In a dramatic political showdown that has laid bare Romania’s deep societal divisions, Nicușor Dan, an independent candidate and the mayor of Bucharest, won the Romanian presidential runoff with nearly 54 per cent of the vote – almost 10 percentage points more than his rival, far-right leader George Simion. In the first round on 4 May, Simion had secured double Dan’s vote share.

The runoff represented perhaps the most consequential choice for Romanians since the fall of communism. Simion offered an isolationist vision prioritising national sovereignty over European integration, while Dan’s technocratic, pro-European platform called for institutional reform while maintaining Romania’s Western alliances. Without the explicit support of Romania’s largest party, the centre-left Social Democrats, and without the backing of many Liberal politicians, including his main opponent in the first electoral round, Crin Antonescu, Dan’s success was a clear message from the Romanian people. Before the campaign, Dan was a local politician with little visibility outside of Bucharest and the diaspora.

But Dan wisely shifted the focus of the election away from him as an individual, framing it instead as a societal debate on the future of the country and encouraging people to actively take part. Romanians responded, with many – from celebrities to ordinary people – using social media to announce their support for Dan and their reasons for it. Dan now assumes the presidency with political capital drawn directly from the people and owing little to established political parties. Even those parties that supported him from the beginning were kept at arm’s length, as Dan carefully avoided becoming too closely aligned with any of them.

Dan is also one of Romania’s most academically accomplished presidents, holding a PhD in mathematics from Sorbonne University. After completing his studies, he chose to return to Romania. Elected mayor of Bucharest in 2020, he steered the Romanian capital away from the brink of bankruptcy and prioritised tackling some of the city’s most deep-rooted challenges – chief among them, the city’s crumbling heating system. Dan was re-elected mayor in 2024 with 46 per cent of the vote, making him one of the most trusted politicians in Romania.

Dan’s electoral victory over both the far-right candidate and Romania’s political establishment came only a few months after the Constitutional Court annulled the 2024 presidential elections. In its official justification, the court cited intelligence reports indicating coordinated foreign interference in support of surprise far-right frontrunner Călin Georgescu. This included widespread social media manipulation, illicit campaign financing funnelled through TikTok, and coordinated cyberattacks.

A previously obscure figure in Romanian politics, Georgescu  –  an ultranationalist with neofascist links –  had stunned observers by winning the first round of the 2024 elections, despite not being expected to reach the runoff in any pre-election polls. Georgescu denounced the court’s move as a “coup d’etat”, galvanising a series of protests to demand that the runoff be held.  In that now-invalidated contest, Simion had placed a distant fourth with just 13.8 per cent support. Dan hadn’t even entered the race.

When elections were rescheduled for May 2025, Georgescu was barred from running again. The Central Electoral Bureau cited his failure to meet “legality requirements” and pointed to his lack of compliance with the standards required for a democratic and transparent election during the previous vote. At the time, Georgescu was also undergoing a criminal investigation for alleged affiliation with fascist organisations and campaign finance violations.

Broken promises and deepening distrust

By annulling the 2024 elections, the Constitutional Court offered Romanians a second chance to decide the country’s future – a move that came with significant risks. At first, the ruling seemed to propel Simion, who surged to first place on 4 May. Seizing the moment, Simion cast himself as Georgescu’s political heir. He even promised that, if elected president, he would appoint the disqualified candidate as prime minister. In doing so, Simion positioned himself as the voice of those who felt betrayed by Romania’s political and judicial elites.

“The annulment of the 2024 election acted as an accelerant, not a deterrent, for Simion,” explained Veronica Anghel, an assistant professor at the Robert Schuman Centre for Advanced Studies. Anghel argued that Simion’s initial momentum came not just from the annulment, but “the silence”.

“Neither the Constitutional Court, the intelligence services, the Security Council, nor the president informed citizens transparently and comprehensively,” explained Katja Plate, director of the Konrad Adenauer Foundation’s Romania office. The authorities’ failure to explain or justify the court’s decision deepened public mistrust and did little to repair faith in Romania’s fragile democratic system, where institutional credibility was already near historic lows. This opacity sparked what Anghel called “a potent wave of public anger – less ideological than visceral.”

The government’s silence was compounded by a refusal to take responsibility for the democratic breakdown. No officials were dismissed or sanctioned for failing to prevent what President Klaus Iohannis later described as Russia’s “malign cyberattacks”. Despite the severity of the accusations, neither the president nor the government convened an independent committee to investigate the circumstances surrounding the annulment.

President Klaus Iohannis, whose mandate should have concluded with the December 2024 elections, extended his term until February 2025, resigning only days before the Romanian Parliament had scheduled his formal suspension. Before stepping down, he dismissed public demands for clarity, insisting the Constitutional Court’s motivation document sufficiently explained the annulment. In doing so, Iohannis essentially trivialised public discontent, stating that while citizens might feel “annoyed”, what truly mattered was for the “competent institutions” to “focus very seriously” on the May elections. “The vacuum of clarity allowed conspiracy to triumph over transparency,” Anghel concluded.

For Luciana Alexandra Ghica, a political science professor at the University of Bucharest, accountability and transparency over the failures of Romania’s democratic system would not have been enough to reverse Simion’s momentum. “Simion used emotions, not facts – he lied without scruples and amplified messages that had little to do with reality or logic.” His success, Ghica argued, exposed deeper systemic failures: “It speaks to a lack of political culture, the poor communication of public institutions, and an enduring mistrust in democracy – failures to which mainstream parties have contributed for years.”

Simion’s success ‘speaks to a lack of political culture, the poor communication of public institutions, and an enduring mistrust in democracy – failures to which mainstream parties have contributed for years.’

Although Dan also criticised the annulment, his approach was different. “He didn’t tap into that emotional current,” Anghel observed. “His strategy leaned on competence and institutional integrity – values many voters already believe have failed them.”

In mid-December, Dan labelled the annulment a “profound failure” of Romania’s institutions and “implicitly of the head of state”, but while he called for the dismissal of Electoral Bureau chief Florin Greblă, he argued that President Iohannis should remain in office to resolve the very crisis he had done nothing to prevent. As the election rerun approached, Dan toughened his stance, stressing that not enough had been revealed so far on the matter and promising he would bring more clarity regarding the annulment once elected. Following through on this could help address some of the conspiracies that have circulated online, spread by Georgescu, Simion, and their supporters.

Politicians vs courts

In December 2024, the EU launched a formal investigation into TikTok under the Digital Services Act (DSA),  following the release of the Romanian intelligence reports suggesting that the platform had been used to facilitate foreign interference – particularly by Russian-linked campaigns that boosted the visibility and support of Georgescu. The probe remains ongoing, with the Commission yet to release its findings. Its outcome could have lasting implications for the role of major tech platforms in electoral processes and, more broadly, for the influence of privately owned technology companies on democratic institutions.

The 2024 election’s annulment unnerved far-right leaders worldwide, including the Trump administration. Speaking at the Munich Security Conference in February, US Vice President JD Vance denounced the annulment as a decision based on “flimsy suspicions of an intelligence agency and enormous pressure from its continental neighbours.” Vance also cast doubt on the strength of Romania’s democracy, questioning its resilience if it could be so easily swayed by foreign influence. Meanwhile, Elon Musk, the world’s richest man and then a senior advisor to the US president, labelled Romania’s chief judge as a “tyrant”.

Vance’s comments appeared to echo broader concerns within the Trump administration over judicial involvement in political processes – concerns that have become increasingly salient as the administration grapples with mounting legal scrutiny at home. Since taking office in January 2025, it has faced over 200 legal challenges to its executive actions, spanning immigration, healthcare, and civil rights. Some of the legal actions in the US often seek to block or overturn Trump’s executive orders; several lawsuits have resulted in temporary injunctions or court orders that have suspended or reversed the president’s policies.

While these legal disputes in the US centre on policy rather than elections, they expose a shared hostility towards judicial oversight and a growing narrative – pushed by the Right on both sides of the Atlantic – that judges and bureaucrats are thwarting the will of the people. This line of thinking, which positions electoral majorities as untouchable and beyond institutional constraint, is a rejection of liberal democracy in favour of a majoritarian logic that sees any legal or institutional checks and balances as illegitimate. In Romania, this narrative resonated with those who viewed the annulment of last year’s vote as evidence of a “deep state” seeking to suppress political alternatives.

Romania’s case also reflects a wave of debate across the EU about how legal systems should respond to the rise of anti-democratic movements and leaders. In Germany, for instance, the domestic intelligence agency recently classified the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party as “extremist”, citing its promotion of ethnically exclusive notions of citizenship and anti-Muslim rhetoric as threats to democratic values (the designation has now been suspended pending the outcome of a legal challenge by the AfD). This classification would allow for broader surveillance, and it could lead to efforts to restrict public funding for the party, ban its members from certain public sector jobs, or even outlaw the AfD outright – though such steps would require further legal action.

In Germany’s case, the US has also weighed in. In December 2024, Musk expressed his support for the far-right party just days after declaring on social media that “only the AfD can save Germany.”

A culture of impunity

Romania’s annulment stands as the most radical example of tensions surrounding appropriate legal boundaries for national political parties and politicians. On paper, figures like Georgescu – and, in part, Simion – should have a difficult time gaining political traction, as Romania has long had the legislative tools to curb the rise of extremism. The 2015 law on the prohibition of fascist, racist, or xenophobic organisations and symbols provides mechanisms for prosecuting extremist activity and expressions. The legislation forbids promoting the cult of individuals convicted of crimes against peace and humanity, including war criminals and those associated with fascist movements. Violations carry criminal penalties ranging from substantial fines to imprisonment.

Figures like Georgescu – and, in part, Simion – should have a difficult time gaining political traction, as Romania has long had the legislative tools to curb the rise of extremism.

Despite this framework, enforcement has been inconsistent. Annual gatherings commemorating Romanian fascist leader Corneliu Zelea Codreanu are held in plain view of the authorities, usually with the presence of a few police cars and vans from the gendarmerie. When Georgescu praised Codreanu as a “hero” and a “martyr” during televised campaign appearances, it sparked condemnation from Jewish organisations, but he hardly faced any legal consequences.

“Romania’s anti-fascist laws have been more performative than preventive. Earlier, consistent enforcement – especially in media and party financing – might have curtailed the normalisation of extremist discourse,” Anghel stated. “But without political will, legal instruments are inert. By the time Georgescu and Simion rose, the culture of impunity had already paved their way.”

While legal tools, if properly enforced, can dismantle specific organisations or outlaw far-right movements, they often fail to address the underlying conditions that fuel them.

Greece’s experience with Golden Dawn stands out as a rare example of effective legal intervention against violent extremism. In October 2020, a landmark court ruling declared the neo-Nazi party a criminal organisation, convicting its leaders and members on charges ranging from murder to orchestrated violence against migrants and political opponents. This legal response dealt a significant blow to organised neo-fascism in Greece. Yet, extremist attitudes and far-right sentiments persisted in Greek society, finding new avenues for expression – including through support for other far-right parties like Greek Solution, which placed fourth in the 2024 European Parliament elections.

Romania now faces a similar challenge as Dan takes over a divided country, where the socioeconomic anxieties that both Simion and Georgescu exploited are still there. “Structural grievances were key to Simion’s rise. Deep poverty, rural abandonment, youth alienation, and pervasive distrust in the political class created fertile ground,” noted Anghel. Simion demonstrated a keen ability to speak to voters’ immediate, day-to-day concerns – even if many of his promises were, by his own admission, unrealistic. His signature pledge – building one million apartments at 35,000 euros for two-bedroom units, complete with signed citizen contracts – was dismissed by Simion himself as merely a  “marketing strategy” designed to capture attention.

Dan also understood that socio-economic issues driving much of the public’s frustrations were crucial for this election, but he often addressed these issues in an analytical and abstract manner, connecting Romania’s expanding budget deficit to rising inflation and ultimately to “higher bills” for citizens. For the pensioner in a small, struggling city like Vaslui facing a significant increase in heating costs, or the young family in Craiova struggling with doubled food prices, these abstract economic relationships offered little emotional validation of their daily struggles.

Predictably, Dan’s message resonated overwhelmingly with Romania’s educated, urban professional class. According to an INSCOOP Research poll conducted after the first round in May, around 45 per cent of Dan’s supporters had higher studies, while 52 per cent of Simion’s only had primary studies. Another poll showed Dan’s coalition was 72 per cent urban, with his electoral strongholds concentrated in the country’s intellectual and economic hubs – Bucharest, Cluj, Timisoara, and Iasi. Large turnouts in these and other cities ultimately secured his victory in the runoff.

But in a country where nearly one in five citizens lives under the poverty line, effective narratives must combine substantive policy reforms with messaging that validates citizens’ experiences. As Romania’s newly elected president, mastering this balance will be one of Dan’s most urgent – and difficult – tests.

In a country where nearly one in five citizens lives under the poverty line, effective narratives must combine substantive policy reforms with messaging that validates citizens’ experiences.

A president for the diaspora?

Dan will also need to reach the diaspora, where Simion won around 55 per cent of the votes. The Romanian diaspora—a vast and historically overlooked constituency— harbours deep grievances. While most politicians have paid it little more than lip service, Simion recognised its sense of abandonment and the quiet suffering that comes with it.

The Romanian diaspora represents the largest expatriate community in the European Union. Former Prime Minister Marcel Ciolacu declared in 2024 that nearly 6.5 million Romanians live abroad. (Recent estimates suggest a total population of 21.7 million.) “In the diaspora, especially in Western Europe, economic frustrations were refracted through a nationalist lens: resentment at having to leave home for low-skilled work,” Anghel explained. Indeed, a 2019 analysis revealed that two-thirds of Romanians living in the EU were economic migrants who left the country seeking better opportunities and wages, many of them with the motivation to support their families financially. In 2023 alone, Romanians abroad sent home more than 6.5 billion euros, accounting for approximately 2.8 per cent of the country’s GDP – a lifeline for countless households and about as much as foreign direct investments in Romania. To these people, “Simion promised dignity and return,” explained Anghel.

Since its founding, Simion’s AUR party has focused on direct engagement with the diaspora – a strategy no previous party pursued with such dedication, despite the diaspora’s decisive role in past presidential elections. In the 2009 election, for example, Traian Băsescu only secured victory due to the vote of Romanians living abroad. After qualifying for the runoff, Simion immediately addressed expatriate Romanians as those who left “not because they wanted to, but because they were pushed” – acknowledging the economic necessity behind their emigration and appealing to their emotional experience.

He spoke about their dignity and determination – themes that might resonate deeply with Romanians working in difficult conditions on construction sites or cleaning houses to sustain families back home. “I know that for years you felt abandoned,” Simion declared. “I know you were hurt by the Romanian state’s indifference. I know that many used your vote in campaigns, then forgot you. I have not forgotten you and I will never forget you!”

Also recognising the diaspora’s importance, Dan travelled to various countries to engage with expatriate communities during his campaign. These votes helped secure Dan’s advancement to the runoff, and his victory over Simion. “Dan appealed to the educated, mobile diaspora with institutional stability,” explained Anghel. In doing so, he risked reinforcing the perception that he primarily speaks to elites.

In the runoff, Simion gained 55.6 per cent of the vote in the Romanian diaspora. One of Dan’s most important tasks as president will be to formulate and implement a clear vision for the diaspora – one in which all Romanians abroad feel valued and understood.

Steering through crisis

The Constitutional Court gave Romanians a chance to reset the clock, and they took it. Now, a lot weighs on Dan’s shoulders. He has already pledged to be a president who unites the country. He faces the urgent task of re-establishing a level of confidence in Romania’s institutions for many disgruntled voters. Implementing his agenda of tackling high-level corruption and reforming the justice system will be key to restoring that confidence. With significant popular support and no electoral debts to established political parties, he is in a good position to achieve this.

But Dan’s presidency will not be easy. Beyond the deep societal divisions, he inherits a country on the brink of an economic recession, only worsened by the months of political instability since last year’s annulment. Yet, if his time as mayor of Bucharest is any indication, Dan can govern through a crisis.

The vote on 18 May will be remembered not just for its outcome, but for what it revealed about the fragility – and resilience – of democratic politics in Romania.