THE NOISY CLOWN, A REAL DANGER!

George Simion, this self-styled savior of the nation, has built his career on shouting nationalist slogans in public squares and playing the role of a heroic patriot. In reality, he is a volatile mix of crude populism and latent aggression. A dangerous figure, with a hardened glare and a smirking half-grin that seems to say: Just let me get to power, and then you’ll see. If given the chance, he will become a textbook autocrat—one who would make Ceaușescu, Iliescu, and even Georgescu look like gentlemen playing chess in the park.

George Simion, the leader of the right-wing party AUR from Romania.

A ringleader of football hooligans and a career provocateur, Simion is exactly what he appears to be: the head of a far-right faction, clutching a nationalist manifesto under his arm, peddling the same paranoid, ultranationalist rhetoric that has poisoned Romanian politics before. He evokes the spirit of the infamous interwar legionnaires—Nicadori reborn—wrapped in the same old slogans of sacrifice for the nation and an imaginary glorious future. Strip away the politics, and Simion would likely be the most unbearable neighbor in your apartment block—the kind who blasts military anthems at dawn and pounds on the ceiling if you sneeze in Greek. He lives in a world of his own making, where Romania is a besieged medieval fortress under constant threat from invisible enemies, and he is the knight in shining armor—except he looks more like a van driver ranting about national betrayal on livestream. Morally speaking, Simion has no father, no mother. No principle is too sacred for him to twist, no red line too bold for him to cross. His so-called love of country is little more than an obsessive hunger for power, and his speeches—where nationalist fervor blends with thinly veiled threats—reveal his true ambition: to climb to the top and clean house, purging “traitors,” “foreigners,” and “enemies of the people.” Sound familiar? History is full of these prophets of hate. His image as an unpolished but “authentic” man of the people is nothing but a crude mask, designed to attract the most fervent nostalgics of an artificially glorified past. The truth? Simion is just another small-time agitator masquerading as a statesman, a man whose idea of political discourse is street brawling, not debate. Every public appearance is an orchestrated spectacle: Simion, the nationalist martyr, persecuted by “the system” and “foreign interests,” yet always defiant. But beneath this cheap stagecraft lies a ruthless opportunist, willing to trample over anything and anyone to satisfy his messianic ambitions. A budding Ceaușescu—only sharper, more deliberate, and fully aware of how to stoke division, incite hatred, and radicalize his followers. If he gains power? Brace yourselves. History teaches us that figures like him never rise alone—they bring with them a chorus of enforcers, ready to turn every institution into a propaganda machine and every citizen into a foot soldier for the cause. When aggressive populism meets social frustration, the outcome is always the same: disaster. Simion is not just a noisy clown. He is a real threat. And those laughing at his circus now may find nothing amusing when the final act begins. It won’t be a comedy.