By Daniela Samiri 

As Bulgaria approaches its presidential runoff on 1 November, the country faces a choice about its political future and European direction. Yet one question remains largely absent from the debate: what does democracy mean when one of the country’s largest minorities is expected to vote but remains almost entirely excluded from political power? 

Roma account for an estimated 10 per cent of Bulgaria’s population, yet there are currently no Roma members of parliament. After years of political instability and repeated elections, Bulgaria has become accustomed to seeking Roma votes without offering Roma citizens a meaningful place in the decisions that follow.

The contradiction is particularly interesting when compared with the country’s enthusiasm for celebrating Roma success, be it in the world of art, culture or sport.

Recently, 22-year-old Radoslav Rosenov became European boxing champion in Sofia, winning Bulgaria’s only gold medal at the championships and being named the tournament’s best boxer. Yet what stayed with me was not the medal, but the footage that followed: Rosenov standing beneath the Bulgarian flag, singing the national anthem with such instinctive conviction that every word seemed to belong to him.

As a Bulgarian of Roma origin, I recognised something both beautiful and deeply uncomfortable in that moment. The question has never been whether Bulgarian Roma feel Bulgarian. We have lived here for generations, spoken its language, shaped its culture and, occasionally, carried its flag onto international podiums.

What concerns me is that while Bulgaria finds it so much easier to recognise us as its own when we bring something valuable home, it refuses to accept us as true Bulgarians.

There is a particular ambivalence in how Roma are treated across the Balkans. We are close enough to embody the nation when we give it something to celebrate, yet distant enough to become a separate people when the story is less flattering. Roma musicians have long provided the soundtrack to national celebrations without necessarily enjoying equal acceptance. The late Macedonian Roma singer Esma Redžepova, hailed as the “Queen of the Gypsies”, became an international star and cultural ambassador for Yugoslavia, performing for heads of state and at the Eurovision Song Contest. Yet at the same time, Romani music was reportedly excluded from Macedonian and Yugoslav broadcasting for decades. Cultural admiration, it seems, is treated selectively.

Sport exposes the same contradiction: when a Roma athlete wins a medal, Roma identity moves almost effortlessly into the national “we”.

The problem is this selectivity of recognition. A medal belongs to Bulgaria, while poverty remains a Roma problem.

Bozhidar Andreev’s journey to Olympic bronze for Bulgaria in Paris in 2024 began in poverty in the Roma neighbourhood of Topolchane. His victory became a national achievement, as it should have. Yet the conditions from which he emerged were far easier to dismiss as a Roma problem than acknowledge as a Bulgarian responsibility.

There is something revealing about the fascination with the “successful Roma”. When a Roma becomes a champion, artist or entrepreneur, that person is often presented as an exception, as though achievement has lifted them beyond their community. Society can admire the individual without reconsidering its assumptions about everyone else.

This double standard becomes especially consequential in politics. Bulgaria is happy to celebrate Roma who represent the country in sporting arenas, but far less willing to create opportunities for Roma to represent it in parliament.

For years, Roma political participation has been shaped by vote-buying and controlled voting. Political brokers exploit economic hardship, offering cash or goods in exchange for votes. Reported practices include collecting identity documents and demanding photographs of completed ballots as proof of compliance.

These practices are too often presented as problems within Roma communities rather than evidence of a political system willing to exploit their vulnerability.

In the April elections, the parties that had run the vote-buying exercise lostmore ground among Roma voters than anywhere else in the electorate. Those votes went to Progressive Bulgaria—45.2 per cent among Roma, virtually matching its 44.7 per cent national share. And Vazrazhdane, Bulgaria’s pro-Russian far right, fell among Roma voters from 6.7 per cent to 2.9 per cent. This challenges a common assumption in European politics: that socially excluded voters are more likely to support far-right parties. In these cases, they did the opposite.

Across Central and Eastern Europe, Roma voters have challenged assumptions that their political loyalties are fixed. Electoral shifts in Hungaryand Romania have demonstrated the potential for Roma communities to influence broader political contests, including support for pro-European alternatives.

Those who organise and benefit from electoral manipulation must be held accountable. But the deeper failure is that a community considered important enough to influence elections remains largely absent from the institutions exercising power.

Bulgaria should recognise that Roma citizens are not a homogeneous electoral bloc to be mobilised through brokers. Like everyone else, we have different political preferences, concerns about corruption, aspirations for our children and views about our country’s future.

The question is whether Bulgaria’s political institutions are prepared to treat those preferences as legitimate expressions of citizenship.

This matters especially as the country confronts competing visions of its relationship with Europe and Russia. A genuinely European democracy cannot be measured solely by the parties that win elections or the international alliances they favour. It must also be judged by who can participate freely, who can exercise power and whose interests are represented.

Representation is not simply about placing a Roma face in parliament. It means Roma citizens having genuine opportunities to become political leaders, influence legislation, challenge decisions and hold institutions accountable.

A presidential election cannot resolve generations of exclusion. But it can expose the distance between Bulgaria’s democratic aspirations and its political reality. Parties must move beyond seeking Roma ballots towards supporting independent participation, confronting electoral coercion and opening credible pathways into political leadership.

An ethnic Bulgarian does not need to become a European champion to be recognised as Bulgarian. Nor should Roma citizens have to demonstrate extraordinary usefulness before being accepted as political equals.

Rosenov did not need to prove his attachment to Bulgaria. Watching him sing the national anthem made that abundantly clear.

• Daniela Samiri is a public affairs officer for the Roma Foundation for Europe. She brings a deep and lasting commitment to Roma communities, paired with a diverse academic and professional background. Daniela holds a degree in criminology and has worked in the creative sector with a London-based theatre and visual effects company.