Opinion: “PAS Is a Party That Argues with Itself”

The election campaign temporarily muted the frictions between different party factions within PAS; however, the post-election struggle for influence and ministerial positions threatens to make the ruling party’s internal unity very fragile

Sergiu CEBAN, RTA: After PAS secured a comfortable victory, experts began debating how the party officials would ultimately be allocated positions and whether the state would have enough resources to satisfy the appetites of the entire majority faction. If anyone thought that the parliamentary election winners were still popping champagne, they are gravely mistaken. While upbeat speeches about a “new stage on the European path” were being made in public, behind closed doors a tough negotiation over portfolios was already underway. Based on the available information, some conclusions can be drawn about how the internal architecture of influence within the party is structured. Gradually, a picture emerges of who forms the core team, who joins it based on personal loyalty, and which future deputies are merely affiliated with the main influence groups, creating that very invisible network where interests and calculations intertwine. According to sources close to the leadership circles, all real power within the party is concentrated in the hands of a “political trio” – Maia Sandu, Igor Grosu, and Dorin Recean. This represents a kind of balance between external leadership, party management, and the power-technocratic component. Sandu is the unquestioned center of decision-making, the moral and institutional backbone of the regime. Igor Grosu is the party operative, the president’s trusted aide, overseeing the parliamentary faction. Dorin Recean has been entrusted with the executive vertical to ensure the functionality of the administrative apparatus. It was this “trio” that formed the electoral list, assigned people to key positions, and determined future areas of responsibility. But it was precisely at this stage, during the distribution of roles, that the first, seemingly irreconcilable, frictions began to emerge. Clearly, despite its outward unity, PAS is far from a monolithic structure. Within it exists an informal system of sub-factions, each responsible for its own sphere of influence. These can be roughly divided into political, foreign policy, economic, executive-technocratic, and socio-cultural blocks, as well as areas such as security, youth and activists, the diaspora, and regional elites. While the party was in a state of electoral mobilization, all these sub-factions displayed commendable discipline and were fully mobilized to achieve a common strategic goal. However, once the electoral excitement subsided, questions arose such as: who will lead the government, who will take charge of which ministry, and who will occupy the speaker’s chair. It was at this point that the previous cohesion began to rapidly erode, and cautious bureaucratic confrontation replaced unity. The first loud warning came with yesterday’s joint press conference of Igor Grosu and Dorin Recean. At first glance, it appeared to be a demonstration of unity and team spirit, aimed at preventing internal disputes from spilling into the public. In reality, however, it was nothing more than a carefully staged media façade, concealing an obvious internal split even at the level of the political core. According to party sources, Sandu, Grosu, and Recean had already strongly disagreed at the initial stage over who should occupy the main state positions. Dorin Recean’s decision to step down not only from the government but also from parliament and, effectively, from politics, was seen by many experts as a personal protest. Formally, it is presented as fatigue, a change in life stage and professional focus – a classic resignation of one’s own accord with head held high. In reality, however, it strongly resembles a defeat in the internal power struggle, followed by disappointment and a demonstrative, emotional gesture: “carry on without me.” It is difficult to say exactly which positions Recean had hoped for; according to some reports, the speakership of parliament was even under consideration. Apparently, the former prime minister misjudged his ambitions relative to his actual influence, losing the very first battle within the party’s inner circle. There is a certain “echo of Andrei Spinu” in this story, whose political fate is quite telling. As one of the most prominent yet controversial PAS politicians, after a series of high-profile scandals and demotions, he was pushed out of the inner circle and removed from decision-making. This served as a sort of warning to all self-assured party members: personal ambitions, disagreement with the central line, and attempts at blackmail are punished with political isolation. With Recean stepping into the shadows, the balance within PAS will likely shift, leaving the Sandu-Grosu tandem in a dominant position, where Sandu sets the overall course and strategy, and Grosu implements decisions through parliament and state structures. However, this model has obvious flaws. In a situation where the party fully controls the parliament, government, and presidency, internal competition within the political formation arguably becomes the only check and balance in the state. As a result, the entire system of power is assembled manually, like a construction set, through a series of negotiations or agreements, and it will likely crumble just as easily at the first signs of friction between party factions. Undoubtedly, the main source of PAS’s stability will continue to be Maia Sandu, who is still perceived as a symbol of reform. Nevertheless, within the party, the question is increasingly being raised: what will happen after her? With a high personal rating, Sandu has built the party around her own name, which has given it both resilience and, simultaneously, a vulnerability. Without a charismatic political figure, the party risks easily fragmenting into smaller groups. Paradoxically, Sandu’s very success has become a cause of the party’s developmental crisis. Essentially, after years in power, PAS has failed to cultivate new leaders of national stature, while its nominal head enjoys negligible popularity among the public. There are mid-level managers, activists, and loyal operatives, but there are no independent figures capable of leading this party machinery. Against this backdrop within the ruling regime, the country is set to begin negotiations with the European Union and move to the next stage of integration. However, the old approaches will clearly no longer work, as Brussels no longer responds to loud declarations about a “European future” or “values-based choices.” EU officials now speak the language of concrete indicators, reforms, transparency, and effective governance. Given the specific nature of the internal balance within PAS, the European integration project risks turning into a decorative process, one with the right rhetoric but lacking real substance. At first glance, PAS seems to have everything under control: a majority in parliament, a loyal government, and a president from its own ranks. Yet it is becoming increasingly evident that behind this façade of stability lies constant internal tension within the party’s political structure. Each constituent group envisions its own position and the country’s future differently. As long as these interests can be balanced, the system functions – but at the slightest disruption, it risks collapsing. Therefore, it appears that under this fragile formula, the current authorities will continue to govern the country in the coming years. It is quite possible that in the coming weeks we will witness new resignations and unexpected personnel decisions that, to put it mildly, hardly fit into the “bright future” so vividly portrayed by the ruling party during the election campaign. The electoral euphoria is gradually fading, and behind the bright yellow backdrop emerges a familiar scene – the one we have been living in for the past four years together with PAS.