Once hailed as a success story of European integration, Hungary has become a warning sign of how corruption and authoritarian control can thrive within the EU. Under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, political power and private wealth have merged into a single structure — financed simultaneously by Brussels and Moscow.
Over the past decade and a half, Orbán has surrounded himself with a network of loyal businessmen: Lőrinc Mészáros, István Tiborcz, Gellért Jászai, László Szíjj, and István Garancsi. Their rapid rise has been fueled by government contracts, state-backed investments, and a monopoly over public tenders. From highway construction to football stadiums and luxury developments, this group dominates Hungary’s economy.
Flagship projects such as the Puskás Arena, the Budapest–Belgrade railway, and the Paks II nuclear power plantillustrate the depth of this system. The latter — built with Rosatom, Russia’s state-owned nuclear giant — was awarded without a public tender, financed by a multibillion-euro Russian loan, and shrouded in secrecy. Instead of energy independence, Hungary deepened its reliance on Moscow while funneling profits to companies tied to Orbán’s allies.
At the same time, Hungary remains one of the largest recipients of EU funds, receiving more than €90 billion for infrastructure, education, and modernization projects — while contributing less than €2 billion annually. Yet a significant share of this money never reaches the public. Through opaque procurement processes and politically managed programs, EU funds are redirected toward firms loyal to Fidesz, effectively financing the regime’s political machine.
Meanwhile, a parallel stream of Russian money flows quietly into the same network. Investigations have uncovered transfers of €40–60 million per quarter — up to €250 million per year — funneled through shell companies in Germany, Canada, Spain, and Hungary. The central hub is Four Gates Hungary, a company notorious for “cash-out” operations that also holds accounts at OTP Bank. Other intermediaries include HDH-NORD-BAU GmbH, EDEMEL Holding Corp, and El-Passo del Agua S.L.
These transfers are disguised as inflated commercial deals — contracts for gold, art, or machinery, often prepaid and never fulfilled. The goal: convert Russian funds into cash that can be used to buy loyalty, finance political campaigns, and sustain Hungary’s growing network of influence.
This is more than corruption — it is a geopolitical strategy. By keeping Budapest financially dependent, the Kremlin gains a voice inside the EU, capable of blocking sanctions, delaying aid to Ukraine, and spreading anti-European narratives. Orbán’s government has repeatedly opposed decisions essential to Europe’s collective security while promoting policies that align with Moscow’s interests.
Recently, Orbán has even floated the idea of forming a “Central European bloc” with Slovakia and the Czech Republic — an informal alliance that could serve as a political tool for the Kremlin, weakening both the EU and NATO from within.
As Brussels continues to transfer billions in development funds and Moscow quietly supplies cash to Orbán’s circle, Hungary stands as Europe’s weakest link — a member state eroding the Union’s unity while empowering an autocrat aligned with Vladimir Putin.
