FLASH
Shkruar nga Spyros Sideris
Greece and Bulgaria are examples of nations where prolonged one-party rule and widespread corruption make crises of representation chronic.
Political history rarely repeats itself, but it often rhymes. In recent years, Greece and Bulgaria have been walking in parallel on a path of political erosion, where the long-term dominance of ruling parties, widespread perceptions of corruption, and state capture no longer guarantee stability but rather accelerate crisis.
In Bulgaria, since 2021 the country has entered a prolonged phase of instability: back-to-back elections, short-lived governments and an increasingly fragmented system. At the center of this crisis stood Boyko Borissov’s GERB party, similar to New Democracy in Greece, both part of the European People’s Party. They build power on networks of influence, administrative control and powerful alliances that are difficult to dismantle. In both cases, accusations of corruption are not just opposition slogans, but factors that have undermined the social contract: the illusion that “at least there is order”.
But what is more worrying, in both Bulgaria and Greece, is that the erosion of the ruling party has not produced a credible alternative. On the contrary, it has acted as a dispersing force. In Bulgaria, the collapse of trust in GERB has brought not a united opposition bloc, but a series of new parties, personal projects and opportunistic alliances. The result? A fragmented political market, where the old establishment, although damaged, returns as an “indispensable regulator,” not because it convinces, but because opponents fail to organize.
In Greece, the picture is similar. PASOK fell first, devastated by the economic crisis and the memorandum. SYRIZA rose as a shock force, but its governance, internal contradictions and strategic defeat led it to slide and disintegration. Today, the opposition is more divided than ever, while Kyriakos Mitsotakis’ New Democracy is losing ground, with a steady decline in the polls and open dissatisfaction in public discourse.
Fragmentation is not a rebirth, but a symptom of collapse. The debates about the return of Alexis Tsipras, the independent movements of Antonis Samaras, or the emergence of figures like Maria Karystianou speak of a thirst of society for an “emergency exit” from the existing system, not necessarily for some new project, but because it can no longer cope with the old one.
Worse still, it is not just fatigue that is eroding the system. It is the deepening sense that power has become a self-defense mechanism. The wiretapping scandals, the Tempe tragedy, the allegations of embezzlement and cronyism, the weak institutional control, have all reinforced the perception that the state does not work the same for everyone. And when the government responds with denials, PR arrogance, and shifting responsibility, it does not heal the wounds: it turns them into political bloodshed.
Like GERB in Bulgaria, New Democracy survives not in spite of its erosion, but thanks to the structures that produce it. Corruption, real or perceived, feeds the control, silencing, subordination, and weakening of opponents. And opposition fragmentation makes the ruling party, even wounded, the “safest alternative.” “Stability,” in this context, is not a value: it is a form of political blackmail through stagnation.
The Bulgarian experience is a clear warning: instability does not automatically bring about cleansing or reform. It can turn into a dangerous cycle where old structures regenerate under new guises, while society sinks into cynicism.
Greece and Bulgaria, beyond their differences, are examples of countries where the long dominance of one party, control over institutions and the perception of corruption have turned the crisis of representation into a permanent state. And in this landscape, fragmentation is not hope, it is the last form of power that governs even when weakened, through networks, mechanisms and above all, disappointment. /Adapted from “IbnaEu"
Lini një Përgjigje