Rome Bets on Tanks and Hungary — But Can Europe Trust Its Eastern Partner?

Rome’s plan to use EU “SAFE” loans for German-built tanks, in collaboration with Hungary, highlights both Italy’s ambition and the fragility of European defence, however Orbán’s Kremlin ties fuel scepticism.

Italy’s striking proposal to channel European Union “SAFE” defence loans into German‑built tanks and armored vehicles marks not just another weapons procurement decision, but a test of Europe’s ability to wield strategic autonomy in a fraught security environment. The gambit—if it succeeds—could reshape the balance of power within the EU, deepen alliances with unlikely partners like Hungary, and force a reckoning with the limits of collective defence frameworks.

The background is critical. Earlier this year the EU unveiled a €150 billion “SAFE” (Strategic Augmentation Fund for Europe) scheme: low‑cost loans intended to help member states beef up military capabilities as Russia presses the Eastern frontier. Under the terms, beneficiaries must commit by 30 November to explain how they intend to spend the funds; procurement must be joined with at least one other EU partner rather than conducted unilaterally.

Italy has been allocated around €14.9 billion in such loans, and is now weighing the deployment of that capital toward Panther main battle tanks and Lynx tracked armored vehicles from Germany’s Rheinmetall. The move would not be unilateral: Italy already shares an industrial collaboration with Hungary over the Lynx, and Hungary has independently committed to the Panther project.

If Italy uses its SAFE allocation in this way, it will satisfy the EU’s push for synergy (joint purchases) and demonstrate how national ambitions can be fused with European defence logic.

Political Calculus: Meloni, Orbán, and a Controversial Collaboration

What makes this proposal political dynamite—beyond its military logic—is the partner Italy is courting: Hungary. The visit by Hungary’s prime minister Viktor Orbán to Rome underscored the strategic overtures. The two leaders publicly discussed “synergies” in defence procurement, and privately explored leveraging their complementary industrial and technological strengths.

That alliance carries complications. Confidence in Hungary as a defence partner has been falling across the EU, particularly given Orbán’s close relationship with the Kremlin, which has prompted concerns over loyalty, reliability, and long-term strategic alignment. Partnering with Budapest risks political blowback in Brussels, where several member states already view Hungary as an unpredictable actor.

Yet for Rome, this is calculated risk. Partnering with Hungary helps satisfy the EU’s criteria for joint procurement, potentially lowers Italy’s costs, secures political cover, and creates a bloc of influence in Central Europe. It is also a diplomatic message: European defence must not be the preserve of the Franco‑German axis alone.

If Italy succeeds, it could be a turning point. The EU has long struggled to move from declarations and funds to deliverable capabilities. Projects like PESCO (Permanent Structured Cooperation) and EDF (European Defence Fund) have achieved incremental gains—but often stall on national interests and industrial protectionism.

Italy’s plan pushes the envelope: using the EU’s own defense financing mechanism to procure heavy firepower, while in effect aligning national doctrine with continental aims. If more states follow, a new era may dawn: one in which the EU is a true co‑producer of military capacity, not just a budgeter of soft security.

The risk, however, is fragmentation. The requirement that funds be used in joint acquisition is supposed to generate economies of scale and interoperability. But as Italy’s choice shows, partnerships may be dictated more by politics than strategy. Nations may cluster into duopolies or trilaterals—Italy and Hungary, say, or France and Spain—rather than forging a genuinely unified bloc.

Moreover, different threat perceptions across Europe complicate the picture. Southern states worry about North Africa and the Mediterranean; Baltic and Eastern states focus on Russian aggression. When states buy different platforms—even when funded by EU loans—compatibility and doctrine may diverge, undermining cohesion.

Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni’s conservative government has long committed to stronger defence posture. But fulfilling that pledge means navigating a minefield of domestic pressure, industrial constraints, and European diplomacy.

Italy plans to buy 1,050 Lynx variants, integrating a turret system from Italy’s Leonardo, while Hungary will build most of its Lynx orders domestically. Meanwhile Italy’s Panther commitment—272 units—would align with Hungary’s existing Rheinmetall deal.

To make this work, Rome must manage public perception (austerity, social needs, inflation), industrial partners’ demands, and the EU’s procurement oversight. Worse, if the SAFE funds are misused or decisions appear opaque, critics will cry foul: a national leader bending EU rules for party advantage.

Still, Italy may see it as a Catch‑22: either bite the bullet now and take the risk, or watch its defence capabilities erode while partners invest and drift ahead.

The Wider Consequence: Europe’s Defence Future in the Balance

Italy’s manoeuvre is more than national ambition—it is a litmus test for the EU’s future in defence. If SAFE loans can underwrite real heavy platforms, if political and industrial alignment can overcome fragmentation, and if smaller or mid‑size powers like Italy can emerge as credible military actors on their own terms, the EU may inch closer to strategic sovereignty.

Conversely, if the plan bogs down in politics or is dismissed by Brussels as overreach, it will reinforce the old order: the Franco‑German axis as de facto military architects, and others as clients or spectators.

In the worst case, the fragmentation persists, and Europe’s security remains reactive rather than proactive—dependent on NATO, the U.S., or bilateral bargains.

Italy’s proposal is audacious, idealistic, and laden with risk—but also entirely fitting for a turning point in European defence. The choice to use EU funds for tanks is not incremental; it signals Italy’s intention to play strategically in the 21st century. Its controversial partnership with Hungary is emblematic of the new alignments Europe may see in coming years—despite legitimate concerns over Budapest’s Kremlin ties and falling confidence in its reliability as a defence partner.

What matters now is execution. Italy must move swiftly to formalise its plans, secure industrial and political buy‑in, and convince Brussels that this is not a national sidestep but a building block for European strength. Success will require pragmatism, clarity of purpose, and the political courage to absorb criticism.

If Italy pulls this off, it could become the vanguard of a new European defence architecture. If it fails, it will be judged not only as a national misstep, but as another sign that Europe is still incapable of turning ambition into arms.