With Moldova’s parliamentary elections set for September 28, 2025, the small Eastern European nation finds itself at a crossroads—torn between competing visions for its future and the shadowy hand of foreign interference. As the campaign enters its final days, Russian disinformation tactics have evolved, the political temperature is rising, and the stakes for both Moldova and its neighbors couldn’t be higher.
According to a recent iData poll published on September 8, the contest is razor-thin. Igor Dodon’s pro-Russian Patriotic Bloc leads with 25.2% support, while President Maia Sandu’s pro-European party trails closely at 24.3%. This near deadlock hints at a deeply divided electorate and a volatile political landscape, where even the smallest shift could tip the balance.
Yet, as Espreso reports, this election cycle is marked by a new breed of Russian interference. Gone are the days of overt propaganda and blatant meddling. Today, Moscow’s hand is subtler but no less dangerous. Political analyst Andrei Curăraru told Espreso, “Compared to the previous presidential elections, we’re seeing two trends: law enforcement is acting much earlier, and the pro-Russian side has become more technologically sophisticated.”
Whereas in previous years, authorities waited until between the first and second rounds to tackle vote-buying, this time Moldovan police and prosecutors are moving swiftly—making arrests almost daily and, crucially, targeting the masterminds rather than just the foot soldiers. But the opposition has adapted, too. Pro-Russian networks now operate through Telegram and a program called TAITO, which allows organizers to sign up participants with a selfie and passport, then pay them via crypto wallets. This approach, Curăraru notes, “lets them distribute payments faster, but it also exposes people to greater risks. If someone gains access to their crypto wallets, all transactions are transparent. This makes people more dependent on the system, because they are tied into this criminal network.”
Despite these technological upgrades, Curăraru describes the pro-Russian campaign as “very weak… there is no real public campaign.” Instead, it’s a shadowy operation focusing on covert vote-buying, disinformation, and enlisting local influencers—such as teachers and clergy—to win over voters in both cities and rural areas. The state’s crackdown is more robust than ever, but the opposition’s methods have also become more elusive.
The disinformation narratives themselves have shifted, too. Curăraru explains, “They have become simpler. In the previous campaign, there was a lot of emphasis on neutrality, but now, especially Ilan Shor (a pro-Russian oligarch), has abandoned that message. He says that we should join the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), adopt the ruble as the national currency, and join the Russia-Belarus Union State.” Other pro-Russian figures are more cautious, focusing on promises of cheap gas and renewed exports to Russia—economic “benefits” Curăraru calls “largely mythical, aimed at making people focus on very basic needs rather than geopolitics or national development.”
The economic pain is real, however. As reported by podrobnosti.ua, the current government’s contract with Gazprom has saddled Moldova with high gas prices and rising tariffs, stoking public discontent. For many Moldovans, those kitchen-table issues may outweigh abstract debates about East versus West, especially as smuggling flourishes in the breakaway region of Transnistria and local leaders travel to Moscow with apparent impunity. Analyst Ihor Reiterovych points out that EU financial assistance for gas has inadvertently propped up the separatist enclave, further muddying the waters.
Meanwhile, the political map has shifted. The pro-Russian Pobeda bloc, led by Ilan Shor, was banned, but its supporters have largely migrated to Dodon’s Patriotic Bloc, which remains unbanned despite numerous accusations. This consolidation of the pro-Russian vote has given Dodon’s bloc a narrow edge in the polls, even as democratic forces lose ground due to perceived failures on Transnistria and economic management.
But perhaps the most potent weapon in the pro-Russian arsenal is fear—specifically, the specter of Ukraine. “There isn’t such an active discussion about refugees as there was in the first years, but what is becoming increasingly evident is the repeated message: don’t repeat Ukraine’s path,” Curăraru told Espreso. Former president Igor Dodon has compared Sandu to Mikheil Saakashvili and Volodymyr Zelenskyy, warning that she faces a choice: fade into irrelevance or “take the Zelenskyy route—getting into conflict with the Russian Federation.”
Disinformation campaigns have seized on these anxieties, spreading rumors that Sandu promised 800 Moldovan volunteers to fight in Ukraine, or that a pro-European victory would mean NATO membership instead of EU integration. Curăraru is clear: “Ukraine is used more indirectly as a scare tactic.” The real message, he says, is to stoke fears about internal problems and the dangers of aligning too closely with the West.
Yet, for all the talk of neutrality, Moldova’s fate is intimately tied to Ukraine’s. As Curăraru put it, “Let’s be realistic—what physical defense capability does Moldova have without Ukraine? Our only shield is Ukraine’s ability to hold out, and that gives us the possibility to simply support Ukraine.”
Political analyst Nicolae Negru agrees that Ukraine is being “used as a scarecrow in our elections.” He told Espreso that authorities have shut down propaganda TV channels, radio stations, and websites, and are fighting fake news and illicit financial flows. But Moscow’s campaign remains relentless, he says, using both hidden and open methods: “Beyond covert, subversive tactics, Moscow does not shy away from direct, cynical lies at the highest level, designed to intimidate our voters.” The key messages are familiar—claims that Moldovan authorities are “Russophobes,” puppets of the West, and that Moldova is being pushed toward war with Russia. Moscow also accuses the government of violating constitutional neutrality by supporting Ukraine and joining EU sanctions.
For many Moldovans, the promises of “cheap” Russian gas and restored ties with Moscow sound tempting, especially as energy bills climb. But Negru cautions that these offers are empty: “They avoid the question of how this gas would even be delivered, and what kind of relationship Moldova would then have with neighboring Ukraine.”
The outcome of the election remains uncertain. Even if Sandu’s party ekes out a win, forming a parliamentary coalition without compromising with pro-Russian forces may prove impossible. As Reiterovych warns, this could turn Moldova into a “gray zone” with no clear path to Europe—a scenario that would strengthen Moscow’s hand not only in Chisinau but across the region. For Ukraine, that’s a troubling prospect, as it would mean contending with both the unresolved Transnistria conflict and a potentially unfriendly government next door.
As Moldovans prepare to cast their ballots, the world is watching. The outcome will shape not only the country’s own future, but also the balance of power on Europe’s eastern frontier. With disinformation swirling, economic pressures mounting, and foreign actors lurking in the background, the stakes have rarely been higher.