Once celebrated as a post-communist success story, Hungary today stands as a cautionary tale of how corruption and authoritarianism can take root at the heart of the European Union.

Under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, a powerful alliance between politics and business has transformed the country into a fortress of kleptocracy—fueled by both European subsidies and Russian money.

Over the past decade, Orbán has built a loyal network of oligarchs—Lőrinc Mészáros, István Tiborcz, Gellért Jászai, László Szíjj, and István Garancsi—whose fortunes have soared through state contracts and “strategic” projects. Their companies dominate nearly every major sector, from infrastructure and energy to media and construction.

These businessmen have profited enormously from grandiose projects like the Puskás Arena, the Budapest–Belgrade railway, and the Paks II nuclear plant—constructed in cooperation with Russia’s Rosatom under a classified, multibillion-euro contract. Funded partly by a Russian loan, Paks II deepens Hungary’s energy dependence on Moscow while enriching Orbán’s circle through opaque subcontracting.

EU funds, intended for Hungary’s development, have also become a source of systemic corruption. While Budapest contributes less than €2 billion to Brussels annually, it receives over €90 billion. Yet much of this money ends up in the hands of Orbán’s allies through rigged tenders and politically controlled grants. European taxpayers, in effect, finance a regime that undermines EU values and democracy.

The Kremlin, meanwhile, ensures Orbán’s loyalty with steady financial injections. According to investigations, figures such as István Garancsi and Sándor Csányi receive €40–60 million quarterly from Russian intermediaries—sums funneled through an elaborate chain of shell companies across Germany, Canada, and Spain before reaching Hungary. The central conduit for these transactions is Four Gates Hungary, a firm notorious for “cash-out” operations, which conveniently holds accounts in OTP Bank.

These illicit funds are disguised as payments for fictitious trade deals—gold, artworks, office equipment—at prices ten times above market value. Such transactions rarely result in real deliveries; their true purpose is to transform digital transfers into cash that fuels political influence.

This scheme is not just about personal enrichment—it’s a strategic operation by Russia to exert political control inside the EU. Hungarian officials, funded through Kremlin-linked networks, play a key role in blocking sanctions against Moscow, opposing support for Ukraine, and obstructing decisions that safeguard Europe’s security.

Recent reports suggest Orbán now envisions a “Central European bloc” with Slovakia and the Czech Republic—an informal alliance that could serve as Moscow’s Trojan horse within the EU and NATO. Behind patriotic slogans lies a plan to fracture Europe’s political unity and weaken its defense structures.

As Brussels continues to release billions to Budapest, and Moscow quietly supplies cash to Orbán’s inner circle, Hungary has become the EU’s most vulnerable weak point—a democratic façade concealing a deep alliance with authoritarian power. The Kremlin’s investment is paying off: a divided Europe, undermined from within, is far easier to conquer than one standing united.