Péter Magyar, the man who swept away sixteen years of Viktor Orbán’s rule in a landslide on 12 April, travelled to Brussels this week before even taking the oath of office, receiving a reception so urgently arranged that it underscored the European Union’s eagerness to turn the page on Budapest’s ill-tempered estrangement. After talks with Commission President Ursula von der Leyen and Council President António Costa that he described as “extremely constructive and successful,” Magyar distilled the outcome into a single sentence for his supporters: “EU resources will soon arrive in Hungary.” The speed of the choreography was itself a signal that Brussels sees a transformative window in the wake of Orbán’s defeat, with both sides now working towards a political agreement to be formalised when Magyar returns to the Belgian capital during the week beginning 25 May.

The prime minister-elect, whose Tisza party wrested power on a promise of an “efficient and humane Hungary,” has made the frozen funds the centrepiece of his transition. Some €18 billion in cohesion and recovery money has lain paralysed for years under conditionality measures triggered by systemic corruption and democratic backsliding. Viewed from Brussels, the retreat of Orbán’s brand of nationalist obstructionism — compounded by mounting legal troubles for France’s Marine Le Pen — has hobbled the Patriots grouping in the European Parliament and lent the EU an unexpected political momentum. But the path to actually disbursing those billions is strewn with institutional tripwires that Magyar cannot simply charm away.

German analysts note that a technical team from the Commission is due in Budapest next week to map out the precise rule-of-law milestones, with judicial independence and anti-graft safeguards at the top of the list. Yet the very institutions that must enact these reforms were shaped by Orbán’s loyalists to resist precisely such pressure. The Constitutional Court, packed with Fidesz appointees, possesses the power of pre-review over legislation and could stall the incoming government’s bills unless Magyar either wins over a divided new parliament — where he lacks a two-thirds majority — or considers more muscular procedural moves. The paradox is acute: to satisfy Brussels he may have to curtail a court erected by his predecessor, a step that itself could be read as a rule-of-law transgression. Meanwhile, in Budapest, Magyar has amplified claims that oligarchs from the Orbán circle are scrambling to shift “tens of billions of forints” into the United Arab Emirates, the United States and Uruguay, with entire families decamping and children abruptly withdrawn from school. This parallel narrative of asset flight and accountability reinforces his domestic mandate but also signals the depth of the network he intends to dismantle.

Moscow commentators have focused on the practical choreography, reporting that the May accord will grant Hungary rights to several thousand billion forints from EU budget lines and special funds, a sum that would decisively reboot the economy. Italian observers, for their part, sense a broader rebalancing in which the EU, freed from the immobilising grip of Orbán and a Trump-era transatlantic chill, now faces its own test. Swiss editorialists caution that while the “time of excuses is over,” the political will among member states to translate this opening into lasting institutional strength remains in doubt. The Hungarian transition is thus a proving ground: Magyar must navigate between the expectation of rapid cash injections to buoy his fragile popularity and the meticulous reform sequencing that the Commission’s rule-of-law mechanism demands. Any misstep — whether a perceived weakening of judicial oversight or a too-soft compromise in Brussels — could undermine the very standards the EU seeks to reassert. For now, the choreography projects goodwill, but as the courts, the oligarch baggage and the parliamentary arithmetic in Budapest begin to bite, the real negotiation has only just begun.