The shooting of Slovakia’s prime minister Robert Fico on 15th May left the nation in shock. Yet, far from deterring Fico, the attack has further emboldened a leader intent on consolidating his hold on the central European nation. Slovakia, a member of the EU and Nato with a population of 5.5m people, now finds itself at a critical juncture as its democratic foundations are challenged.
Fico, who returned to office in 2023 after three previous terms as prime minister, had already spent months enacting controversial policies. His nationalist-populist government has moved with alarming speed to reduce penalties for white-collar crimes, halt state-funded military aid to Ukraine and target key state institutions. The office of the special prosecutor, once in charge of investigating major corruption cases, has been dismantled, while the national public broadcaster has been turned into a government-controlled entity.
More than three months after the failed assassination, the Slovak premier is back at work, seemingly galvanised by his near-death experience. His rhetoric has grown more incendiary, accusing the liberal opposition of inciting hatred, denouncing the media for a “witch hunt” against him and chastising Slovakia’s western allies for allegedly disrespecting the country’s “sovereign foreign policy”.
This troubling pattern has intensified in recent weeks. The interior minister Matúš Šutaj Eštok has made clear his intention to disband the National Criminal Agency (NAKA), a specialist anti-corruption police force. The justice minister Boris Susko has orchestrated the early release from prison of Dušan Kováčik, a former prosecutor convicted of taking bribes and leaking information. Meanwhile, the culture minister Martina Šimkovičová has purged the leadership of major cultural institutions, including the national theatre and gallery, installing government loyalists in their place. Particularly concerning is the appointment of the son of a disgraced former police chief, Pavol Gašpar, as the head of the country’s intelligence agency.
Each of these actions adds another piece to what increasingly resembles a state capture. The assault on Slovakia’s democratic norms and institutions by the Fico government is systematic, deliberate and relentless. Fico has identified his enemies—the forces of progressivism and liberalism “spreading like a cancer” that manifest in the liberal opposition, the independent media and civil activism—and has set about neutralising them with methodical precision. His rhetoric frames these elements as existential threats to Slovakia’s sovereignty and traditional values, resonating with a portion of the electorate disillusioned with the country’s direction since the overthrow of communism in 1989.
Fico’s political comeback, which culminated in his 2023 electoral victory, is nothing short of remarkable. Ousted in 2018 after the murder of investigative journalist Ján Kuciak and his fiancée—a crime that triggered mass protests—Fico’s political career appeared to be over. Kuciak was probing corruption and possible links between Slovak politicians and the Italian mafia, leading to a political crisis that momentarily suggested that Slovakia might turn a page. Zuzana Čaputová, a liberal, was elected as the country’s first female president in 2019 and a pro-EU, pro-Ukraine government won the general election the following year.
But in opposition, Fico skilfully exploited widespread anti-lockdown sentiment during the pandemic, opposition to EU sanctions on Russia, and the internal discord within the centre-right government that left most voters disenchanted. His nationalist-tinged populism steered his party, Smer, further to the right, resulting in a narrow victory in the 2023 parliamentary election and the formation of a coalition with the centre-left moderate Hlas party and the ultra-nationalist right-wing Slovak National Party.
Comparisons with Hungary’s Viktor Orbán are inevitable. Both men view liberalism as the chief enemy, employ the politics of fear wrapped in nationalist rhetoric and are relentless in their pursuit of power. When Orbán recently visited to Moscow, drawing near-universal condemnation from EU leaders, the Slovak premier praised the visit, noting that he would have joined the trip had it not been for the assassination attempt.
However, while Orbán is a man of ideology—championing what he proudly calls an “illiberal” state rooted in Christian values and ethnonationalist conservatism—Fico is a man of revenge. Fuelled by past grievances and a brush with criminal charges shortly before the election, Fico’s actions are more about seeking vindication and self-preservation. For him, state capture is not an ideological project but a strategy to shield himself and his allies from the forces of justice.
Slovakia’s flirtation with totalitarian instincts is not without precedent. The country’s image was severely tarnished during the rule of prime minister Vladimír Mečiar in the 1990s. Mečiar’s authoritarian tendencies isolated the country, prompting then US secretary of state Madeleine Albright to describe it as the “black hole of Europe”. Reformist governments in the 2000s, along with accession to the EU and Nato, transformed Slovakia’s economy and restored its political standing in Europe.
Despite his alarming behaviour Fico’s position is secure, partly because the country’s pro-democracy forces remain divided. The largest opposition party, Progressive Slovakia, is staunchly pro-EU but struggles to broaden its appeal beyond the pro-western, well-educated voters in urban areas. The centre right, meanwhile, is fragmented among smaller parties, weakening the prospects for a unified challenge to Fico’s government before the next parliamentary election in 2027.
For Slovakia’s western partners, the hope was that Fico, despite his self-serving tendencies, would ultimately prove pragmatic. This view has been partially validated—the Slovak premier has not vetoed Ukraine’s accession talks with the EU or the bloc’s sanctions on Russia, despite his vocal opposition. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that Fico’s good behaviour on the international stage comes at a heavy price: a tacit acceptance of the systematic erosion of the rule of law in Slovakia.
As the next EU leadership takes office this autumn, Slovakia is poised to create a new headache. The EU’s experience with Hungary in recent years has shown that tolerating the weakening of democratic norms only entrenches such practices. Whether Brussels has learnt this lesson will soon be put to the test by Slovakia.
