IN MOST countries the constitution is above the everyday horse-trading of domestic politics and parliament's yah-boo posturing. It is a document around which the nation can unite, a set of fundamental principles which articulates a consensual national vision.

Not here in Hungary. As expected, yesterday the parliament approved the new basic law, the final stage of an unedifying process that showed the country's warring political tribes at their petulant worst.

The constitution certainly needed an overhaul: it was a legal goulash, with some parts dating from the imposition of the communist dictatorship in 1949, others from its collapse in 1990 and others still introduced last year by the ruling right-of-centre party Fidesz. Writing in the Wall Street Journal today, Tibor Navracsics, the deputy prime minister, points out that Hungary is the only eastern European country not to have revised its constitution since the end of communism.

Fidesz won yesterday's vote by 262 to 44. The far-right Jobbik party voted against. But where were the main opposition Socialists and LMP (a green-liberal party)? Sulking. Just as they have been since last autumn, when they walked out of the consultative process. Both parties had demanded a referendum on the constitution, but the government refused. Fidesz argues that its overwhelming election victory last April gives it all the mandate it needs. In any case, it said, there is no constitutional provision for referendums (although given the government's habit of rewriting the legal rules at will, it surely could have found a way to organise one).

József Szajer, a Fidesz MEP who wrote much of the new constitution on his now-famous iPad, said that the opposition had abnegated their responsibility to voters by refusing to take part. He had a point. It is the job of an opposition to oppose; LMP, especially, could have had some impact on the drafting process and won concessions. The government knows opposition participation would have granted greater legitimacy to the process and to the final draft.

Yet, arguably, Fidesz has only itself to blame. Since it came to power it has sought to marginalise the opposition—especially the previously governing Socialists—at every turn and to cement its own grip on formerly independent institutions, or to invent new ones (such as the media authority, all of whose members were in effect nominated by Fidesz).

The most recent example was the ill-fated Committee for Geographical Names, which was dissolved by government decree and reconstituted in emaciated form for daring to take on the government over the naming of Budapest's airport. This kind of control-freakery over an anodyne issue does not inspire confidence that the government welcomes independent input from outsiders.

The new constitution itself is a mixed bag. Fidesz's base will be kept happy by a strong emphasis on Christianity, the holy crown, the definition of marriage as a union of a man and a woman and repeated references to Hungary's historical constitution. The document pledges to preserve the environment and biodiversity. Human trafficking and all forms of discrimination are outlawed. Public debt will be limited to 50% of GDP. The name "Hungary" replaces the "Hungarian Republic". The constitution also opens the door for ethnic Hungarians living abroad to get the vote, which will likely cause ructions with neighbouring states, especially Slovakia.

The consultative process launched last summer involved the distribution of 8m questionnaires (of which about 900,000 were returned) and input from various NGOs. But parliament was given only a month to discuss the constitution. Mr Navracsics called in the Venice Commission—which advises the EU on constitutional matters—to give its opinion. It said that the government had shown a lack of transparency, had failed to consult adequately with the opposition and had rushed the whole process. So despite all the talk of a bright new dawn, in parliament, at least, it's still business as usual.