Slovakia’s democratic institutions are being dismantled from within, warns leading political analyst Marián Leško, as Prime Minister Robert Fico’s government normalises corruption, undermines the rule of law, and uses disinformation as a political weapon. In a scathing assessment, Leško highlights the criminal prosecution of former Supreme Court president Štefan Harabin—now a fringe pro-Russian figure with cult-like followers—as a symptom of radicalisation tolerated at the highest levels. Equally alarming is the privileged access granted to indicted figures like ex-police chief Tibor Gašpar and oligarch Norbert Bödör, who appear alongside Fico at government events despite serious corruption charges. Leško accuses the Slovak Intelligence Service of being misused by Gašpar’s son, its current director, to obstruct justice in the high-stakes Očistec trial, delayed for over 40 months.
Meanwhile, Fico and Gašpar wage a coordinated public campaign against investigators, pressuring Interior Minister Matúš Šutaj Eštok—an ex-SMER propagandist—to fabricate cases from baseless claims, despite having no legal grounds. Fico’s frustration, expressed in claims of feeling “like an idiot,” coincides with escalating personal attacks on investigators like Ján Čurilla, whose mental health has been professionally cleared. Coalition cracks deepen over the controversial transaction tax, denounced by Leško as “absurd,” with partner Andrej Danko now resisting it after its damage to small businesses triggered a regression to cash payments and postal orders.
Corruption resurfaces with the return of scandal-ridden Pavol Pavlis to public office, while Fico justifies such appointments with Orwellian claims of party self-regulation. At the same time, the coalition advances a constitutional amendment to enshrine binary gender definitions, revealing a turn to identity politics amid eroding public trust. As polls show falling support for the ruling parties, Leško warns of looming threats to free and fair elections if geopolitical chaos persists. Yet amid this decay, a glimmer of hope emerges as the Specialised Criminal Court finally accepts the Očistec indictment—offering a chance, however slim, that the justice system may yet prevail.
Marián Leško, a leading Slovak political commentator, opens the interview by addressing the criminal prosecution of former Supreme Court President Štefan Harabin. Harabin is charged for approving Russia’s aggression against Ukraine and publicly declaring he would have done the same as Vladimir Putin. Leško, who co-authored a book on Harabin, illustrates how a once-central figure of the judiciary transformed into a radicalised anti-system actor with a cult-like following. He warns that Harabin’s devotees would dismiss any psychological assessment—no matter how professional—as part of a conspiracy, amplifying the danger posed by his fringe ideology in a democratic society.
The discussion pivots to Tibor Gašpar, former police chief, currently indicted in the high-profile Očistec (Purification) case for allegedly leading a criminal group within law enforcement. Leško condemns the extraordinary access Gašpar enjoys to the Office of the Prime Minister, noting that such treatment of accused individuals violates all democratic red lines. Particularly alarming was a press conference held jointly by Gašpar and Prime Minister Robert Fico, where Gašpar divulged confidential information under the pretext of having “found it in a mailbox”—a claim rendered implausible by his son’s role as head of the Slovak Intelligence Service (SIS), suggesting SIS misuse reminiscent of its abuse under the authoritarian rule of Vladimír Mečiar.
As the Očistec case finally inches toward trial, after over 40 months of delay, Leško highlights what he sees as deliberate obstruction. According to him, the accused are desperate to stall proceedings indefinitely, fearing inevitable conviction if evidence is presented in court. This calculated resistance, he suggests, exposes the extent to which judicial independence is under siege.
A PR Offensive to Rewrite Reality: Fico, Gašpar, and Disinformation as Policy
Leško describes an orchestrated effort by Fico and Gašpar to manipulate public perception by casting themselves as victims of political persecution. This narrative, he argues, lacks any factual basis. Their claims of unlawful arrests and abuses from 2020–2023 are, in Leško’s assessment, not substantiated by evidence but are rather “a mass of disinformation.” Nevertheless, Interior Minister Matúš Šutaj Eštok faces mounting pressure to act on these claims, despite lacking legal grounds.
Here, Leško refers to Šutaj Eštok’s past as an online troll for Fico’s SMER party, known by the pseudonym “tosma3.” He suggests that the minister’s instinct remains ideologically aligned with Fico, even as practical constraints prevent him from fulfilling his leader’s wishes. This dynamic is best encapsulated in Leško’s metaphor: Fico and Gašpar produce disinformation (“excrement”) and expect Šutaj Eštok to craft from it a legal case (“a whip”)—a demand that reveals the absurdity and desperation of their political strategy.
Fico’s own frustration surfaces when he says he feels like an “idiot,” a sentiment Leško dryly calls his most accurate self-assessment to date. The Prime Minister’s attacks on police colonel Ján Čurilla—calling him “mentally ill”—are refuted by expert psychological evaluations, revealing a campaign of personal vilification devoid of factual grounding.
Transaction Tax Fiasco and Cracks in the Coalition
A major fault line in the ruling coalition emerges around the newly introduced transaction tax. Described by Leško as “one of the most absurd taxes ever conceived,” the measure has triggered backlash from coalition partner Andrej Danko and caused widespread avoidance behaviours, including a return to cash payments and even 19th-century methods like postal orders.
Leško observes that this tax represents not just economic mismanagement but a broader civilisational regression—undermining digitalisation and transparency. While Finance Minister Ladislav Kamenický dismisses criticism as populist exaggeration, the government’s own estimate—€700 million in projected revenue—contradicts such claims. Leško asserts that the tax, far from minor, imposes significant burdens on small businesses and individuals.
Danko, who originally supported the tax, now publicly resists it, threatening to repeal it via parliament if no agreement is reached within the coalition. His symbolic resistance to Fico’s dominance illustrates growing intra-coalition tensions. Yet, Leško notes that despite Danko’s advocacy for small business interests, his efforts garner little electoral reward—Slovak voters, he suggests, often vote based on emotive appeals rather than self-interest.
Corruption Resurfaces, Gender Politics Weaponised, and Authoritarian Risk Looms
The reappointment of Pavol Pavlis—despite past scandals involving conflict of interest and nepotism—underscores chronic issues in public procurement and party accountability. Leško ridicules Fico’s past claim that SMER’s internal ethics render external oversight unnecessary, calling it “one of the most absurd statements” ever made by the Prime Minister.
Simultaneously, the coalition advances a constitutional amendment to define gender as binary. With 81 MPs already in favour, Leško estimates a 50–50 chance of the measure passing in the final vote. Such a move reflects the government’s reliance on divisive identity politics to consolidate support.
Commenting on polling trends, Leško dismisses current numbers as irrelevant given the unpredictable political landscape. He warns that if geopolitical and domestic conditions deteriorate, Fico could engineer elections that are neither free nor fair. Slovakia’s future, he concludes, hinges on whether democratic safeguards can outlast the current government’s attempts to subvert them.
A Glimmer of Hope
Leško ends on a cautiously optimistic note: the Specialised Criminal Court has accepted the Očistec indictment, suggesting the judicial process may finally begin. Though not imminent, the possibility of trial within months signals that Slovakia’s democratic institutions, while battered, are not yet defeated.
