In a move that has injected fresh volatility into European politics, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz wrote to European Council President António Costa in early November 2026, placing a blunt condition on the European Union's future. Merz’s correspondence carries a quiet but formidable threat: Germany will block the adoption of the EU’s multiannual budget for the 2028-2034 period unless every member state commits to providing long-term financial support for Ukraine starting in 2028. For a long-time newcomer to European institutional mechanics, this threat might seem bureaucratic, but it is actually a sophisticated weapon. As the largest net donor to the EU budget, Germany holds a veto power that few leaders can afford to ignore, and Merz has explicitly invoked it to force the issue of Kyiv's survival.
To understand why a letter could stop a seven-year financial train, one must look at the numbers on the table. In the spring of 2026, the European Union managed to squeeze through a massive €90 billion credit for Ukraine. It was a monumental achievement, a sign that the bloc could still mobilize resources against a war of aggression. However, that single victory did not build a permanent structure. By the next year, the reality of the war had expanded to the point where Kyiv’s external financing needs swelled to an estimated €70 billion in 2027.
The EU, however, had only pledged to cover €45 billion of that specific 2027 funding gap. This left a staggering void—a difference of €25 billion—that would have to be filled by other means or by shifting the burden of the 2028-2034 framework. Merz’s demand is essentially to bridge this gap permanently. He is not asking for a new rescue package; he is demanding a structural commitment that ensures Ukraine has a reliable and multi-year financing perspective starting in 2028, removing the annual guessing game that has plagued the support for the country since 2022.
In the lead-up to the French presidential election, polls show Marine Le Pen leading the pack.
The central obstacle in Merz’s path is a coalition of four member states: Hungary, Slovakia, Bulgaria, and the Czech Republic. These countries have signaled they will not provide further assistance, acting as a blockade on the bloc. The situation is complicated by the architecture of the EU budget itself. While Germany and its allies are net donors, sending far more money to Brussels than they receive, these four dissenting countries are net recipients, taking home more in structural funds than they put in. Merz’s maneuver uses their status against them: if they want to keep receiving EU money for their own domestic projects, they must also commit to the Ukraine pledge, effectively using their dependence on the German-led system to force their hand into alignment.
The timing of this standoff is not accidental. It lands right before a year of seismic political shifts in Europe’s core. Elections are looming in France, Italy, and Poland, the very heartlands of the pro-Ukraine coalition. The most volatile variable is France. In the lead-up to the French presidential election, polls show Marine Le Pen leading the pack. Her platform contains a promise that will either validate or dismantle the European consensus: if elected, Le Pen has promised to end financial support for Ukraine entirely.
For Merz, this French election is not a distant concern; it is an immediate threat. If Le Pen takes the Élysée, the pro-Ukraine majority in the European Council could evaporate overnight, making it impossible to secure the votes needed to pass a long-term funding mandate. By writing to Costa now, Merz is attempting to lock in commitments from the reluctant members before the political tides can turn the entire project on its head. He is betting that a unified front is the only way to survive the next 24 months of electoral turbulence.
If Merz executes his threat, the consequences for the EU would be severe. The 2028-2034 multiannual budget is the financial backbone of the Union. Blocking it would plunge the EU into a bureaucratic and political paralysis, leaving millions of projects without funding for seven years.
The gamble is whether the pressure of this threat will be enough to move Hungary, Slovakia, Bulgaria, and the Czech Republic. For Germany, the goal is to prevent the disintegration of the EU’s support for Ukraine into a series of ad hoc, easily-attacked annual votes. By tying the entire financial future of the Union to a single, binding promise for Kyiv, Merz has raised the stakes in a way that leaves no room for the dissenting members to hide behind their smaller national budgets. They must either agree to the long-term perspective or face a Europe without a common budget for the next decade.
As of late 2026, the ball is in the court of the European Council. President Costa now holds a letter that demands a resolution to a problem the bloc has been postponing for months. The path forward is clear but difficult: every single member state must sign onto the commitment for 2028. The failure to reach this consensus would leave Kyiv exposed to a new funding crisis just as the war demands continued support, leaving Europe to look to its largest net donor with a budget in limbo and its political unity at a crossroads.
