By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
After months of
turmoil, Romania has narrowly avoided electing a president who openly opposes
the country’s democratic foundations. In a runoff election on May 18, the
far-right candidate George Simion, who had decisively won the first-round vote,
was defeated by Nicusor Dan, the moderate conservative mayor of Bucharest.
Although Dan’s come-from-behind victory has halted Romania’s slide into
autocracy for now, it does not resolve the deeper political crisis facing the
country. Simion received 5.3 million of the 11.5 million votes cast. The
breadth of support for him also raises larger questions about whether
institutional guardrails in Romania (1), and in Europe overall, can be
effective in countering a far right that seeks to undermine those democratic institutions
themselves.
In his campaign,
Simion made little secret of his intent to turn Romania away from Western
liberal democracy. He attacked the European Union, NATO, French President
Emmanuel Macron (whom he portrayed as an avatar of Western decadence), and
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. He praised Hungary’s authoritarian
leader, Viktor Orban, whose policies he promised to
implement in Romania. And he attacked Romania’s civil servants, threatening
them with a DOGE-style purge. He also presented himself as a fan of U.S.
President Donald Trump and the MAGA right, though he never received direct
support from the Trump administration. Although he did not call for Romania to
join NATO, he opposed all aid to Ukraine and often echoed Russian talking
points about the war there. He was repeatedly praised by mouthpieces for the
Putin regime, such as the Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry
Peskov, the Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova, and the
right-wing ideologue Alexander Dugin.
To outside observers,
such a platform may have seemed anomalous. After all, Romania has long been a
staunch member of the Western alliance. For years, it has maintained close ties
to the United States and hosted several U.S. military bases. With its 380-mile
border with Ukraine and its access to the Black Sea, it has acquired additional
importance to NATO since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022. Moreover, Romanians
have been reliably supportive of their country’s membership in both NATO and
the EU.
But these external
allegiances have obscured widespread disaffection among ordinary Romanians with
their own Western-leaning political class. For years, the Romanian economy has
failed to bring broad-based prosperity as the population suffered from the highest
inequality within the EU. Public services have been hollowed out. And many
Romanians have been disillusioned by a political establishment that has
resisted reform and lost much of its popular legitimacy. It was against this
backdrop of discontent that the country’s Constitutional Court took the
extraordinary step of canceling the December 2024 presidential election to shut
down a far-right insurgency. The result was a crisis that nearly brought Simion
to the presidency in the rescheduled election this month.
That a candidate
openly hostile to democratic norms came within striking distance of the
presidency reveals the extent of public alienation and institutional distrust.
Romania today is not an authoritarian state, but it is not a confident
democracy, either. The country’s far right, which now controls 30 percent of
Parliament, has normalized radical antidemocratic rhetoric and mobilized a
disenchanted electorate that sees liberal governance not as a safeguard but as
a barrier to reform. The liberal order in Romania has survived, for now. But it
stands on alarmingly fragile ground.
Playing With Fire
Paradoxically, the
survival of Romanian democracy is owed in part to a move by the country’s
highest court that many Romanians regard as highly undemocratic. As with this
spring’s presidential elections, the first round of voting in November 2024 was
won by a far-right candidate—but in that case, Calin Georgescu, an upstart
independent candidate with large followings on TikTok, Telegram, and Discord
who was linked to Russian propaganda networks, extremist paramilitary groups,
and fringe conspiracy movements. A virtual unknown at the start of the
campaign, Georgescu had somehow obtained 22 percent of the vote in his
first-round victory. In December, Romanian intelligence services declassified
reports that revealed coordination among Russian-operated bots and paid users
on those platforms, backed by over a million dollars of funding from
undisclosed sources, to boost Georgescu. Western governments, including the
Biden administration, amplified these claims of Russian interference. Faced
with the possibility that a candidate backed by Russia might capture the
presidency and possibly overturn Romanian democracy, the Constitutional Court
took the unprecedented step of annulling the entire election and ordering it to
be rerun from scratch.
It is difficult not
to see the court’s heavy-handed intervention—extremely rare in a Western
democracy—as a textbook case of judicial activism and overreach. Citing
violations of democratic norms and national security threats, the court
asserted that it was stepping in to protect the constitutional order. But the
annulment and Georgescu’s disqualification ignited a firestorm, as did his
subsequent indictment by Romanian prosecutors on charges of incitement to
actions against the constitutional order and of the establishment of a fascist
organization. (In March, the court disqualified Georgescu from running in the
do-over election.) For millions of ordinary voters, the moves confirmed
long-standing suspicions that their country’s democracy had become a sham,
rigged from above.
That view quickly
caught on in right-leaning commentary internationally as well. The incoming
Trump administration, which was sympathetic to authoritarian leaders like Orban
and critical of European efforts to stymie far-right parties, quickly saw the
Romanian situation as a case in point. At the Munich Security Conference in
February, U.S. Vice President JD Vance sharply criticized the Romanian high
court’s decision—based, as he put it, on the “flimsy suspicions of an
intelligence agency and on pressure from European neighbors”—as an elite effort
to silence the will of the people.
As the campaigning
for the rescheduled election got under way this spring, the far right was newly
strengthened by the controversy. As the founder and chairman of Romania’s
largest far-right party, the Alliance for the Union of Romanians (AUR), Simion
took over Georgescu’s spot and received his endorsement, vowing that if he were
elected, he would nominate Georgescu for prime minister. Simion could now cite
the court decision as evidence of his core narrative that Romania’s elites,
backed by the EU and western European governments and shielded by opaque
judges, would do anything to block a true representative of the people. Simion
thus reframed the rerun election as a battle not between right and left or even
autocracy and democracy, but between the people and the unaccountable
institutions that ruled over them. This message fit well with Simion’s
longstanding embrace of conspiracy theories. In previous years, he had framed
the COVID-19 pandemic as a hoax created to control the population and strongly
opposed vaccinations. Throughout his political career, he has promoted
anti-Semitic tropes and glorified Romania’s interwar fascist regime. If elected
president, he promised to use the power of the state to pursue retribution
against those who opposed him and even suggested that Romania should return to
the monarchic rule of the interwar period.
Simion was
sufficiently extreme that he did not receive much support from far-right
movements abroad. Italian Prime Minister Georgia
Meloni, for example, recorded a lukewarm message of support; even Orban,
who was initially supportive of Simion, later distanced himself from him
because he denigrated Romania’s ethnic Hungarian community.) Despite his
incendiary platform, Simion dominated the first round of the election, winning
more than 40 percent of the vote in a field of 11 candidates, against just 21
percent for Dan, who came in second. Even with parties of the center and
center-right rallying around Dan in the final round, Simion still secured more
than five million votes including a dominant share of votes cast by the
Romanian diaspora in Europe. His message—brash, conspiratorial, and
anti-institutional—continues to resonate with a large segment of the
population. Given the narrow margin of his defeat on Sunday, Simion’s movement
appears to be far from finished.
Sick Man of Europe
A significant driver
of support for Romania’s far right is the failure of the political
establishment to reform the country’s broken economic model. Despite years of
strong growth in GDP and deeper integration into European markets, the
government has brought little improvement in standard of living to much of the
country’s population. Along with high inequality, nearly a third of the
population is at risk of poverty. The country also has the highest school
dropout rates in the EU, and rural youth unemployment exceeds 30 percent, even
as jobs go unfilled in major cities. The divide is the result of decades of
absent or mismanaged investment in rural infrastructure. Meanwhile, the
country’s entrenched political classes are seen by many ordinary Romanians as
corrupt, self-dealing, and lacking a positive vision for Romania’s future.
The government’s
inability to address these problems has left millions disillusioned and
receptive to fringe ideas and radical political movements. (During the
pandemic, for example, there was deep skepticism about the government’s Covid
mitigation efforts, and vaccine intake hovered at around 35 percent, one of the
lowest levels in Europe.) In December 2024 parliamentary elections, Simion’s
AUR and other far-right parties won a third of the seats. Along with the
cancellation of the presidential election by the Constitutional Court, this
paved the way for Simion’s strong run this spring. Romanians came perilously
close to electing a hard-right autocrat not because of culture war rhetoric,
but because of long-ignored structural injustices. This is underlined by the
political preferences of Romania’s large diaspora.Whereas
a minority of Romania’s expatriates are university-educated and able to find
good employment around the EU and integrate into local societies, the
low-skilled and seasonal workers who make up the majority of the those living
abroad, especially in Germany, Italy, and Spain, remain isolated and socially
discriminated against. They were drawn in large numbers to Simion’s nationalist
promise of building a country worth returning to, along with other voters who
revolted against a social model they see as on the verge of collapse.
For now, Dan’s
victory has bought the country time. A world-class mathematician and former
civic activist, Dan entered national politics from outside Romania’s
discredited party system. As mayor of Bucharest, the country’s richest area by
far, he earned a reputation for fighting corruption, opposing the interests of
big real-estate developers, and seeking to block entrenched clientelist
networks from securing public contracts. Yet Dan won the presidential runoff
not by pressing a sweeping agenda of his own but by assembling a broad
anti-Simion coalition—an alliance of urban moderates, pro-European liberals,
and other voters alarmed by the far right’s rise—in a late surge of support.
His base included young voters and the elderly, women, the urban middle class,
and dual-nationality Moldovans who viewed Simion’s rhetoric as dangerously
aligned with Russian authoritarianism. Romania’s more than one million ethnic
Hungarians, long a target of Simion’s ethnonationalist rhetoric, also voted
overwhelmingly for Dan.
Governing will be
difficult during his five-year mandate. His support base is diverse, and its
expectations varied. While winning on a moderate conservative platform, Dan is
expected to champion the rights of minority groups that no other political
force currently represents. Although he is expected to preserve Romania’s EU
and NATO orientation, he will also be under pressure to heed the population’s
below-average support for neighboring Ukraine. (Unlike voters in Poland or the
Baltic States, many Romanians believe that Russia’s aggression against Ukraine
has nothing to do with them and that NATO and the United States provoked the
invasion, a widely circulated claim on Romania social media that politicians
have done little to dispel.) Younger and urban voters see Dan as a symbol of
clean governance and a bulwark against corruption and clientelism, and hope he
will push political parties toward forming a competent and accountable
government.
That will not be
easy. To isolate the far right and avoid early elections at a time of renewed
far-right support, Dan must rely on a patchwork of center-right parties: the
National Liberal Party; the Save Romania Union, which he founded but left after
clashing with its support for same-sex marriage; and the Democratic Alliance of
Hungarians in Romania . Together, these parties control just over a third of
Parliament. To form a government, Dan will also need the cooperation of the
center-left Social Democratic Party in a broad coalition willing to support his
choice for prime minister. Although such an alliance should in theory maintain
Romania’s pro-Western trajectory, it will be fragile, not least because it
risks resembling the stuck political arrangements that have governed the
country for the past decade and against which much of the electorate just
rebelled.
Meanwhile, the signs
of potential economic collapse are growing. Romania’s fiscal system, which is
based on a flat tax approach and suffers from chronically low revenue
collections, has left the state unable to enact redistributive policies needed
to narrow the country’s huge inequality gap and fix its dysfunctional public
services. Dan and his coalition will need to urgently address these
structural fractures to avoid further defections to the far right. Surrounded
by economic conservatives, he is unlikely to pursue the kind of
social reform the moment demands. For now, progressive taxation and investment
in rural infrastructure do not have broad backing from the political
establishment or the urban middle-class voters who supported Dan. Without such
measures, more Romanians will be left out of the country’s growth, and support
for its liberal institutions and perhaps those of the West itself will continue
to erode. The election may be remembered as a brief pause before the next reckoning.
Renewal - or Russia?
Romania’s fracturing
internal consensus carries significant external consequences. Perched on NATO’s
vulnerable eastern flank, the country is on a strategic frontline. Aside from
its long borders with Ukraine to the north and Moldova to the east, it hosts
key NATO military infrastructure and plays a vital role in Western efforts to
contain Russian influence in the Black Sea region. As last year’s
Constitutional Court controversy made clear, Romania has become a choice target
of Russian efforts to sow division among EU and NATO members.
Although
investigations continue and little concrete evidence has been shared with the
public, the Romanian Intelligence Service has disclosed that it traced a wave
of more than 85,000 cyberattacks targeting the country’s electoral
infrastructure in the leadup to the first-round vote last November. And the
Kremlin has not been shy about expressing its views about Romania’s handling of
the election: after the Constitutional Court’s decision, Peskov accused the
Romanian state of having deprived voters of their right to choose their
preferred candidate. He cast the disqualification of Georgescu as evidence that
the West’s commitment to democracy was both conditional and hypocritical.
Since then, Russia’s
meddling in Romanian politics through social media, especially Telegram, has
continued. During the spring election campaign, the Russian nationalist and
Kremlin ideologue Dugin issued statements in support of Simion, calling him a
champion of real people. On election day, Telegram CEO Pavel Durov flooded
social media with claims that the electoral process was being manipulated by
Western governments—primarily France—to the point that Romania’s Foreign
Ministry was compelled to respond in real time to falsehoods. For the EU and
NATO, the danger is not only that Romania’s political divide could spiral into
domestic instability but that it has also created an opening for hostile
actors, foreign and domestic, to undermine Romanians’ wavering faith in the
democratic model.
For now, Dan has
allowed the country to avert a disaster. But the huge divide the election has
exposed between Romania’s Western-aligned establishment and its rapidly
expanding far right has not gone away. In fact, the country’s integration into
the EU and NATO has long masked tensions between the country’s international
commitments and its internal orientation. Even as successive Romanian
governments have embraced Euro-Atlanticism, the country’s domestic politics
have steadily been shaped by nationalism, corruption, and entrenched
inequality. The postrevolutionary elite, in its rejection of communism, often
sanitized the country’s fascist past, ignoring enduring xenophobia and
anti-Semitism. And its embrace of a neoliberal economic model that served the elites
did little to improve the lot of many ordinary Romanians.
This disconnect has
bred pervasive distrust of the political elite that now extends to growing
skepticism about the value of democratic institutions. Thus, 90 percent of
Romanians continue to support EU and NATO membership, but few trust the
government mechanisms meant to deliver on the promise of prosperity and the
rule of law. Membership in the West is no longer in question, but what that
membership means for Romania’s development, identity, and even basic democratic
orientation remains up for grabs. By surviving the greatest challenge to its
democratic foundations since the end of the Cold War, Romania has avoided
disaster. But by relying in part on an emergency judicial intervention to do
so, it may have further eroded key institutions’ democratic legitimacy. The
country’s future now hinges on whether its leaders can turn this reprieve into
renewal—or whether this second chance at democracy will be remembered as a
missed one.
1) An almost
entirely Orthodox state, it is surrounded by two other significant Orthodox
countries, Romania, with which the Moldovans feel a strong kinship towards, and
Ukraine. Although there are no key religious divides, there is a substantial
ethnic divide that exists between the Bessarabians (predominantly
Romanian) and the Transnistrians (predominantly Slavic).
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