Berlin and Warsaw split over €6.6bn

When Hungary finally lifted its veto on €6.6bn in EU military funding for Ukraine, the relief in Brussels did not last long. Defence ministers were left with the harder problem: whether the money should repay governments that emptied their own arsenals for Kyiv, or buy fresh weapons for a war that has no patience for accounting rows.

A Fund That Can't Cover Its Own Promises

The European Peace Facility is the EU's workaround for a legal constraint. Because the treaties bar military spending from the regular EU budget, member states pay into a separate fund and use it to support military aid. In practice, countries send weapons to Ukraine bilaterally and then claim partial reimbursement from the common pot (Eur-Lex).

Hungary had blocked that pot for more than two years. When Budapest withdrew its veto in early June, €6.6bn became available. But the queue of claims was already far larger: roughly €43bn in reimbursement requests (Brussels Signal). The fund covers about 40% of the value of transfers (Ground, Arab News/AFP). Even that limited promise is now beyond reach.

Kaja Kallas, the EU's foreign-policy chief, has proposed dividing the money three ways: partial repayments to member states, new joint procurement for Ukraine, and funding for EUMAM Ukraine, the EU mission that trains Ukrainian troops. Reporting put the split at €900m for training, €1bn for procurement, and €4.7bn for member-state payouts (EEAS, Babel).

Who Pays for Going First

Germany wants the money used where it can most immediately strengthen Ukraine's position. Defence State Secretary Sebastian Hartmann said EPF returns that are not immediately used should still support Ukraine. The following day, Defence Minister Boris Pistorius committed another €300m to the Czech ammunition initiative, a procurement channel designed to create new deliveries rather than compensate old ones (BMVg).

Poland reads the situation differently. Deputy Defence Minister Cezary Tomczyk said Warsaw wants full repayment of roughly €450m for weapons already delivered (RMF24). Expected reimbursement rates have reportedly fallen from about 84% to 46%, and could fall further under the pressure of the new allocation plan (Censor). Those are negotiating figures, not enacted rates, but they explain Warsaw's anger.

Slovakia shows that the complaint reaches beyond Poland. Bratislava donated MiG-29 fighter jets and an S-300 air-defence system under the previous government, a package valued at around €700m. So far, it has received just €92m from the EPF (Bankier). Officials had expected roughly €250m; they may now receive about a tenth of that (Denník N).

Prime Minister Robert Fico said he would confront Commission President Ursula von der Leyen over funds he says were shifted away from donor reimbursements and towards direct spending for Ukraine (Aktuality.sk).

Two Logics, One Fund

Sweden, which is also waiting for EPF money, has framed Ukraine aid less as a reimbursement claim than as a long-term security necessity (GP). Nordic states broadly backed Germany's approach at the defence ministers' meeting (RBC Ukraine).

That leaves the EPF caught between two defensible logics. For Poland and Slovakia, it is a burden-sharing contract: countries acted quickly, sent expensive equipment, and expected the cost to be shared. For Germany and its allies, it is a wartime instrument, and the test is whether it gives Ukraine more air defence, ammunition and training now.

Ukraine's needs are immediate. New procurement produces military effect in a way that repayments to national treasuries do not (EEAS). But the early donors have a serious case too. If the countries that moved first are left carrying the bill, the lesson for the next crisis will be a cautious one.

No final allocation table has been published. Kallas's compromise remains a proposal, not an agreed formula (Tagesschau). The next round of talks will have to answer the question now sitting under the whole argument: who bears the cost when solidarity arrives late?