Written by: Simona Weinglass, Bloomberg

Translated by: Saoirse, Foresight News

In the real world, Bogdan Peschir is a 36-year-old cryptocurrency trader from the fairy-tale town of Brașov in Transylvania. From his balcony, he can see red-roofed houses, Gothic churches, and the changing seasons on Tampa Mountain. On TikTok, however, he is Bogpr, the biggest "tipper" on the Romanian platform.

Peschir particularly enjoys spending money on streamers. If you're live on TikTok and do something to catch his attention — like jumping into a canal or doing a backflip — he might watch and send you an animated gift that swipes across the screen. These gifts range from a few cents to several hundred dollars, and the recipients can exchange them for cash. At this level, digital gifts have long stopped being merely likes from strangers.

Peschir pays out tips continuously, with his follower count nearing 200,000. His sustained spending allows him to unlock cooler, more expensive gifts: such as virtual Thunder Falcons and Fire Phoenixes. By Fall 2024, he reached TikTok's highest level of 50, securing his position as one of the top tipers in Europe. He also gained a rare privilege: he could send animated flying Pegasus gifts to streamers he endorses. This kind of fame is quite special, but Romanian prosecutors indicate that such influence is incredibly powerful. They arrested Peschir, accusing him of using his money and prestige to help an eccentric far-right candidate win in the first round of the Romanian presidential election in November 2024.

This candidate, Călin Georgescu, had a sudden turnaround. Three weeks before the election, polls showed he had only 1% support, and he didn’t even qualify to participate in major national televised debates. Yet, he secured 22.9% of the vote in the first round, surpassing twelve other opponents. Within three days, Romania's Supreme Defense Council announced external interference in the election. Authorities declassified five partially redacted intelligence documents accusing “state actors” of intervening in the voting. Germany and the United States pointed directly at Russia as the country involved.

The entire operation was conducted online, primarily through TikTok. Tens of thousands of fake accounts created the illusion of Georgescu’s massive popularity, pushing him into everyone’s feeds. According to a report from the French government, the hashtag #calingeorgescu was viewed 73.2 million times on TikTok within seven days — a remarkable engagement for a country of 19 million people, about 9 million of whom use TikTok. Prosecutors stated that Peschir was involved: he directed tips toward creators promoting Georgescu and liked and commented on content supporting the candidate. He wrote in text messages to acquaintances: “I’m doing everything I can to boost his visibility.”

Călin Georgescu, two days after winning the first round of the Romanian presidential election, ten days before his victory was declared invalid. Photographer: Andrei Pungovschi / Getty Images

Prosecutors suspect that these actions were crucial to Russia's overall plan to support Georgescu's rise to power and may even represent coordinated efforts. They claim that Peschir's role in boosting Georgescu's support was "decisive." The president of Romania, Nicușor Dan, who was elected after Georgescu was disqualified, had publicly criticized Peschir by name. However, Peschir has not yet been formally charged. He claims the government’s assertions are nonsense: he simply enjoys generously tipping TikTok influencers with money he earned independently, and he happens to be a fan of Călin Georgescu.

For Romania, which was under pro-Soviet dictatorship from 1944 to 1989, allegations of Kremlin manipulation in elections are particularly sensitive. The Romanian government’s response has been extraordinarily rare in similar cases. In December 2024, the Romanian Constitutional Court declared the election results invalid, citing violations of election laws: firstly, “opaque use” of digital technology and artificial intelligence; secondly, failure to declare the source of Georgescu’s campaign funds. The court announced a re-election would take place in May 2025 and prohibited Georgescu from running.

In March 2025, Peschir's arrest was sensational. He walked into the Bucharest police headquarters wearing a hat, mask, and sunglasses, reluctantly removing them in front of cameras to reveal a tidy hairstyle and a gaunt, chiseled face. Prosecutors charged him with “electronically bribing voters” and requested his detention while they refined their charges. About a month later, he was released. Since then, a police drone circled outside his balcony for months, and every new laptop he bought has been confiscated by the police.

According to prosecutors, Peschir spent nearly $900,000 on TikTok gifts in the ten months leading up to the election, tipping over 250 Romanian influencers. In the last 31 days, he sent gifts worth $381,000 to accounts supporting Georgescu. The government claimed this constituted undeclared illegal campaign contributions.

Peschir vehemently denies any wrongdoing. “The government hasn’t presented a single piece of evidence,” he said in an email to Bloomberg Businessweek, “this is entirely a fabricated story to find grounds for annulling the election.” He denies being directed by Moscow, saying, “No one can command me except God, and I haven’t taken a penny from anyone in years.”

The police report that the case is still under investigation. Businessweek has reviewed reports from Romanian intelligence and extensive text message records from Peschir, and has had conversations and email exchanges with him. These text messages, in particular, serve as a window into the strange world of social media-driven campaigning. This socially reclusive person has unexpectedly become an emblematic figure in what may be the most successful Russian electoral interference operation of the 21st century.

Bogpr has been active on TikTok since at least 2023, but truly blew up in March 2024 — eight months before the election. At that time, he gifted thousands of dollars to Romanian singer Nicolae Guță. According to Peschir himself, this earned him the title of “King of TikTok” in his country.

TikTok's economic model revolves around virtual coins purchased within the platform. In Romania, a coin is just above 1 cent. Peschir can spend 1 coin to buy a virtual rose, 30,000 coins for a lion, and 44,999 coins for a “universe.” (It's unknown whether he has ever purchased the Pegasus gift worth 42,999 coins.) The recipients of gifts can exchange them for virtual diamonds, which can then be converted into real money — about half of what the tipper paid, with the other half as a commission for TikTok. (The company has refused to disclose specific commission rates.)

In the first few months, Peschir's tipping seemed almost unrelated to the elections. He would respond to donation appeals, like those from parents of seriously ill children; he tipped young female streamers who lip-synced and didn't speak; he even gifted people just filming themselves driving or chopping wood.

“I would go live, wear skirts, play NPCs — non-player characters in games — to attract his attention,” said Romani hip-hop artist Gheorghe-Daniel Alexe (online name Bahoi). According to prosecutors, he received gifts worth $2,400 from Peschir in total. Alexe states others would tip as well, but Peschir was on an entirely different level.

Almost no TikTok creators know Peschir’s real name or appearance. Alexe recalls that he rarely revealed details about himself, only stating he believes in God and finds joy in giving money. “He said, ‘I have too much money, nothing impresses me because nothing can stimulate me,’” Alexe recounted, “‘Only giving can stimulate me.’”

Peschir’s generation grew up during a time of intense social transformation. In 1989, the Ceaușescu regime collapsed along with the Iron Curtain, ending decades of communist dictatorship rooted in post-World War II Soviet occupation. Romania opened to the West, joining NATO in 2004 and the European Union in 2007. For many years following, Romania’s economy soared, transforming from a country known for orphans to the second-largest economy in Eastern Europe after Poland. Today’s Bucharest, like many European capitals, has street performers, boutique cafes, and co-working spaces. Yet, many Romanians remain left behind. According to EU statistics, nearly 30% face a risk of poverty or social exclusion, a disproportionately high rate within the EU.

Far-right forces in Romania first emerged online in the early 2010s. Oana Popescu-Zamfir, the director of the Bucharest think tank GlobalFocus Centre, said these groups include extremist football fans, hip-hop enthusiasts, anti-LGBTQ activists, and advocates for the unification of Romani people. They gradually coalesced around a new political party called the “Alliance for the Union of Romanians” (AUR) — nationalist, nostalgic, and criticized for its authoritarian tendencies, advocating a return to tradition and Christianity.

Georgescu was a member of AUR and shared a similar worldview with personal flair. He referred to Ukraine as a "fictional country," called the far-right leader of the “Legion Movement,” responsible for the killing of Jews and political opponents many decades ago, a “hero,” claiming he “united thousands with a goal, a belief, national pride, and the purity of Romanians.” He prophetized that humanity would one day communicate telepathically and once claimed to have seen aliens. (Georgescu did not respond to requests for comment.)

In mainstream political circles, Georgescu is seen as an oddball. But on TikTok, his image is entirely different. In one video, he swims in a frozen lake, showcasing his solid shoulders; in another, he rides a white horse wearing a traditional embroidered shirt. He calls himself “a farmer’s son,” “the soul of the nation,” and claims the current leadership of Romania is corrupt and has sold the country to foreign companies. He regards himself as the last hope for the nation against globalist forces that seek to destroy Christianity and Romania's unique identity. Georgescu's ideology is broadly termed “sovereigntism,” pitting ordinary people against elites, the nation-state against the EU and NATO, and tradition against progressivism.

This rhetoric deeply resonated with Peschir. He wrote in texts, “I feel this person was sent by God. Now we have a chance in Romania.”

Undoubtedly, in the weeks leading up to the November 2024 Romanian elections, strange events unfolded. Passwords of staff at Romanian electoral institutions were leaked on Russian hacker forums. Romanian intelligence reports indicate over 85,000 cyberattacks targeted election infrastructure, seemingly from 33 countries, but the report stated this was likely a ruse created by IP masking.

Clearly, one or more powerful entities were attempting to subvert the Romanian elections while simultaneously covering their tracks.

According to French media Mediapart, Romanian intelligence privately informed their French counterparts that they believe these attacks were coordinated by Russia. The report stated that Romania traced one of the attacks back to the APT29 hacker group (also known as “Cozy Bear”) under the Russian foreign intelligence service (SVR).

In October 2025, President Dan finally publicly stated that the government had traced all intervention activities, including Georgescu's uncontrollable social media campaigning, back to Russia. On October 2, Dan presented Romania's interim investigation results to European leaders in Copenhagen.

The president stated that Russian actions began as early as 2019, when a Russian company started social profiling Romanians. Years later, a large number of Romanian Facebook groups suddenly appeared with seemingly non-harmful themes like alternative medicine, religion, recipes, etc., with names like “Only True God” and “Beauty of Romania.” Dan noted that these groups aimed to test different narrative strategies across various Romanian demographics.

Romanian investigations revealed that Russian digital marketers ultimately identified four key themes: “Romanians are most responsive to narratives regarding identity, nostalgia, conspiracy theories, religion, and alternative medicine,” said Romania's Attorney General Alex Florenta during a press conference two weeks before Dan's visit to Copenhagen.

For instance, many groups featured what appeared to be AI-generated Romanians claiming they were not ashamed of living in the countryside; others were simple Romanians often grieving losses yet still celebrating birthdays.

As the 2024 election approached, many of these groups began to post content supporting Georgescu, in addition to mainstream recipes, inspirational quotes, and moving tales of ordinary people. Meanwhile, TikTok saw an influx of videos and images. Romanian authorities claimed one main source was a Telegram group called Propagatorcg, where administrators centrally managed Georgian promotional material, distributed it to volunteers, and provided detailed instructions on what hashtags to use and how to edit videos, images, and memes to make TikTok’s algorithm classify them as original content.

Following this, just as hundreds of influencers began posting Georgescu-related content, the third phase of the campaign kicked off: bot accounts. Two weeks before the vote, 25,000 previously dormant TikTok accounts suddenly became active, beginning to interact massively with Georgescu's content. Pavel Popescu, vice-president of Romania's telecommunications authority Ancom, stated these accounts had individual IP addresses that simulated mobile devices switching locations continuously, just like real phones. This made them difficult to identify as bots and allowed Georgescu's interaction data to appear authentically real in TikTok's algorithm.

“Anyone can buy 25,000 bots to like their content, and there’s not much difference,” Popescu said, “but when you have 25,000 active accounts that follow you wherever you go and flood into your live streams the moment you go live, that’s entirely different.”

Typically, when a 10,000-follower account goes live, it may only have 500 viewers at the same time. But Georgescu’s live viewers far exceeded what his follower count suggested he should have. “Soon, Georgescu appeared in everyone’s feeds, and then it snowballed,” Popescu said. Shortly after the bots appeared, Georgescu became the ninth hottest trend globally on TikTok.

When Peschir was arrested, prosecutors alleged his support for Georgescu was divided into two phases: in the preceding months, he built popularity and followers through tips on TikTok; as the first round of the election approached, he started liking and sharing Georgescu's videos and memes. Given Peschir’s fame and follower count, this content would spread automatically. When Bogpr entered live streams, users got excited as if seeing a celebrity. When he sent large gifts like lions and the universe, his ID would appear on the screen alongside animations, and streamers would often pause their broadcasts to thank him by name. His generous reputation spread, and many who reached out to him mentioned his support for Georgescu.

“Can you give me some money? I’m willing to do anything,” TikTok user Cristian Gunie, who had just been released from jail, texted Peschir a week before the election, “I can distribute flyers for Mr. Georgescu in my community, from morning till night.”

“Hello, if you live stream doing that, I’ll support you in your stream,” Peschir replied. He sent him just one gift: a plane worth $48.88.

Many of Peschir's text exchanges with funded influencers reveal a clear dissonance: the influencers are straightforward, as if receiving money to help Georgescu is entirely reasonable; Peschir’s wording is much more cautious.

Bogdan Peschir — known as Bogpr to his 200,000 followers on TikTok — is escorted to the Romanian Prosecutor General's headquarters. Photographer: Cristian Nistor / Romanian National News Agency

Costel Niculae, known online as Costelusclejeanioficial10, was convicted of murder at 14 and sentenced to 22 years in prison. His TikTok account features prison stories, music, and reflections filled with profanity.

Six days before the election, Niculae messaged Peschir saying he hadn’t heard from him for several days. “Aren't you going to involve me in the voting activity?” he wrote, “I can gather plenty of people in my community, and I have video evidence.”

“I’m not ‘bringing’ anyone to do anything,” Peschir replied, “I'm merely telling people what I think is good for the country. I won’t pay anyone to do anything.”

Niculae was confused: “I don’t understand. Why are you leaving me out? Did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not leaving you out,” Peschir replied, “just do what you think is right.” After several exchanges, Peschir reiterated: “There is no plan for paying anyone.” He sent Niculae gifts worth a total of $4,207.37.

If Peschir's messages sounded like someone who had researched election laws, it's because he actually had: police found search history on his computer, including “election bribery” and Romania's election finance law, Law 334/2006. In Romania, paying for votes or candidates accepting undisclosed funding is illegal. Prosecutors believe that even if not explicitly stated, this sort of exchange was understood between the parties.

Peschir declined to discuss these texts, stating they may relate to an upcoming trial and are therefore sensitive. But he indicated he genuinely likes Georgescu and wishes for his victory, and that he researched election laws only to avoid breaking the law. “Such allegations are akin to a plot in an Orwellian novel — a police state accusing you of ‘thought crimes’ despite clear contradictory evidence,” Peschir wrote in an email, “it's utterly absurd.”

Cross-border financial investigations may take years, and Romanian prosecutors are known for their confidentiality. This likely explains why the prosecution and officials rarely make public statements, merely hinting occasionally that Peschir’s justifications for his lavish spending on TikTok are hard to believe. (According to telecommunications regulatory officer Popescu, “Who would spend $1 million supporting someone who just appeared?”) In official documents, prosecutors stated that Peschir deliberately avoided displaying money-power exchanges to support their claim that he was doing just that. They claimed his TikTok tipping during the six months before the election was part of a broader plan: he was soliciting people to enter his rapidly expanding network, described in court documents as “creating a dependency and exploiting it during the campaign.”

Peschir asserted that his politically unrelated tipping simply indicates his wide-ranging interests on TikTok. His lawyer Cristian Sirbu stated that Peschir not only tipped supporters of Georgescu but also sent gifts to supporters of his opponents. Sirbu noted that Peschir had explicitly told others he was giving money not for political purposes.

“But the judge was not listening at all,” Sirbu recalled one judge from the hearing in March last year, “he said that even if (Peschir) tells others not to follow suit, there’s still a subconscious suggestion prompting them to do just that. He should see a psychiatrist. I even started to wonder if I should check into a mental hospital.”

The government also stated that after Peschir's arrest, approximately $7 million found in cryptocurrency accounts contradicted “the level of lifestyle corresponding to his business activities.” This represents the government's closest assertion to accusing Peschir of off-the-books income or of suggesting that TikTok tipping funds were not his own.

However, the current allegations against Peschir do not pertain to the sources of funds. Until 2023, he worked for nearly a decade at a Bitcoin ATM company called BitXatm. Since then, he claims to operate full-time trading cryptocurrencies. “Most of my investments are done on publicly decentralized platforms, and anyone with blockchain knowledge can easily verify it,” he said.

Peschir's case is part of a larger investigation into the backers of Georgescu. Since Georgescu won the first round and was then disqualified, he has been under tight scrutiny. He has been accused of glorifying the Legion Movement (which is illegal in Romania) and allegedly conspiring to overthrow the government after the election results were annulled. In October 2025, Romania’s Attorney General confirmed that assistance had been sought from at least three foreign entities to investigate the sources of Georgescu’s campaign funding.

Last autumn, Romanian President Dan admitted that securing a conviction against Peschir remains difficult. “We know how (social media influence operations) are implemented,” he said, “we know parts of the trail — whether it's fake accounts or the agencies involved in paid network ads — have evidence pointing to Russia. What we don’t know is who designed the entire strategy. Likewise, we know very little about the flow of funds... everything related to Bogdan Peschir.”

Peschir has been under arrest for almost a year. A police source told Businessweek that the case is still under investigation. He has returned home, can go out freely, and has a new laptop to replace those that were confiscated. He claims he is trying to recoup his losses through cryptocurrency trading. He describes himself as a workaholic and introverted, “living a very quiet and peaceful life,” spending most of his time in the office. “The only free time I have, I go to church, spend time with my pets, read, or drive late at night to relax.” He states that tipping on TikTok is merely another way to relieve stress.

In December 2024, the Romanian government submitted TikTok to the EU Commission to investigate whether it had fulfilled sufficient obligations to prevent the platform from being manipulated. The investigation results have yet to be released.

TikTok admits there were attempts at election manipulation but disagrees with the Romanian authorities' depiction of the operations. In an email to Businessweek, a TikTok spokesperson stated that the company dismantled multiple manipulation networks targeting Romania from November to December 2024, stating that these networks did not exclusively support Georgescu. “Given the broad range of supported candidates, asserting that Călin Georgescu is the sole beneficiary of non-authentic activities on TikTok is inaccurate and cannot measure the relative advantages gained by different candidates.” the spokesperson said.

However, Dan pointed directly at the main adversary. “We are facing a Russian information attack against European countries,” he stated in October, labeling the Russian actions suspected of subverting the Romanian election as hybrid warfare.

This term refers to indirect hostilities between states that do not involve violent aggression, aimed at subverting from within the target. Western governments most often attribute this strategy to Russia, accusing it of intervening in elections, sabotaging infrastructure, supporting coups, and more. Russia consistently denies involvement.

For supporters of the government’s stance, the harder it is to verify, the more it indicates that the conspirators effectively covered their tracks. For skeptics, this suggests that the so-called conspiracy is merely a conspiracy theory.

The unprecedented decision to annul the election left many Romanians dissatisfied. Elena Lasconi, a mainstream candidate who originally stood a chance against Georgescu and finished second, stated that canceling the election “shattered the core of democracy — the ballot.” In January 2025, tens of thousands marched in Bucharest, some carrying coffins marked with the word “democracy.”

At one point, Romania's decision to remove Georgescu from the race seemed counterproductive. Another sovereigntist candidate, George Simion, announced his candidacy. Like Georgescu, he is skeptical of the EU and its aid to Ukraine, asserting that Russia does not pose a threat to NATO. Georgescu openly endorses him.

Two months after this candidate's brief electoral victory, on the same day he was taken in for questioning by police, his supporters gathered. Photographer: Alex Nicodim / Anadolu Agency

In the first round of the re-election in May 2025, Simion received 41% of the vote, far exceeding Georgescu’s previous 23%. His final opponent is mathematician and activist Dan, who has served as mayor of Bucharest since 2020. Multiple global media outlets predict that Simion will win. On May 7, Reuters headlined: “Romania's far-right leader Simion leads in pre-election polls.” The Romanian currency leu fell to historic lows against the euro, clearly reflecting investor concerns over Simion's economic policies.

On TikTok, Simion has 1.3 million followers, while Dan has only 350,000. Simion posts videos of himself with workers and at church; Dan shares content of himself enjoying urban life in Bucharest, dining out, and splitting household chores with his partner. Simion talks about restoring dignity and justice for Romanians; Dan explains math problems and how to balance a budget. Simion aims to have Romanians join a great historical movement; Dan discusses the rule of law and liberalism.

TikTok, still undergoing an EU investigation, has responded to suspicious activity on the platform during the final election period more actively. Mircea Toma, secretary of state for Romania’s audiovisual council (which regulates broadcasting), stated that TikTok doubled its Romanian language review staff and worked more closely with regulators. “We can delete flagged content within minutes,” Toma said, “previously it was impossible to find anyone.”

On voting day, May 18, Romanian voters surprised everyone again. Dan defeated Simion with 53.6% to 46.4%. Following the results released at 9 PM that evening, a large crowd gathered outside Dan's campaign headquarters near Cișmigiu Park in Bucharest. Voter turnout hit a record 65%, while the turnout for the annulled first round was only 53%. The crowd chanted “Europe, Europe” and “Fascists out,” with many waving EU flags.

The Kremlin's favored candidate lost, but the political ideology akin to Georgescu's clearly lingers. “Our society is more polarized than ever,” said Romanian journalist Victor Ilie; “Because we annulled the elections and re-elected, all those who voted for Simion and Georgescu do not perceive Nicușor Dan as the legitimate president. On the other hand, those who voted for Dan are ecstatic that the far-right did not win, venerating him in an extreme manner. These two groups no longer communicate.”

Certainly, it is those who firmly believe Georgescu is the true victim of election interference who are Bogdan Peschir. “The reason the Romanian election had to be annulled is that the 'wrong' person won — the wrong person for the political establishment,” he said.

When asked why he thinks Georgescu could rise to prominence, Peschir stated it is purely because he is contagious. “I believe it is merely because people resonate with his ideas,” he said, “Romanian society deeply longs for change, and people see him as an outsider. He is very skilled at touching on the significant issues that genuinely pain Romania.”

In a sense, this is obvious. The viral propaganda incited by fake accounts gave Georgescu a huge first-mover advantage, allowing him to enter everyday people's phones first. And once he reached the audience, many were indeed persuaded. The false campaign ultimately turned into real public sentiment.

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