Things in Copenhagen got off to a lively start, let's not lie to him. Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who never messes around and always has a stinging statement under his belt, arrived at the summit of European Union leaders and, without any anesthesia, made the situation crystal clear. For him, and by extension for his country, the idea of Ukraine joining the European club is not something that's on the table. Not now, nor in the near future. It was a cold shower for many who hoped, perhaps with more optimism than realism, that combined pressure could twist his arm. But Orbán is a tough nut to crack, and he proved it once again.
The underlying issue, the one that generates all this mess, is how important decisions are made in the European Union. For a new country to join, everyone, absolutely all twenty-seven members, must agree. This is what's called unanimity. If just one says no, things stall. And this is where the proposal of the President of the European Council, António Costa, comes into play. Seeing that the Hungarian veto was an insurmountable barrier, he floated an idea to find a way around it: change the rules of the game. He suggested that to open the negotiation chapters, instead of unanimity, a qualified majority would suffice. A shortcut, let's say, to avoid Hungary's "no" and be able to move forward .
But Orbán, neither slow nor lazy, cut him off at once. "There is a strictly established legal procedure here, and we have to adhere to it. And that means unanimous decisions," he declared with a firmness that left no room for interpretation. For him, there are no gray areas. The rules are the rules, and they won't be changed mid-game just because it suits the majority. With this statement, he not only closed the door on Ukraine , but also sent a direct message to the rest of the leaders: don't try to find alternative paths, because they won't be accepted either. Hungary's position remains rock-solid, anchored in the treaties and in the defense of its right to veto.
To justify his refusal, Orbán didn't mince his words diplomatically and got straight to the heart of the matter. His main argument is that Ukraine, in its current state, is not a sovereign country. A strong statement, no doubt. And what is his basis for saying such a thing? Money. "They don't have the money to support themselves," he explained. "We Europeans are the ones who pay for everything. And if someone pays your bills, you are not a sovereign country." It's a crude, almost brutal logic that strips the debate of any geopolitical romanticism and reduces it to a purely economic and dependency issue. For Orbán, sovereignty isn't just about having a flag and an anthem; it's about having the capacity to sustain itself, something that, according to him, Ukraine currently lacks.
Faced with this diagnosis, the Hungarian prime minister didn't just say no, but also proposed what he considers a viable alternative. His proposal is to abandon the idea of full membership and, instead, work on a "strategic agreement" with Ukraine . What does this mean? In his own words: "We have to support them, I don't question that, but the question is how we do it. Membership is too much, we just need a strategic agreement." It's like telling a neighbor that you'll help them move and paint their house, but that they won't move into your living room. Support with clear limits, intense cooperation, but without the obligations, rights, and, above all, the costs that would be involved in making Ukraine just another member of the bloc.
Elaborating on his reasons, Orbán detailed the two major problems that, in his opinion, Ukraine's accession would bring. The first is war. "Membership would mean, first of all, that war would enter the European Union," he warned. This is no minor issue. The EU has defense and mutual assistance clauses, and bringing a country in the midst of a war into the club would open a Pandora's box with unpredictable consequences for the security of the entire continent. It would, in practice, mean importing the conflict and turning it into an internal problem, a mess of massive proportions that no one, not even the most enthusiastic, knows how to handle.
The second big "but" is, as it could not be otherwise, the money. "And second, that the European Union money would go to Ukraine," he continued. Orbán knows that this is an argument that resonates strongly not only in Hungary, but in many other net contributor countries. Ukraine's reconstruction will cost an astronomical amount, and its integration into the common European budget would mean a massive reallocation of funds—funds that, currently, are allocated to farmers, infrastructure projects, or social cohesion in member countries. Orbán puts it bluntly: that money would stop going where it is now and instead concentrate on the new partner, and that, for him, is simply "bad" for the interests of his people.
With a hint of long-term vision, or perhaps irony, he acknowledged that "no one knows what might happen in a hundred years," leaving a microscopic door open to a distant and uncertain future. But he immediately returned to the reality of the present to conclude: the current answer is a resounding no. It can't be done, it shouldn't be done, and it won't be done. The combination of war and economic cost forms a barrier that, from the Hungarian perspective, is insurmountable under the current circumstances. No negotiation is possible when the very foundations of the proposal are considered detrimental to the bloc and to his own country.
And to leave no doubt, after his statements to the press, he took to social media and doubled down. In a forceful message, he made it clear that his government has no intention of budging. Not on the issue of Ukraine's accession, nor on sending more funds to Kyiv, and certainly not on cutting off gas and oil imports from Russia, a key point of his energy policy. "All of this goes against Hungary's interests," he wrote. "The pressure is strong and attacks are coming from all sides, but we will not give in." A message of resilience, directed both at his colleagues in Brussels and his constituents at home, reaffirming his role as defender of Hungarian sovereignty and national interests above all else.
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