The shadowy warlord behind Romania’s wrecked election 

BUCHAREST — On a cold Saturday morning last December, Călin Georgescu, the far-right ultranationalist standing to be president of Romania, gathered with a group of his closest aides at a horse ranch outside Bucharest. His campaign was in crisis. 

A day earlier, the country’s top court had taken the unprecedented decision to cancel the election he had been well-placed to win. The move threw the country’s politics into turmoil and slammed Georgescu’s surging bid for the presidency into a wall. 

The court’s decision followed the release of secret intelligence reports suggesting a foreign power — likely Russia — interfered to tilt the election in favor of Georgescu, a NATO-skeptic and Moscow sympathizer who had threatened to halt all aid to Ukraine. 

The judges’ ruling had far-reaching consequences. In the months since, Georgescu’s popularity grew further amid claims of an establishment conspiracy. Now he is a poster boy for U.S. President Donald Trump’s MAGA acolytes, with both Elon Musk and Vice President JD Vance citing Romania’s election fiasco as evidence of a deep sickness in European democracy. 

Romania’s presidential election debacle has exposed a critical weakness in a country of strategic significance. At stake in the election is not only the governance of 19 million people but the future orientation of a key NATO member bordering Ukraine on the eastern edge of the European Union. Romania is home to a vital NATO base that’s set to become the alliance’s biggest in Europe over the next five years, at a fragile time for the West. 

The details of what was discussed on that foggy Saturday morning at the Jbara equestrian center remain unclear. But one of the owners of the ranch told prosecutors the stakes for those present, along with their blood pressure, appeared to be sky-high. 

“Everyone was stressed and worried,” the person told prosecutors. “I realized that their discussions might have something to do with the election annulment. This assumption was reinforced by their behavior. As I entered the room, they suddenly fell silent.”

Investigators now see the rendezvous at the ranch as a key moment in what they believe was a plot to destabilize Romania in the aftermath of the election annulment with a Jan. 6-style insurrection. The suspect at the center of the alleged conspiracy was at Georgescu’s side that morning: a leader of a mercenary group, called Horațiu Potra. 

Late the following day, Potra was arrested on his way toward Bucharest in a convoy of five cars filled with armed men. They were allegedly en route to the capital to incite a riot in protest at the court’s decision to cancel the vote, according to prosecutors. 

On March 11, Romanian authorities took their final step of banning Georgescu from standing in the rerun of the election, which is taking place this weekend. But if polls are correct, most of Georgescu’s voters are now backing another hard-right candidate, George Simion, who has denounced what he called the “coup d’état” and has promised to give Georgescu a role — potentially even as prime minister. 

Speaking to POLITICO, Simion — who is the frontrunner to win the presidency on Sunday — said he never met Potra. But he had rejected him as a potential candidate standing for his AUR party, he added. Simion brushed off the furor over the alleged insurrection attempt as “fireworks and smoke bombs and distraction.” 

Raids on Potra’s properties allegedly uncovered an illicit arsenal of military-grade weapons and over €3 million in cash hidden in basements, walls, and floors of his properties. An international arrest warrant is out in his name, charging him with “attempting to commit actions against the constitutional order.”

If polls are correct, most of Georgescu’s voters are now backing another hard-right candidate, George Simion. | Daniel Mihailescu/AFP via Getty Images

He has been abroad since he was charged, including in Dubai, and continued to conduct business in Africa. Georgescu is charged with “instigating actions against the constitutional order” and is banned from leaving Romania without permission from the courts.

Both men have dismissed the allegations against them and their supporters regard the charges as politically motivated slurs designed to undermine Georgescu’s campaign. POLITICO asked Potra and his lawyers multiple times over the course of six weeks for their side of the story but despite repeated requests, they declined to engage.

“Better to break the law and live than to obey the law and die,” Potra said in an interview with the Georgescu-friendly TV channel Realitatea Plus after he was indicted. 

A POLITICO investigation uncovers the full extent of Potra’s empire and his influence over the pro-Georgescu campaign that plunged Romania into crisis. Drawing on business records, financial transactions, prosecutor files, land registries, and testimonies from insiders, this research reveals a portrait of a man who amassed both vast wealth and powerful connections through his mercenary activities. It raises crucial questions, too, over his links with Moscow. 

Royal bodyguard

Potra is a man who has been shaped by war. 

Now 54, the Transylvania-born legionnaire honed his physique during a five-year stint in the French Foreign Legion before spending almost 30 years as a private security operative. His shaven head and stocky build now call to mind the figure of Yevgeny Prigozhin, the late leader of Russia’s mercenary group Wagner. 

A dual Romanian-French citizen, he once served as a personal bodyguard to Qatar’s royal family. But it was in Africa where he made his career. Initially, he pursued work in the private sector, providing security services for political leaders and business people.

It was work that took him across the continent, including to the Central African Republic, Sudan’s Darfur, The Gambia, and Senegal. In his CV, Potra also described how he oversaw operations for the Romanian-Australian mining magnate, Frank Timiș in Burkina Faso, Niger, and Sierra Leone. 

These contracts, and many others, have helped him amass millions of dollars, but also political influence, power, and, inevitably, detractors. 

One person who knows Potra well had no good words to say about him. The person, like others quoted in this story, was granted anonymity in order to speak freely amid fears they would face reprisals if their identity was made public.

This individual described Potra as someone who could not be trusted and cared only about himself. “He is a real Victor Lustig of Romania,” the same person said, referring to a notorious con artist best known for successfully scamming wealthy victims and famously selling the Eiffel Tower—twice—during the 1920s. 

Made in Africa 

When Romanian police detained Potra last December, among the machetes, axes and wads of dollars in his car, they also found a stack of Congolese francs. It was a souvenir from the previous two years Potra largely spent in the Democratic Republic of Congo. While he was there he commanded a 1,000-strong group of mercenaries, hired by the Congolese government to try to stop Rwanda-backed rebels taking the strategic city of Goma. 

Recruits were paid between $5,000 and $6,000 per month for their work, according to the employment contracts seen by this investigation. There was no health insurance and few employee protections, but a lot of obligations on the part of those who signed up.

Among them was Petru Samolinschi, a 23-year-old ex-soldier in the Romanian army. For him, 2023 was shaping up to be an eventful year. He had proposed to his girlfriend, quit his job in the army and joined Potra’s security company. His objective for signing up to work in DR Congo was clear: go to Goma, earn enough money for a home, and come back to start a life with his fiancee. 

It wasn’t to be. In June 2024 while he was flying a drone into enemy territory, Samolinschi was killed in a missile strike. “It was a mistake that Petru was there,” his fiancee, Bianca Antoneac, told POLITICO, fighting back tears. “I don’t understand why they were sent there.”

She recalled hearing stories from Samolinschi that made her doubt how good a deal Potra was offering the soldiers. Samolinschi told her that the operations were badly organized and that the mercenaries would sometimes “fire at each other.”

Interviews with more than half a dozen of Potra’s contracted fighters confirm the impression of a disorganized operation in DR Congo. Among the motley crew of recruits, Potra hired his close friends, truck drivers and supermarket guards, as well as elite French foreign legion fighters or Romanian military and police personnel who took leave from their day jobs to sign up. The contractors who spoke to POLITICO for this article said this pattern put many of them in danger. Along with Samolinschi, three others also died. 

“In the end, the company’s goal was profit,” said one contractor. 

The city of Goma fell in late January this year and Potra’s mercenaries failed to hold the line. They were evacuated from the country in a humiliating transfer across the border into Rwanda and back to Romania on a chartered flight. 

When they returned to Romania, Potra’s mercenaries were usually allowed in without any of the normally routine checks on their luggage, according to five of the contractors POLITICO spoke to. “There was a total lack of airport checks,” said one. “It was like we were traveling within Schengen.” The soldier told POLITICO they had personally seen Potra return to Romania carrying bags stuffed with dollars.

Among the litany of allegations against Potra is one of money laundering and tax evasion, which investigators in Romania are probing in a separate case. Authorities accuse him of not paying taxes on more than＄7 million, money they say he earned from mercenary contracts in Africa. 

Since securing his military contract in DRC in 2022, Potra has quietly amassed an impressive real estate portfolio. Some of his latest transactions include a $1.6 million villa in central Bucharest, neighboring the Ministry of Defense’s foreign military relations office, but also 44 hectares of forest in central Transylvania and several buildings in his hometown of Mediaş, according to land registry documents. 

Potra organized his operations through a network of companies spanning several jurisdictions, from Malta, Sierra Leone, Panama, U.K, DRC and Romania, according to company and financial documents seen by POLITICO. 

Financial records reveal a pattern of self-dealing. He purchased real estate and then signed promises of sale with his own companies, registered in Sierra Leone and Panama, effectively selling assets to himself. That is a move several experts POLITICO spoke to argue could be intended to obscure the origin of his income.

The Russians 

Another mercenary, Victor Răilean went to Goma in DR Congo as part of Potra’s group because he was trying to buy a house to support his family, including his son who has autism. In February 2024, he was shot in the stomach by a sniper in an ambush and died of his injuries. 

According to documents seen by POLITICO, Potra later donated ＄100,000 to Răilean’s family and to that of Samolinschi, but only after he mentioned his generosity in the media. His sister Victoria Gonț said she had to negotiate with Potra through lawyers to get the full amount he’d talked about in the press. 

Răilean’s account sheds light on Potra’s links to another key part of Romania’s story. While Moscow has not officially been blamed for interfering in last year’s election to boost Georgescu’s campaign, the finger of suspicion pointed at Kremlin agents. Romanian authorities warned Russia was waging a “hybrid” attack on Romania to destabilize the country, as it had done in neighboring Moldova. 

It was while working on a job protecting a Russian businessman during a casino deal in 2019 that Răilean met Potra for the first time. 

Before he was killed in Africa, Răilean told his sister that he started receiving unusual work offers after that initial Russian job. 

The proposals — which she said she assumed came from Potra, with whom her brother was working at the time — were to take part in destabilization efforts during pro-Russian protests in neighboring Moldova, and to conduct counterespionage for Russia in Ukraine. “[My brother] told me, do you realize that from Russia, through Romania, here in Moldova, they proposed this,” Gonț told POLITICO. 

Potra has some links to Russia that have emerged in the public domain, though the extent of any potential connections to Putin’s regime is unknown. 

Photos posted online by people from his inner circle appear to show Potra at the Russian and Chinese embassies in Bucharest. He once posted from Moscow’s Red Square, drawing a comment from one of his acolytes seemingly joking he was “the Wagner boss.” 

Flight tickets from Dubai to Moscow as well as hotel bookings from September 2024, just before Romania’s annulled elections, point to Potra visiting Russia. Prosecutors wrote that they suspect these images hint at possible coordination or backing from “entities aligned with Russian interests.” 

Potra’s connections to Russia don’t stop there. Prosecutors allege that Dorina Mihai, a woman with a close relationship to Georgescu’s bodyguard, Marin Burcea, has ties to Chechen fighters including warlord Ramzan Kadyrov. Photos on social media also show her posing with Chechen troops and praising Putin. 

Burcea, Georgescu’s bodyguard, also fought as a mercenary in DR Congo under Potra and was present at that fateful horse ranch meeting with his boss in December. As long ago as 2023, Mihai told Burcea the upcoming elections were “our last chance.” According to text messages cited in the prosecution files, she wrote: “If the system doesn’t change, we’re finished … I believe God is waiting for us to fight […] We need to hit them hard.” Neither Mihai nor Burcea responded to requests for comment.

Georgescu’s financier 

While Georgescu was an obscure figure in Romania before he burst into the lead in the first round of the election last November, he had long been known to Potra. 

Messages from Potra’s phone show that back in April 2022, Georgescu had asked him for help fundraising for his campaign, according to prosecutors’ documents. In particular, Georgescu wanted Potra to approach billionaire Frank Timiş for financial backing — seeking between $20 million-$35 million. In exchange, Potra assured Timiş that Georgescu would greenlight mining projects across Romania, especially gold mines.

“I need support now, and then I’ll support as well,” Georgescu wrote to Potra.

In the end, the approach to Timiş failed. There is no suggestion of any wrongdoing by Timiş and according to Potra, Timiş refused his request for money.

But Potra was allegedly useful in other ways. Investigators found that Georgescu benefited from Potra’s financial support from June 2024 until at least January 2025, including directly financing Georgescu’s campaign by covering the lease for a luxury limousine. Invoices annexed in the prosecutors file show Potra paid a €2,800 monthly rental for the vehicle, with messages showing this was a systematic arrangement throughout the election cycle.

Prosecutors documented what are alleged to be repeated cash payments from Potra to Georgescu — either directly or through intermediaries.

On August 3, 2024, Georgescu reached out to Potra, seeking “support” for the upcoming presidential election. “Maybe we can meet at the end of next week, starting Friday afternoon,” he wrote, according to the prosecutors’ files. “The elections are on November 24. Please, I need support until then.” 

It’s not completely clear what this “support” involved. But one of the critical points in the election controversy centers on Georgescu’s — allegedly false — declaration that he incurred zero campaign expenditure. 

‘Come out with your guns’

Many Romanians are deeply cynical about the political system in their country. The decision to annul the election last year has only reinforced the belief that their democracy is a sham.

To Georgescu’s supporters, the charges against him and Potra are bogus slurs drummed up by a vindictive state establishment. The allegations, they say, are designed to damage Georgescu’s standing and lock him out of power.

Despite numerous requests to Georgescu and Potra, made over several months — via contact with their legal representatives and other means — they did not respond to the allegations against them or to the information contained in this investigation.

In February, Potra spoke to Georgescu’s preferred TV channel Realitatea Plus, denying any wrongdoing. Potra told the station that he had no connection to Georgescu’s campaign and dismissed the suggestion that he helped to fund it with Russian money.

Potra explained the cash found in raids on his property, saying he had earned the money legitimately working for presidents in Africa and the king of Qatar. “All the money I brought to Romania,” he said. “Nobody forces me to keep my money in the bank because I’ve seen what happens: Accounts are blocked, they closed my accounts, and so on.”

In December, Georgescu initially said that he did not know Potra at all but later admitted that he had concealed their connection, at Potra’s request. Georgescu has also confirmed that he used the limousine provided by Potra. But, like Potra, he has said he has done nothing wrong.

In the aftermath of the Constitutional Court’s decision to annul the election on Dec. 6, Georgescu’s supporters went into something of a tailspin.

According to transcripts in the prosecutors’ documents, tension flared in a WhatsApp group with Potra and his close associates. As their frustration mounted, Potra stepped in, urging patience: “We wait to see what CG declares,” referring to the initials of Călin Georgescu.

By the next day, the conversation had shifted to logistics. Potra asked who was home and who was willing to travel to Bucharest. Several members confirmed their availability, and Potra set a meeting for that evening. In a separate Whatsapp group for mercenaries, with more than 1,500 members, one of Potra’s deputies also posted a call to mobilize and march on Bucharest.  

According to prosecutors, most of the people detained during the attempted December raid on Bucharest had worked for Potra in DRC and had the “intent to use lethal force.” They were his most trusted soldiers. 

As he walked out of the police station in handcuffs, Potra smiled. Asked why he had come to Bucharest in a convoy of armed men, he replied that he had come to vote. 

The story isn’t over yet. On Sunday May 18, Romanians will vote in the final round of a rerun of the election to choose a new president. Their options don’t include Georgescu but that doesn’t mean the ultranationalist and his allies are out of the picture. For one thing, they have Trump’s team publicly on their side. 

When Georgescu was finally banned from running in the new election in March, Potra sent an audio message to supporters. He seemingly called for a civil war: “Message to all the Romanian military — the true Romanian military who have sworn to defend their homeland and their nation, they have sworn a sacred oath: Come out now. Come out with your guns and arrest all those who staged the coup. Absolutely all of them, arrest them all. 

“And if your generals try to stop you, arrest them too. Shame on those generals who so far have done nothing and accepted the coup. Come out, Romanian soldiers, honor your oath. You are not alone. The people are with you. God help us.” 

Emmet Livingstone and Marine Leduc contributed with reporting.

This investigation was supported by grants fromJournalismfund Europe, the IJ4EU fund and the Henry Nxumalo Foundation and Viewfinder. These funders or any other of their partners are not responsible for the content published and any use made of it.