标签： Europe

Hungary’s national parliament has elected 73-year-old András Baka, a veteran legal figure and former Supreme Court president, to serve as the country’s new head of state, capping a period of rapid political upheaval following the end of former Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s long tenure.

While the Hungarian presidency is formally a largely ceremonial role, Baka’s term is set to be defined by high-stakes tasks at the core of the new government’s agenda: overseeing Prime Minister Péter Magyar’s administration’s push to dismantle the sprawling interconnected economic and political network built by Orbán during his years in power, and steering the process of drafting a new national constitution to replace the 2011 constitution enacted under Orbán’s government.

Following his landslide election victory, which saw him secure 140 votes against just 6 opposing votes, Baka used his first address to parliament to reject a politics of retribution. “We cannot build the new Hungary on revenge,” he told assembled legislators. “The majority of society now feels a sense of liberation and hope. Others feel disappointment and uncertainty. In a democratic society, this is not an anomaly, but a natural state of affairs.”

All 51 members of parliament from Orbán’s Fidesz party boycotted the vote, walking out of the chamber in protest of the removal of their preferred candidate, Tamás Sulyok, from the presidency last month. The move marks the latest chapter of friction between the new governing coalition and Fidesz, which has already faced sweeping institutional changes from the Magyar administration that took office in early May.

Since assuming power, the new government has moved at breakneck speed to roll back Orbán-era policies. It has already passed 27 new laws and ratified two constitutional amendments, canceled all the national states of emergency that Orbán leveraged to rule by decree—covering migration, COVID-19, and the war in Ukraine—and abolished the controversial Sovereignty Protection Office, which Fidesz repeatedly used to target independent journalists and non-governmental organizations critical of the previous government.

In its place, the administration created the National Asset Recovery and Protection Office, which has been granted broad authority to investigate and prosecute individuals accused of embezzling state funds during Orbán’s tenure. Fidesz has hit back at these changes, accusing the new Tisza-led government of establishing what it calls a “tyranny.” This criticism carries a sharp irony, however: Fidesz itself removed Baka from his post as Supreme Court president back in 2011, when he pushed back against the party’s efforts to weaken judicial independence and undermine the rule of law.

Another major institutional shift already underway is the overhaul of public service media. Public radio and television outlets have been off air since July 9, as the government overhauls their news programming to undo their transformation into Fidesz-era government propaganda outlets, with the stated goal of restoring full editorial independence to public media.

Two key constitutional amendments, numbered 16 and 17, have also reshaped Hungary’s political rules: they impose a two-term limit on sitting prime ministers and a three-term limit for members of parliament, while also restoring the Constitutional Court’s authority to review acts of parliament— a power that Fidesz stripped from the court during its time in power.

Despite Baka’s selection by the governing majority, the new president is not expected to be a rubber-stamp for the administration’s agenda. In a pre-election interview with the BBC, Baka openly stated his opposition to parliamentary term limits, arguing that they improperly intrude on the right of voters to freely select their own representatives.

Baka brings decades of international judicial experience to the role: he spent 17 years serving as Hungary’s judge to the European Court of Human Rights based in Strasbourg. Framing his entry into the presidency as rooted in legal principle rather than partisan ambition, Baka told the BBC last month: “I am not a political man. I got involved in politics through my professional, legal way of thinking.”

Baka is widely understood to be a transitional president. The constitutional amendment that created space for his appointment stipulates that a new head of state will be selected once the new constitution enters into force, with his maximum term capped at five years.

In his closing remarks to parliament on Tuesday, Baka made clear he would challenge Hungary’s longstanding cultural tendency toward reliance on strongman leadership. “The state is not there for itself,” he said. “It is there for the people.”

After four decades of violent insurgency that left thousands dead across southeastern Turkey, a landmark piece of legislation aimed at ending long-running conflict between the Turkish state and the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) has cleared parliament, triggering a complex mix of relief, optimism and unresolved concern among residents of the country’s majority-Kurdish southeastern region.

Lawmakers cast overwhelming votes in favor of the conditional pardon bill on Monday, a core step in advancing the ongoing peace process launched after the PKK announced last year it would lay down its arms. The legislation will not enter into force immediately: it only takes effect once Turkish authorities confirm the PKK has completed full disarmament, a key condition set by the state.

The bill outlines a clear framework for qualifying militants: it suspends prison sentences for convicted PKK members and pauses ongoing investigations and trials for other suspects for periods of five to 10 years, with the length determined by the severity of alleged offenses. If recipients do not commit any additional terror-linked crimes during the waiting period, all charges against them will be dismissed entirely. Turkish media estimates thousands of militants could benefit from the policy, including members based in exile across Europe, as well as those stationed in Iraq and Syria. Notable exceptions are militants convicted of intentional murder and those handed life sentences before 2005, a group that includes PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan and other senior figures of the organization.

The PKK first launched its insurgency in 1980s, originally seeking to establish an independent Kurdish state in southeastern Turkey. Over decades of conflict, the group shifted its goals to demanding greater autonomy and expanded rights for Turkey’s Kurdish population, which makes up an estimated 15 to 20 percent of the country’s total population. Last year, responding to a call from Ocalan—who has been imprisoned since 1999—the PKK announced it would dissolve the organization, held a symbolic disarmament ceremony at its base in northern Iraq, and withdrew its remaining fighters from Turkish territory to northern Iraq.

In Diyarbakir, the largest city in southeastern Turkey, local residents greeted the parliamentary vote with cautious optimism rooted in decades of unfulfilled hopes for peace. Many voiced expectation that the end of violence would unlock long-stalled economic growth for the region, which has long lagged behind the rest of Turkey in development and prosperity.

Seventy-year-old retired resident Ali Akdogan called the vote a moment of personal joy. “I was really very happy. I even applauded the result in my own home,” he said. “The economy will improve, good things will happen, people will start doing business. I believe it will bring peace. Since the peace process began, we haven’t had any conflict-related deaths, and this conflict killed thousands of civilians, soldiers and militants over more than 40 years.”

Hasan Gecti, a 56-year-old shop owner in Diyarbakir, agreed that an end to violence would bring tangible economic and social benefits to local communities, but warned that core political demands of Turkey’s Kurdish population remain unaddressed by the pardon bill. Kurds have long pushed for expanded rights including broader access to Kurdish-language education and public services, as well as greater political autonomy, including an end to the central government’s policy of removing locally elected Kurdish mayors and replacing them with state-appointed administrators.

“Has the Kurdish issue been directly solved? That’s a bit of a question mark,” Gecti said. “In my opinion, only the terrorism problem has been solved. Unfortunately, the Kurdish issue still remains where it is.”

Local business leaders echoed this nuanced perspective. Mehmet Kaya, head of the Diyarbakir Chamber of Trade and Industry, welcomed the broad parliamentary support for the bill as a positive signal for the region. “It signals that violence is ending and the doors of politics are opening,” he noted. But Kaya emphasized the legislation alone cannot resolve decades of political tension, adding that further targeted reforms are needed to build lasting peace.

“If the step taken now leads to sustainable democratization, and the social and economic policies the region expects are put in place, then the region will enter an important new phase,” Kaya said.

The PKK itself offered a similarly mixed assessment in a statement published Monday by the PKK-linked ANF news agency. The group framed the legislation as a “beginning” toward resolving outstanding disputes between the PKK and the Turkish state, but criticized the bill for “serious shortcomings and deficiencies.” The PKK repeated its core demands, including the immediate release of Ocalan from prison, the implementation of broad democratic reforms, and formal recognition of expanded Kurdish rights.

France has enacted a landmark policy banning all unsolicited telemarketing cold calls from commercial businesses, a reform that consumer advocates are celebrating as a transformative win for personal privacy while triggering backlash from industry groups and raising economic alarms in neighboring Morocco.

The new regulation, which took effect on Tuesday, applies to companies across all economic sectors, though it carves out limited exceptions: cold calls remain legal only when the outreach relates to an existing active contract between the business and the consumer, or when the recipient has explicitly given prior written consent to receive marketing communications.

Leading French consumer advocacy organization Que Choisir Ensemble has framed the policy change as a long-overdue “small revolution” for household privacy and consumer rights. In an official statement, the group emphasized that the right to quiet privacy in one’s own home is non-negotiable, arguing that it was past time to end the constant bombardment of consumers with unwanted sales outreach. Group president Marie-Amandine Stévenin noted that intrusive consumer solicitation has become pervasive across all spaces, from in-person street pitches to online platforms, leaving people with little reprieve from constant demands to spend. Stévenin added that the organization has spent years pushing to end the widespread default assumption that any person in their private life is an automatic potential sales target. “This is a victory for consumers, the vast majority of whom do not want to receive sales calls,” she said.

Data from a 2025 French parliamentary report underscores the widespread public anger that prompted the reform: 97% of French adults report being annoyed by unsolicited telemarketing calls, a level of cross-demographic consensus that report authors called “one of those rare issues that unites people in France.” The survey also found that 72% of French consumers receive at least one unwanted marketing call to their mobile phone every week, with 38% saying they get such calls on a daily basis.

Not all stakeholders have welcomed the change, however. France’s direct-selling industry has pushed back against the new rules, with Frédéric Billon, head of the Fédération de la Vente Directe (FVD), France’s primary direct-selling trade group, criticizing the reforms for placing new heavy administrative burdens on small and large businesses alike. “You’ll have to obtain written consent from your customer, and you’ll also have to keep proof of that consent,” Billon told the *New York Times*, arguing that the added red tape will raise operational costs for firms across the country.

The biggest economic fallout is projected outside France’s borders, in Morocco, where the country’s large call center industry is heavily dependent on contracts serving the French telemarketing market. Local Moroccan newspaper *Le Matin* reports that one Moroccan government minister estimates the new French restrictions could lead to as many as 50,000 job losses in Morocco’s outsourced call center sector.

France is not the first European country to restrict cold calling: Germany, Austria and Italy already have strict limits on unsolicited telemarketing outreach. By contrast, the United Kingdom maintains a more permissive framework, where most telemarketing calls remain legal as long as the recipient has not opted out by adding their number to the national do-not-call register.

In a landmark step for Hungary’s new governing administration, the country’s national parliament voted Tuesday to confirm András Baka, a former chief justice of the Hungarian Supreme Court with a long history of pushing back against Viktor Orbán’s autocratic rule, as the nation’s new president. The vote caps weeks of political negotiation to remove an Orbán-era holdover from the presidency and advances the new government’s sweeping campaign to dismantle power structures built during Orbán’s 16 years in office.

Lawmakers from the ruling Tisza party, led by newly installed Prime Minister Peter Magyar, cast 140 votes in favor of Baka’s confirmation and just six against in a closed secret ballot, with no abstentions. Orbán’s far-right Fidesz party, which held power for more than a decade before Tisza’s landslide April election victory, boycotted the entire voting process. Baka is scheduled to be formally sworn into office on August 19.

While Hungary’s presidency is a largely ceremonial position, it carries meaningful legislative checks: the office holds the authority to send proposed legislation back to parliament for reconsideration or challenge bills before the Constitutional Court for judicial review. Baka’s ascension to the post follows a months-long power struggle to remove his predecessor, Tamás Sulyok, an Orbán nominee who retained his seat after refusing to step down at Magyar’s request. Tisza ultimately resolved the standoff by passing a constitutional amendment to end Sulyok’s term, which he reluctantly signed into law in July.

Magyar’s administration, which took office in May, has moved rapidly to dismantle what it labels Orbán’s “mafia state” by removing hundreds of political appointees and institutional leaders tied to the former prime minister’s government. Key changes so far include suspending the public television and radio news service — which Magyar has described as a state-run propaganda outlet for Fidesz — shutting down the Sovereignty Protection Office, a body widely criticized by Orbán’s opponents as a tool to intimidate government critics and silence independent media. The new government has also passed sweeping judicial reforms, established a special task force to investigate allegations of financial corruption and abuse during Orbán’s tenure, and imposed strict new term limits: 12 years for members of parliament and an eight-year cap for the office of prime minister.

Magyar’s government has framed these sweeping changes as a necessary step to restore democratic norms and institutional integrity that eroded significantly over 16 years of Fidesz rule. In response, Orbán and Fidesz have attacked the new administration’s policies as “tyrannical,” a claim that Magyar and Tisza have repeatedly rejected.

In remarks delivered to parliament shortly after his election was confirmed, Baka criticized the record of Orbán’s four consecutive governments, identifying deep social and political polarization as one of the most urgent challenges facing the country after the former leader’s long tenure. While the new president acknowledged that past cases of illegal activity and financial misuse must be properly investigated and prosecuted to repair democratic institutions, he emphasized that Hungary’s political transition cannot be rooted in retaliation.

“This country cannot build a common future while its citizens see each other as enemies,” Baka told lawmakers. “Political change should not mean that from now on people will have to be afraid, be silent, or feel like outsiders in their own country.”

Baka, 74, brings decades of legal and judicial experience to the presidency. He served as a judge on the European Court of Human Rights from 1991 to 2008, before taking on the role of chief justice of the Hungarian Supreme Court in 2009. His relationship with Orbán’s government turned bitter early, when he was removed from the Supreme Court post three years before his term was set to end. Baka challenged his dismissal at the European Court of Human Rights, which ruled in 2014 that Orbán’s government had violated Baka’s legal rights, finding his removal was directly tied to his public criticism of the administration’s controversial judicial reforms. Outside of his judicial work, Baka has also served as a visiting professor and lecturer at multiple prominent U.S. universities, including the University of Virginia, the University of California at Berkeley, and Columbia University.

For every Israeli prime minister, few responsibilities carry more weight than navigating the delicate dual challenge of preserving Washington’s unwavering support while pushing back against U.S. demands that are viewed as threatening Israeli national security. No leader in Israel’s modern history has pulled off this precarious balancing act for longer than Benjamin Netanyahu, the country’s longest-serving head of government. But with the ongoing conflict with Iran locked in a stalemate and U.S. President Donald Trump prioritizing winding down regional tensions ahead of American congressional elections, Netanyahu’s political tightrope walk has grown exponentially more difficult — and it is unfolding just three months before Israel’s national elections.

On Sunday, Netanyahu formally rejected Trump’s latest proposal to break the deadlock on a long-stalled ceasefire in the Gaza Strip. In his statement, the prime minister made clear that Israeli forces would not withdraw from any part of the roughly 60 percent of Gaza that it currently controls until Hamas, the militant faction that governs the remaining 40 percent of the enclave, is fully and completely disarmed — a condition Hamas has rejected consistently for years.

The rejection puts Netanyahu in a risky political bind: defying the same U.S. president he has repeatedly called the strongest ally Israel has ever had in the White House could erode the bilateral relationship he has long leaned on for political capital. Yet any public hint of compromise on the disarmament demand would almost certainly be fatal to his reelection bid, in a nation still reeling from the traumatic Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack that occurred on Netanyahu’s watch.

For Trump, the standoff comes as he faces mounting pressure to deliver on his self-styled reputation as a global peacemaker. With nuclear talks with Iran stalled and global energy prices remaining elevated ahead of November’s U.S. congressional elections, the Trump administration needs visible progress on regional de-escalation. Trump’s latest Gaza proposal builds on a ceasefire framework he announced last fall, which paused large-scale Israeli military operations and secured the release of all remaining Israeli hostages held by Hamas, but has failed to move toward a permanent peace agreement.

Under the terms of the new plan, Hamas would surrender its weapons in a phased process, in exchange for a permanent end to Israeli strikes and a gradual withdrawal of Israeli forces from Gaza. Hamas has already accepted the framework, though it has tied the surrender of its heavy weaponry to the formal establishment of an independent Palestinian state — a concession that Netanyahu’s far-right-led government and the vast majority of Israel’s political establishment reject outright.

Netanyahu’s refusal to accept the plan puts all other elements of the ceasefire proposal on indefinite hold, including the deployment of an international peacekeeping force and the start of reconstruction for the Gaza Strip, which has been left devastated by months of conflict. Data from Gaza’s Health Ministry shows that more than 1,250 people have been killed in Israeli strikes since the initial October ceasefire took effect, though Israeli military activity has eased in recent days.

Israeli media reports have indicated that the authority to approve new strikes in Gaza has been restricted exclusively to the Israeli army’s chief of staff, a quiet, unpublicized concession to Trump’s ceasefire push. The Israeli military declined to confirm or deny the report when contacted for comment. A senior official with the Board of Peace, the Trump-led body tasked with overseeing the ceasefire process, spoke to the Associated Press on condition of anonymity, saying that while progress has been incremental, there have been tangible gains on the ground.

“We are focused on actions, not rhetoric or politics,” the official said. “There have been some results on the ground in the last few days, including restraint from strikes and new Israeli military procedures. There is constructive cooperation behind the scenes and our conversations continue.”

As the election campaign heats up, the legacy of the Oct. 7 attack hangs over every political calculation Netanyahu makes. On the campaign trail, he has leaned heavily on highlighting Israeli military gains from the wars that followed the 2023 attack: Israeli forces have seized large swathes of territory across Gaza, southern Lebanon and Syria, and launched two major air campaigns targeting Iran’s military and its disputed nuclear program. But the “total victory” Netanyahu promised over Hamas in Gaza has yet to materialize, and a large share of the Israeli public continues to hold him directly responsible for the massive security failures that allowed the Oct. 7 attack to occur. Critics have also pointed to his past policy of allowing Qatar to deliver cash payments to Gaza, a strategy intended to appease Hamas that many now argue directly helped the group rearm.

Netanyahu’s rejection of Trump’s plan has been enthusiastically embraced by his far-right coalition partners, who are expected to play a critical role in any new government he forms after the election. Jonathan Lis, diplomatic correspondent for leading Israeli newspaper Haaretz, noted that Trump’s priority is advancing tangible steps to rebuild Gaza, but Netanyahu’s vulnerable election position and the demands of his right-wing allies leave him unwilling to make even the smallest concession.

Ghaith al-Omari, a former Palestinian negotiator and now a senior fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, explained that even if the White House chooses to overlook Netanyahu’s rejection, Trump cannot move the plan forward without convincing the Israeli prime minister to reverse course. In al-Omari’s assessment, Hamas has already emerged from the standoff with a strategic PR win, positioning itself as the more reasonable party in the conflict.

Trump’s standing among Israeli voters has shifted noticeably in recent months, as his policy priorities have diverged from Netanyahu’s. During Trump’s first term in office, he enjoyed widespread popularity in Israel, thanks to unprecedented pro-Israel moves including moving the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. That popularity held steady early in his second term, when he backed Israel’s military campaign in Gaza and joined Israel in bombing strikes on Iran. For Netanyahu, the close alliance with Trump was a major political asset, helping to shore up his domestic standing at a time when his political future was very much in doubt.

But the two leaders’ strategic interests diverged sharply last spring. Netanyahu pushed for continued military strikes against Iran and the Hezbollah militant group in Lebanon, while Trump prioritized winding down regional conflicts to reopen the Strait of Hormuz, a critical global energy chokepoint, and ease economic pressure on global markets. Since the rift opened, Trump has said he would “likely” endorse Netanyahu ahead of the Israeli election, but has not yet issued a formal full endorsement. While a U.S. president’s endorsement still carries weight in Israeli politics, the public rift between the two leaders is complicating Netanyahu’s campaign.

Yohanan Plesner, president of the Jerusalem-based Israel Democracy Institute think tank, noted that just a few months ago, a large majority of Israelis believed Trump prioritized Israeli security interests when making policy decisions. “This is no longer the case,” Plesner said. The once-close relationship between Netanyahu and Trump “used to be an asset, but not anymore.”

Netanyahu has a long track record of defying sitting U.S. presidents, particularly Democratic chief executives. During his first term in office in the late 1990s, he resisted Bill Clinton’s efforts to broker a permanent peace deal with the Palestinians. In 2015, he clashed publicly with Barack Obama over the landmark Iran nuclear deal. But political analysts warn that defying Trump now carries far greater risks than past standoffs with U.S. leaders. Israel’s aggressive regional military campaigns have left it increasingly diplomatically isolated across the globe, and eroded its longstanding bipartisan support among U.S. voters, leaving Trump as one of Israel’s few remaining high-level powerful allies in Washington.

Plesner argues that Netanyahu’s dependence on Trump is “tremendous,” and Israeli voters will punish the prime minister if he is seen as mismanaging the critical bilateral relationship. “If Trump will insist on carrying on, I think Netanyahu will have no choice but to tag along rather than take on the president, since he’s left Israel with very few diplomatic cards to maneuver,” Plesner said.

Associated Press writers Sam Mednick in Tel Aviv, Israel, and Matthew Lee in Washington contributed to this report.

On the sun-kissed coast of eastern England, the quiet seaside town of Clacton is hosting one of the most surreal special elections in modern British political history. What began as a political gamble by Nigel Farage, the firebrand leader of anti-immigration party Reform UK and a long-time ally of former U.S. President Donald Trump, has turned into a contest that upends every expectation of how British elections work.

For nearly 20 years, Farage has built his entire political brand on positioning himself as an anti-establishment outsider, a plain-speaking populist who took on the elite to deliver Brexit, the defining political upheaval of 21st-century Britain. His charismatic, everyman persona—often described as “the bloke you’d have a pint with at the local pub”—fueled the 2016 Leave campaign’s unexpected referendum victory, and later shifted to galvanizing support around hardline policies on small boat migration across the English Channel. After eight failed attempts to win a seat in Parliament, Farage finally claimed Clacton, a deeply pro-Brexit constituency, in 2024.

But that victory brought unforeseen trouble: the scrutiny of public office that comes with being a lawmaker. Just months after taking his seat, Farage triggered a snap special election by resigning, amid growing awkward questions about his personal financial dealings and undeclared political donations. Farage framed the move as a chance for Clacton’s voters to deliver a verdict in a classic “people versus the establishment” showdown, but major parties across the political spectrum dismissed the election as a self-serving political stunt and refused to field candidates. That decision left an open field that defied all political norms.

Today, Farage—who has spent his career painting himself as an outsider taking on mainstream politics—finds himself cast as the prohibitive incumbent favorite, with his most high-profile opponent being Count Binface: a comedy candidate who portrays himself as a space alien with a trash can for a head, performed by comedian Jon Harvey. Farage is not laughing. He and his allies have framed Binface’s candidacy as yet another plot by the political establishment to undermine him, with Reform UK board member and former Farage press officer Gawain Towler claiming the establishment is using “every means available, fair and foul” to discredit the Reform leader before voters cast their ballots.

Count Binface, a veteran of joke British elections, has centered his entire platform on the contrast with Farage, with a key pledge that he “will not accept 5-million-pound gifts from crypto billionaires (on Earth)”—a clear jab at the controversies that sparked the election. Farage is currently under investigation by Britain’s parliamentary standards watchdog over an undeclared £5 million ($6.7 million) donation received in 2024 from Thailand-based cryptocurrency billionaire Christopher Harborne. Farage defends the transaction, arguing the sum was a personal gift to fund his personal security received before he took office, and thus not required to be declared under parliamentary rules, which mandate disclosure of gifts over £300 ($400) tied to political activity for incoming lawmakers.

A second investigation is also ongoing into Farage’s financial ties to George Cottrell, a 32-year-old aristocratic crypto and gambling entrepreneur who served eight months in a U.S. prison a decade ago after pleading guilty to fraud charges connected to a proposed money laundering scheme with undercover agents posing as drug traffickers. Cottrell remains a close ally of Farage, who has publicly stood by him, saying “I don’t ditch my allies” in comments from August 3. British media have reported that Cottrell and his mother have been interviewed by police as part of a broader probe into Reform UK donations, though no arrests have been made.

Beyond Binface, the Clacton ballot features 33 other candidates, ranging from single-issue pro-Rejoin EU campaigners to representatives of the long-running Official Monster Raving Loony Party, making it one of the most crowded candidate fields in recent British electoral history. While most political analysts predict Farage will win the seat comfortably, as he did in the 2024 general election, the outcome of the vote carries far broader implications for British politics than a single parliamentary seat.

If Farage secures victory, the parliamentary investigations into his finances will immediately resume. A finding of wrongdoing could result in his suspension from Parliament and force yet another special election for the constituency. For Reform UK, which has led national opinion polls for more than a year and currently holds just seven parliamentary seats (eight if Farage retains Clacton), the election comes at a tense moment for the party. After a long stretch of leading national polling, Reform has suffered a string of recent defeats in special elections, including a June loss that saw Labour’s Andy Burnham elected prime minister. Farage’s party is also facing pressure from multiple sides: Labour is enjoying a post-Burnham polling boost, Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch has stabilized her party after a rocky start, and the far-right Restore Britain party, which holds one seat and enjoys amplified social media reach via Elon Musk, is chipping away at Reform’s right-wing base.

Political analysts note that Farage’s greatest political strength has always been his charismatic outsider persona, but that same image has now created a trap for him. “It’s that very charismatic aspect of Farage that is both his strength and his weakness,” explained Simon Usherwood, professor of politics and international studies at the Open University. “He has fallen into a trap of thinking that he is somehow immune from the kind of scrutiny that would undo other politicians.”

There is also the long-running question of Farage’s commitment to holding office: the 62-year-old politician has a history of stepping down from the parties he founded, having resigned from both the UK Independence Party and its successor, the Brexit Party, over the past decade. Outside of his parliamentary salary, Farage has earned more than £2 million ($2.7 million) in the past two years from speaking engagements, media appearances, and promotional work—far outstripping his income as a lawmaker—leading to speculation he could walk away from politics again if the financial scrutiny continues to mount.

Martin Farr, a contemporary historian at Newcastle University, noted that regardless of the final vote count, the election will reinforce the existing perceptions of Farage among both supporters and opponents. “To his supporters, this will be an example of how he’s fearless and he’s prepared to fight against, as he will put it, the tyranny of the majority, the tyranny of the establishment,” Farr said. “To his opponents, it suggests a thin-skinned demagogue who has reacted petulantly to scrutiny and has been embarrassed by the fact that no one else has taken his stand seriously.”