In a development that has left the gin supplies of this correspondent pleasantly depleted, Budapest has held its first Pride parade since the departure of Viktor Orban from power. Yes, the same Orban who turned Hungary into a cautionary tale about the perils of illiberal democracy, a sort of political Fanta with a dark aftertaste. Now, with the old patriarch gone, the streets of Budapest have erupted in a riot of colour, dignity, and the faint but unmistakable smell of burning ideology.
It is a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, like watching a daisy push through a crack in a nuclear bunker. And who led the charge? Who stood at the vanguard of this rainbow-hued renaissance?
Why, Britain, of course. That bastion of good sense, that island of eccentric decency, that nation which brings you both Pimm's and a surprising capacity for moral leadership when the chips are down. The UK’s delegation, presumably fuelled by a crisp Sauvignon Blanc and a sense of national duty, pushed for a robust statement of European solidarity with LGBTQ+ rights.
It is a glorious inversion of the usual diplomatic script. Normally, Britain is the one being chided for its quirks. Here, it is the sober elder statesman, the one reminding the continent that human rights are not a la carte.
The parade itself was a triumph. Thousands marched, flags flew, and the ghost of Orban, presumably now haunting some secluded Alpine villa, must have shuddered. The new Hungarian government, still finding its feet, allowed the event to proceed without the usual state-sponsored harassment.
It is a small step for a parade, a giant leap for a country. This correspondent, perched on a bar stool in a surprisingly tolerant pub near the Chain Bridge, could only weep into his G&T. Not from sadness, you understand, but from the sheer, unvarnished beauty of it all.
For too long, Europe had been sliding into a moral malaise, where strongmen and their petty prejudices had been allowed to fester. Now, a chink of light. And it came from Budapest, of all places, with a British escort.
It is enough to make one believe in the possibility of progress. Or perhaps that is just the gin talking. Regardless, cheers to Budapest, cheers to love, and cheers to the UK for remembering what it stands for.
The future, for once, looks a little bit brighter. And a lot more colourful.
