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In less than a year, a man who claimed to know nothing about politics has managed to leave his mark on the European Parliament, first transforming himself into Elon Musk’s voice and subsequently evolving into one of the most prominent and consistent supporters of Russian interests.
Fidias’s election, beyond being a major surprise, raised questions about what this man, who declared during his campaign that he knew nothing, could possibly represent. The apolitical profile with which he was elected, whilst causing unease in Brussels, initially overshadowed his political choices. When he aligned himself with Elon Musk’s interests, creating the impression he functioned as Musk’s representative within the EU; when he conducted digital referendums—presenting himself as the voice of society—to position himself on serious issues; when he questioned the democratic nature of institutions with a doctored video purporting to prove that MEPs’ opinions were not followed in votes; when he identified with the most extreme and anti-European voices; even when he voted against continuing aid to Ukraine (and thus against its right to defend itself) because, as he explained, this led to the continuation of war—all of this was framed within the context of lacking political understanding. His anti-Europeanism and pro-Russian stance were somehow justified by his political inadequacy and naivety. The apolitical image overshadowed any political footprint, removing political motives.
Over time, his choices and actions acquired clear coherence. Through interventions in the European Parliament, he began unequivocally whitewashing Putin’s regime and the invasion, whilst in every interview he adopted the Russian narrative—that Russia was essentially forced to invade Ukraine. From being the voice of society, he became Russia’s voice. This culminated last week when he abandoned all pretence. First, as one of only three MEPs who opposed a European Parliament resolution calling for the return of 20,000 children abducted by Russia from Ukraine. Then, 24 hours later, travelling with three other MEPs to Russia to attend the grand military parade. The following day, he explained he went there because he was tired of seeing the EU sending weapons and money to Ukraine to fight the Russians. He reported meeting with the Russian Parliament’s speaker and other politicians for peace in Ukraine, not through weapons but dialogue, and called on his followers to pressure European politicians to change their stance. One might argue this intervention was also based on his political naivety or arrogance. A young man, inflated beyond his stature, felt he had a role to play in the Ukrainian conflict. However, the essence was his suggestion that “the Russians are our brothers—we share a common religion, common moral values” and his call for a change of stance since “being at war with Russia, which was our ally for so many years, only harms us”. His absolute political vacuum acquired both substance and clear consistency regarding its targeting, demonstrating that political understanding existed all along behind his choices, along with a political agenda. It was not naivety that determined his moves but his political principles and morality. He did not seek an end to European aid to Ukraine because he failed to understand that such action would lead to the country’s complete capitulation to Russian ambitions, but precisely because he did understand it.
It is clear that Fidias Panagiotou is developing into one of the most problematic presences for the EU. “Europe’s shame,” wrote one friend, reposting the photograph of Pheidias with the other three MEPs who went to Moscow. “Russia’s useful idiot,” wrote another. However, he is also developing into one of the most problematic and dangerous presences for Cyprus itself. For what common moral values can a country that has been under occupation for 50 years and tries to convince the international community that this is unacceptable share with a country that has invaded another? What can a country that invokes international law share with one that daily commits war crimes? What can a country seeking to overturn the status quo share with one attempting, through war, to change global borders? How does Pheidias serve the interests of the organisation he was elected to serve and the interests of his country?
In less than a year, the man who knows nothing about politics has managed to leave his mark on the European Parliament, first transforming himself into Elon Musk’s voice and subsequently evolving into one of the most prominent and consistent supporters of Russian interests. Sometimes with two companions, sometimes with three. Most often with simplistic questions and utterly simplistic answers. Always, however, with enormous political stakes. And with one constant: anti-Europeanism and pro-Russian sentiment. This confirms that in politics, there are no innocent choices. All carry weight and consequences. Most importantly, it shows that when society chooses simply to punish the system, in reality, the first victim it punishes is itself. Elevating clowns as its representatives. And transforming the country into a vast circus.
This article was originally published on 18.05.2025
