Cornel BAN

Associate professor of International Political economy at Copenhagen Business School

The Romanian elections of 1 December show that the far right and its enablers are getting good at using social media to throw institutionally weak democracies into chaos. But they also learned how to capitalise on real woes left unattended by centrists 

In many respects, Romania stands as a model of successful European enlargement. After decades of tumult following the 1989 revolution that ended Nicolae Ceaușescu’s dictatorship, the country transformed from what historian Tony Judt once called “the bottom of the heap” into a rising star of convergence. Romania’s GDP per capita, adjusted for purchasing power, catapulted from North African levels in the early 2000s to surpass Hungary and Greece, nearly matching Poland – long considered the economic benchmark among new EU members. By December 2024, net average wages crossed €1,000, and even minimum wages were higher than in Hungary and not far from Portugal. These are staggering achievements for a country where low-skill migration to Southern Europe was the norm ten years ago. EU membership fuelled this resurgence. Infrastructure investment, industrial retooling, and increased export complexity brought a degree of prosperity previously unimaginable. Life expectancy rose, consumption boomed and the middle class expanded. The Romanian passport became a symbol of opportunity, unlocking access to Europe and the United States.

Yet, this narrative of transformation has been thrown into disarray. The far right, which had seemed a marginal force, now dominates the political landscape. Independent candidate Călin Georgescu – a mix of Trumpian apocalypticism, ultra-conservatism and New Age mysticism – nearly won the presidency in December 2024 despite being revealed to make fraudulent claims about his competencies and international political and professional connections. His rise from obscurity to front-runner status, aided by the far-right AUR party, culminated in a Constitutional Court ruling that controversially annulled the presidential run-off that he would have mostly likely won on 8 December. How did a nation that, in relative terms, had ostensibly ‘never had it so good’ find itself teetering on the edge of far-right dominance?

Political stagnation and the centrist collapse

The immediate explanation lies in the failure of Romania’s political mainstream. The grand coalition of Social Democrats (PSD) and Liberals (PNL) fielded presidential candidates so uninspiring they alienated even their core voters. The PNL candidate, a former prime minister and military chief of staff barely scraped 8 votes in his own village. These candidates, marred by clumsy communication and a lack of substance, appeared ill-prepared for the rigours of national debates and public scrutiny. Years of patronage-driven politics within these parties had sidelined competent leaders in favour of utter mediocrity. Many think that NATO Deputy Secretary General Mircea Geoană, a former PSD leader with international gravitas, would have made a better candidate for the PSD, but was forced to run as an underfunded independent.

In contrast, Georgescu and AUR projected confidence, high-pitched outrage with the establishment and emotional communication that resonated with a broad public, including the 3 million-strong diaspora long disillusioned with establishment politics and who had swung from supporting neoliberal populists like USR to backing the far right. AUR’s diligent grassroots organising among these overseas communities paid off spectacularly. But the collapse of centrist credibility only partially explains the far right’s meteoric rise. More telling is how deep socio-economic divides, institutional fragility and a sophisticated far-right social media strategy combined to create the conditions for this political earthquake.

The economic mirage and rural discontent

Romania’s macroeconomic convergence with Western Europe masked profound regional disparities. Large urban centres thriving on Romania’s integration into European value chains remained bastions of centrist support, but rural areas and small towns felt left behind. For many, the shiny statistics of GDP convergence per capita translated into more modest improvements in net earnings, with average net income still lagging far behind Southern Europe. Economists pointed out how Romanians caught up with Central Europeans on wages and were far better off than Bulgarians and non-EU East Europeans. But such comparisons were no match for feverish populist tales painting a grim picture of the country’s economy. This amplified frustrations and created fertile ground for AUR, which capitalised on economic grievances by portraying itself as the voice of the ‘forgotten.’

The far right also bridged Romania’s urban-rural divide by uniting disparate groups: a diaspora squeezed by rising costs of living in Western Europe, rural voters disillusioned with stagnant opportunities at home, the small business owners seeing the end of Romania’s tax loopholes for them and the industrial workers whose significant wage gains were dented by inflation and who were left without voice by the gutting of the labour union movement. Although AUR provided no solutions to these economic frustrations, its grassroots machinery and innovative digital strategies ensured that these constituencies were mobilised effectively.

The TikTok revolution and strategic weakness

AUR and Georgescu’s ascent owed much to their social media presence, particularly on TikTok, where Georgescu achieved global trending status during the campaign. The far-right narrative – spun around themes of national sovereignty, anti-elitism, and Christian revival – proved highly engaging, especially when amplified by charismatic clergy, influencers, sympathetic media and retired military officers. Curated TikTok videos that were not labelled as campaign material flooded mobile phones before the first-round vote, making Georgescu trend 9th in the world (!).

Claims of foreign interference, particularly from Russia, have added a layer of intrigue to Georgescu’s rise. While Romanian intelligence hinted at external meddling, ‘smoking gun’ proof remains elusive. What is clear, however, is that the country’s institutions were ill-prepared to counter this digital onslaught. Civil society groups had warned about Georgescu’s growing influence long before the election, but their concerns were ignored.

The war in Ukraine and far-right messaging

Romania’s proximity to the war in Ukraine played a pivotal role in shaping public opinion. Initially, Romanians rallied behind Ukraine, welcoming refugees and condemning Russian aggression. But by 2023, this solidarity had waned. Reports of tensions between Kyiv and Romania’s ethnic minorities, coupled with controversies over Ukrainian grain imports and Danube dredging, stoked nationalist sentiment. AUR and Georgescu seized on these issues, framing Romania’s NATO and EU commitments as servitude to Western powers and positioning themselves as the only ‘party of peace’. As the conflict escalated and fears of a wider war grew, AUR’s messaging resonated deeply, particularly among young men. This demographic, already drawn to Georgescu’s social media persona and fearful of being drafted for combat, became a critical base for the far-right surge.

Institutional failures and constitutional drama

The inability of Romania’s security apparatus to address the far-right threat compounded the crisis. Despite early warnings about Georgescu’s connections to extremist networks, little action was taken until it was too late. His open association with paramilitary groups shortly before the election forced a belated crackdown but also heightened his appeal to his base as a martyred outsider. The Constitutional Court’s decision to annul the presidential run-off was another institutional failure. While it prevented Georgescu from ascending to the presidency, it also set a dangerous precedent, fuelling fat right accusations of US, EU and domestic elite manipulation behind the judicial scenes. 

Lessons and implications

Romania’s flirtation with far-right populism is a stark reminder that economic progress alone cannot guarantee political stability. The country’s remarkable achievements in EU integration and economic convergence masked underlying vulnerabilities: regional and class inequalities, institutional fragility and a disenchanted electorate. Similarly, the political costs of support for Ukraine and increasing European defence spending are serious and should not be swept under the carpet.

The far right’s success also underscores the transformative power of social media in modern politics. Platforms like TikTok have become crucial battlegrounds where charisma and narrative often outweigh policy and competence. In this context, traditional parties must adapt or risk irrelevance, particularly when these platforms can provide opportunities for actors hostile to the European Union to throw democracies and well-established forms of consensus into chaos.

The road ahead for Romania is fraught with challenges. International experts in constitutional law looking at the rerun ruling found it to be legally adequate, albeit at the limits, while cautioning that the precedent could be weaponised if the far right gets to dominate the courts in the future. Rebuilding trust in institutions, managing an increasingly fragile macroeconomy, addressing socio-economic disparities and countering extremist narratives will require a concerted effort from both domestic and international actors. Whether Romania can rise to this challenge or succumbs to the forces of division remains an open question. For now, the cautionary tale of its far-right surge serves as a wake-up call for Europe.

Photo credits: Shutterstock.com/CornelPutan