Never in the history of liberal democracy anywhere – let alone in the Western camp – has a candidate shot from quasi-total obscurity straight to first place in a presidential vote, with effectively zero warning. This cannot and does not happen. It is something that we might perhaps imagine in a dictatorship: an autocrat engineering a formal “win” for his handpicked successor, out of the blue. But not in a free election in an EU and NATO country, be it even one on the periphery, like Romania. So what is going on, then?
The facts
This past weekend, independent nationalist Calin Georgescu topped the poll in the first round of Romania’s presidential elections with nearly 23 per cent – a clear win over progressive Elena Lasconi on 19.17 per cent who just edged past third-placed sitting social democrat prime minister Marcel Ciolacu by a whisker (less than 3,000 votes) to qualify for the run-off on 8 December. George Simion, previously described by Western media as the country’s “hard right chief” only came in fourth, on 13.8 per cent, while the leader of Romania’s mainstream centre-right party (PNL, the national liberals), Nicolae Ciuca, tanked to 8.78 per cent.
Throughout the campaign Mr Ciolacu had been universally expected to win the first round by a large margin. He had all the advantages of his prime ministerial office, coupled with the immense organisational power of his Social Democrat Party’s machinery – the country’s largest. In recent weeks the election came to be seen only as a three-way race between Simion, Lasconi and Ciuca for the second place and the chance to fight Ciolacu in the run-off. The very last major poll released before the vote showed Ciolacu leading on 23.7 per cent, followed by Lasconi (17.8 per cent), Simion (16.9 per cent) and Ciuca (14.3 per cent).
Even at this late stage, literally on the eve of the election, Calin Georgescu, the eventual runaway winner, was listed only in 5th place, on 8.1 per cent. Most extraordinary, Georgescu only really began registering on analysts’ radars in the week before the vote, when another poll – sampled between 15-20 November – suddenly placed him a distant 6th, on 6.2 per cent. In October he stood at under 1 per cent. At no point during the campaign and up to the exit polls was he ever considered anything more than a totally fringe solo candidate not even worth discussing. From this position he magically won outright.
The effect on Romanian politics has been cataclysmic. The leaderships of the two main parties, the social democrats and national liberals, which have been running the country in coalition since 2021, have both resigned this week. The entire political scene has been thrown into chaos, as no one can now be sure of where they stand and what alliances to make. To make matters worse, parliamentary elections are also due this weekend, adding another layer of tension and recriminations to the general sense of drama.
Mr Georgescu blindsided Romania’s entire political class, all political experts, analysts and consultants, all the pollsters – domestic and foreign – absolutely everyone without exception. No one saw this coming. The notion of “surprise” in politics is not unheard-of by any means. Over the past decade, for example, Macron and Trump pulled off electoral shocks that reset the politics of France and the US. But in these cases, and in every other, there were clear warning signs, and the candidates and movements in question had become clearly highly competitive by the time of the vote. There is no such thing as an entirely stealth win in democratic politics; at least there wasn’t, until Calin Georgescu.
The explanation
There is no serious suggestion of vote tampering. People genuinely went out in droves and deliberately chose Mr Georgescu at the ballot box. He won the diaspora vote by a mile – except in Moldova, where he only garnered 3.11 per cent in a country with a large pro-Russian population and that barely got a pro-EU referendum through a month ago. The Moldovan exception is particularly odd as it appears to cut against default suspicions of Russian “help” for Georgescu. In Romania itself, Georgescu won in counties spread across all regions of the country which are otherwise heavily dominated by the mainstream parties. It was a broadly evenly distributed, solid victory.
So, how did he do it? There are five elements – five Ms – to this particular discussion: the man himself, the means, the message, the moment and, to be fair, a dose of mystery as some aspects of this remain, for now, “unclear”.
As regards Georgescu himself, by CV, appearance and speaking style he comes across as the ideal candidate. He studied agronomy, has a PhD in soil science and is a university lecturer; has worked at senior levels in government – including in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs – as well as at the UN and other NGOs, with a focus on sustainable development; and he speaks four foreign languages. He projects a professional, clean-cut image of a determined, experienced 62 year-old nationalist at the apex of his powers, speaking very simply and clearly in a calm, confident manner. Strictly by these superficial PR metrics, on paper, he is, at first glance, perfectly suited for the role.
Nor is he unknown in Romanian politics; but he is – or has been – a very fringe figure. His name was floated several times in recent years, in nationalist-populist circles, as a potential alternative for prime minister. He nearly became honorary president of Romania’s main nationalist conservative party, AUR, before the deal fell through when past comments came to light in which he had called the country’s Second World War leader and Axis ally, Marshal Antonescu – who is considered responsible for the Romanian Holocaust – a “hero”.
As for the means by which Georgescu pulled this off, the answer appears clear: TikTok. His campaign was entirely online – he did not even have a traditional campaign HQ or press office – with an overwhelming focus on the Chinese-owned social media platform. The press has now found that behind Georgescu there appears to have been an entire “network” of volunteers – often organised via Telegram – running thousands of co-ordinated TikTok accounts designed to boost each other’s posts – i.e. Georgescu’s short promo videos.
TikTok has only relatively recently caught on in Romania; certainly it wasn’t a factor at the last election. This might explain why a strong TikTok campaign would not have registered properly in political analysis, and why it might’ve had an outsized effect on voting intentions. It is also a warning for the future of the very idea of democratic politics, as it shows that it is possible for candidates to completely side-step the traditional “public square”, avoid any major real-world debates or campaigning, and win elections exclusively online.
Still, there is a great deal of mystery over exactly how all this worked. Georgescu’s TikTok metrics are inferior to his three key adversaries for example: there were 145 million views this year for Georgescu’s main hashtags compared to 396 million for Simion’s, 328 million for Ciolacu and 202 million for Lasconi. One difference is that the bulk of Georgescu’s TikTok views and followers accrued within the past two months. Coupled with other indicators, it seems rather clear that so-called “troll farms” have been at work on his behalf, to spread his message; but it is not clear whether this practice is unique to Georgescu or whether it has been used – to varying degrees – by his opponents as well.
Indeed, over and above everything else, Georgescu’s success rests on his message. The quantity and reach of Georgescu content delivered on TikTok was, as we can see, smaller than that of the other candidates; given that he got more votes on the back of it, it must have somehow been more persuasive.
Suffice it to say that on one level, his message carries the standard themes from the sovereignist-populist arsenal, from a critique of the EU and embrace of peace in Ukraine, to economic nationalism – even autarchy – religion, patriotism and anti-globalism. On another level, though, Georgescu talks a lot more about non-political things like Christian love and the need to awaken people’s “consciousness”, almost in the manner of an Oriental guru. He has revived a type of Messianic, mystical-Orthodox, blood-and-soil discourse last seen in Romania before the Second World War in the ideology of the Iron Guard and the figure of Corneliu Zelea Codreanu, its leader – and has taken it further by incorporating fringe ideas about things like the dangers of 5G radiation, possible alien encounters or “bio-resonance” theories.
All this may sound eccentric – even crazy – to many people; but to a great many others, it is in tune with much of the content they habitually consume and share on social media. Most importantly, Georgescu’s message is different, and this is absolutely key to his success. As he merges the credibility of his formal CV with his confident exposition and discussion of certain “alternative theories” – of the kind popularised in the US, for example, among the followers of QAnon and Alex Jones – Georgescu’s message alchemy delivers a rather unique combination of the real and the magical. One can see how this not only confirms his audience in their own unconventional views and interests, but also makes him interesting and “worth sharing” to others.
The final element to consider by way of explaining Georgescu’s triumph in the 1st round is his timing. This particular moment at which he has come to the fore is perfectly matched to a key theme of his message: peace. A large part of Romania’s population fears war with Russia more than it has sympathy for Ukraine. Ever since 2022, Romania has constantly featured towards the less enthusiastic end (though still positive) of opinion research on European attitudes to helping Ukraine and/or beliefs in Ukrainian victory. With the war now clearly turning in Russia’s favour, and with the increasing talk of escalation – Russia’s conventional IRBM strike on Dnipro came in the week before the Romanian vote – a significant part of the electorate is now receptive to anti-war or pro-peace messaging.
On this point Georgescu delivers in a manner that makes sense to many, if not most, of the average voters – and that is compatible with retaining Romania’s Western alliances. His line is effectively a rehash of Viktor Orbán’s position: stop the war, don’t provoke Russia, have good relations with China, beware of being dragged into the Ukraine war by NATO, pursue a neutral – or rather, equidistant – foreign policy open to working constructively with all. In other words, it is a Trump-style Romania First vision. The simple and clear fact is that, against the background of the horrors of war next door in Ukraine, this kind of message finds very willing ears in Romania.
The exact way in which Calin Georgescu pulled off this extraordinary result may never be fully understood. Aside from the man, his means and message, and the moment which favoured him, there might also have been luck – such as vote-lending deals between the other parties, that backfired – and, of course, foreign interference.
As Georgescu is perceived to be “pro-Russia” – an imprecise term to boot – suspicion in this regard is directed towards the Kremlin. But hard evidence is lacking; there is no smoking gun, so far. Russian actors are involved in virtually every election in the West, but their exact role in swinging the result is hardly ever clear. In the US a Congressional investigation – eventually known as the “Russia Hoax”, for good reason – failed to prove alleged collusion between Trump’s 2016 campaign and Moscow, despite widespread belief in this story from those shocked that “orange man” could ever win because his message was more effective.
The Zeitgeist
The significance of Georgescu’s win, as a political event, is historic and profound – not just for Romania but for the future of Western democracy in general. It provides the first clear and tangible proof that the old democratic system as we’ve known may be beyond repair and that a new species of politics is born.
Trump’s victories, also unlikely and won against an entrenched establishment, as well as the other inroads made by populists over the past decade in various European countries, have been heralding a major and deep turn in the very foundations of democratic politics. But, by and large, they have seemed rather fragile and perhaps tentative wins, vulnerable to “counter-revolutionary” mobilisation by the Ancien Regime. And they were hard-fought through gruelling campaigns, trying to beat the adversary at their own game.
Georgescu, though, is the first to play and win – partially, for now – a different game altogether. He has proven that the political battle of our days is thus not about “policy”. The real battleground is beyond (or below) that, a titanic clash of fundamentally different conceptions of Life. Thus, what Georgescu achieved, even if only on the Western borderlands, prompts existential questions about the meaning of democratic politics everywhere in an age of mass tech-access and of mass psychological angst.
Today, people are more – or, at best, equally – concerned about Life and Meaning as they are about the practical aspects of living. It is the growing existential angst of our times which crushes people, especially in the stressed-out West – this is what is new now, not so much material concerns which the welfare state has solved to a large extent (compared to the politics of the 19th or 20th century, for instance).
The notion of Zeitgeist is an old term from German philosophy, denoting the spirit or mood of a particular period of history. Successful politicians cater not only to the basic, objective requirements of living, but manage to communicate with voters in ways that are in tune with that spirit and atmosphere of the time.
Our Zeitgeist, in Western societies, is an increasingly depressing and alarming combination of fears and aimlessness, coupled with an increasingly rebellious mood against the “system”. The climate-change death-cult fronted by Greta Thunberg, with its nihilistic anti-growth, anti-childbearing logic – which has since spawned the mad policies of the “green agenda” variety – has a huge share of the blame. Other powerful drivers of discontent are the furious war on Christianity and Christian values, the progressive freak-show of gender ideology (including the abominations of the Trans movement), the absurdities of Critical Race Theory and “diversity and inclusion”, and so on.
At first we called this the “culture war”. Then, the war on “woke”. But this fight, and the Right/conservative message on these issues has become formulaic. Part of Calin Georgescu’s significance is that his success points to the next stage of political struggle, one where people instinctively and rightly conclude that something truly dark has turned inside the heart of the world – indeed, in the collective consciousness. It should not surprise us that this term has pride of place in Georgescu’s discourse, because it really is in tune with a certain perception – as part of the Zeitgeist – that a great many people have about the times we live in.
The politics of Life
It is easy to exaggerate this term, “consciousness”, and read it in a mystical sense. But the “collective” – as the sum of individuals – is an old scientific concept from sociology and psychology. In its most basic expression, the collective consciousness can be taken to mean shared assumptions and a shared sense of the normal. Postmodern deconstructivists have wreaked havoc with this, forcing on Western societies the lie that “there is no such thing as normal”. The very concept of minority rights, the tip of the progressive spear, is the antithesis of the “collective”; they are mutually exclusive. The Marxist sleight of hand has been, of course, to offer the communist version of the collective but based on the eradication of the individual – the collective as a single mass, with a single will, engineered around a single politically-correct ideology.
All this is only a roundabout way of saying that the political battle of our days is not about “policy” anymore, or not just about that. The real battleground is underneath what is formally discussed in the “public square”, a titanic clash of fundamentally different conceptions of Life. In certain corners of the Internet, where more exotic, avantgarde political thinking is found – which sometimes leads back to Nietzsche – neo-Vitalist theories have been discussed for many years now, alongside neo-reactionary and other ideas thriving in what has been termed (to describe at least its shallower depths), the Intellectual Dark Web. JD Vance for example, the US Vice President-elect, is known to be well versed in these dialogues and figures; their role in Trump’s historic 2024 win may never be fully known…
The standard political discourse does recognise many of the main problems of “Life” as they appear to 21st century Western citizens, but only tries to offer “policy solutions”. These only address the symptoms (e.g. barriers to free speech) not the deep causes (e.g. beliefs that make certain groups want to suppress free speech in the first place). They speak to the rational, surface concerns of most people – not the many things that bother and even infuriate them, but that are never explored and analysed by the conventional and stale debates of the typecast intelligentsia.
The political gold
The real political gold – indeed, perhaps the salvation of a free and normal society in the longer run – that will win future elections is buried deep. Calin Georgescu has found a novel way to cut straight to it. Where others speak about building hospitals and more money for the health budget, he talks about healthy eating – not unlike RFK Jr does – and harmony with nature, while offering his own example by swimming in icy lakes and the like. The latter draws accusations of copying Putin’s trademark bare-chested PR, but also ignores the much simpler fact that such displays of vitalism actually work in terms of political communication, especially in Eastern Europe.
Hardly any of the West’s front-rank politicians or “public intellectuals” even mentions the crucial (global) issues of declining bee populations, of depleting soils, and indeed of water scarcity and water pollution. Say what you will about Georgescu, but the fact that he’s featured these things prominently in his programme shows at the very least a shrewd understanding of his voters and the power of novelty in political messaging; and, objectively, it shows a smart focus on issues that are fundamental for human survival long-term.
Tech investment and the AI race – or in British terms, being a “science superpower”? For most people this means nothing, and for those scarred by the Covid-era abuses in the name of “science” the march of technology is positively alarming. Georgescu’s preference is for a simpler life and turning towards spirituality than worshiping at the altar of Tech – which he doesn’t deny either. Again, this is something that even some of the highest-achieving, clever, but burnt-out people in the world’s leading cities yearn for. Indeed, one of the smartest and most talented people I know in London aspires to become a peasant, which is not easy to do in today’s “rich” countries. And Georgescu also talks about husbanding natural resources and raw materials, and about the virtues of “small” business rather than the obsessive pursuit of “more” – again, simple, novel messages that focus on ideas and issues that people actually care about.
The word “Messianic” that has been used by others to describe him is apposite. In his more exalted – critics would say, mad – monologues Georgescu casts himself essentially as the bringer of light and truth, or at least the opener of ways. Almost all he says has parallels in some biblical teaching or parable, and he even makes these comparisons explicit. Peace, harmony, freedom under God’s law, respect for nature, spiritual awakening; such ideas are weaved throughout his discourse. And, as already noted, all this comes in a well shaped package: excellent education, senior diplomatic and economic experience, right age, presentable looks, and most importantly, gravitas and a confident (highly trained) and clear manner of speaking. It’s a perfect combination for a certain section of the public, as the results show.
Maybe “troll farms” were involved in his promotion, but only those who do not understand the deep realities of their countries electorate – whether in Romania or other Western countries – can be “shocked” that a great many people would find quite a lot to like in a message like Calin Georgescu’s. Together with the widespread voter desire to give a kicking to the establishment – in Romania as much as anywhere else, and perhaps more! – and with the collapse of the influence of “traditional” media (especially TV), this would go a long way towards explaining the Georgescu TikTok phenomenon. A bit of luck – such as a spike in fears over nuclear escalation in Ukraine right before the election – and a bit of the usual political skullduggery and double-dealing between different factions of the “system”, could well explain the extra difference that gave Georgescu the edge.
What next?
Calin Georgescu will be both laughed at, and also painted as the ultimate Russophile fascist peril. But so was Trump and he won, twice – not least because calling someone a “joke” and a “threat” at the same time is confusing and self-contradictory, and weakens the case against him. For those serious about politics rather than the political-circus performers and clickbaiters – in Romania and beyond – the task is to understand and learn, not mock or dismiss out of hand with that air of superiority customary to the self-sufficient liberal intelligentsia whose conceits have brought the West to its knees.
The fact is that we are now moving into of a new political era: for lack of a better term, call it the “politics of Life” for now. A Lifepolitik that turns on vitalist, spiritual and nationalist themes and a rejection of the poisons and ugliness of the modern world. It seeks to connect with voters not just on the formal, conventional, “rational” policy-level of political discourse, but also on the deep emotional level – almost like a form of collective therapy, which is what Trump’s “rambling” speeches really are for his supporters. (Those who thought they were just random word salads indicative of an erratic and improvised personal style, rather than carefully honed instruments of political persuasion for their intended audience, were likely wrong – both in Trump’s and in Georgescu’s case.)
The nature of the surging “revolt” against the establishment is still not clear, to either side. But it is clarifying. The veil of lies and fake concepts, coded into “policies”, that we have been conditioned to accept as the “normal settlement” of contemporary society, economic models and even international relations is falling apart under the weight of its own failures and contradictions.
The final blows to the Ancien Regimes will eventually be delivered by figures from the outer-most fringes of politics: historically, this is where those who truly revolutionise politics – for better or worse – tend to come from. It should thus not surprise anyone, in the end, that this time the agent of change would be an eccentric, marginal figure like Georgescu, breaking through in a marginal test-ground like Romania. True, he still has to win the run-off vote on 8 December; the odds are in his favour, as his opponents have lost their heads and are over-reacting and making the same mistakes against him as were made against Trump in the US. In fact, he might even bond with the returning American president and his team over some of their similar electoral travails – and more.
Gabriel Elefteriu is deputy director at the Council on Geostrategy in London and a fellow at Yorktown Institute in Washington, D.C. All opinions in this article are strictly personal.
The end of ideological politics and the return to empire