Strasbourg, July 2025. The plenary opens as always: carpets too clean, coffee too expensive, MEPs far too present to really be there. At the center of the stage, Ursula von der Leyen — who doesn’t fall, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t retreat. Because in this Parliament, even no-confidence motions don’t have the guts to be real.
There is debate, performance, posturing. But no real action.
The desperate show (or the opposition that can’t oppose)
Socialists and liberals raise their voices. Not to change anything, but to remind the European People’s Party they still exist. It’s a refined, calibrated resentment from those who lost power but still want to be seen. “If you betray us again…” they warn. Then promptly announce they’ll vote to keep her in office. The European Parliament is like that: wars are fought only in press releases.
The woman who never falls
Von der Leyen smiles. Scoffs. Talks about “fake news,” brands her opponents “conspiracists,” “Putin apologists,” “anti-vaxxers.” It’s the tone of someone who knows nothing will happen. She performs the theater of a crisis knowing she’ll be saved. She even dares to say that “Pfizergate” — her text exchanges with Pfizer’s CEO — is a fabrication. “A lie,” she says. As if naming it makes it vanish. She shamelessly exploits the coffins of Bergamo to save her face. Disgusting.
Parliament, i.e., the well-paid void
The truth? No one in that chamber truly decides anything. MEPs move like third-rate actors in a soap opera no one watches anymore. Their speeches are ghostwritten, their opinions dictated by party lines, their alliances bought at the incoherence market. Motions rise like curtains: just enough to give the illusion that something is happening. It’s all a stage — soon to be repackaged into polished press releases and flashy social videos.
The blind eagles
Nicola Procaccini, co-president of the Conservatives and Reformists, denounces the motion — signed by members of his own group. He argues this is the “most right-wing Commission in history” and the censure is a strategic blunder. He’s not wrong. But he says it as if Parliament actually matters. As if he doesn’t know its true function is to look like a battlefield while acting as a storage unit for pre-approved power arrangements. The sound of fingernails on glass echoed all the way to Rome.
The jackals play into the Union’s hands — and vice versa
The far right signs the no-confidence motion. But like any good enemy, they’re doing the biggest favor: uniting the majority. “Putin will be pleased,” say von der Leyen and Weber, “his friends are sitting here with us.” Meanwhile, those same far-right groups cooperate in committees to pass amendments. It’s the perfect pantomime: fighting in the chamber, toasting with lobbyists after dark.
The left still dreaming of European funds
“We cannot tolerate the EPP flirting with the far right,” cry the Socialists and Renew. And yet, between one outrage and the next, they’re gearing up to vote confidence in von der Leyen. They know without her, they risk irrelevance. Better to count for something in a broken system than start building a new one. The majority is back together. Cozy as ever.
Parliament is not Westminster? Oh, please.
Manfred Weber tries to be refined: “This isn’t Westminster!” — as if to say, we’re better, more moderate, more European. But the subtext is clear: we’re duller, more predictable, and more useless. No one dares stage real opposition. And the word “crisis” gets exhausted before it even begins.
Words that don’t hurt anyone
Grave things were said during the debate. But always with the same tone: solemn, abstract, detached from real life. “We need a strong Europe.” “We must act.” “It is essential to clarify.” Every sentence was a remix of the same lie: that any of this makes sense.
The invisible allies and chameleons
“Who are your real allies, Ursula?” asks Valérie Hayer. No one answers. Because they don’t need to. Allies aren’t found in the chamber, but in numbers and silence. Decisions aren’t made here. Democracy is simulated, not exercised.
Medvedev and discount misogyny
Meanwhile, outside the chamber, Medvedev calls von der Leyen a “vile gynecologist.” The Kremlin, always classy. And yet no one is scandalized anymore. It’s just part of the scenery — like empty motions, pointless votes, and ever-visible badges. The vulgarity of power knows no borders. Let me remind Medvedev: it was a woman who gave birth to you, you idiot.
Germany flirts with doubt, but not for long
The German Socialist delegation threatens abstention. Maybe. Maybe not. “We’ll decide on Wednesday,” says Repasi — as if it matters. As if there’s a real doubt. The motion won’t pass. No one wants real change. Besides, Socialists and Christian Democrats are allies — in Germany and in Brussels. Same farce, different flag.
The right, staring in the mirror, unrecognizable
They yell, they abstain, then they vote. They pretend to oppose, but show up when it counts. The chaos on the right is a delicate balance that keeps this whole performance standing: enough noise to look rebellious, enough complicity to not be left out. While one part screams about the tyranny of Brussels, the other saves von der Leyen. Hopefully in exchange for something worthwhile.
The left-wing vultures preaching purity with Qatar on their hands
As the Socialists accuse the right of fund fraud and shady foreign ties, few dare mention that Qatargate started from the left. Suitcases, cash, shady foundations. They talk about transparency with the same tone they use to forget returning the money. The politics of “we’re better than you,” until someone opens the drawer.
The winners are always outside Strasbourg
The only one laughing — and loudly — is Vladimir Putin. The Union is divided, confused, stuck. But the machine keeps turning, like a broken music box no one dares to shut off.
And in the end, we’ll see you Thursday
The vote is on Thursday. Von der Leyen will remain. The groups will reconvene. The papers will write that Europe passed the test. And everything will go on as before. Same power deals, same voices, same rituals. A Parliament that scares no one because it decides nothing. A democracy reciting itself like an old play no one wants to watch, but everyone pretends to applaud.
A Parliament slapped in the face — systematically
And the most humiliating part? The most structural, the most shamelessly accepted? This Parliament that never tires of talking about “democratic legitimacy” and gets misty-eyed at the word “transparency” — is the same one that lets itself be stripped of power, downgraded, ignored. Not through a coup, but with a simple treaty article.
Article 122 of the TFEU: the legal shortcut that lets the Commission and the Council bypass everyone “in case of emergency.” They used it for vaccines, for military funds, for energy crises. They invoke it like a life insurance policy for a system that doesn’t trust its own democracy.
And the Parliament? It stays silent. Or worse: applauds.
It lets itself be slapped in public by an executive that never misses a chance to remind it how irrelevant it is. It gets outraged in the hallways, then signs the attendance sheet. Collects its per diem, straightens its badge, smiles for the photo.
A Parliament that demands to be heard, but accepts not to matter. A glossy, expensive, accommodating fiction. Real power is elsewhere. And they know it. But they keep talking. Because as long as they’re talking, they can pretend to exist.