Ukraine, Georgia, Moldova: All Quiet on the Eastern Front

Political, financial, and media pressure has become a hallmark of elections in countries seeking to join the European Union. democracy, you said?

The recent parliamentary elections in Moldova, which handed a narrow victory to the pro-European party, offer a striking example of the double standards often displayed by European governments and institutions—mirrored by the Western media’s asymmetrical blindness.

According to mainstream medias, Moldova faced “unprecedented threats” of interference and influence from both Russia and the Romanian far-right. We are expected to take this at face value—despite the geopolitical context, in which Eastern European countries find themselves caught in the crossfire of an EU-Russia standoff, and the well-known biases of “independent” experts, institutions, NGOs, and media outlets that routinely investigate alleged disinformation, cyberattacks, and illegal campaign funding—almost always attributed to Moscow.

Let’s recall what “Russian interference” actually looked like in a neighboring country not so long ago: in Romania, it turned out to be a TikTok campaign launched by the ruling National Liberal Party that backfired spectacularly.

Do we really need to bring up the Russiagate scandal—an elaborate narrative pushed by the Hillary Clinton campaign, mainstream media, and parts of the U.S. security establishment? It was entirely fabricated. There was no proven Russian interference.

Clearly, meddling in democratic processes is not the exclusive domain of one geopolitical bloc. Just 48 hours before Moldova’s election, two opposition parties—both seen as pro-Russian—were barred from running. Thousands of Moldovan citizens living in Russia were reportedly prevented from voting (according to a Kremlin statement). Meanwhile, Pavel Durov, the CEO of Telegram, accuses French President Emmanuel Macron, of interference.

Should we really be surprised that both the EU and Russia are vying to influence Moldova’s political future? After all, the stakes are high: Moldova’s potential EU membership hangs in the balance. A win for the pro-European camp moves the country closer to accession. A win for the other side would bring that process to an abrupt halt. Georgia offers a telling precedent, to which we’ll return.

In this geopolitical chess match, Moldova—like Georgia or Ukraine—looks increasingly like a pawn. The EU’s rush to bring Eastern countries into its fold seems primarily aimed at weakening Russian influence. There’s little other strategic logic at play. As U.S. journalist Tim Weiner has revealed, the CIA helped Ukraine prepare strikes against Russia, and Moscow had reportedly been tipped off about the invasion plans through indirect channels.

No one disputes that elections are subject to foreign influence. But why is there so little attention given to EU interference—often blatant, and barely disguised? Moldova is only the latest example of Brussels’ stick-and-carrot diplomacy.

Last spring, the EU pledged €1.9 billion to Moldova in support of judicial, energy, and anti-corruption reforms. In principle, this might seem legitimate. But with funds already disbursed before the September 28 vote—and those same pledges being actively promoted during the campaign—it’s hard not to see this as a form of electoral interference. There’s also precedent.

On October 10, 2024—just ten days before the first round of Moldova’s presidential elections and a referendum on EU membership—European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen personally announced the funding. The pro-EU candidate won. The “Yes” vote on EU accession passed—barely—thanks to diaspora ballots.

Stick and carrot—or carrot and stick?

The same playbook was rolled out in Georgia, albeit in reverse. After receiving a modest EU aid package as a membership candidate, Georgia’s ruling party—perceived as pro-Russian—pushed through a “foreign agents” law, modeled almost word-for-word on the U.S. Foreign Agent Registration Act. The legislation required individuals or organizations receiving foreign funding to register as “foreign agents” if engaged in political activity. Brussels didn’t take kindly to this spotlight on foreign influence. One month later, EU aid was frozen, and Georgia’s accession process came to a screeching halt, Brussels citing Russian meddling.

Ukraine is another instructive case. In June 2022, the country received candidate status for EU membership—alongside a €50 billion aid pledge. Anticipated legislative elections, originally scheduled for July 2023, were ultimately postponed. The EU’s involvement, under the guise of anti-corruption efforts, amounted to a massive injection of funds into a politically fragile environment—with limited results.

Then there’s Albania. EU accession negotiations opened in 2024, along with a €1 billion financing plan. A few months later, in May 2025, the ruling Socialist Party secured another parliamentary victory—despite ongoing allegations of vote-buying and misuse of public resources. These are not new claims. Back in May 2021, investigative outlet BIRN reported that police had ignored evidence of vote-buying by the Socialist Party.

Yet, the EU’s strategy failed in the Balkans. North Macedonia and Serbia resisted the pressure—despite similar incentives. In February 2024, North Macedonia received a €500 million EU pledge just two months before its national elections. It didn’t work. Nationalist and Eurosceptic parties won. In Serbia, a €1.5 billion announcement in the run-up to the 2023 legislative elections had no measurable effect either.

In all these cases, the EU’s engagement is framed as “support” for reform, democracy, and stability. But the timing, amounts, and political outcomes raise legitimate concerns about how deeply Brussels is willing to intervene in the domestic politics of candidate countries—all while condemning Russia for doing the same.