For most of Europe, the invasion of Ukraine marked a decisive severing of economic ties with Moscow, however for Hungary and Slovakia it marked a great financial opportunity.
Gas contracts were cancelled, oil imports restructured, and governments from Berlin to Vilnius vowed to end once and for all their energy dependency on the Kremlin’s pipelines.
Yet two EU countries continue to play a different game. Hungary and Slovakia, landlocked and short on alternatives, remain tethered to the Soviet-era Druzhba pipeline – the “friendship” artery that still pumps Russian crude into the heart of Europe.
This week that dependency was exposed in the starkest possible terms. A Ukrainian drone strike on an oil pumping station in Russia’s Tambov region briefly halted flows, forcing officials in Bratislava and Budapest into frantic reassurance mode. The interruption did not last long – Moscow swiftly repaired the damage – but it was a warning shot. The reliability of Russia’s oil supply lines can no longer be taken for granted. And for those European countries still reliant on them, the risks are immense.
A fragile lifeline
Slovakia’s economy minister Denisa Sakova sought to calm nerves, declaring that flows had returned to “standard” levels and that the impact would be “minimal.” Hungary’s foreign minister Peter Szijjarto went further, thanking Russia’s deputy energy minister Pavel Sorokin for the speedy repair and praising the resumption of supply. The Hungarian oil giant MOL confirmed production had not been disrupted.
On the surface, the crisis was swiftly defused. But beneath the veneer of normality lies an uncomfortable truth: Hungary and Slovakia are bound by a lifeline controlled by the very regime their neighbours are attempting to isolate.
Druzhba, built in the 1960s, is one of the largest pipeline systems in the world, stretching thousands of kilometres from Russia’s oil fields to refineries across Central and Eastern Europe. It is an artefact of Soviet energy strategy – designed to bind satellite states into Moscow’s orbit by ensuring dependence on Russian crude. More than half a century later, the design still works.
Europe’s energy divide
The war has divided Europe into two camps. On one side are countries that treated the invasion as an existential wake-up call. Germany, once Moscow’s largest gas customer, has spent billions reorienting its energy supplies towards liquefied natural gas imports, renewable investment, and new pipeline routes. Poland, already deeply sceptical of Russia, has accelerated its construction of Baltic Sea terminals and connections to Norway. The Baltic states severed their dependence almost overnight, absorbing higher prices to preserve political autonomy.
On the other side stand Hungary and Slovakia, who continue to plead for exemptions from EU embargoes on Russian oil, insisting that their geography and infrastructure make disentanglement impossible. Both import the bulk of their crude through Druzhba, and both argue that alternatives would be ruinously expensive.
In practice, this means that even as Europe trumpets its sanctions regime, Moscow still earns hard currency from supplying EU member states. The Kremlin’s war machine is sustained in part by the continued purchases of Viktor Orbán’s Hungary and Slovakia’s left-leaning government. It is a reality that undermines Europe’s claim to unity.
Ukraine’s new strategy
The strikes on Tambov and earlier in March against a Druzhba metering station highlight Kyiv’s shifting strategy. Unable to match Russia’s mass on the battlefield, Ukraine has increasingly turned to asymmetric warfare, targeting energy facilities, oil depots, and refineries deep inside Russian territory.
The logic is clear: starve the Kremlin of the revenues it needs to finance the war. Oil and gas sales still account for around a quarter of Russia’s state budget. Each drone that hits a pumping station, refinery, or storage tank chips away at that revenue stream.
For Ukraine, this is not just economic warfare but also a political lever. By reminding Hungary and Slovakia that their precious oil supply runs through vulnerable infrastructure, Kyiv is forcing a reckoning: how long can these countries continue to rely on Moscow’s pipelines when those very pipelines are in the crosshairs?
Hungary’s awkward diplomacy
Hungary’s response to the Tambov strike was telling. While most EU foreign ministers rail against Russia, Szijjarto publicly thanked a Russian deputy minister for “rectifying” the problem. It was a gesture not just of pragmatism but of political intent: Orbán’s government continues to cultivate its energy relationship with Moscow, even as it clashes with Brussels on rule-of-law disputes, Ukraine aid packages, and sanctions policy.
This is not a minor divergence but a fundamental fault line. Hungary has vetoed or delayed several EU measures designed to tighten the economic noose on Russia. Orbán argues that national energy security must come first. But critics see it as appeasement – a calculated refusal to sever ties with a regime waging war on Europe’s doorstep.
Slovakia, for its part, is less brazen but equally constrained. With limited refinery capacity and no coastline, its options are narrow. Sakova’s statement was couched in the language of reassurance, but it underscored the dependency that Bratislava cannot easily escape.
Economics versus strategy
The defence is always the same: alternatives cost too much. Reconfiguring refineries to process non-Russian grades of crude requires billions in investment. Importing oil via rail or tanker through neighbouring countries would inflate prices and damage competitiveness. For governments under pressure from inflation and sluggish growth, the temptation to cling to Russian supplies is strong.
But the strategic cost is harder to quantify. Energy dependence is political dependence. Every time a Hungarian or Slovak minister thanks Moscow for repairing a pipeline, the Kremlin’s leverage grows. Every euro transferred to Gazprom or Rosneft feeds a war chest used to bomb Ukrainian cities. And every exemption carved out of EU embargoes creates resentment in Warsaw, Vilnius, and beyond, where governments have shouldered higher costs to break free.
A recurring vulnerability
The Tambov strike was not the first disruption, and it will not be the last. In March, Ukrainian drones hit a Druzhba metering station, briefly halting supplies. Each incident exposes the vulnerability of infrastructure designed for a more stable era. Unlike liquefied gas cargoes or diversified imports, pipelines are single arteries: once severed, they cut off entire countries.
For Hungary and Slovakia, this raises the question of resilience. What happens if a future attack disables Druzhba for weeks rather than hours? What if the Kremlin itself, seeking leverage, throttles supply? For now, the political choice is to gamble that neither scenario materialises. But it is a gamble taken at Europe’s collective expense.
The broader lesson
Europe has spent the past two years promising to end its addiction to Russian hydrocarbons. Yet the reality is more complicated. Even as the EU boasts of slashing gas imports and diversifying oil supplies, pockets of deep dependency remain. Hungary and Slovakia are not alone – Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, and even parts of Germany retain limited reliance. But Budapest and Bratislava are the most visible weak links, openly defying the political consensus.
The result is a continent half-liberated, half-entangled. Russia exploits these divisions, dangling energy supplies to some while punishing others. Ukraine, through its drone campaign, is now exploiting the same fault lines to press for a more consistent European stance.
The cost of friendship
The Druzhba pipeline’s name – “friendship” – is increasingly ironic. For Hungary and Slovakia, it is less a bond of friendship than a chain of dependency. Each drone strike, each temporary shutdown, serves as a reminder that this chain can be tugged at will, whether by Moscow or Kyiv.
The question facing Europe is whether it can tolerate such vulnerabilities at the heart of its union. For Ukraine, the strikes are part of a calculated effort to force that debate. For Hungary and Slovakia, the temptation will be to muddle through, issuing soothing statements until the next disruption comes.
But history suggests that dependency on hostile powers rarely ends well. So long as Druzhba continues to pump, Hungary and Slovakia may keep their lights on. Yet each barrel carries a hidden price: the erosion of Europe’s unity, the funding of Russia’s war, and the strategic shackling of two EU states to the will of the Kremlin.
