In Brussels, irony is practically a member state.
Yet, Ursula von der Leyen has achieved something of a miracle: making the European Commission more powerful and less transparent—simultaneously—while wagging a well-manicured finger at governments that dare to color outside the EU’s regulatory lines.
It’s the kind of political yoga that only the most flexible of technocrats can master.
Let’s begin with her disappearing SMS messages—a 21st-century political whodunit that begins with vaccine negotiations and ends in digital vapor. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, von der Leyen took a hands-on approach to vaccine procurement, personally texting Pfizer CEO Albert Bourla. Billions of euros and public health decisions were apparently exchanged in emoji-rich prose.
But when a New York Times journalist requested access to those messages (well within their right under EU legislation), the Commission responded with the bureaucratic equivalent of a shrug: “What messages?”
No record.
No archive.
No explanation—other than the vague claim that text messages were “short-lived” and not worthy of documentation.
You know, just friendly little chats about a multi-billion-euro vaccine rollout. Could have been about lunch plans. Could have been about how to spend a third of the EU’s health budget. Who’s to say?
Fortunately, the EU’s General Court wasn’t buying it.
In a May 2025 ruling, the judges reminded the Commission—gently, but firmly—that transparency laws apply to everyone. Yes, even to presidents of the Commission. No, you can’t just claim a document doesn’t exist because it’s inconvenient. And no, “we didn’t think it was important” is not a legal defense when the whole continent was waiting for vaccines.
The Court annulled the Commission’s refusal, calling its arguments implausible and its document search “insufficient.” It’s a polite way of saying: stop treating public accountability like a clerical error.
Alas, this hasn’t been an isolated glitch.
Under von der Leyen, the Commission has embraced a kind of stealth governance—expanding executive authority while treating transparency rules like optional accessories. Vaccine contracts have been hidden behind blacked-out PDFs. Internal deliberations are stamped confidential by reflex. Legal memos, meeting minutes, text chains—they vanish behind an institutional smokescreen just thick enough to obscure democratic oversight.
And yet, while vanishing documents pile up in Brussels, von der Leyen remains the EU’s most ardent preacher of values. She lectures Eastern European governments about rule of law, scolds national parliaments for not toeing the line, and insists on “European standards” for openness and integrity. The hypocrisy is not subtle—it’s an art form.
In her hands, “transparency” has become a performance, not a practice.
In reality, the Commission has lost—or been forced to revise—dozens of decisions after being dragged into court over access-to-document refusals. Sometimes they claim they “do not hold” documents that clearly exist. Other times, the excuse is commercial secrecy, procedural confusion, or our old favorite: “short-lived communications.”
Meanwhile, the European Ombudsman has had to remind the Commission—repeatedly—that text messages, emails, and internal chats are not exempt from democratic scrutiny just because they’re inconvenient to file.
Still, von der Leyen seems unfazed.
Her political style—top-down, tightly controlled, and fond of backchannels—has only grown more assertive. She centralizes decision-making with ease. She brushes off parliamentary irritations like lint from a blazer. She’s even floated re-election with the enthusiastic backing of leaders who appreciate her efficiency—particularly when it involves minimal interference from pesky elected bodies.
But here’s where things get truly poetic.
If Ursula von der Leyen and Donald Trump ever share a stage again, perhaps at a NATO summit or some global forum, there might finally be a moment of genuine connection. Not on climate change. Not on multilateralism. But in a shared love for hiding official business in private chat rooms with disappearing content. One uses Signal, the other favors old-school burner phones—but the spirit is the same. Finally, a transatlantic bond we can believe in.
So yes, if you ever want to know what Ursula von der Leyen really thinks, or how the Commission really operates, you’re welcome to file an access request. Just be sure to bring a good lawyer, low expectations—and maybe a flashlight. You’re going to need it.
