“You see,” he told me, “if they put a chip in you, you won’t have cash anymore. And if you say something that bothers someone—poof—your money disappears from your account.”

I paused for a few seconds. Then, nodding as if I understood, as if I’d just had an epiphany, I pretended to approve of this apocalyptic scenario.

“When was the last time you took a stand? Or rather, when did you show integrity—doing or saying something simply because it was the right thing to do, even if it didn’t benefit you?”

My words rolled over him like boulders carved from the philosopher’s stone. He remained silent. He had no example to offer.

I continued, “I’ve spoken out all my life, even when I had everything I needed. I’m not afraid. But you, who’ve stayed silent all your life, are now afraid they’ll take away what you don’t even have.”

In essence, these are the voters of Sosoaca and AUR—people marginalized their entire lives by a lack of education and opportunity. People who were constantly told, “Sit down, you know nothing. Grade 4.”

Sosoaca and Simion tell them exactly what they’ve longed to hear. For the first time, they feel seen. Validated. Sosoaca and Simion have become their lifeline. After every word the two utter, their followers think, “See? We were right all along. Two plus two does make five—not like that dumb teacher said, the one who flunked us.”

In October 2021, I briefly covered the AUR–Sosoaca rally in Victory Square. There, I witnessed for the first time a Hitlerian-style speech, delivered with aplomb by Mrs. Sosoaca. I hadn’t attended a news event in years, so the shock was twofold. That day, I decided to observe the phenomenon from a distance—and to consider turning it into a more extensive piece.

In early 2022, a scandal in Parliament drew my attention once again. George Simion, leader of the far-right party AUR, grabbed and shook the energy minister with surprising aggression. Verbal attacks had now escalated into physical confrontations.

This time, I decided to get closer to the AUR leader—to better understand him and perhaps begin working on a documentary. I was already planning to visit him in Parliament when, on February 14, while out for a walk in Herăstrău Park, I considered capturing a Valentine’s Day scene. Just as I was about to wrap up, I noticed a group of people carrying flags and torches. Curious, I approached and realized they were AUR supporters, gathered to commemorate the unionist poet Grigore Vieru.

Shortly afterward, George Simion arrived. Once the event concluded, I approached him and shared my intentions.

began working on this material with the intention of presenting it to the international press, should AUR advance to the second round of the 2024 presidential elections.

My first footage was captured at a conference organized by AUR in the Romanian Parliament, titled “The Supremacy of National Constitutions Over European Bureaucracy.” The event brought together nationalist politicians from across Europe. What struck me was how each speaker passionately claimed that their own country represented the true heart of Europe.

Later that evening, at a restaurant in the northern part of Bucharest, I witnessed—for the first time—the leader of Romania’s far-right in his element as host. Like a conductor, George Simion guided a folk band through a repertoire of nationalist songs he clearly adored.

As the band played “We Are Romanians,” I watched the visiting far-right politicians and couldn’t help but wonder what they would do to Romanian immigrants in their own countries, were it not for the minimal legal protections in place.

Following the main event, a more exclusive gathering took place at a small venue in Herăstrău Park, reserved for select party members, organizers, and a few European nationalist guests.

In 2022 and 2023, I followed Simion sporadically. Confirmed as party president at the 2022 congress, George Simion was the only politician who seemed to operate in a perpetual campaign mode. This locomotive effect soon became evident, with the party steadily climbing in all electoral polls during this period.

The silence of other politicians, along with the passivity of media outlets not engaged politically or financially, worked to Simion’s advantage. Almost every move he made appeared well-timed. His frequent visits across the country and public appearances showcased both his vitality and his remarkable ability to connect with people—perhaps even more effectively than Traian Băsescu once did.

However, during the pre-campaign period, Simion also made a number of moves that cemented his image as a nationalist extremist and revealed potential vulnerabilities. A notable example was the scandal surrounding the military cemetery at Valea Uzului, where he incited tensions and held commemorative events, even after the courts ruled against him. Only the restraint and legal approach of the Hungarian community prevented the situation from escalating into an ethnic conflict.

Another example of Simion’s nationalist extremism is his stance toward the Republic of Moldova, which he has called an artificial state. This position—both anti-European and anti-NATO—led to his ban from entering Moldova.

Such messages resonate strongly with nationalist-leaning Romanians, as does his familiar refrain: “I won’t bow before foreign embassies.” But while real estate development isn’t a constitutional duty of the presidency, representing Romania in foreign relations is. Should Simion become president, he will quickly learn that diplomacy is not about flexing muscles—especially when your country needs help and has little to offer in return.

His threats against Austria would be almost comedic, if they weren’t so tragic, considering Romania’s desperate bid to join Schengen while still lacking a functional highway network.

In late 2023, George Simion organized the fourth International Crisis Summit in Bucharest, led by Dr. Robert Malone, a figure widely known for spreading misinformation about COVID-19, vaccines, and mask mandates.

Things changed drastically at the beginning of 2024 as the local and European elections approached, exposing AUR’s lack of a coherent communication strategy or long-term plan.

The party grew most when Simion acted as a watchdog in Parliament. Sometimes he resorted to aggressive tactics—like grabbing the former energy minister—but more often, he simply shouted. And Romanians, poor at subtlety but great lovers of spectacle, appreciated this kind of drama. This is also why Diana Șoșoacă has grown in popularity. While Simion shouted at the caravan, Șoșoacă shouted at Simion.

But shouting only secures the same nationalist electorate already won through identity politics. Is that enough to win a presidential election?

Attacks against the EU and Ursula von der Leyen don’t win Simion new sympathies, especially among young, pro-European, democracy-loving corporate workers.

His insults and aggressive behavior toward Șoșoacă haven’t helped either. Romanians in the diaspora, who are more familiar with how women are treated in democratic societies, are less inclined to tolerate this kind of conduct.

In 2023, I heard about a strategy allegedly developed by the ruling PSD-PNL coalition: allow certain candidates to move over to AUR temporarily, only for them to return to their original parties later. When I asked Simion about it, he was skeptical. Still, on April 15, 2024, Simion announced that AUR leaders would undergo polygraph tests to prove their loyalty.

The results of this anti-European, anti-vaccine, and anti-NATO rhetoric became clear in the local elections.

In a way, Șoșoacă represented for Simion the darkest face of extremism—the grotesque monster of hatred, nationalism, and fanaticism. After seeing it up close, Simion tried to retain nationalist voters without being labeled an extremist. But that’s difficult to do unless you moderate your discourse. If it walks, talks, and quacks like a duck—well, it’s a duck. George Simion leads a nationalist party not because others label it so, but because of his own words and actions.

Șoșoacă, on the other hand, has embraced her label. Her fanaticism secured her the radical tip of the far-right. The PSD does not want a second-round runoff between its candidate and a liberal—they have historically lost those. So instead, in early October, through their three Constitutional Court judges, the PSD orchestrated the disqualification of Diana Șoșoacă from the race.

At first glance, the move seems to benefit Simion, since extremist votes will now flow his way. Many believed the PSD hoped for a repeat of the 2000 election, when Ion Iliescu defeated nationalist Corneliu Vadim Tudor. In reality, it may have been a trap: by appearing to favor Simion, they could paint him as “a man of the system.”

As a campaigner, George Simion works harder than all the other candidates combined. One clear example is his response to the floods that devastated several villages in the Galați region. Simion mobilized his party and supporters, and for several weeks, they worked on rebuilding roads, assisting villagers, and even constructing new homes. The effort included AUR senators, deputies, and several of the party’s candidates running in this election.

In a move reminiscent of PSD-style tactics, a PNL member requested in early November that the Romanian Intelligence Service (SRI) publish a report on candidates allegedly linked to Russia. The request is, frankly, absurd. First, it is the SRI’s job to monitor such matters proactively—not at the behest of political operatives. Second, Romania is not at war with Russia. Coming so soon after the anti-democratic disqualification of Diana Șoșoacă, the move appears clearly intended to eliminate George Simion from the race based on nothing but speculation.

With only two weeks left before the election, PNL knows its candidate has no real chance of reaching the second round—and they are resorting to desperate measures.

If Șoșoacă and Simion represent the potential threat of extremism, then the two state-sanctioned attacks against them are proof that Romania is not a true democracy. The “communists with a human face” are still the ones deciding who leads this country—not the freely expressed will of the people.

For this reason, Romanians must no longer fall for the rhetoric of “communism with a human face.” If they truly understand the value of democracy, they now have a historic opportunity to hold to account those directly responsible for the country’s disastrous condition—and to initiate a long-overdue political reckoning.

The dictators elected by Romanians with their own hands—those who have crippled this country—are the PSD and, for the last 12 years, their PNL enablers. Once Romanians settle the score with these two corrupt, incompetent, and anti-democratic parties, they can then turn their attention to AUR. This pattern mirrors what we’ve seen in Italy, Switzerland, France, Germany, and the United States.

Those who have caused harm must be held accountable—not those who might cause harm in the future. We will deal with any future risks when the time comes.

For now, PSD and PNL must be removed from the political stage—democratically, through the vote.