with regard to the judiciary and other central state institutions. Instead of institutional repair, Poland has experienced the negative consequences of deepening political polarization. Nevertheless, many important reforms and initiatives have been implemented in Poland, and these experiences may prove valuable for Hungary.

Peter Magyar promised in his inaugural speech to unfreeze the EU money from the Recovery and Resilience Facility (RRF) funds. It could be possible, if Hungary fulfills all 27 milestones, including those relating to judicial independence. Changing legislation is no challenge for TISZA (as compared to Poland, which is still struggling with different laws concerning the judiciary). But there is one additional policy that Hungary could pursue – joining the European Public Prosecution Office. It is not one of the milestones. It was also not in the Polish case. But from a political point of view, this step sends a strong signal that the EU money is safe and could be the subject of effective and independent scrutiny in case of misuse. It is thus no surprise that the need to join the EPPO has been regularly stressed by Peter Magyar in his speeches.

However, unfreezing the RRF funds is only one challenge. The second is the lifting of the Article 7 TEU procedure against Hungary. In April 2024, Poland presented its Action Plan, which was positively assessed by the Council, the European Commission, and almost all Member States (naturally, with the exception of Hungary). As a result, the Article 7 procedure against Poland was lifted, and the Polish government moved towards the gradual implementation of the Action Plan, with at times uneven and difficult progress. Although the process has not yet been completed, the relationship between the executive and judicial branches is today much closer to the standards of a traditional constitutional democracy than it was before elections in 2023. The upcoming end of term of the politicized National Council of Judiciary and the selection of its new judicial members could be important steps in Poland’s rule of law recovery.

Although a two-thirds majority in Hungary would empower the new Parliament to enact almost any constitutional or legislative reform, the key question is whether such changes should be carried out with self-restraint, moderation, and inclusiveness. This concerns, in particular, guarantees of judicial independence. It seems that those actors within Hungarian civil society who defended democratic standards throughout the sixteen years of Orbán’s rule would favor such an approach – one grounded in democratic values rather than in a “winner takes it all” mentality. Moreover, like in Poland, the Venice Commission may play an important role in evaluation of proposed long-term constitutional reforms in Hungary.

The Hungarian government, in order to gain trust of the EU institutions, may also consider changing its position towards European courts. On the first day in office, Radoslaw Sikorski, Minister of Foreign Affairs of Poland, declared that the government is not going to appeal the Wałęsa v. Poland pilot judgment (application no. 50849/21, judgment of 23 November 2023), concerning systemic problems with judicial appointments and the status of the infamous Chamber of Extraordinary Control and Public Affairs of the Supreme Court. It was an important signal to the Council of Europe that Poland is coming back to a family of like-minded countries. The government has also changed its positions in pending cases before the CJEU.

Regaining the trust of citizens: accountability for the past

Restoring the rule of law is not only about fixing judicial institutions. It also requires renewing strong democratic practices, including public access to documents, transparent decision-making, effective legislative procedures, and merit-based recruitment for public positions. Citizens need to experience these changes as genuine and meaningful – seeing institutions work daily to build trust, improve efficiency, and solve real problems. Although these reforms may appear less absorbing than rebuilding a major institution, they play a crucial role in reshaping the relationship between the state and its citizens. In this process, the state once again becomes a shared project of all people, rather than serving the interests of an oligarchic or privileged elite.

Taking into account Polish experiences, one of the most important challenges is the process of accountability for past abuses and corruption. Already in 2016, Balint Magyar described Hungary as a “mafia state”. 10 years later, the situation is even more dramatic, which is confirmed by relevant reports of international organizations, but also the position of Hungary in different rankings (such as e.g. the global Perception of Corruption Index by Transparency International – Hungary occupies place No. 84). Furthermore, voters expect accountability, and combating corruption was one of the main reasons for the change in regime. Therefore, expectations among TISZA supporters will be high, and over time the party will be judged on whether it has fulfilled its promises.

Accountability requires two key elements: effective institutions and committed individuals. With regard to institutions, accountability can be pursued through traditional mechanisms such as prosecution services, audit offices, tax inspections, and investigative committees. Over the past 2.5 years, the Polish authorities have relied on existing legal instruments to hold former politicians accountable for corruption (including use of funds for strictly political purposes) and for abusing state institutions to pursue political objectives (e.g. the use of Pegasus spyware to surveil prominent attorneys, judges, prosecutors, and politicians).

Effective institutions

The European Public Prosecutor’s Office (EPPO) may also play an important role in ensuring accountability. However, even if Hungary were to join EPPO in the near future, the institution would likely not become fully operational for at least a year. Hungarian authorities would first need to appoint a European Prosecutor and delegated European prosecutors, establish local offices, and adopt technical rules governing cooperation between the EPPO, the national prosecution service, the police, intelligence services, and tax authorities. Only after these steps are completed could one realistically expect the first investigations, arrests, and indictments on Hungarian territory. The key question is whether voters would be patient enough to wait for tangible results.

But Hungarian authorities are in a good legislative position to seek for some new institutional solutions that could tackle question of accountability, including asset recovery. An interesting example comes from South Africa, where in 2018 the Judicial Commission of Inquiry into Allegations of State Capture has been created. It was led by Chief Justice of the South African Constitutional Court Raymond Zondo. It had extensive investigative powers, interrogated hundreds of witnesses and collected extensive evidence. Later on, results of its work and recommendations were taken over by the regular prosecution service. Chief Justice Zondo has been appreciated for his work with the 2025 Rule of Law Award by the World Justice Project. When receiving it, judge Zondo said that “South Africa must not go back to State capture, because State capture is the antithesis to the Rule of Law.”

Another idea is the set of instruments included into the draft additional protocol to the Warsaw Convention on Laundering, Search, Seizure and Confiscation of the Proceeds from Crime and on the Financing of Terrorism (CETS No. 198), to be adopted during the upcoming Chisinau Conference. It is a modern instrument, checked upon compliance with fair trial standards, providing for a possibility for the use of non-conviction based seizure and confiscation orders. It sets a number of institutions, such as financial investigation units, asset recovery offices or the possibility to undertake immediate and interim measures. Hungarian authorities could simply make an effort to set up some of those institutions directly in national legislation, especially when they are designed in accordance with fair trial standards.

Committed people

However, accountability cannot be successful without committed people, especially prosecutors and civil servants. The central question is whether people, who have actively supported or passively endured the regime of Victor Orbán throughout the past 16 years, are able to lead comprehensive and complex investigations, whether they are truly committed to the rule of law and decency in public life, whether they are able to be disconnected and independent from elites, especially in smaller cities and rural areas.

Accountability cannot include just a few most important investigations, prosecuted from the level of Budapest, with a few trusted and committed individuals. Sooner or later voters will start to ask a question about the fate of local oligarchs and corrupted FIDESZ politicians also in Eger, Miskolc or Szeged. Moreover, accountability is not only about prosecution of corrupt practices. It should also mean review of all those cases that have been dropped or discontinued over past 16 years due to political reasons. There were also many individuals who were affected by negative practices of the Hungarian state, such as intimidation campaigns, undue accusations, SLAPP cases etc. Those people, victims of the regime, would also expect some form of justice. Moreover, there could be an expectation of voters (and people affected by illiberal rule) to make some form of vetting of people responsible for running the prosecution service or other compromised state institutions.

Taking into account Polish experiences, one should remember that a number of people in the prosecution service and other state institutions may regard the Orbán era as a period of professional promotion, specialization, and recognition (just as some Polish prosecutors and judges were beneficiaries of the Zbigniew Ziobro era in Poland). This means that accountability measures may indirectly affect their own individual choices and compromises made during that time. The question is whether, after the initial revolutionary period, they will simply do their jobs, conduct independent investigations, and promote the values of the rule of law and fair trial, or whether they will instead seek various forms of professional or formal escapism, avoid taking responsibility, and merely wait for another regime change in Hungary. There is also a risk that people loyal to the former regime (or strongly intertwined in various opaque local networks) may impede the entire process of institutional change.

Voters expect quick results

These observations and potential risks should influence political choices regarding the design of institutions, the appointment of key officials, reforms within institutions, and possible vetting and disciplinary measures. One should not wait with those reforms. At the end of the day, voters will expect substantial results in terms of accountability. They cannot be achieved without independent prosecutors preparing charges, motions to lift parliamentary immunity, and bills of indictment.

To conclude, I do believe that Hungary will be successful in its rule of law recovery and democratic transition. Good and bad experiences from Poland may provide guidance. If Hungary succeeds, it would mean a lot for revival of liberal democracy in Visegrád Group as well as in the whole European Union.

The post Polish Lessons for the Hungarian Transition appeared first on Verfassungsblog.