Every once in a while, a vote reveals a corroded political system and points towards something new. Most observers portrayed last week’s EU election result as a far-right surge. But a closer look suggests it may have been an anti-establishment shift, with the European Parliament now home to 55 members from outside established parties, nearly double the 2019 total.
Leading the charge is the 24-year-old YouTuber who shocked Cyprus, coming out of nowhere to become its first independent to win an MEP seat. As in much of Europe, Cyprus’s most urgent issue has been immigration, which has surged due to the war in Gaza.
More than 2,000 migrants arrived by sea in the first three months of this year, a 25-fold rise from last year, prompting President Nikos Christodoulides to declare a “serious crisis” and urge the EU and Lebanon to help. Home to 1.2 million people, Cyprus now hosts more asylum-seekers per capita than any other European state.
With migrant camps beyond capacity, a few dozen new arrivals even set up tents in the UN-run buffer zone between the EU-member south and the Turkey-controlled north, known as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) and recognised only by Ankara.
Pre-vote polls showed the anti-immigrant Elam party coming in third and grabbing its first EU parliamentary seat, and possibly two of Cyprus’s six. Meanwhile, times have been tough for Cypriots, as the migrant wave, EU sanctions on Russia and the cost-of-living crisis have hurt the economy and raised concerns about the crucial summer tourist season.
Enter Fidias Panayiotou, whose claims to fame until this year were dodging train fares in Japan and a quest to hug 100 celebrities, culminating in a viral embrace with Elon Musk.
Raised in a conservative Greek Orthodox family in Meniko, 20km west of the capital Nicosia, he made videos with friends as a teen before serving his National Guard term in the UK. He built his social media celebrity on outlandish challenges: buried in a coffin with a snake; five days without sleep; a stint with Tanzanian hunter-gatherers.
Not the most impressive achievements, but they showed courage and conviction, qualities often in short supply among today’s leaders. Fidias amassed 2.6 million YouTube subscribers – more than double his country’s population – and seeing no politicians connecting with his demographic as the vote approached, decided to join the fray.
In boxer shorts, a sports coat and three ties, he announced his candidacy on a Cypriot morning show, embarking on one of the most unorthodox campaigns you’ll ever see. He said he’d never voted before and knew little of European politics but could no longer stand the “same nerds” in power in Brussels.
He makes more than €1 million (almost $1.1 million) a year, but eschewed billboards and TV and newspaper ads to focus on social media. He vowed to improve education, boost cryptocurrency and AI adoption, limit migration and advocate a bi-zonal, bi-communal solution for the island. But in true populist style, he avoided specifics, instead stressing vague change.
“If we don’t try we’ll remain stagnant, as we have been for so many years,” he said in April. When a leading green party invited him to join their ballot, he asked his followers what to do and accepted their vote to remain independent. This turned out to be a wise move, as the party ended up getting just 1 per cent, with Europe’s greens losing a third of their seats.
Submitting candidacy papers in April, Fidias said his goal was not to win, but to get young people more involved in politics. The day before, wearing a “Register Now” T-shirt, he livestreamed his 12-hour, 80km run from Kyrenia, on the north coast, to Larnaca, in the south-east, triggering a surge in voter registrations. [More than 100,000 Turkish Cypriots are able to vote in Cyprus’s EU elections, and most major parties usually include a Turkish Cypriot in their list of candidates.]
Yet with his wild style and political ignorance, he was widely seen as a joke candidate. Then in late May, he started to appear in polling data: at 2 per cent, then 4 and even 5 per cent. Analysts called his emergence “the Fidias Phenomenon” and argued that it showed an increasingly apolitical electorate.
In the end, the centre-right Disy party came in first and Fidias third with nearly 20 per cent, just two points behind second-place, progressive Akel. Disy retained its two seats, while Akel, Elam and Diko each got one. But “the Phenomenon” is all Cyprus can talk about.
“The self-satisfied, self-regarding, self-aggrandising class were given a kicking they will never forget by the TikTok kid,” declared the Cyprus Mail. “What is even more astonishing is that he achieved this without spending any money.”
Fidias was far from a one-off.
In Thracian Greece, a 76-year-old retired cattle breeder won an EU seat despite not campaigning, while in Italy an anti-fascism activist charged with attempted murder also won. In Hungary, Prime Minister Viktor Orban’s dominant Fidesz party received its lowest voter support in 18 years. In Spain, The Party’s Over, which vowed to “destroy the system and rebuild”, won three seats, while a new German party led by half-Iranian rising star Sahra Wagenknecht won six.
Former US president Donald Trump may have started the West’s protest vote trend by winning on his 2016 vow to “drain the swamp”. But the fracturing has apparently accelerated, pushing us into an apolitical age.
Millennials surely rank among the more unfortunate generations: the 2008-2009 financial crisis; Brexit, Mr Trump and the migrant wave; the Covid-19 pandemic; and now rampant inflation, two major wars, and 100 million displaced. These disasters have further eroded already-low trust in leaders, institutions and political parties, spurring greater cynicism.
This extends to traditional media, undermined by fake news and disinformation, which points to the success of Fidias’s social media campaign. In fact, few places embody the anti-establishment shift better than Cyprus, where this summer marks 50 years since the island’s division following a Turkish invasion.
A vote for Fidias was surely an expression of frustration with political leaders who have delivered so much disappointment for so long. Yet it was also an expression of hope in the possibility of real change. Fidias won more than a third of the votes from voters under 35, which suggests some staying power if he’s able to deliver results.
He’ll become the youngest sitting MEP when he’s sworn in next month, and says he hopes to form a new party with like-minded colleagues. Days before the vote, a Greek Cypriot columnist described the island’s established politicians as having “superficial approaches which they often identify as revolutionary”.
To defeat them, Fidias flipped the script. He ran what he identified as a simple and superficial campaign, which may end up kicking off a quiet revolution.
