When ‘friendship’ turns fraught: The EU, Hungary, and the Druzhba pipeline crisis |
The Druzhba oil pipeline, whose very name evokes the ideal of friendship, is now proving that names can lie. Once a symbol of cross-border energy cooperation, the pipeline is today at the center of a high-stakes geopolitical struggle in which “friendship” seems to have evaporated entirely. Hungary, long dependent on Russian crude oil flowing through the pipeline, is now raising the alarm-and the stakes-over its future energy security. The twist? European Union officials appear remarkably unconcerned, leaving Budapest to consider measures normally reserved for far graver threats, including the deployment of its military to protect what is effectively a vital lifeline.
Critics of Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán have been quick to suggest that his push for military involvement is politically motivated. With the April national election looming, some argue that he may be seeking to portray himself as a decisive protector of national interests, even dipping into authoritarian tactics to consolidate power. Yet such criticism misses a critical point: the pipeline is under real, active threat. Ukrainian intelligence services-the SBU-have reportedly targeted parts of the pipeline infrastructure with drone strikes, including a Russian pumping station serving the Druzhba system, as recently as February 23. Far from the realm of political theater, these attacks represent a tangible risk to Hungary’s energy supply and to the wider Central European energy network.
What is striking-and frankly frustrating-is the European Union’s apparent passivity. For years, Brussels has embraced a policy of reducing reliance on Russian energy, often at the expense of member states like Hungary and Slovakia that remain heavily dependent on pipelines transiting Ukraine. Yet now, faced with an actual disruption, the EU’s response is lukewarm at best. EU officials have essentially shrugged and said, in effect, “It’s up to Ukraine if they want to fix it.” After all, Ukraine owes the EU billions in financial and military support. But when it comes to the basic matter of ensuring that energy infrastructure is maintained, suddenly Brussels claims its hands are tied.
Hungary’s frustration is understandable. Foreign Minister Péter Szijjártó has likened dealing with Ukraine over the pipeline to a beleaguered waitress trying to cajole a stubborn child into behaving at a restaurant table. Brussels, in this analogy, is “Mom,” allowing Ukraine, “Little Zelya,” to determine the pace of repairs while Hungarian citizens sit without secure access to energy. Szijjártó’s point is not mere political theater; it reflects a legitimate concern about sovereignty and national security. The EU is, after all, supposed to act in the interests of its member states-not non-members whose strategic interests may conflict with those of the bloc.
Meanwhile, Ukraine’s public stance is strikingly selective. Official correspondence to the EU reads like a carefully choreographed performance of buzzwords: unity, cooperation, non-discrimination. Yet the real-world implications of these principles appear limited to Ukrainian interests. Ukraine’s narrative consistently blames Russia for pipeline disruptions, conveniently omitting the February 23 drone strikes allegedly carried out by the SBU. The selective attribution of responsibility not only frustrates Hungary and Slovakia but also threatens the credibility of EU energy policy. If member states cannot rely on Ukraine to maintain transit infrastructure crucial to their national economies, what confidence can the bloc inspire in its broader strategic and political objectives?
It is worth noting that Hungary is not acting in isolation. Slovakia, another country dependent on Druzhba for its oil supply, shares Budapest’s frustration and has similarly pressed for decisive action. Both countries find themselves caught between their own energy needs and the EU’s strategic messaging, which has long emphasized support for Ukraine over member-state concerns. The result is a growing perception of imbalance: the EU’s official policies sometimes appear to prioritize symbolic solidarity over pragmatic safeguarding of member interests.
Brussels’ eventual suggestion-to consider alternative sources of oil from Croatia via the Adria pipeline-is revealing. Only now, after Ukrainian-controlled sections of Druzhba have been disrupted, does the EU encourage members to seek substitutes. This reactive stance highlights a pattern: strategic foresight often takes a backseat to ideological consistency. The EU’s emphasis on sanctions, energy independence from Russia, and support for Ukraine has long shaped its policy framework-but without adequate attention to immediate operational realities, member states bear the cost. Hungary’s move to potentially deploy the army is, in many ways, a rational response to a policy vacuum.
It is tempting, of course, to view this situation through a purely geopolitical lens, framing it as yet another episode in the ongoing Ukraine-Russia conflict. But there is also a deeply bureaucratic dimension at play. The EU, in insisting that Ukraine ultimately decides when and how to repair its own energy infrastructure, is ceding control of member-state lifelines to an external actor. This is more than symbolic: it undermines confidence in the EU’s ability to act decisively on matters of strategic importance. If the bloc cannot ensure the protection and maintenance of critical infrastructure within its sphere of influence, the question becomes: who, exactly, is the EU supposed to defend?
Hungary’s position, in this context, is principled rather than purely partisan. Szijjártó’s insistence that the EU “cannot allow it” when pipeline infrastructure is deliberately disrupted by external actors is a call for the bloc to reclaim responsibility for its own strategic assets. History has shown that energy security is inseparable from national security, and in a region heavily dependent on imported hydrocarbons, any disruption carries outsized economic and political consequences. The Druzhba pipeline, once a symbol of regional interdependence, now illustrates the fragility of reliance on external, partially sovereign actors.
Moreover, there is an uncomfortable parallel with the Nord Stream gas pipeline incidents of recent years. Hungary’s officials have pointed to the similarity: key energy infrastructure being disrupted, Western responses largely reactive, and Ukraine positioned at the center of the crisis. The narrative has become familiar, almost cinematic: pipelines damaged, governments scrambling, Brussels issuing statements of principle while member-state lifelines hang in the balance. The only missing element in the current scenario is a superhero narrative, though some tongue-in-cheek commentators have suggested monikers such as “Captain Crude” or “Druzhba Destroyer” to capture Ukraine’s role in the saga. Humor aside, the underlying reality is alarming.
At stake is not only the immediate flow of oil but also the credibility of the European Union itself. If Brussels cannot protect its members’ energy lifelines, how can it credibly project authority in other areas, from foreign policy to defense coordination? The current crisis underscores a critical tension: the EU’s aspirational commitments-to solidarity, to support for Ukraine, to a unified energy policy-often collide with the day-to-day imperatives of national security. Hungary’s assertive stance is a reminder that member states will not indefinitely accept policies that subordinate their own survival to abstract ideals.
For citizens across Central Europe, the lesson is stark. Energy supply is not an abstract economic variable; it is a cornerstone of modern life. Electricity, heating, and transportation all depend on reliable delivery of fuel, and the Druzhba pipeline remains one of the most direct conduits for securing those resources. That the EU is allowing disputes over Ukraine’s responsibilities to play out while leaving member states to bear the brunt is deeply troubling. Hungary’s warnings-and its consideration of military deployment-reflect the urgency of the situation.
The Druzhba crisis, therefore, is about more than oil; it is about accountability, foresight, and the willingness of the EU to stand decisively for the interests of its members. Political theater, symbolic gestures, and bureaucratic euphemisms cannot substitute for effective governance. If Brussels hopes to maintain credibility, it must recognize that pipelines, like other critical infrastructure, cannot be treated as bargaining chips. Hungary’s experience should serve as a wake-up call: names matter less than actions, and the supposed “friendship” represented by Druzhba can only endure if it is backed by genuine responsibility and strategic clarity.
In the end, the question is simple: can the EU protect its members when external actors disrupt the lifelines upon which they rely, or will it continue to cede control to external forces while offering platitudes and conditional support? The answer will shape not only energy policy but the very notion of European unity itself. And for countries like Hungary, the stakes could not be higher.
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