by Remus Pricopie, PhD
Rector of the National University of Political Studies and Public Administration (SNSPA)
Bucharest, Romania
For many Israelis, Romania is remembered through a painful historical reality: before the Second World War, Romania was home to one of the largest Jewish communities in Europe. Hundreds of thousands of Jews lived, studied, built businesses, wrote books, and contributed decisively to the cultural and economic life of the country. That world was shattered during the Holocaust.
The pogroms in Iași and Bucharest, the deportations to Transnistria, and the crimes committed under the regime of Marshal Ion Antonescu and with the participation of the Legionary / Iron Guard Movement remain among the darkest chapters in Romania’s modern history. Historians have long established that Romania was not merely a passive observer of the Holocaust, but one of the states directly responsible for the persecution and murder of Jews during the war.
After the fall of communism, Romania moved slowly and sometimes hesitantly toward acknowledging this history. Yet over the last two decades, important progress was made. The Romanian state officially assumed responsibility for the Holocaust through the conclusions of the International Commission chaired by Elie Wiesel. Institutions dedicated to Holocaust research and education were created. Cooperation with Israel, the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, and Western democratic partners deepened. Legislation banning fascist, Legionary, racist, and antisemitic propaganda was adopted.
For many Romanians, these developments created the impression that the major battles over historical memory had already been settled.
That assumption is now being tested.
On 21 April 2026, Todiriță Mirel, a local councilor from Balotești – a town near Bucharest – and member of the nationalist AUR party, submitted an official request to the Romanian Parliament and Government demanding the dissolution of the National Institute for the Study of the Holocaust in Romania “Elie Wiesel”, a Romanian state institution at the forefront of the fight against antisemitism, Holocaust denial, and the rehabilitation of fascist ideology, as well as the cancellation and abandonment of the future Holocaust Museum project in Bucharest.
This was not an anonymous online provocation. It was not graffiti on a wall or a slogan shouted during a rally. It was an official political document sent by an elected official.
At first glance, such an episode could be dismissed as marginal extremism. That would be a mistake.
The significance of this moment lies not only in the request itself, but in the broader political ecosystem surrounding it. The Balotești episode is part of a larger phenomenon unfolding in Romania over recent years: the normalization of pro-Legionary / Iron Guard discourse, the symbolic rehabilitation of fascist figures, and the increasing institutional tolerance toward antisemitic narratives.
Only after significant public criticism – including reactions from the United States Embassy in Bucharest and from major democratic institutions in Romania – did local AUR leaders announce that they intended to sanction or even exclude the local official responsible for the initiative. Yet the delayed nature of the reaction is itself revealing. The problem was not identified internally as morally unacceptable from the outset, but only after the episode generated public and diplomatic costs.
One of the clearest examples is Sorin Lavric, senator and senior figure within AUR. Since 2021, Lavric has repeatedly used the Romanian Senate’s platform to praise individuals associated with the Legionary / Iron Guard Movement, presenting them as “forgotten patriots.” These interventions are not accidental or isolated. They form a coherent and repeated pattern.
What makes the situation even more serious is the mechanism through which this discourse is amplified. Lavric’s speeches are not merely tolerated within the party. They are systematically republished and promoted through AUR’s official communication channels, including party websites and social media platforms. In other words, these messages are institutionally disseminated and transformed into part of the party’s official identity.
At one point, Lavric also publicly attacked the legacy of Elie Wiesel himself, portraying him as an illegitimate moral authority imposed upon Romanian society. Such rhetoric follows a familiar pattern seen in many extremist movements: first relativize the crimes, then attack the memory, then delegitimize the institutions responsible for preserving that memory.
The case of Călin Georgescu reveals another dimension of the same phenomenon. Georgescu, who was formally indicted in Romania in 2025 for promoting Legionary ideology and the cult of war criminals, has repeatedly spoken positively about the Iron Guard and promoted the idea of a symbolic or spiritual revival of its “values.”
He has publicly praised figures associated with the Antonescu regime and incorporated antisemitic themes into broader geopolitical narratives. In a public podcast during the summer of 2024, Georgescu claimed that the assassination attempt against Donald Trump had been a “Hollywood-style PR operation” and stated that MAGA had become “MIGA – Make Israel Great Again.” In the same discussion, he referred to J. D. Vance as “a virus,” implying that American politics was being subordinated to Jewish interests.
Romania has unfortunately also exported part of this extremist and antisemitic discourse to the European level through Diana Iovanovici-Șoșoacă, currently a member of the European Parliament. In April 2026, the European Parliament voted to lift her immunity in order to allow Romanian judicial authorities to investigate allegations related to the promotion of Legionary ideology, Holocaust denial or relativization, and the glorification of war criminals. The decision was an important institutional signal that democratic Europe is unwilling to treat such manifestations as politically harmless eccentricities.
The broader political significance of these developments became even more evident in May 2026, when a large group of AUR senators and deputies, together with members of several smaller extremist parties, promoted a legislative initiative aimed at drastically weakening Romania’s anti-extremism and anti-antisemitism legislation. Presented under the language of “defending national interests” and protecting “freedom of expression,” the proposal sought to undermine the legal framework prohibiting fascist, Legionary / Iron Guard, racist, and antisemitic propaganda. Among the initiators was senator Sorin Lavric himself.
Particularly troubling was the fact that, on 13 May 2026, a committee of the Romanian Senate issued a favorable opinion on the proposal under unclear political circumstances regarding the formation of the majority that supported it. The episode demonstrated that the attempt to relativize or weaken anti-extremist legislation is no longer confined to fringe rhetoric, but has entered parliamentary and institutional dynamics.
This mixture of fascist nostalgia, conspiracy theory, anti-Western rhetoric, and coded antisemitism is not unique to Romania. Similar ideological mixtures can be observed elsewhere in Europe and beyond. But Romania’s case carries particular historical gravity because of the country’s direct involvement in the Holocaust.
The role of George Simion, leader of AUR, must also be examined carefully. Simion himself often avoids explicit antisemitic language. Yet leadership responsibility cannot be measured only by personal statements. It must also be assessed through institutional behavior.
Sorin Lavric continues to hold leadership positions within AUR and in the Romanian Senate without sanction or correction. Călin Georgescu has been publicly supported by Simion and explicitly proposed by him for the position of Prime Minister. Following the Balotești incident, AUR eventually announced disciplinary measures against the local official involved, but only after significant public and diplomatic backlash. More importantly, when AUR parliamentarians later supported legislative initiatives aimed at drastically weakening Romania’s anti-extremism and anti-antisemitism legislation, Simion did not publicly denounce or oppose these actions. In political terms, such silence is itself significant. It reinforces the perception that these initiatives are not isolated deviations, but part of a broader political direction tolerated – and implicitly validated – by the party leadership
This is an essential point: the problem is no longer limited to isolated individuals. AUR’s institutional behavior demonstrates a systematic tolerance – and, at times, promotion – of narratives linked to Legionary nostalgia and antisemitic discourse.
Many of these political actors attempt to shield or legitimize antisemitic and pro-Legionary discourse under the umbrella of freedom of expression. Democratic societies, however, distinguish between protecting free speech and institutionally legitimizing extremist ideologies that historically sought the destruction of democracy itself. In the United States, for example, when local political figures associated with the Republican Party were accused of antisemitic rhetoric in recent years, the response was often rapid and explicit: public distancing, withdrawal of political support, and internal sanctions. The purpose of such reactions was not to suppress political freedom, but to reaffirm a fundamental democratic principle – that antisemitism and fascist nostalgia cannot become normalized components of legitimate political discourse.
Democracies have always had extremists. The real danger emerges when extremist narratives stop functioning as political marginalia and begin entering institutional life, parliamentary discourse, public administration, and official party communication.
Romania today is not the Romania of the 1930s. It is a member of NATO, the European Union, and a close strategic partner of the United States and Israel. Yet democratic institutions alone do not immunize societies against historical regression. Political culture matters. Historical memory matters. Moral clarity matters.
And this is precisely why the attack against the “Elie Wiesel” Institute matters so deeply. Because when political actors begin targeting institutions responsible for Holocaust memory and education, society is no longer simply debating history. It is beginning to renegotiate the moral boundaries of democracy itself.
In recent years, public criticism and symbolic distancing have existed in Romania. But experience increasingly shows that discursive condemnation alone is insufficient. Legal mechanisms are important, and some investigations are already underway under Romanian legislation banning fascist and antisemitic propaganda. Yet legal action alone cannot solve a problem that is simultaneously political, cultural, educational, and institutional.
A broader democratic response is needed. Political parties must stop treating antisemitism as negotiable collateral in electoral competition. Universities, media institutions, civil society, and international partners must react consistently and clearly. Western democracies – including the United States and Israel – should avoid dismissing such developments as local political noise or temporary populist excess.
History teaches a different lesson. Extremist discourse rarely remains symbolic for long.
The challenge facing Romania today is not simply about a few radical voices. It concerns whether democratic society still possesses the moral confidence to defend the historical truth about fascism, antisemitism, and the Holocaust before these ghosts become normalized once again.
May 17, 2026