The union and its uncomfortable mirror by Thanos Kalamidas

There is a peculiar tension at the heart of the European Union, one that grows more visible each time Hungary’s Prime Minister, Viktor Orbán, exercises his rights as a full member. To many across the continent Orbán represents a set of values that seem fundamentally at odds with the liberal democratic ideals the Union claims to embody. And yet, he is not an outsider. He is not an intruder. He is by design and by treaty an insider with all the privileges that status entails, including the power to obstruct, delay and veto.

This is not a glitch in the system. It is the system. The instinct in Brussels and among many Western European capitals has been to treat Orbán as a problem to be managed rather than a reality to be reckoned with. There is a tendency to frame his actions as aberrations, temporary deviations from an otherwise coherent moral and political project. But this framing is convenient, not accurate. Orbán is not breaking into the European Union; he is operating within it, using its mechanisms exactly as they were constructed.

That discomfort reveals something deeper, the EU’s foundational contradiction between values and sovereignty. The Union proclaims commitments to democracy, pluralism, minority rights and the rule of law. Yet it is also a coalition of nation-states, each with its own electorate, its own political trajectory and its own interpretation of those very principles. Hungary’s government, however illiberal it may appear to outsiders, was elected. Its mandate, however controversial, is domestic before it is European.

So when EU institutions seek to sidestep Hungary, whether through procedural innovations, financial pressure, or creative legal interpretations, they may believe they are defending the Union’s core values. But they are also stepping onto dangerous ground. Because in doing so, they risk undermining another foundational principle, that membership confers equal rights, not conditional privileges.

The temptation to “go around” Orbán is understandable. His vetoes can stall critical decisions, from foreign policy to budget allocations. His rhetoric often clashes sharply with the Union’s broader direction. But if the EU begins to treat treaty-based rights as inconveniences to be bypassed, it sets a precedent that extends far beyond Hungary. Today it may be Orbán; tomorrow it could be any member state whose politics fall out of favour.

This is the paradox the Union must confront; it cannot claim to be a rules-based order while selectively bending those rules to achieve desired outcomes. To do so would not only weaken its legal credibility but also fuel the very populist narratives it seeks to counter, those that portray Brussels as an overreaching, unaccountable authority.

None of this is to defend Orbán’s policies or rhetoric. Criticism of his government is both legitimate and necessary. But there is a difference between political opposition and institutional circumvention. The former strengthens democratic debate; the latter risks hollowing out the system itself.

In the end, Orbán serves as a kind of mirror for the European Union, an uncomfortable reflection of its limits and contradictions. The question is not whether the EU can outmanoeuvre him. It is whether it can uphold its own principles while confronting him. If it cannot, then the problem is no longer confined to Budapest. It resides, quietly but unmistakably, at the very core of the Union.