Note: “mici” are Romanian grilled sausages, and “manele” is a popular Balkan music genre often associated with kitsch and social controversy.
We live in times where stupidity has slicked back its hair, put on a tricolor tie, and started yelling from every virtual balcony: “We’re taking our country back!” As if we lost it somewhere between a vegetable stall and an uncovered manhole in Bucharest’s Sector 5. And every time I hear slogans like that, I feel my synapses freeze. Because I know what’s coming: a cocktail of cheap nationalism, religion blasted from a car trunk, AI-generated nostalgia, and a sick obsession with anything that sounds like “greatness” but behaves like a low-budget reality show. Welcome to the MAGA era. Not in America—this is the Romanian version, with grilled sausages and manele.
The MAGA ideology—“Make America Great Again”—originated as a political campaign that sold like hot donuts on a street corner. And no, Donald Trump isn’t a role model. He’s a blend of a would-be dictator businessman and a social media influencer with an unlimited budget. He promised to save America, but all he did was split it in two, flood it with hatred and conspiracy theories, and turn politics into a rally stand-up show. We don’t need a Trump from Dâmbovița… or Bistrița… or even Vaslui. MAGA isn’t an ideology, it’s a scam. A scam that in 2025 is called a “marketing strategy” and comes wrapped in patriotic packaging with zero content inside.
And yet—it works. Even here, in our sweet, morally drained Romania, where hope packed its bags a long time ago and left on the first low-cost flight to the West. People are tired—not from work, but from hoping in vain. Fed up to the teeth with campaign promises delivered with fake smiles and fulfilled decades late. Burned to the bone by hospitals that go up in flames faster than a lit cigarette in a gas station, by schools where the only real lesson taught is how to leave the country and never look back. Justice is on an extended vacation, the administration is a chain of nepotistic hires, and the press sells truth bundled with a side of propaganda if you buy in bulk.
You’d think that in the face of such collective disappointment, people would look for real solutions. But no. It’s easier to be seduced by ideological moonshine. In all this emotional and civic swamp, our local MAGA shows up—whether it’s called AUR or rebrands itself every election with other “traditionally Romanian” colors and symbols—like a shot of “țuică” on an empty stomach. It doesn’t make you smarter, doesn’t solve your problems, but gives you the illusion that you’ve woken up, that you’re strong, that you’ve found someone to blame. The perfect illusion for a worn-out people.
And yes, it’s easy to fall for it. Especially when you see ordinary people—with a sincere desire for change—applauding parliamentarians who swear on the Bible, on blood, and on the land that they’ll “save the nation,” but can’t write two coherent sentences without help from staff or ChatGPT (since that’s trendy now). Or when you see George Simion parading through villages with an icon in one hand and a drone in the other, promising Romania’s rebirth among sheep and flags. Or when a local leader explains how the European Union wants “to destroy our traditional family with veganism and gender,” while he’s juggling three mistresses and four state contracts.
But that’s where the real nightmare begins. Because once the populist lie gets comfortable in our heads, the next step comes naturally: “Let’s make Romania great again.” Like a bad sequel to a history movie already romanticized by Sergiu Nicolaescu. And from there come the barroom geostrategic fantasies: “Unification with Moldova, with blood if necessary.” Doesn’t matter that Moldovans don’t want it, that they have their own society and will, that they’re a sovereign state. No, we’ve let the “spirit of our ancestors” get to our heads, and there’s no more room for reason.
And if we’re starting, why stop at Moldova? Northern Bukovina? Wasn’t it ours? Let’s go there too. Southern Bessarabia? Sure, throw that in. Southern Dobruja? Why not! Who cares if it’s in Bulgaria? Our neighbors can’t stand us anyway thanks to our tourists with two-liter beer bottles. The Hungarians? Since we’re dreaming of ideal borders, maybe give them a “patriotic warning” too—show them what a “fearless” Romania looks like.
Soon enough, between the Carpathians and the Balkans, we’ll be watching a bad remake of World War I, directed by nobodies, starring TikTok actors and soldiers lifted from fourth-grade history books.
And all these delusions are cheerfully waved around by people who confuse sovereignty with isolationism, who think diplomacy is a traitor’s sport, and that honor is washed with blood, not intelligence. People who haven’t opened a history book but can quote some ancient Dacian off YouTube. People who think nationalism is measured in red maps and borders thickened with marker pens, not in the well-being of citizens.
And yet… not everyone who raises their voice or puts the tricolor on their profile is crazy. Many are just desperate. Disappointed. Robbed of their future. And if they’re only given two choices—the corrupt “globalist” and the ridiculous “patriot”—it’s no wonder they go for the tricolor-flavored donut. At least it feels Romanian. At least it sounds like revenge. The truth is that the frustrations are real. The solutions are just terrible.
And if you dare say, “Maybe this isn’t the time to start a war in the name of the past,” you’re, at best, labeled a “Brussels sellout,” “traitor,” “Soros puppet,” or “damned globalist.” At worst, people are calling for your head on Facebook or TikTok live. That’s how madness works in the MAGA age: it lures you with glory and throws you into chaos. And Romania, with all its frustrations, risks topping the list of countries turning stupidity into doctrine and propaganda into foreign policy.
The danger is no longer theoretical. Voices are already calling for “action,” not “empty words.” Dreaming of tanks, not treaties. And in a weakened Europe, where borders are increasingly symbolic, Romania risks becoming the perfect lab for an explosive nationalism fueled by frustration, nostalgia, and a massive, massive lack of thinking.
That’s the MAGA ideology: a puffed-up donut filled with the steam of false glory, sold as salvation. It’s a scam, yes—but one that shouts loudly, sells well, and if we’re not careful, will drag us straight into a historical nightmare from which not even raising the flag will wake us.
And so, while we watch this grotesque cartoon—half amused, half terrified—we realize that MAGA, in all its forms, with tricolor flags, crosses held high, and “truths” scraped from the bottom of the internet, isn’t just a scam. It’s an organized scam, ambitious, and posing as a moral revolution. The kind of thinking that says democracy only works when the right people win. That serves hate like a bowl of tripe soup—hot, nauseating, and tasting of regret. That turns shouting into strategy, stupidity into governance, and paranoia into national policy.
It’s collective delirium with branding. An ideological manele blared on busted speakers instead of an anthem. And you, Romanian citizen, with all your trampled dreams and frustrations, you risk humming the chorus. Because it’s easy. Because it blames someone else. Because it feels like a solution—but it’s just a carnival costume thrown over group insanity.
Romania has real problems—we all feel them: in our wallets, in our stomachs, in our nerves, in our nightmares. But the answer isn’t to rewind to the 1940s with TikTok open. It’s not to play “War for Bessarabia,” because history has shown us what happens when we think we’re braver than we are. It’s not a Romanian Trump, more tanned and with a Botoșani accent. It’s not religion turned into a club, or school reduced to quotes from The Legends of the Dacians.
The answer? It’s boring, yes. Tastes like waking up at 7 a.m. and paying taxes. It’s called work. It’s called education. It’s called real justice, not live-streams from the anti-corruption agency. It’s called empathy—caring about others, not just the flag on your Facebook profile. And above all, it’s called the healthy silence of those who, even without answers, at least aren’t shouting nonsense into a megaphone.
But hey… since we’ve come this far: do you really want a Greater Romania, or just a normal one? Do you want a “strong” leader, or just someone who knows what they’re doing and shuts up when they don’t? Do you really want to “save the country,” or just feel a little less powerless? And if tomorrow the “battle for the nation” starts… are you really ready to send your kids to war over some borders from your grandfather’s schoolbooks?
They’re just questions. But sometimes, the questions matter more than all the neatly packaged answers handed out by guys with flags and microphones.
And yeah, maybe this article should’ve been written long before the first round of the 2025 elections. Or maybe even last year, when the ground was already rumbling. But hey… let’s just stay healthy—because predicting stupidity takes a crystal ball and nerves of steel.