

The Hungarian Prime Minister, once a champion of European integration, has in recent years cultivated a posture that is increasingly at odds with the rest of the EU.
His refusal to back military support for Kyiv, his habit of watering down sanctions against Moscow, and his open scepticism of Ukraine’s EU membership have left him isolated but far from irrelevant.
At the heart of this dissonance lies Orbán’s deliberate embrace of Russia at a time when most of Europe has sought to distance itself. Where Brussels and Berlin frame the war in Ukraine as a defining struggle for European security, Orbán couches it in the language of “national interest” and “strategic neutrality”—a euphemism many analysts view as thin cover for a pro-Kremlin tilt. His government continues to rely heavily on Russian energy, with Budapest signing long-term gas deals that provide Moscow with both revenue and leverage.
The Hungarian leader insists this pragmatism shields his country from the worst shocks of war, but to his critics it is little more than appeasement. By consistently obstructing European unity, Orbán has handed Moscow a lever it can pull at will.
European diplomats have grown accustomed to Orbán’s obstructionism in Brussels, yet his recent rhetoric marks a new departure. By framing Ukraine’s potential accession to the EU as a “security threat,” he has crossed from passive resistance into active sabotage. It is one thing to plead for exemptions on energy sanctions; it is quite another to argue that admitting a war-torn neighbour would imperil European stability.
To be sure, Orbán’s argument finds some sympathy among Europe’s fringes. There are voices in Italy, Slovakia, and even France that fret about the economic costs of enlargement. But few go as far as Budapest, where Orbán couches Ukraine’s membership bid not merely as an administrative headache but as a threat to Hungary’s very security.
This position, analysts warn, is dangerous. It provides Moscow with the appearance of legitimacy inside the EU itself, allowing the Kremlin to point to divisions within the bloc as evidence that its war aims are not universally opposed. One senior European official recently described Hungary as “Russia’s Trojan horse inside the Union”—a phrase increasingly repeated in Brussels corridors.
Hungary’s reliance on Russian gas is well known. While other member states have scrambled to diversify supplies, Budapest has deepened its dependency. The 15-year gas contract signed with Gazprom in 2021, long before Russia’s invasion, is still treated by Orbán as a cornerstone of Hungarian energy security.
In return, Russia enjoys a privileged relationship with one EU state at a time when its economy is under sanctions. This dependency does not merely shape Hungarian domestic policy; it ties Budapest’s hands diplomatically. Every debate in Brussels about tightening sanctions or reducing energy flows collides with Hungary’s veto threat.
Critics say Orbán uses this dependency as a bargaining chip, extracting concessions from Brussels in return for cooperation. EU funds frozen over corruption concerns have, more than once, been dangled alongside Budapest’s willingness to approve measures against Moscow. In this way, Orbán has turned Hungary’s alignment with Russia into a tool of leverage over both East and West.
Orbán’s posture cannot be explained purely by economics. Domestically, his government has grown adept at exploiting pro-Russian narratives to bolster its illiberal brand of nationalism. Hungarian state media frequently depicts Ukraine as corrupt, unstable, and unworthy of Western backing. This mirrors Kremlin talking points almost verbatim.
For Orbán, this rhetoric plays well with a public weary of economic uncertainty and wary of entanglement in foreign wars. By casting Hungary as a small nation standing bravely against the tide of Brussels bureaucracy and Ukrainian demands, albeit largely at EU taxpayer’s expense, he reinforces his image as defender of national sovereignty.
Yet the longer-term risks are profound. As Hungary drifts away from the European mainstream, it risks alienating itself from the very structures that underpin its prosperity. Billions of euros in EU funds flow into Hungary each year, propping up infrastructure and social programmes. Without that, Budapest would struggle to sustain its economic model.
For years, Europe tolerated Orbán’s contrarian streak. His battles over migration, judicial reform, and press freedom were treated as irritations rather than existential threats. But the war in Ukraine has raised the stakes. Unity is not a luxury—it is the foundation of Europe’s collective defence.
The patience of fellow leaders is wearing thin. Emmanuel Macron has reportedly confronted Orbán directly over his vetoes, while Germany’s Friedrich Merz has called Hungary’s stance “untenable” in the face of Russian aggression. Ursula von der Leyen has likewise hinted that continued obstruction could see Hungary sidelined from key decisions.
Yet Orbán knows his power lies precisely in the veto. So long as unanimity is required for EU foreign policy, a single dissenter can hold up the whole show. This institutional weakness is what gives Orbán such disproportionate influence—and what Moscow finds so valuable.
Orbán’s defiance does not exist in a vacuum. It forms part of a broader struggle within the EU over identity, sovereignty, and strategic direction. For hawkish states like Poland and the Baltic nations, Russia represents an existential threat. For Germany and France, it is a challenge to European order. For Orbán, it is an opportunity: a chance to carve out a unique space for Hungary as mediator, spoiler, or both.
This divergence is corrosive. While Brussels pushes for a common defence policy, Orbán pulls in the opposite direction, insisting that national sovereignty must trump collective strategy. The danger is not simply one of delay but of paralysis. At a moment when Europe must move quickly—whether in supplying air defences to Kyiv or shoring up its own eastern flank—it finds itself slowed by Hungarian foot-dragging, to Vladimir Putin’s benefit. Seemingly always to Vladimir Putin’s benefit.
From Moscow’s perspective, Orbán is a gift. Every time Budapest blocks a sanction package or questions the wisdom of enlargement, the Kremlin can point to cracks in European unity. This weakens the EU’s negotiating position, fuels disinformation campaigns, and emboldens Russian narratives about Western decline.
There is no suggestion Orbán takes direct orders from the Kremlin. But the alignment of interests is obvious. The more Hungary obstructs, the more Russia benefits. And the longer Europe spends managing its internal divisions, the less capacity it has to project strength abroad.
As Europe grapples with the greatest security crisis in generations, Viktor Orbán’s posture poses a dilemma. To ostracise Hungary risks deepening the EU’s internal fracture. To indulge him risks allowing Moscow to manipulate Europe from within.
The choice is stark, but it cannot be delayed. Unless the EU finds a way to limit Orbán’s veto power or shift Hungary’s incentives, it will remain vulnerable to the Kremlin’s leverage.
Orbán presents himself as a realist, guarding Hungarian interests against Brussels idealism. But history may judge him differently: as the leader who, by siding with Moscow, weakened Europe’s hand at the very moment unity mattered most.
Main Image: Prime Minister of Hungary Viktor Orban in the Kremlin, July 5th 2024. Photo: Valery Sharifulin, TASS, via Kremlin.ru