It’s all part of a pattern in which she and a close-knit circle of largely German advisers run the show, largely shunning scrutiny from the European Parliament and keeping a tight grip on all messaging and communication.
Von der Leyen’s bout of pneumonia in January provided a stark example of the way things are now done. Her communications team deliberately obscured the fact a major world leader was in hospital, while von der Leyen herself did not relinquish control of the EU executive to her No. 2. That also meant a meeting of the 27 commissioners could not take place in Poland without her.
Some of this culture of secrecy was evident in her first term, most specifically when she refused to reveal text messages she exchanged with the chief executive of Pfizer in which she personally negotiated vaccine contracts during the Covid-19 pandemic. The stonewalling drew sharp criticism from the EU ombudsman, which said von der Leyen’s team was guilty of “maladministration.”
Von der Leyen not only brushed off the ombudsman’s rebuke but doubled down by officially limiting access to certain kinds of documents, in a move that is being challenged by environmental NGO ClientEarth. Consolidating her grip on the Commission’s outward image, von der Leyen has also further reduced the institution’s number of spokespeople.
“You see an evolution towards a presidential system, and you see it even more … under von der Leyen,” said Karel Lannoo, chief executive of the Centre for European Policy Studies think tank.
There have been real-world consequences of her top-down style. Big policy comes straight from the top, and Brussels was largely blindsided by her sudden move to launch a massive bonfire of the bloc’s red tape. The approach also means that things stop without her: The unveiling of the EU’s flagship plan to fix the economy, for example — dubbed the “competitiveness compass” — was delayed because of von der Leyen’s absence.