The Orbán Regime’s Affair with the 3T

An empirically based subjective report

This was my very first post on the 8th of Novermber, 2025, though it was never meant to be so. As it happened, Andrea Pető, a renowned historian and gender scholar and myself wrote a book together. We began working on our joint work in early 2024. The subject is strikingly topical; the text, while being rigorously documented and thoroughly well-researched, is designed to be quite easily accessible to anyone interested. The title - by my journalistic instincts - is inviting, catchy even. The cover -owing to the work of the brilliant graphic designer - is eloquent and multilayered. I hope Andrea would not mind me saying this, but the book in every sense turned out to be a piece of science storytelling. And yet the road to publication proved rougher than expected.

As I have no experience whatsoever with book distribution in Hungary, I had just begun to grow optimistic by the fact that the Slovak (!!!) publisher - my gratitude for their bravery - has a contract with Líra. My high hopes however proved to be quite unjustified. The initial order of Líra sold out within two days, and for a brief period the book could not be ordered at all - in the midst of the highest media attention. When the second batch Líra ordered also vanished within two days - or at least became unavailable through the chain’s online platform - I grew somewhat frustrated. Even then, however, I assumed this was merely the usual small-scale Hungarian fumbling. Simply no proper conclusions had yet been drawn from the initial wave of interest. In the end, things appeared to resolve themselves: on the third attempt, the chain placed a substantially larger order.

Any reader with a good faith would assume I am being paranoid when I state that things were quite far from settled, even though on Líra’s online platform the volume has been available for order ever since. According to the chain’s website, it can also be found on open shelves in every store of Líra’s across Hungary. Everything is on track, right?

From here begins my dispassionate, observation-based, journalistic account:

On the 7th of November, 2025, I went to ELTE’s university campus - my former alma mater - to conduct an interview. (The piece will appear in the December issue of a renowned Hungarian monthly, Mozgó Világ). It was early Friday afternoon, drenched in brilliant sunshine, by the time I finished with my work. Opposite the main building, on the other side of Múzeum körút, the street hosting the uni, there is a small Líra bookstore. I couldn’t overcome my desire to see the book on the shelf of the store. Must be understandable for someone having the first book publication, I guess. I crossed the street improperly, slipping through a sudden gap in the torrent of cars.

The little shop’s first display table boldly proclaims in large letters: “New Releases.” Two copies of our book are placed on it, not in a particularly visible spot, though I wouldn’t say they are aggressively hidden either. Although I was a bit disappointed observing that the volumes are arranged with such care that only the spine, that is, as little as possible, is visible of them. One must actually pick the book up to admire the brilliant graphic design.

I mustn’t be so demanding, I thought, so many wonderful books have to fit into this tiny shop, after all. They had found a fairly decent place for ours as well. But the devil on my left shoulder woke with a start, and since the central store of Líra was close by - and the blazing sunlight was quite tempting - I set off on foot. In the vast store, three (or four?) comfortably wide tables stretch out, proudly bearing the sign “New Releases”. A far cry from the cramped display of the earlier shop. I must have been inattentive, I thought as I circled them for the second time. Then a third time. I take my cell phone out and check the internet: there must be more than five copies in stock in this very store. I head toward the back of the huge store.

At the very rear, in the least visible back right corner of the most hidden display table labeled “Politics”, the magenta spine flashes into view. Only the spine. Standing out with the vivid color among the many books written by clever men. All admirably black or white, of course. Now I know our magenta “child” is there - but who on earth would wander that far into the shop? Unless they came into the store looking for it in the first place. And even then, given that there are four info desks between the front door and the back of the store, they would simply ask. That is what I would do.

The afternoon wears on; I still have errands to run, but there is a third Líra along my route. A tiny, crowded shop that you can walk in a couple of minutes, yet the whirl of covers and spines is visually overwhelming. I’m bound to spot the magenta sooner or later, I think, so I drift about patiently. Then - though it’s not my habit - I give up and ask the woman standing by the counter:
“Excuse me,” I asked, “do you happen to have the new release called Viktor Orbán’s Affairs with Women?”
The woman grew slightly stiff, but the man behind the counter, exhibiting mild sarcasm and a reluctant half-smile, replies:
“Sure, we do,” he said, pulling the volume out from beneath the counter.
“Oh, there was no space on the shelves, was there?”
“We set it aside for someone, but you can take one, there are still two left. And more are coming in on Monday anyway.”
I wonder if those, too, will have to be requested from under the counter, I thought, but only to myself.
“Will you take it?” the man asked.
“I’ll drop by again next week,” I said. “Bye.”

The good news - aside from the fact that our book, within the old 3T framework of socialist Hungary, still belongs to the “tolerated” category1 - is available both in bookstores and online. Given that the prospective consumer is sufficiently agile to demand it. On my way home, right before reaching the last Líra bookshop, I hopped into the Writers’ Bookshop as well, a popular independent bookstore midtown. Orbán’s Affairs was displayed on the introductory table that greets customers at the entrance. As I was told, it may even be visible from the street after the upcoming window rearrangement. Since I was there anyway, I picked up a copy of Sátántangó, I had only read a library copy of, back when I was a university student majoring in Hungarian literature. Books matter. Read us, if possible, but definitely read Krasznahorkai in any case.

3T, or “tilt-tűr-támogat” refers to the cultural era of socialist Hungary after the 1956 revolution ruled by János Kádár as the Secretary General of the communist party kept under watch by the Soviet armed forces. Kádár introduced a cultural policy that divided any cultural, scientific or artistic production into three categories: forbade (tilt), tolerated (tűr), supported (támogat).