By Mary Jones & Don Terry | Monday, May 5, 2025 | 6 min read
In a surprise landslide, Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese secured reelection early this morning, delivering a powerful message not just to his conservative opponents at home—but to a certain former U.S. president half a world away.
Albanese’s center-left Labor Party isn’t just staying in power. It’s expanding its majority in parliament, defying months of dire polling and bucking the odds stacked against any sitting government trying to win reelection during turbulent times.
So what changed? According to analysts, one unexpected variable helped tip the scales: Donald Trump.
A Turnaround No One Saw Coming
Just a few months ago, Labor was staring down the possibility of losing power. Internal polling reportedly showed the party with a meager 3% chance of holding onto its majority. But as Trump’s tariff blitz kicked off and his influence began looming larger on the international stage, the political winds shifted—and fast.
“From 3% to a dominant majority? That’s not just a comeback. That’s a political earthquake,” said CNN’s Harry Enten, sounding stunned on air.
Australians Don’t Want Trumpism—Even From Their Own Leaders
Trump’s return to the spotlight—and his aggressive trade moves—didn’t sit well with voters down under. By election day, nearly 70% of Australians said they believed Trump’s presidency was “bad for Australia.” That gave Albanese’s team an opening, and they took it.
Labor hammered the conservative opposition, tying them to Trump’s erratic trade policies and hardline rhetoric. The backlash was swift and brutal: the leader of the conservative coalition lost his own seat. In Australia, that’s about as humiliating as it gets.
“This wasn’t just a win for Labor,” one political commentator said. “It was a full-throated rejection of Trump-style politics.”
A Pattern Emerges Across Borders
Australia isn’t alone. In Canada, a flailing Liberal Party found unexpected traction by distancing itself from Trump’s rhetoric. In Mexico, President Claudia Sheinbaum’s approval numbers soared after she publicly pushed back against Trump’s immigration saber-rattling.
A global survey across 29 countries tells the broader story: in 26 of them, public opinion of the U.S. as a positive global force has declined since Trump returned to power. The message is consistent—people aren’t just watching America’s politics; they’re reacting to them.
“Trump hasn’t just changed America,” one analyst said. “He’s reshaping the political climate around the world.”
Australians Still Back the U.S.—Just Not This U.S.
Interestingly, despite their growing unease with Trump, most Australians still value the country’s alliance with the U.S. Around 80% continue to support the partnership. What’s changed is how they distinguish between America and Trump himself.
“People here know the difference,” said Peter Hartcher, political editor at the Sydney Morning Herald. “They see America as a crucial ally, but they see Trump as a destabilizing figure who doesn’t speak for all Americans.”
Demagogues Aren’t Just Losing Elections—They’re Fueling the Backlash
When Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese stepped up to the podium on election night, his tone was calm but firm.
“Australians have chosen optimism and determination,” he said.
It was more than a victory speech—it was a declaration. Albanese wasn’t just celebrating a political win. He was drawing a line in the sand. His re-election wasn’t about party loyalty or policy nuance; it was a collective rebuke of fear, division, and the creeping influence of demagoguery.
Donald Trump wasn’t on the ballot. Not in Australia. Not in Canada. Not in Mexico. And yet, his shadow loomed over every campaign.
From Canberra to Ottawa to Mexico City, voters are pushing back—not just against their own conservative leaders, but against the broader movement Trump has come to symbolize. The playbook of grievance, nationalism, and authoritarian flirtation is starting to wear thin. And ironically, it’s giving rise to a surge of unexpected wins for progressive parties across the globe.
The question now isn’t whether the backlash is real—it is. The question is: how long can it last?
The Crack in the Strongman’s Armor
Nowhere is that global tension more visible than Hungary.
Viktor Orbán has ruled Hungary for over 14 years—long enough to cement his place as the EU’s most enduring political figure, and long enough to leave democracy battered in his wake. Since 2010, he’s tightened his grip, rewriting election laws, silencing media, and chipping away at civil liberties with a kind of slow-motion precision.
But in 2025, something shifted.
The government’s decision to ban Budapest’s annual LGBTQ+ Pride parade was meant to be a show of power. Instead, it ignited a movement. Every Tuesday, crowds now spill into the streets of the capital—not just waving flags, but reclaiming their right to exist in a country that’s increasingly trying to erase them.
“They’re not banning a parade,” said one protester, standing defiantly among the marchers. “They’re banning who we are.”
What started as a response to one decision has grown into a loud, visible defiance of Orbán’s entire regime. And it’s drawing global attention.
The Orbán-Trump Connection
In the United States, Orbán’s methods haven’t just gone unnoticed—they’ve been admired. Donald Trump and his inner circle have repeatedly pointed to Hungary as a model for the kind of authoritarian-lite governance they aspire to: dismantle the free press, paint political opponents as enemies of the state, and chip away at electoral legitimacy—all while flying the flag of patriotism.
The parallels are jarring. And the blueprint is being replicated.
As one political analyst put it bluntly: “Hungary isn’t flirting with autocracy. It’s there. And others are taking notes.”
A Shaky Road to Change
Despite the regime’s iron-fisted control, hope hasn’t vanished. Opposition parties are gaining traction, and protests are becoming harder to ignore. But few in Hungary believe the 2026 election will be fair.
“They’ll change the rules if they need to,” said opposition MP Martin Tomposh. “That’s their strategy.”
And still, people show up. “We’re not waiting to be told it’s our time,” said a young activist at a recent demonstration. “We’re making it our time.”
Lessons from Budapest
Hungary’s struggle isn’t just about one country. It’s a cautionary tale for democracies everywhere.
What happens when institutions are slowly hollowed out from within? When the architecture of democracy remains, but the soul is gone? For Hungarians, this isn’t a theory—it’s the daily grind of navigating life under a government that no longer bothers to pretend it represents everyone.
“We’ve been in the streets for 15 years,” said one longtime protester. “Sometimes it feels like shouting into the void. But giving up would mean surrendering the future. And that’s not an option.”
Around the world, the message from Hungary is ringing loud: autocracy doesn’t just arrive with tanks and coups—it sneaks in wearing a suit and a smile. But resistance, even in the darkest moments, is still possible.
The world is watching. The only question is—who’s willing to act before it’s their turn to fight back?
Copyright 2025 FN, NewsRoom.
