Bloomberg: A Romanian Presidential Election Intervened by Crypto Traders

Original Title: Did Romania's "King of TikTok" Really Sway a Presidential Election?

Original Author: Simona Weinglass, Bloomberg

Original Translation: Saoirse, Foresight News

In the real world, Bogdan Peschir is a 36-year-old cryptocurrency trader from the fairy-tale town of Brașov in Transylvania. From his home balcony, he can see red-roofed houses, Gothic churches, and the changing seasons on Tampa Mountain. On TikTok, however, he is known as Bogpr, the largest "tipper" on the Romanian platform.

Peschir particularly enjoys spending money on streamers. If you are live on TikTok and do something that catches his attention and earns his approval—like jumping into a canal or doing a backflip—he might watch and send you animated gifts that sweep across the screen. These gifts range in price from a few cents to hundreds of dollars, and recipients can exchange them for cash. At this scale, digital gifts are no longer just likes from strangers.

Peschir keeps tipping, and his follower count is approaching 200,000. His continuous spending allows him to unlock cooler and more expensive gifts: like virtual Thunder Falcons and Fire Phoenixes. By the fall of 2024, he reached TikTok's highest level of 50, securing his position as one of the top tippers in Europe. He also gained a rare privilege: the ability to send soaring animated Pegasi to streamers he approves of. This is a special kind of fame, but Romanian prosecutors say this influence is extremely powerful. They arrested Peschir, accusing him of using money and prestige to help an eccentric far-right candidate win the first round of the Romanian presidential election in November 2024.

This candidate, Călin Georgescu, made a nearly overnight comeback. Polls three weeks before the election showed his support at just 1%, and he didn't even qualify for the major national television debates. Yet he secured 22.9% of the vote in the first round, surpassing 12 other opponents. Within three days, Romania's Supreme Defense Council announced that the election had been subject to external interference. Officials declassified five partially redacted intelligence documents, accusing a "state actor" of intervening in the vote. Germany and the United States pointed to Russia as the culprit.

The entire operation was conducted online, primarily through TikTok. Tens of thousands of fake accounts created the illusion of Georgescu's popularity, pushing him into everyone's feeds. According to a report from the French government, the hashtag #calingeorgescu was viewed 73.2 million times on TikTok within seven days—an unprecedented level of attention for a country with a population of 19 million and about 9 million TikTok users. Prosecutors claim Peschir was involved: he directed his tips towards creators promoting Georgescu and liked and commented on content supporting the candidate. He wrote in a text to acquaintances, "I'm doing everything I can to give him exposure."

Cǎlin Georgescu two days after winning the first round of the Romanian presidential election, ten days before his victory was declared invalid.
Photographer: Andrei Pungovschi / Getty Images

Prosecutors suspect that these actions were crucial to Russia's overall plan to support Georgescu's rise, possibly even a coordinated effort. They claim Peschir's role in boosting Georgescu's support was "decisive." Nicușor Dan, the Romanian president elected after Georgescu was disqualified, publicly criticized Peschir. However, Peschir has not been formally charged. He claims the government's assertions are nonsense: he simply enjoys generously tipping TikTok influencers with his independently earned money, and he happens to be a fan of Călin Georgescu.

For Romania, which was under pro-Soviet dictatorship from 1944 to 1989, the idea of Kremlin manipulation of elections is particularly sensitive. The Romanian authorities' response has been remarkably rare in similar incidents. In December 2024, Romania's Constitutional Court declared the election results invalid, citing violations of election law: first, "opaque use" of digital technology and artificial intelligence; second, Georgescu's campaign funding sources were undeclared. The court announced a re-election for May 2025 and banned Georgescu from running.

In March 2025, Peschir's arrest made headlines. He entered the Bucharest police headquarters wearing a hat, mask, and sunglasses, reluctantly removing them in front of the cameras to reveal his neat hairstyle and sharp features. Prosecutors charged him with "electronically bribing voters" and requested his detention while they refined the charges. About a month later, he was released. After that, a police drone hovered outside his balcony for months, and every new laptop he bought was confiscated by the police.

Prosecutors claim that in the ten months leading up to the election, Peschir spent nearly $900,000 on TikTok gifts, tipping over 250 Romanian influencers. In the last 31 days, he sent gifts worth $381,000 to accounts supporting Georgescu. The government claims this was undeclared illegal campaign funding.

Peschir vehemently denies any wrongdoing. "The government has not presented any evidence," he said in an email to Bloomberg Businessweek, "this is a completely fabricated story, just to find a reason to annul the election." He denies being directed by Moscow, stating, "No one can command me except God, and I haven't taken a dime from anyone in years."

The police say the case is still under investigation. Businessweek has reviewed reports from Romanian intelligence and Peschir's lengthy text message records, and has spoken with him via conversations and emails. These messages particularly resemble a window into the bizarre world of social media-assisted campaigning. This reclusive individual unexpectedly became a symbolic figure in what may be the most successful Russian election interference operation of the 21st century.

Bogpr has been active on TikTok since at least 2023, but truly rose to fame in March 2024—eight months before the election. At that time, he sent gifts worth tens of thousands of dollars to Romanian singer Nicolae Guță. According to Peschir himself, he earned the nickname "King of TikTok" in his home country because of this.

TikTok's economic model revolves around the purchase of virtual coins on the platform. In Romania, one coin is slightly above 1 cent. Peschir can spend 1 coin to buy a virtual rose, 30,000 coins for a lion, and 44,999 coins for a "universe." (It is unknown whether he ever purchased the Pegasus gift worth 42,999 coins.) Recipients of gifts can exchange them for virtual diamonds, which can then be converted into real money—about half of what the tipper spent, with the other half going to TikTok as commission. (The company refuses to disclose the exact commission rate.)

In the initial months, Peschir's tips to streamers seemed almost unrelated to the election. He would respond to donation requests, such as from parents of terminally ill children; he tipped young female streamers who lip-synced and didn't speak; he also sent gifts to people simply filming themselves driving or chopping wood.

"I would go live, wear a skirt, play an NPC—non-player character in a game—to attract his attention," said Gheorghe-Daniel Alexe, a Romani hip-hop artist known as Bahoi. According to prosecutors, he received gifts worth $2,400 from Peschir. Alexe noted that others would tip as well, but Peschir was on a completely different level.

Very few TikTok creators knew Peschir's real name or appearance. Alexe recalled that he rarely revealed anything about himself, only saying he believed in God and found joy in giving money away. "He said, 'I have too much money, nothing impresses me because nothing stimulates me,'" Alexe recounted, "only giving stimulates me."

Peschir's generation grew up during a period of intense social transformation. In 1989, the Ceaușescu regime collapsed along with the Iron Curtain, ending the communist dictatorship rooted in the Soviet occupation after World War II. Romania opened up to the West, joining NATO in 2004 and the EU in 2007. In the years that followed, Romania's economy soared, transforming from a country known for orphans into the second-largest economy in Eastern Europe, after Poland. Today, Bucharest, like many European capitals, has street performers, boutique cafes, and co-working spaces. Yet many Romanians have been left behind. According to EU statistics, nearly 30% face the risk of poverty or social exclusion, the second-highest rate in the EU.

Far-right forces in Romania began to emerge online in the early 2010s. Oana Popescu-Zamfir, director of the Bucharest think tank GlobalFocus Centre, said these groups include extreme football fans, hip-hop enthusiasts, anti-LGBTQ activists, and advocates for the unification of Romani people. They gradually coalesced around a new party called the "Alliance for the Union of Romanians" (AUR)—nationalistic, nostalgic, and criticized for its authoritarian undertones, with a core message of embracing tradition and Christianity.

Georgescu was once a member of AUR, sharing a similar worldview with personal flair. He referred to Ukraine as a "fictional country," called the far-right leader of the "Legionary Movement," which killed Jews and political opponents in the decades before World War II, a "hero," and claimed he "united thousands with a goal, a belief, national identity, and the purity of Romanians." He also predicted that humans would communicate telepathically in the future and claimed to have seen aliens. (Georgescu did not respond to requests for comment.)

In mainstream political circles, Georgescu is seen as an oddball. But on TikTok, his image is entirely different. In one video, he swims in a frozen lake, showcasing his muscular arms; in another, he rides a white horse wearing a traditional embroidered shirt. He calls himself the "son of a farmer" and "the soul of the nation," declaring that Romania's current leadership is corrupt and has sold the country to foreign companies. He claims to be the last hope of the nation against globalist forces that want to destroy Christianity and Romania's unique identity. Georgescu's ideology is broadly referred to as "sovereigntism," pitting ordinary people against elites, nation-states against the EU and NATO, and tradition against progressivism.

These statements deeply resonated with Peschir. He wrote in a text, "I feel this person is sent by God. Now we have a chance in Romania."

Undoubtedly, in the weeks leading up to the November 2024 Romanian election, strange events unfolded. Passwords of employees at the Romanian electoral authority were leaked on Russian hacker forums. Romanian intelligence reports indicated over 85,000 cyberattacks targeted electoral infrastructure, seemingly from 33 countries, but the reports suggested this was likely a ruse created by IP spoofing.

Clearly, one or more powerful forces were attempting to subvert the Romanian election while trying to cover their tracks.

According to French media Mediapart, Romanian intelligence privately informed their French counterparts that they believed these attacks were coordinated by Russia. The report stated that Romania traced one of the attacks back to the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR) hacker group APT29, also known as "Cozy Bear."

In October 2025, President Dan finally publicly stated that the government had traced all interference actions, including Georgescu's uncontrolled social media campaigning, back to Russia. On October 2, Dan presented Romania's interim investigation results to European leaders in Copenhagen.

The president stated that Russia's actions began as early as 2019, when a Russian company started conducting social profiling of Romanians. Years later, a plethora of Romanian Facebook groups suddenly emerged, focusing on alternative medicine, religion, recipes, and more, with names like "Only the True God" and "The Beauty of Romania." Dan stated that these seemingly harmless groups aimed to test different narrative strategies on various Romanian demographics.

Romanian investigations revealed that Russian digital marketers ultimately identified four major themes: "Romanians are most receptive to narratives about identity, nostalgia, conspiracy theories, religion, and alternative medicine," said Romanian Attorney General Alex Florenta at a press conference two weeks before Dan's visit to Copenhagen.

For instance, many groups featured what appeared to be AI-generated Romanians claiming they were not ashamed of living in the countryside; others were ordinary Romanians who often lost loved ones but still celebrated birthdays.

As the 2024 election approached, many of these groups began posting content supporting Georgescu, alongside recipes, inspirational quotes, and touching stories of ordinary people. Meanwhile, a flood of videos and images poured into TikTok. Romanian authorities claimed one of the main sources was a Telegram group called Propagatorcg, which centrally managed Georgescu's promotional materials, distributed them to volunteers, and provided detailed guidance on what hashtags to use, how to edit videos, images, and memes to make TikTok's algorithm classify them as original content.

Then, just as hundreds of influencers began posting Georgescu-related content, the third phase of the campaign launched: bot accounts. Two weeks before the vote, 25,000 previously dormant TikTok accounts suddenly became active, massively interacting with content supporting Georgescu. Pavel Popescu, vice president of Romania's telecommunications regulatory authority Ancom, stated that these accounts had independent IP addresses, simulated mobile devices switching locations, and appeared just like real phones. This made them difficult to identify as bots and made Georgescu's interaction data appear exceptionally authentic to TikTok's algorithm.

"Anyone can buy 25,000 bots to like their content, but it's not the same," Popescu said, "but when you have 25,000 active accounts that follow you everywhere and flood into your live streams as soon as you go live, that's completely different."

Typically, a TikTok account with 10,000 followers might have only 500 viewers online at the same time. But Georgescu's live stream viewership far exceeded what his follower count would suggest. "Soon, Georgescu appeared in everyone's feeds and then exploded like a snowball," Popescu said. Shortly after the bots appeared, Georgescu became the ninth biggest trend on TikTok globally.

When Peschir was arrested, prosecutors alleged that his support for Georgescu's actions occurred in two phases: in the initial months, he built popularity and followers on TikTok through tipping; as the first round of the election approached, he began liking and sharing Georgescu's videos and memes. With Peschir's fame and follower count, this content would automatically spread. When Bogpr entered a live stream, users would be excited as if they were seeing a celebrity. When he sent large gifts like lions and universes, his ID would appear on the screen alongside the animation, and streamers often interrupted their broadcasts to thank him by name. His generous reputation spread, and many who reached out to him mentioned his support for Georgescu.

"Can you give me some money? I'm willing to do anything," Cristian Gunie, a TikTok user just released from prison, texted Peschir a week before the election, "I can distribute flyers for Mr. Georgescu in my community, standing from morning till night."

"Hello, if you live stream doing this, I will support you in the live stream," Peschir replied. He only sent him one gift: a plane worth $48.88.

Many text conversations between Peschir and the influencers he funded showed a clear misalignment: the influencers spoke plainly, as if receiving money to support Georgescu was a given; while Peschir's wording was much more cautious.

Bogdan Peșchir—known as Bogpr to his 200,000 followers on TikTok—was escorted to the headquarters of the Bucharest Prosecutor's Office.
Photographer: Cristian Nistor / Romanian National News Agency

Costel Niculae, known online as Costelusclejeanioficial10, was imprisoned for 22 years after killing someone at the age of 14. His TikTok account features prison stories, singing, and life insights filled with profanity.

Six days before the election, Niculae messaged Peschir, saying he hadn't heard from him in several days. "Aren't you planning to involve me in the voting activities?" he wrote, "I can rally many people in my community, and I have video evidence."

"I haven't 'brought' anyone to do anything," Peschir replied, "I just tell people what I think is good for the country. I won't spend money hiring people to do things."

Niculae was confused: "I don't understand. Why are you leaving me out? Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm not leaving you out," Peschir answered, "just do what you think is right." After several exchanges, Peschir reiterated, "There is no plan to pay anyone." He sent Niculae gifts worth a total of $4,207.37.

If Peschir's texts sound like he has researched election law, it's because he actually did: police found search history on his computer, including "election bribery" and Romania's election finance law, Law No. 334/2006. In Romania, spending money to buy votes and candidates accepting undisclosed financial support are both illegal. Prosecutors believe that even without explicit statements, this exchange relationship is tacitly understood.

Peschir declined to discuss these texts, stating they might involve an upcoming trial and were therefore inappropriate to discuss. However, he said he genuinely likes Georgescu and wants him to win, and that researching election law was to ensure he didn't break any laws. "These accusations are simply like a plot from an Orwell novel—where a police state accuses you of 'thought crimes' despite clear contrary evidence," Peschir wrote in an email, "it's utterly absurd."

Cross-border financial investigations may take years, and Romanian prosecutors are known for their secrecy. This may explain why prosecutors and officials rarely make public statements, only occasionally hinting that Peschir's explanations for his lavish spending on TikTok are hard to believe. (Telecom regulator Popescu remarked, "Who would spend $1 million to support someone who appeared out of nowhere?") In documents, prosecutors stated that Peschir deliberately avoided showing any money-power transactions with Georgescu supporters, which only proves he was doing just that. They claimed that his TikTok tipping over six months before the election season was all part of a plan: he was recruiting people into his rapidly expanding network, using the court documents' words, to "create a dependency and exploit it during the campaign."

Peschir stated that his non-political tips only indicate his wide-ranging interests on TikTok. His lawyer Cristian Sirbu noted that his client not only tipped supporters of Georgescu but also sent gifts to supporters of his opponents. Sirbu pointed out that Peschir had clearly told others that he was not giving money for political purposes.

"But the judge didn't listen at all," Sirbu recalled about a judge from a hearing last March, "he said that even if (Peschir) told others not to follow suit, there was still a subconscious suggestion for them to do so. This should be seen by a psychiatrist. I even started to wonder if I should check myself into a mental hospital."

The government also stated that about $7 million found in Peschir's cryptocurrency accounts after his arrest "does not correspond to the standard of living corresponding to his business activities." This is the government's closest expression of accusing Peschir of having off-the-books income or that the TikTok tipping funds were not his own.

However, the current charges against Peschir do not involve the source of funds. Until 2023, he worked for nearly a decade at a Bitcoin ATM company called BitXatm. After that, he claimed to be a full-time cryptocurrency trader. "Most of my investments are made on public decentralized platforms, which anyone with blockchain knowledge can easily verify," he said.

Peschir's case is part of a larger investigation into Georgescu's behind-the-scenes supporters. Georgescu has been under close scrutiny since winning the first round and then being disqualified. He has been accused of glorifying the Legionary Movement (which is banned by Romanian law) and conspiring to overthrow the government after the election results were annulled. In October 2025, Romania's Attorney General confirmed that they had sought assistance from at least three foreign entities to investigate the sources of Georgescu's campaign funding.

Romanian President Dan admitted last fall that the government still faced difficulties in convicting Peschir. "We know how (social media influence operations) were implemented," he said, "we know that some clues—whether fake accounts or agencies for paid online ads—have evidence pointing to Russia. What we don't know is who designed the entire strategy. Similarly, we know very little about the flow of funds…everything related to Bogdan Peschir."

Peschir has been under arrest for nearly a year. A police source told Businessweek that the case is still under investigation. He has returned home, can move freely, and has a new laptop to replace the ones that were confiscated. He stated that he is working hard to recover through cryptocurrency trading. He describes himself as a workaholic and introverted, "living a very calm and quiet life," spending most of his time in the office. "In my little free time, I go to church, spend time with my pets, read, or drive late at night to relax." He said tipping on TikTok is just another way to relieve stress.

In December 2024, the Romanian government submitted TikTok to the European Commission to investigate whether it had fulfilled its obligations to prevent manipulation of the platform. The results of the investigation have not yet been released.

TikTok acknowledged attempts to manipulate the election but disagreed with the Romanian authorities' description of the manipulation actions. In an email to Businessweek, a TikTok spokesperson stated that the company dismantled several manipulation networks targeting Romania between November and December 2024, and these networks did not only support Georgescu. "Given the wide range of candidates supported, it is inaccurate to assert that Călin Georgescu was the sole beneficiary of non-authentic activities on TikTok, nor can it measure the relative benefits different candidates gained from it," the spokesperson said.

But Dan pointed directly at the sole opponent. "We are facing Russia's information attacks on European countries," he stated in October, defining Russia's alleged subversion of the Romanian election as hybrid warfare.

This term refers to indirect hostile actions between states that do not involve violent aggression, aimed at subverting the target from within. Western governments most often attribute this strategy to Russia, accusing it of interfering in elections, sabotaging infrastructure, and supporting coups. Russia, however, denies involvement every time.

To those supporting the government's position, the more difficult it is to verify, the more it indicates that the conspirators have done a good job covering their tracks. To skeptics, this instead suggests that the so-called conspiracy is merely a conspiracy theory.

The unprecedented decision to annul the election has left many Romanians dissatisfied. Elena Lasconi, the mainstream candidate who originally had a chance to face Georgescu in the finals and came in second, stated that the annulment "shattered the core of democracy—the ballot." In January 2025, tens of thousands marched in Bucharest, with some holding a coffin labeled "Democracy."

At one point, Romania's decision to disqualify Georgescu seemed counterproductive. Another sovereigntist candidate, George Simion, announced his candidacy. Like Georgescu, he is skeptical of the EU and its support for Ukraine and claims that Russia does not pose a threat to NATO. Georgescu publicly endorsed him.

Two months after this candidate's brief electoral victory, on the day he was taken in for questioning by the police, his supporters gathered together.
Photographer: Alex Nicodim / Anadolu Agency

In the first round of the re-election in May 2025, Simion received 41% of the vote, far exceeding Georgescu's 23% from the previous election. His final opponent was Dan, a mathematician and activist who has served as the mayor of Bucharest since 2020. Global media predicted that Simion would win. On May 7, Reuters headlined: "Romania's far-right leader Simion leads in pre-election polls." The Romanian currency, the leu, fell to an all-time low against the euro, clearly reflecting investors' concerns about Simion's economic policies.

On TikTok, Simion has 1.3 million followers, while Dan has only 350,000. Simion posts videos of himself with workers and in church; Dan shares content of himself enjoying urban life in Bucharest, dining out, and sharing household chores with his partner. Simion talks about restoring dignity and justice for Romanians; Dan explains math problems and how to balance budgets. Simion aims to involve Romanians in a great historical movement; Dan discusses the rule of law and liberalism.

Still under investigation by the EU, TikTok's response to suspicious activities on the platform during the final election period was noticeably more proactive. Mircea Toma, Secretary of State for the Romanian Audiovisual Council (which regulates broadcasting), stated that TikTok doubled its Romanian-speaking moderators and worked more closely with regulatory authorities. "As soon as we flag content, we can delete it within minutes," Toma said, "previously, we couldn't find anyone at all."

On May 18, the voting day, Romanian voters surprised everyone again. Dan defeated Simion with 53.6% to 46.4%. After the results were announced at 9 PM that evening, large crowds gathered outside Dan's campaign headquarters near Cișmigiu Park in Bucharest. Voter turnout reached a record 65%, while the annulled first-round turnout was only 53%. The crowd chanted "Europe, Europe" and "Fascists out," with many waving EU flags.

The candidate favored by Russia lost, but the political ideology represented by Georgescu clearly remains. "Our society is more polarized than ever," Romanian journalist Victor Ilie said, "because we annulled the election and re-elected, all those who voted for Simion and Georgescu do not consider Nicușor Dan a legitimate president. On the other side, those who voted for Dan are ecstatic that the far-right did not win, idolizing him in an extreme way. These two groups no longer communicate."

Of course, those who firmly believe that Georgescu is the true victim of election interference are Bogdan Peschir. "The Romanian election had to be annulled because the 'wrong' person won—someone who is wrong for the political establishment," he said.

When asked why he thought Georgescu could become popular, Peschir said it was purely because he was infectious. "I think it's just because people resonate with his ideas," he said, "there's a deep yearning for change in Romanian society, and people see him as an outsider. He is very good at touching on the important issues that truly hurt Romania."

In a sense, this is obvious. The viral promotion driven by fake accounts gave Georgescu a significant first-mover advantage, allowing him to enter ordinary people's phones ahead of time. And once he reached the audience, many were indeed persuaded. The false campaign ultimately transformed into genuine public opinion.