Bulgaria is set to adopt the euro on 1 January 2026, but the final stretch toward membership of the single-currency zone is unfolding against a turbulent political backdrop and persistent public scepticism. Although roughly half of Bulgarians oppose the switch, the euro itself has not been the dominant theme of the mass protests that culminated in the resignation of Prime Minister Rosen Zhelyazkov. Instead, the currency debate has become entangled in a wider confrontation over governance, corruption, and the country’s direction inside the European Union.
Public opinion has been split for years, with concerns centred on two familiar fears: price increases after the changeover and the loss of a symbolic attribute of sovereignty, the national currency. Yet Bulgaria’s case is unusual because the practical shift is likely to be smaller than in many other countries that have adopted the euro. The Bulgarian lev has been rigidly tied to the euro for decades through a currency-board-style arrangement, meaning Bulgaria has long operated without an independent monetary policy and has effectively lived under the constraints of eurozone decisions without having a formal seat at the table. Joining the eurozone would formalise that reality while giving Sofia representation in the European Central Bank’s top decision-making structures.
The protests that shook Bulgaria in late 2025 were driven primarily by domestic policy and political legitimacy rather than a single-issue campaign against the euro. Demonstrations that began as a response to a draft budget—one that reportedly included higher social and pension contributions meant to finance wage increases in the state administration—quickly widened into an anti-corruption revolt and a broader accusation that the state was being captured by entrenched networks. In that context, many protesters were not demanding a halt to the euro; some argued the opposite, that tighter integration with the EU could strengthen external scrutiny, improve Bulgaria’s credibility, and make it harder for corrupt practices to persist behind a façade of institutional normality.
That has not stopped nationalist forces from trying to turn the euro changeover into a political weapon. After Zhelyazkov’s resignation, the nationalist party Revival announced an initiative to delay accession by a year, even as its own leaders reportedly conceded that the chances of success were slim. The deeper problem for euro-sceptic parties is that the technical and political process is already near its endpoint, and Bulgaria’s entry has been framed as the culmination of a long convergence effort rather than a discretionary policy choice that can be easily reversed by a caretaker government.
For the outgoing government, this creates an awkward paradox. Zhelyazkov’s cabinet may be remembered for the protests that brought it down, but it can also claim credit for steering Bulgaria across the last threshold of the convergence criteria required to join the euro. Combined with Bulgaria’s full entry into Schengen at the start of 2025, euro adoption is being presented by many in Sofia as a long-awaited step away from the perception of Bulgaria as a “second-tier” EU member. Whether the label disappears is far from certain. Despite rapid growth since joining the EU in 2007, Bulgaria remains the bloc’s poorest member by GDP per capita, and it continues to struggle with chronic governance problems that affect both public trust and international reputation.
The immediate uncertainty is therefore not whether the euro will arrive on 1 January, but who will oversee the changeover. With party leaders reportedly unable to form a new majority, Bulgaria appears headed toward another snap election—its eighth parliamentary vote in five years. That cycle of instability reinforces the very anxieties many Bulgarians associate with the euro debate: a feeling that major national decisions are being implemented amid political fragmentation, limited legitimacy, and low confidence in institutions.
In practical terms, the euro may not dramatically change Bulgaria’s day-to-day economic mechanics, but symbolically it is a watershed. Supporters see it as a lock-in mechanism anchoring Bulgaria more firmly to the EU’s core, and as a step that could improve investor confidence and reduce the country’s geopolitical vulnerability. Opponents see it as another transfer of sovereignty away from a state that already feels poorly governed and insufficiently protected from the social costs of transition. With the lev already functioning as a shadow euro, the fight is less about monetary policy than about identity, trust, and who gets to define Bulgaria’s future at a moment when its politics remain deeply unsettled.
