The well-known 22-year-old rap artist has gained such extensive popularity — pulling off three consecutive sold-out shows at the most prominent stadium in Hungary — that even Prime Minister Viktor Orban, a staunch advocate of conventional principles not typically aligned with the younger generation or its culture, declares himself a supporter.

The Prime Minister has expressed his fondness for the track specifically titledRampapapam,” a reggae-infused tribute to the delights of marijuana. This selection comes as a surprising revelation given the prime minister’s traditional beliefs, sparking speculations about whether he genuinely listened to it or merely viewed the accompanying music video featuring the artist engaging in a soccer game, the PM’s favored sport.

Nevertheless, Attila Bauko, a Hungarian sensation better recognized as Azahriah, has amassed such an ardent following in Hungary that Mr. Orban, reigning for 14 years, seems keen on absorbing some of the rapper’s liveliness and allure.

“Seeing the significant public appeal towards me, it appears they desire to establish a friendly rapport,” Azahriah remarked in an interview backstage preceding a concert at the Puskas Arena last month, a sports venue in Budapest that drew close to 50,000 attendees every night across the three performances.

The official acknowledgment “could be considered flattering,” Azahriah expressed, “but it feels peculiar and awkward” considering that a large portion of his youthful admirers despise the ruling Fidesz party.

When tickets for his recent concert series instantaneously sold out upon release in October, the PM’s office exhibited the musician’s likeness alongside a “sold out” label in a TikTok video promoting one of the prime minister’s speeches.

The video was subsequently removed following a surge of online ridicule. Azahriah managed to sell 138,800 tickets online while just a few thousand individuals turned up to listen to Mr. Orban revisit his well-known arguments against the European Union.

Azahriah initially grabbed public attention a decade ago when, at 12 years old, he initiated a YouTube channel. Despite occasionally strumming the guitar, his content mainly comprised spoken narratives that captivated a youthful audience with tales of his struggles at a school in Ujpalota, a modest district in Budapest featuring Communist-era concrete residential buildings.

His personal narrative struck a chord. Raised mainly by his mother, a Hungarian military officer, following his parents’ divorce, while his father relocated to Germany for employment as a mechanic, mirroring the path taken by numerous disillusioned Hungarians seeking better opportunities abroad.

He soared to showbiz stardom upon adopting the moniker Azahriah, a biblical name connoting being “assisted by God,” and in 2020, joining forces with Desh, an already established artist, to produce his inaugural hit, “Meadow.” His debut album, “I’m Worse,” featured predominantly English tracks.

He later transitioned to Hungarian and “Hunglish,” a fusion of both languages, complemented by intermittent Spanish and Roma phrases.

His meteoric ascent to the pinnacle of the Hungarian music charts — an accomplishment that saw him claim four of the top five spots on Spotify’s local most-streamed chart earlier this month — occurred so swiftly that mental health professionals, called upon by Hungarian media outlets to decipher the phenomenon, referred to it as a form of “mass hysteria.”

Gergely Toth, Azahriah’s agent, recollected the initial days of signing Azahriah three years ago when he operated as a niche artist performing at gigs for audiences of 1,500.

“I find it challenging to articulate what transpired, even though I am deeply ingrained in this entire ordeal,” Mr. Toth remarked. “People cheer for him reminiscent of their enthusiasm for Hungary’s national football team.”

Despite this, Azahriah’s aspirations of representing his nation in the Eurovision Song Contest, Europe’s musical equivalent of the World Cup, were dashed by political hindrances. In 2020, authorities terminated Hungary’s involvement in the annual competition, apprehensive of Eurovision’s image as Europe’s leading LGBTQ+-themed event.

“It would have been a remarkable achievement if I had secured victory at Eurovision as a heterosexual Caucasian male,” Azahriah remarked.

David Sajo, the entertainment editor at Telex, a renowned Hungarian digital media platform, admitted to not being an avid fan of Azahriah; nonetheless, he lauded the artist for broadening Hungary’s musical spectrum through his blend of Afrobeat, Caribbean ska, Latin influences, and other styles that are “rather rudimentary and commonplace in the Western world but distinctive within our realm.”

Mr. Sajo asserted that Azahriah’s breakthrough moment transpired in 2022 amidst a scandal that might have spelled doom for numerous other careers. Following a performance at a provincial pancake festival, a video surfaced online showing the artist engaging in intimate activities with a female admirer backstage.

“Suddenly, his name dominated headlines day after day across gossip columns, mainstream newspapers, and various online platforms,” Mr. Sajo remarked. “Prior to that, he simply existed as another Gen-Z celebrity, but post-incident, he metamorphosed into an A-list sensation revered nationwide.”

Azahriah acknowledged the incident as shameful but conceded that “it amplified my popularity.”

His most devout followers are youthful women like Luca Szeles, a 20-year-old hailing from a small town in northern Hungary pursuing studies to become a preschool educator. Luca secured tickets for all three recent concerts, braving the night on the pavement outside Puskas Arena to secure a prominent spot at the entrance.

She articulated how she resonates with Azahriah unlike any other artist, even Taylor Swift, whom she also admires, attributing it to his portrayal of “genuine elements from my personal life” in his lyrics — like his reflections in one track on his upbringing in Ujpalota.

She revealed that she had followed his YouTube channel for years but became captivated in 2021, upon the release of “Mind1,” a melancholic melody performed with Desh. Recalling a challenging period in her personal life, she found resonance in the lyrics “each evening you anticipate the future, but deep down, you understand it will remain unchanged.”

His audience comprises not only younger fans but also older individuals, such as Julia Bakos, a 50-year-old economist, who brought her 10-year-old son to a recent show. While she traditionally favored bands like Depeche Mode from the 1980s and Hungaria from the Communist era, she was captivated by Azahriah’s versatile musical style that caters to diverse tastes and transcends language barriers.

In contrast to many celebrities, she noted that “he appears to possess a sense of integrity” by attempting to bridge gaps between political ideologies and age groups.

At a recent performance, he acknowledged that some fans desired him to delve more into political topics, but he stated that was not his responsibility.

His occasional political engagements have largely steered clear of personal attacks, focusing instead on his dismay at what he termed as Hungary’s “hostile environment” created by deeply divided political factions.

“Musicians are not mandated to discuss politics,” he remarked. “It’s acceptable to remain silent if you have no opinions. However, in a democratic nation, remaining silent out of fear for your career is not acceptable. We are not in Russia.”

In February, he added his voice to the chorus of public dissatisfaction regarding the pardon of an individual found guilty of concealing child abuse at a residential care facility. This incident led to the resignation of the Hungarian president, Katalin Novak, a staunch supporter of Mr. Orban.

“There are certain matters that transcend mere ethics, and those are beyond my tolerance,” he remarked.

A few of Mr. Orban’s supporters attempted to discredit his involvement by resurrecting a past scandal and portraying him as a perpetrator of sexual misconduct. However, this tactic was swiftly abandoned, only serving to bolster public support for the musician.

“Azahriah is among the individuals in Hungary that Fidesz cannot undermine,” remarked Mr. Sajo, the entertainment editor. “They understand he is too popular to mess with.”

Balazs Levai, a filmmaker currently working on a project about the artist, struggled to grasp Azahriah’s charm, eventually concluding that “he resembles a figure from a Hungarian folklore — somebody who emerges from obscurity to become a revered figure for all.”