In the Eye of the Storm: How Ursula von der Leyen Survived Another Parliamentary Maelstrom
The glass-and-steel atrium of the European Parliament hummed like a hive this week: whispered strategy sessions, clipped press briefings, the clack of shoes on marble. Outside, the river reflected a low sun and a city that feels permanently in recess—Brussels in perpetual parliamentary motion. Inside, Ursula von der Leyen walked what feels like a political tightrope, again.
Two separate motions of no confidence failed to topple her this week, the latest instalment in what has become an unnerving season of political brinkmanship. For a Commission president barely two years into a second term, the repeated challenges are more than procedural drama; they are a test of whether Europe’s centre can hold or whether centrifugal forces will keep shredding its seams.
Numbers, Noise and the Narrowing Margin
The arithmetic of the chamber matters. When von der Leyen first won backing for her commission in 2019, she enjoyed a broad cushion of support. The margins now are slimmer—stretched thin by shifting alliances, national politics, and hot-button issues that cleave more cleanly across geography than party labels.
In July 2024, 401 MEPs voted for her second term and 284 were against—a comfortable plurality that nonetheless was a signal that cracks were forming. By the time the entire new commission was voted on in November 2024, her backing dipped to just over half of the chamber. The latest motions show small movements in both directions: the far right’s motion picked up a handful of extra votes compared with the summer, yet von der Leyen’s pro-celebration tally also inched up. Political survival, in this age, often looks a lot like breathing room rather than stability.
“Numbers are not just numbers here,” said an EPP (centre-right) parliamentary aide, shrugging as if they had become an exercise in risk math. “Every vote is also a message back home.”
Why They Keep Trying
A motion of censure is not a light instrument. If passed, it doesn’t only punish the president; it dissolves the entire Commission—an option that centrists are loath to endorse because it would risk throwing out centre-left and liberal commissioners along with the one they may dislike. Yet the tactic serves multiple purposes for the challengers: it is theatrical, it’s disruptive, and it exposes the policy fault lines that underline Europe’s current political fragmentation.
On the far right, groups that style themselves as defenders of national sovereignty have used these motions to score points on migration, culture-war issues, and scepticism about climate policy. On the left, the grievances are different: critics accuse the Commission of being too cozy with big business, too slow in defending human rights in conflict zones, and too tepid on social protections.
“This is a chessboard,” an S&D (centre-left) MEP told me. “Moves are made for domestic audiences as much as for Brussels.”
Domestic Firestorms, European Consequences
France is an unmistakable backdrop to recent votes: leaders of both far-right and far-left parties in Paris have at times found common cause in the national assembly—an alliance that has rippled into European debates. A handful of centre-right MEPs, anxious about upcoming national elections, have at moments voted in ways that echo domestic priorities rather than pan-European compromise.
“Politicians carry their electorates into the chamber,” said a veteran reporter who has covered the Parliament for a decade. “When the national fire gets hot, the European pot boils over.”
Policy Tensions That Cut Across the Aisles
It’s tempting to reduce every showdown to a right-versus-left story, but the truth is more tangled. Climate policy, industrial competitiveness, trade deals such as EU-Mercosur, relations with the United States, tech regulation, and the EU’s stance on Israel and Gaza—these all slice through party families and create strange bedfellows.
Take Gaza: von der Leyen’s strongest public rebuke yet—saying the violence had “shaken the conscience of the world”—followed by proposals such as partial suspension of the EU-Israel Association Agreement and curbing access to Horizon Europe funds, met resistance from member states. Some capitals, notably Germany and Italy, have been reluctant to support measures that would escalate diplomatic tensions, meaning any action at EU level is often stymied by unanimity rules or blocking votes.
“There’s no single lever,” an EU foreign policy official admitted. “Sanctions and suspensions require political unanimity or qualified-majority calculations that are all too easily turned into national politics.”
Pfizergate, Climate Compromises and the Budget Battle
Resentments linger beyond geopolitics. The so-called Pfizergate controversy—scrutiny about the Commission president’s communications with pharmaceutical officials during the COVID vaccine negotiations—continues to color perceptions among sceptical MEPs. On the environmental front, von der Leyen’s pivot during her first term to accommodate centre-right member states in order to secure reappointment irritated Green and Social Democrats, who felt the European Green Deal was hollowed out.
And looming on the horizon is the next long-term EU budget (2028–2034), whose first draft puts a heavier accent on competitiveness: AI, biotech, defence and a reconfiguration of cohesion and agricultural spend into national “competitiveness” pots. For many on the left, this looks like a Trojan horse for reduced social spending and less parliamentarian oversight.
“You can see why colleagues feel betrayed,” said a Green MEP from northern Europe. “We were promised a transformative green pact—now we are being asked to sign off on the market logic of competitiveness.”
What This Means for Europe—and for You
So where does this leave Europe’s executive? For von der Leyen, survival has come at the price of constant concession and delicate balancing. She must placate centre-right parties to govern, coax centre-left support on human-rights issues, and fend off persistent far-right disruption that seeks to delegitimise Brussels itself. The political choreography is exhausting.
For citizens across the continent—and beyond—these quarrels matter. They determine how quickly the EU can move on climate policy, on migration, on trade, on technology regulation, and on the diplomatic lines it draws in conflicts that kill and displace people. When institutional energy is spent on theatrical no-confidence votes, the work of legislation and oversight slows.
“You, as a voter, should ask: who benefits from these theatrics?” a Brussels café owner said, pulling a paper cup from under the counter. “Is it better to tear down institutions or to fix them so they work for ordinary people?”
Looking Ahead: A Perilous Tightrope
There are signs the appetite for censure may be cresting: the latest votes nudged von der Leyen’s margin up slightly and the far right’s count rose only by a few deputies. But the structural tensions remain. Fragmented party families, domestic election dynamics, and policy disputes that cut across political lines mean more turbulence is likely.
“This will be a tightrope act for the coming years,” an EU policy analyst said. “She can survive the motions, but surviving is not the same as governing with authority.”
As you read this in a city far from Brussels—maybe sipping coffee beside a different river—ask yourself: do you believe institutions still have the capacity to solve transnational problems, or are they unraveling under the weight of domestic politics and identity battles? The answer will shape how Europe handles everything from AI to climate to war. The walls of the Parliament did not collapse this week. But their paint is peeling, and the scaffolding needs more than speeches to hold.
