Ursula von der Leyen tightens her grip

BRUSSELS — On the day of U.S. President Donald Trump’s inauguration, the communications advisers of EU commissioners received strict instructions from their counterpart in Ursula von der Leyen’s cabinet.

According to an EU official, they were allowed only to repost the European Commission president’s Jan. 20 message to Trump on social media, and under no circumstances to add words of their own.

Such oversight is now a hallmark of von der Leyen’s time atop the Commission, with her leadership style growing more controlling than ever as she begins her second five-year term. It’s a centralization of power that many see as evolving toward a fully presidential model under the firm hand of the 66-year-old former German defense minister.  

It’s all part of a pattern in which she and a close-knit circle of largely German advisers run the show, largely shunning scrutiny from the European Parliament and keeping a tight grip on all messaging and communication.

Von der Leyen’s bout of pneumonia in January provided a stark example of the way things are now done. Her communications team deliberately obscured the fact a major world leader was in hospital, while von der Leyen herself did not relinquish control of the EU executive to her No. 2. That also meant a meeting of the 27 commissioners could not take place in Poland without her.

Some of this culture of secrecy was evident in her first term, most specifically when she refused to reveal text messages she exchanged with the chief executive of Pfizer in which she personally negotiated vaccine contracts during the Covid-19 pandemic. The stonewalling drew sharp criticism from the EU ombudsman, which said von der Leyen’s team was guilty of “maladministration.”

Von der Leyen refused to reveal text messages she exchanged with the chief executive of Pfizer in which she personally negotiated vaccine contracts during the Covid-19 pandemic. | Carsten Koall/Getty Images

Von der Leyen not only brushed off the ombudsman’s rebuke but doubled down by officially limiting access to certain kinds of documents, in a move that is being challenged by environmental NGO ClientEarth. Consolidating her grip on the Commission’s outward image, von der Leyen has also further reduced the institution’s number of spokespeople. 

“You see an evolution towards a presidential system, and you see it even more … under von der Leyen,” said Karel Lannoo, chief executive of the Centre for European Policy Studies think tank.

There have been real-world consequences of her top-down style. Big policy comes straight from the top, and Brussels was largely blindsided by her sudden move to launch a massive bonfire of the bloc’s red tape. The approach also means that things stop without her: The unveiling of the EU’s flagship plan to fix the economy, for example — dubbed the “competitiveness compass” — was delayed because of von der Leyen’s absence.

Meanwhile, many in Brussels were shocked late last year by draft Commission plans to centralize control of the EU’s massive €1.2 trillion seven-year cash pot.

“All the political decisions are taken at the level of the president,” an ambassador from a non-EU country affirmed. The ambassador, like others quoted in this piece, was granted anonymity to speak candidly about the Commission president. 

When asked about his boss’s leadership style, European Commission Deputy Spokesperson Stefan de Keersmaecker said: “The von der Leyen Commission has always put collegiality and cooperation between Commissioners and services at the heart of the Commission’s working methods … The president cherishes cooperation as a guiding principle running through all levels of the Commission.”

“There is this sense of a team,” Glenn Micallef, Malta’s European commissioner, told POLITICO. “All the colleagues that I engage with are more than willing to listen, to contribute, to help.”

Personalized leadership

Von der Leyen’s defenders contend that her personalized style of leadership coupled with her insistence on being present in the Commission’s Berlaymont headquarters has its advantages. 

One ex-commissioner said von der Leyen was highly responsive to texts and WhatsApp messages, readily engaging at odd hours and on Sundays. Commissioners know they can ask for in-person time and usually be accommodated.

Another former commissioner, Věra Jourová, said that while “there were topics where I felt it is centralized … I never felt that my voice [was] not heard by [von der Leyen] or by the colleagues.” 

She told POLITICO that a level of centralization was imperative to handle geopolitical crises on the scale of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. 

But not everyone sees it that way. 

That assessment was at odds with the views of senior EU executive members like former Commissioner Thierry Breton, who openly clashed with von der Leyen.

Former Commissioner Věra Jourová said that she “never felt that my voice [was] not heard by [von der Leyen].” | Olivier Hoslet/EFE via EPA

Breton resigned from the Commission in 2024 after falling afoul of its president. The final straw came last summer when Breton tweeted a letter of warning to U.S. tech billionaire Elon Musk without notifying the Commission chief or her office of his plans to do so. Von der Leyen has repeatedly stressed that all 27 commissioners should operate as one “college” and take decisions collectively.

The backlash was swift. 

One month later, Breton, who had been picked by Paris to serve a second term in the Commission, was out. Von der Leyen reportedly told French President Emmanuel Macron she was unable to work with his emissary.

“Secrecy and control will turn out to be her biggest weaknesses, perhaps,” said one EU diplomat. 

“Covid and the Ukraine crisis have proven to this woman that this is the way to go. You crush every procedure, law and rule that there is in the book, concentrate all the fucking power that you can and they will still applaud you for it,” a second diplomat said.

Another diplomat saw it differently.

“Can you run the Commission any other way?” the person asked.