After the Elections: Moldova’s Opposition Between Defeat, Crisis, and the Illusion of Struggle

Sergiu CEBAN

The new composition of Parliament will likely mark an “opposition of conformists”, characterized by loud statements, ritualistic criticism, and minor jabs, but posing no real threat to those in power

Whatever anyone may say, the parliamentary elections represented a painful and humiliating defeat for the opposition. Even if one concedes that the ruling party leveraged administrative resources and ran a campaign with a level of aggressiveness befitting authoritarian regimes, this does not in any way excuse the sheer scale of the failure. Ultimately, the strength of any opposition is measured not by the obstacles it faces, but by its own ability to resist, organize, and inspire. This time, PAS’ competitors proved incapable of doing any of these. Even judging by our own forecasts, the defeat of the opposition parties was hardly a surprise. What is far more concerning is how weakly and lethargically they responded. Not a single attempt to challenge the election results, no slightest sign of political mobilization, not even public outrage. Instead, there were only ritualistic statements denouncing PAS’ misdeeds, dull press releases, and, ultimately, complete submission. Such silence is not only an acknowledgment of complete defeat but also an internal capitulation. In effect, most opposition parties have assessed the election results as “fully legitimate”, thereby confirming that they lack the will, the strength, and a coherent strategy to contest within the post-electoral window of opportunity. Moreover, these symptoms point to a deeper crisis within the opposition camp, which has not only lost the elections but also its faith in its own ability to effect change and along with it, the voters who had hoped for at least some degree of transformation. Arguably, the most striking blow fell on the left flank. The “Patriotic Bloc”, which shaped its campaign around slogans opposing the so-called “European dictatorship”, has likely delivered the “final gasp” of the left-wing opposition in its familiar form. The figures of this group – Voronin, Dodon, Tarlev – belong to a generation that has been active in politics for over two decades, and their electoral base is naturally aging and shrinking. The younger generation, meanwhile, does not identify with nostalgia for the Soviet past and rejects rhetoric grounded in the rudimentary logic of an “East versus West” confrontation. Consequently, it is highly probable that for this pack of old political bigwigs”, this will be their final parliamentary term. They will exit the stage not because they “desire to”, but because their era has irreversibly passed. The Party of Socialists, which forms the core of the bloc, remains nominally the main opposition force, yet in practice it has long since become a convenient partner for any Moldovan government. Igor Dodon, who publicly pledged to “save the country from the pro-European course”, has traditionally shown loyalty behind the scenes to those he himself calls “usurpers”. A telling example, clearly signaling a tacit understanding between the Socialists and the authorities, is the recent news that the consideration of the “Kuliok” case has been postponed indefinitely. In this context, it is hardly surprising that Vladimir Voronin has already publicly announced his intention to withdraw the Communist Party from the joint faction with the PSRM, choosing instead to pursue an independent course. For a veteran of Moldovan politics, remaining “in the same boat” with a figure like Dodon would mean sharing his reputation. And who, if not Voronin himself, knows the true worth of the Socialist leader? The only figure capable of bringing fresh momentum to Moldova’s left-wing opposition was Irina Vlah. Her removal from the electoral race became both an alarming signal and a painful blow to her political ambitions. According to rumors, one of the key initiators of Vlah’s exclusion was none other than Dodon himself, who feared losing the remnants of his influence and being consigned to political oblivion. As a result of these intrigues, the opposition lost a promising politician capable not only of uniting the left and centrist electorate but also of emerging as one of the viable contenders in the next presidential elections. It appears that the old guard is still unwilling to yield space to new leaders and this, in turn, will remain one of the main reasons why the opposition continues to deteriorate. The “Alternativa” bloc turned out to be one of the major disappointments of the recent parliamentary elections. Despite the solid personal ratings of Ion Ceban and Alexandr Stoianoglo, the movement failed to evolve into a stable political structure. The former Prosecutor General, who still enjoyed a considerable level of public trust last year following his victory in Moldova’s internal presidential race, chose not to take risks and instead invested his hopes in a “political pyramid”, ultimately squandering all of his political capital. Ceban’s decision to remain in his position as mayor and refrain from engaging in a long-term political struggle with PAS, despite having potential access to a parliamentary platform, effectively removes him from the national political stage. The capital’s mayor has previously displayed traits of “political flexibility”, seeking to demonstrate loyalty to the authorities: from signing the “For Europe” pact to making conspicuously friendly gestures toward Maia Sandu during the presidential campaign. Should the ruling party ultimately decide to assert control over the capital, Ceban risks losing both the mayoralty and a seat in Parliament. In fact, this is often how the careers of politicians attempting to sit on two chairs simultaneously tend to end. Renato Usatii and his “Our Party” are a typical example of anti-system populism: capable of loudly criticizing the authorities, yet incapable of offering anything constructive. Such projects usually serve as a form of “electoral entertainment” and a vent for accumulated socio-political tensions within society, acting as little more than a “noisy accompaniment” to real politics. Vasile Costiuc’s “Democracy at Home” party sits on the same niche. Its anti-system rhetoric resonates with a segment of disillusioned citizens, yet in practical terms, such political projects are incapable of serving as a driving force for state development and transformation. Consequently, even if the Constitutional Court were to annul the mandates of “Democracy at Home”, this would hardly act as a catalyst for mass protest. And therein lies the major diagnosis: the current opposition lacks the ability to turn even obvious lawlessness into a tool for mobilization and pressure on the ruling regime. Against the backdrop of such political apathy, PAS’ victory seems both natural and inevitable. People may be dissatisfied with their standard of living, corruption, or the country’s foreign policy course, but, alas, they lack an adequate alternative – a force capable of fighting and offering a forward-looking vision for the nation. This explains the paradox: even as public frustration grows, the ruling party continues to win. The key is not the particular charisma of Sandu, nor even of PAS’ leaders, but the fact that the political landscape has been so thoroughly burned out that there is practically no one left to challenge the authorities. The remnants of old political formations clearly do not provide any source of vitality or hope for the future. In the new composition of Parliament, we will clearly face an “opposition of conformists”, characterized by loud statements, ritualistic criticism, and minor jabs, yet posing no real threat to those in power. This safe, decorative opposition fits perfectly into the system constructed by the current political regime. On one hand, it’s bad: Parliament loses its fundamental function of checks and balances. On the other hand, such a configuration could eventually create an opportunity for the emergence of new political forces. It is clear that the “extinction” of old parties and leaders is an inevitable process, and sooner or later the vacated space in the center and on the left flank will be occupied by new players. The demand for this in society is evident – consider the nearly 30% of undecided voters on the eve of this year’s elections. This is not political apathy, abstention, or protest; it is a clear sign of anticipation. Can we expect a genuine opposition to emerge in the coming years? Perhaps, but only on the condition that new political leaders are able to offer society more than mere “anti-PAS” rhetoric. People do not need the slogan “against Sandu”; they need a fresh and convincing program “for Moldova”. It is high time for the new opposition to learn to speak about the future rather than nostalgia, about reforms rather than revenge, about prosperity rather than geopolitical blocs.