It became clear that something had gone wrong by the time the langoustines were served for lunch.
The European Union’s leaders arrived on Oct. 23 for a summit in rain-soaked Brussels to welcome Ukraine’s President
Volodymyr Zelenskyy with a gift he sorely needed: a huge loan of some €140 billion backed by Russian assets frozen in a
Belgian bank. It would be enough to keep his besieged country in the fight against Russia’s invading forces for at least
The assorted prime ministers and presidents were so convinced by their plan for the loan that they were already arguing
among themselves over how the money should be spent. France wanted Ukraine to buy weapons made in Europe. Finland, among
others, argued that Zelenskyy should be free to procure whatever kit he needed from wherever he could find it.
But when the discussion broke up for lunch without agreement on raiding the Russian cash, reality dawned: Modest
Belgium, a country of 12 million people, was not going to allow the so-called reparations loan to happen at all.
The fatal blow came from Bart De Wever. The bespectacled 54-year-old Belgian prime minister cuts an eccentric figure at
the EU summit table, with his penchant for round-collared shirts, Roman history and witty one-liners. This time he was
deadly serious, and dug in.
He told his peers that the risk of retaliation by the Russians for expropriating their sovereign assets was too great to
contemplate. In the event that Moscow won a legal challenge against Belgium or Euroclear, the Brussels depository
holding the assets, they would be on the hook to repay the entire amount, on their own. “That’s completely insane,” he
As afternoon stretched into evening, and dinner came and went, De Wever demanded the summit’s final conclusions be
rewritten, repeatedly, to remove any mention of using Moscow’s assets to send cash to Kyiv.
The Belgian blockade knocked the wind out of Ukraine’s European alliance at a critical moment. If the leaders had agreed
to move ahead at speed with the loan plan at the October summit, it would have sent a powerful signal to Vladimir Putin
about Ukraine’s long-term strength and Europe’s robust commitment to defend itself.
Instead, Zelenskyy and Europe were weakened by the divisions when Donald Trump, still hoping for a Nobel Peace Prize,
reopened his push for peace talks with Putin allies.
The situation in Brussels remains stuck, even with the outcome of the almost-four-year-long war approaching a pivotal
moment. Ukraine is sliding closer toward the financial precipice, Trump wants Zelenskyy to sign a lopsided deal with
Putin — triggering alarm across Europe — and yet De Wever is still saying no.
“The Russians must be having the best time,” said one EU official close to negotiations.
The bloc’s leaders still aim to agree on a final plan for how to stop Ukraine running out of money when they meet for
their next regular Brussels summit on Dec. 18.
But as the clock ticks down, one key problem remains: Can the EU’s most senior officials — European Commission President
Ursula von der Leyen and António Costa, the president of the European Council — persuade De Wever to change his mind?
So far the signs are not good. “I’m not impressed yet, let me put it that way,” De Wever said in televised remarks as
the Commission released its draft legal texts on Wednesday. “We are not going to put risks involving hundreds of
billions … on Belgian shoulders. Not today, not tomorrow, never.”
In interviews, more than 20 officials, politicians and diplomats, many speaking privately to discuss sensitive matters,
described to POLITICO how European attempts to fund the defense of Ukraine descended into disarray and paralysis,
snagged on political dysfunction and personality clashes at the highest levels. The potential consequences for Europe —
as Trump seeks to force a peace treaty on Ukraine — could hardly be more severe.
According to several of those close to the discussions, the reparations loan proposal started to hit trouble when
tension began to build between De Wever and his neighbor, the new German chancellor, Friedrich Merz.
A Flemish nationalist, De Wever came to power just this past February after months of tortuous coalition negotiations —
a classic scenario in Belgian politics. Three weeks later, Germany voted in a national election to hand Merz, a
center-right conservative, the leadership of Europe’s most powerful economy.
Like De Wever, Merz can be impulsive in a way that is liable to unsettle allies. “He shoots from the hip,” one Western
diplomat said. On the night he won, he called on Europe to work for full “independence” from the United States and
warned NATO it may soon be history.
In September, the German chancellor stuck his neck out again. It was time, he said, for Europe to raid its bank vaults
in order to exploit immobilized Russian assets to help Ukraine. With his outburst, Merz apparently spooked the Belgians,
who were at the time in sensitive private talks with EU officials trying to iron out their worries.
Several officials said Merz went rogue in putting the policy into the public domain so forcefully and so early — before
Five days later, von der Leyen discussed it herself, though she was careful to try to reassure anyone who might have
concerns: “There is no seizing of the assets.” Instead, she argued, the assets would just be used to provide a sort of
advance payment from Moscow for war reparations it would inevitably owe. The money would only be returned to Russia in
the unlikely event that the Kremlin agreed to compensate Kyiv for the destruction in Ukraine.
The idea gained rapid momentum. “It’s important to move forward in the process because it’s about making sure that there
is funding to meet the budgetary and military needs for Ukraine, and it’s also a moral issue about making Russia pay for
the damage that it has caused,” Jessica Rosencrantz, Sweden’s EU affairs minister, told POLITICO. “In that sense, using
the frozen Russian assets is the logical and moral choice to make.”
Most of the work of a European Council summit is already done long before the bloc’s leaders arrive at the futuristic
“space egg” Europa building for handshakes and photos.
Ambassadors from the bloc’s 27 member countries gather to discuss what the summit will achieve — and to thrash out the
precise wording of the plans — during the weeks leading up to each meeting.
Ahead of the October summit, Belgium’s ambassador to the EU, Peter Moors, had been sending signals to his colleagues
that making progress on plans to use Russia’s frozen assets would be fine. The problem, according to four officials
familiar with the matter, was that Moors wasn’t speaking directly to De Wever, and all the decisions about Russian
assets rested with the prime minister.
While others inside the Belgian government knew that the prime minister was implacably opposed to ransacking Euroclear,
one of his country’s most valuable and important financial institutions, the diplomat negotiating the summit deal a few
hundred meters up the road apparently did not.
That meant nobody in the EU machinery really understood just how serious De Wever’s opposition was going to be until he
arrived on summit day with steam coming out of his ears.
Moors is well respected among his peers and within the Belgian government. He is seen as effective, experienced and
competent, having had a long career in diplomacy and politics. Before he took on the role of ambassador to the EU, he
was known as the “spider in the web” of Belgian foreign policy.
The trouble, it seems, may have been political. He was the chief of staff to De Wever’s rival and predecessor as prime
minister, Alexander De Croo, and comes from a party that lost power in last year’s election and now serves in
opposition. It’s hardly uncommon in politics for such distinctions to affect who gets left out of the loop.
The other complicating factor was Belgium’s political dysfunction. As De Wever himself put it, he had been locked in
negotiations with his compatriots trying to agree a national budget for weeks with no deal in sight.
“I’ve been negotiating for weeks to find €10 billion,” De Wever said on the way into the EU summit. A scenario in which
Belgium would have to repay Russia more than 10 times that amount would therefore be unthinkable, he added.
As the summit broke up with only a vague agreement for leaders to look again at financing Ukraine, officials were left
scratching their heads and wondering what had gone wrong.
The question of what to do with hundreds of billions of dollars worth of Russian assets locked in Western accounts had
been hanging over Ukraine’s allies since the funds were sanctioned at the start of the war in February 2022. Now,
though, it’s not just the Europeans who have their eyes on the cash.
The American side has quietly but firmly let Brussels know they have their own plans for the funds. When EU Sanctions
Envoy David O’Sullivan traveled to Washington during the summer, U.S. officials told him bluntly they wanted to hand the
assets back to Russia once a peace deal was done, according to two senior diplomats.
Trump is increasingly impatient for Kyiv and Moscow to agree to a full peace treaty. True to their word, the Americans’
original 28-point blueprint for an agreement included proposals for unfreezing the Russian assets and using them for a
joint Ukraine reconstruction effort, under which the U.S. would take 50 percent of the profits.
The concept provoked outrage in European capitals, where one shocked official suggested Trump’s peace envoy Steve
Witkoff should see “a psychiatrist.” If nothing else, Trump’s desire for a speedy deal with Putin — and his apparent
designs for the frozen assets — lit a fire under the EU’s negotiations with De Wever.
Many EU governments are sympathetic toward the Belgian leader. Officials and politicians know just how difficult it is
for any government to contemplate a step like this one, which could theoretically open them up to punishingly expensive
De Wever is worried the stability of the euro itself could be undermined if a raid on Euroclear forced investors to
think again about placing their assets in European banks.
In recent weeks, von der Leyen’s most senior aide, Björn Seibert, among others, invested time in trying to understand
Belgium’s objections and to find creative ways to overcome them. Moors and other ambassadors have discussed the issues
endlessly, during their regular meetings with each other and the Commission.
But as the nights draw in, the mood is darkening.
Amid delays and continuing failure to agree on a way forward, bad-tempered briefings have been aimed at De Wever, and
increasingly also at von der Leyen in recent weeks. She has held off the decisive step of publishing the draft legal
texts that would enable the assets to be used for the reparations loan. These documents are what all sides need to
enact, alter or reject the plan.
“We have wasted a lot of time,” Jonatan Vseviov, secretary-general of the Estonian foreign ministry, told POLITICO. “Our
focus has been solely on the Commission president, asking her to present the proposal. Nobody else can table the
proposal.” He said it would have been “better” if the Commission had produced the legal texts setting out the details of
the loan earlier than Wednesday, when they were eventually released.
“We all have a responsibility” to speed up now, another diplomat said, while a third noted that even Belgium had been
imploring the Commission to publish the legal plans in recent weeks. An EU official said everyone should calm down and
noted that De Wever still needed to get off his ledge. Another diplomat said Belgium “cannot expect all their wishes to
Merz is particularly agitated. He worries that it will be his country’s taxpayers who have to step in unless the assets
loan goes ahead. “I see the need to do this as increasingly urgent,” the German leader told reporters on Friday.
“Ukraine needs our support. Russian attacks are intensifying. Winter is approaching — or rather, we are already in
De Wever, in the words of one diplomat, is still “pleading” for other options to remain in play. Two alternative ideas
are in the air. The first would ask EU national governments to dig into their own coffers to send cash grants to Kyiv, a
prospect most involved think is unrealistic given the parlous state of the budgets of many European nations.
The other idea is to fund a loan to Kyiv via joint EU borrowing, something frugal countries dislike because it would
pile up debt to be repaid by future generations of taxpayers. “We are not keen on that,” one diplomat said. “The
principle of saying Russia needs to pay for the damage is right.”
Some combination of these ideas might be inevitable, especially if the reparations loan is not finalized in time to meet
Ukraine’s funding needs. In that case, a bridging loan will be required as an emergency “plan B”.
In a letter to von der Leyen on Nov. 27, De Wever underlined his opposition, describing the reparations loan proposal as
“I am fully cognizant of the need to find ways to continue financial support to Ukraine,” De Wever wrote in his letter
to von der Leyen. “My point has always been that there are alternative ways to put our money where our mouth is. When we
talk about having skin in the game, we have to accept that it will be our skin in the game.”
“Who would advise the prime minister to write such a letter?” one exasperated diplomat said, dismayed at De Wever’s
apparent insensitivity. “He talks about having ‘skin in the game.’ What about Ukraine?”
Despite frustrating his allies, De Wever still has support from within his own government for the hard-line stance he’s
taking. His position has been reinforced by Euroclear itself, which issued its own warnings. In a sign of how critical
the subject is for Belgium, Euroclear’s bosses deal directly with De Wever’s office, bypassing the finance ministry.
Some also fear the threat to Belgium’s physical security. Mysterious drones disrupted air traffic at Brussels Airport
last month and were spotted over Belgian military bases, suspected of spying on fighter jets and ammunition stores. The
concern is that they may be part of Putin’s hybrid assault on Europe, and that Belgium would be at heightened risk if De
Wever approved the use of Moscow’s assets.
Another major hurdle to progress on the loan is Hungary. Russia’s assets are only frozen because all the EU’s leaders —
including Putin’s friend Viktor Orbán — have agreed every six months to extend the sanctions immobilizing the funds.
Should Orbán change his mind, Russia could suddenly be free to lay claim to those assets again, putting Belgium in
In the end, the task may just be too big even for the Commission’s highly qualified lawyers. It’s far from certain that
a legal fix even exists that could duck Hungary’s veto and Russian retaliation, keep Belgium happy, and avoid the need
for European taxpayer money to be committed up front.
As the next crunch European Council summit on Dec. 18 gets closer, European officials are feeling the pressure.
“This is not an accounting exercise,” Estonia’s Vseviov said. “We are preparing the most consequential of all European
Councils … We are trying to ensure that Europe gets a seat at the table where history is being made.”
For the EU, one essential question remains — and it’s one that is always there, in every crisis that crosses the desks
of the diplomats and officials working in Brussels: Can a union of 27 diverse, fractious, complex countries, each with
its own domestic struggles, political rivalries and ambitious leaders, unite to meet the moment when it truly matters?