After nearly a decade of poor governance and strategic political decisions made without meaningful voter involvement or real debates about consequences, directions, and outlooks, Europe is now unmistakably in trouble.
Yes, obviously, this is hardly breaking news.
It’s been written countless times: the European economy is struggling, people are struggling, and there’s no real plan to address the core issues behind this dire situation.
Before the European Parliamentary elections, there was widespread fear that so-called extremists might gain more influence and power. True, they collected more votes than ever before, but the mainstream parties managed to close ranks just enough to contain the voters’ will—or, more accurately, to circumvent it. Ursula von der Leyen’s appointment as President of the European Commission, backed by these same parties, exemplified this: a multi-tiered Commission emerged, with strong commissioners for the politically privileged and less important roles for the sidelined. This political maneuvering wasn’t always elegant or principled, but it adhered to the rulebook of “acceptable politics,” and everyone—begrudgingly or not—played along. After all, voters’ choices were factored in only to the extent that they didn’t disrupt the established order.
The real question, however, is whether these victories left mainstream parties feeling stable and confident or if they understood the precariousness of their position—that these were Pyrrhic victories with darker horizons ahead.
Not long after, the German government collapsed, triggering snap elections, a rarity in a country known for stability and predictability bordering boringness. In France, the story repeated itself, with the government falling and another snap election following mere months later.
Yet, despite these upheavals, there was no real shift in political direction from the mainstream powers. It was business as usual, as though voters hadn’t delivered any message worth heeding.
Is it really so naive to think that European voters are neither insane nor extremist en masse?
Perhaps they’re simply frustrated with the political status quo, which offers no meaningful alternatives. It’s easier, of course, to blame their dissatisfaction on nebulous Russian influence campaigns or sudden bouts of mass irrationality.
But what if the truth is less comforting: voters are simply tired of being ignored?
In the last few days, a peculiar trend has emerged.
Western governments and the European Parliament have thrown their weight behind the Georgian president, who refuses to accept that the elections didn’t end as she expected, fueling protests against the “old-new” government.
Georgia’s situation isn’t unique: there wasn’t some extremist wave toppling the establishment; the same party has won four consecutive elections over the last 12 years. What is significant is that the majority of Georgians appear to support a cautious approach toward Russia, likely informed by fears of becoming the next Ukraine. While the EU and outgoing U.S. administration’s strategic priorities are understandable, so too are the fears and choices of Georgian voters.
And now, onto Romania—a member of both the EU and NATO, often lauded for its strong institutions and steadfast Euro-Atlantic alignment.
Despite painful reforms and loyalty to Western ideals, Romania has often remained a “good student” rather than a true partner. This November and December, parliamentary and presidential elections unfolded, revealing a fractured political landscape. Extremism is not new in Romania, but this time, the stakes were different. Authorities excluded a high-profile far-right candidate (Diana Şoşoacă) from the presidential race, leaving George Simion (AUR) as the lone extremist among the mainstream contenders. The liberal USR party nominated Elena Lasconi, a moderate reformist with a strong religious base, who finished second in the first round with 20% of the vote. Calin Georgescu, a relative nobody, unexpectedly emerged as the frontrunner with 23%, outpacing seasoned politicians like former NATO deputy secretary general Mircea Geoană.
By the second round, the playbook seemed familiar: when an extremist is in the final showdown, the moderate wins with the support of mainstream parties.
Lasconi was poised to ascend to the presidency with a broad coalition behind her. But then came the shocker: on December 6, Romania’s Constitutional Court annulled the presidential election altogether, citing foreign influence and irregularities, particularly around Georgescu’s suspiciously robust TikTok campaign. While his minimal campaign budget raised eyebrows, annulling an entire election over such claims seems, to put it mildly, a drastic move.
Romania now joins the ranks of Myanmar, Kyrgyzstan, and Haiti—nations where annulled elections are a grim norm. Even more alarming is the West’s muted response. Not a whisper of criticism about the dangerous precedent this sets for democracy. Romanian journalists have speculated that the Court’s about-face was greenlit—or even encouraged—by Western capitals. Is this the new normal for democracy? If the results are inconvenient, just cancel them? Who’s next—Germany, if the AfD gains ground?
What moral high ground will Western democracies have left against autocrats like Putin if elections are increasingly “managed” to ensure the “correct” outcome? And why won’t mainstream parties listen to the voters’ growing frustration instead of doubling down on directions that clearly aren’t working?
We are witnessing a disturbing trend that risks plunging parliamentary democracies into chaos. The question is not whether Romania would be better off with a pro-EU president—of course, it would. The question is, who decides who is “good enough” to win an election if not the voters? And where does this slippery slope end?
