On July 9, 2025, Kosovo hosted the presidential elections of the European Esports Federation – an event that was supposed to mark a turning point for the continent’s esports scene. Instead of a fair contest of ideas, leadership, and vision, the world witnessed a political stage play orchestrated behind closed doors, adhering to the worst traditions of backroom diplomacy.
At the heart of this operation were two key figures: Łukasz Klimczik, Secretary General of the European Esports Federation, and his ally Boban Totovski, Secretary General of the International Esports Federation. Klimczik championed his compatriot Adam Krzesiński, while Totovski provided international-level support and coordination.
In the days leading up to the vote, an aggressive campaign was launched to discredit the Ukrainian candidate. Every tactic was used: information attacks, intimidation, promises of positions, administrative pressure, manipulation of delegate registrations, and procedural violations during the vote. The winner was not the one with ideas, a strong team, or experience – but the one backed by the backroom coalition.
The first signs of a rigged outcome appeared a week before the vote. Klimczik and Totovski issued an official statement accusing Ukraine of fraud and labeling its candidate a scammer – without presenting any evidence. One of the first to support the move was Ido Brosh, Israeli board member of the International Federation and Totovski’s close associate. All three held leadership positions across both organizations – a textbook conflict of interest.
Klimczik and Totovski spearheaded a broad discreditation strategy. Their first step was to neutralize delegations likely to support the Ukrainian candidate. The Welsh federation initially intended to vote for him, but its vote was nullified by the federation’s board – a decision supported by the UK, creating a strategic voting block.
Another blow came with Armenia’s federation, which was blocked from attending after being excluded from Kosovo’s visa-free list. Representatives from Armenia and Montenegro discovered this only while applying for travel documents. As a result, more votes were lost.
Meanwhile, the Ukrainian candidate received no information on the election’s location, date, or venue – while Polish candidate Adam Krzesiński was personally accompanied by Boban Totovski.
Another unexplored concern is how some delegates actually arrived in Kosovo. Who paid for their tickets, transportation, and accommodation? There is still no public investigation into this matter, but it raises red flags. In international sports governance, such “logistics support” is a classic form of soft corruption – providing convenience in exchange for political loyalty. Transparency here is essential for evaluating the legitimacy of the vote.
Next came the dealmaking phase, starting with Scandinavian countries. Denmark, Iceland, and Finland were reportedly offered a deal: support the Polish candidate, and Elin Yoojung Moen – Norway’s delegate – would become Vice President of the Federation. Once the deal was sealed, Spain and France, both represented by women, joined in support of this “package vote.”
Yet another breach occurred when individuals voted twice – once as board members and again as national federation delegates. This directly violates democratic voting principles, especially the “one person, one vote” rule.
During the actual congress, the Ukrainian candidate faced loaded and discriminatory questions. One delegate from Romania asked: “Can you be president if your country is at war?” Meanwhile, Krzesiński was asked only six mild questions, none addressing his competence or policies.
Additional votes for Krzesiński were secured through political bargaining. Germany received the promise of a seat on the IESF board, which indirectly brought Luxembourg on board due to their alignment. Another country shifted its position after a call from its National Olympic Committee. Kosovo, in turn, was awarded the right to host a major esports tournament – another clear instance of political compensation.
Online, the smear campaign continued. Prominent Ukrainian influencer Vitaliy Volochai posted direct accusations against the Ukrainian candidate. This post was quickly adopted by Belarus and used in official arguments to support Krzesiński’s candidacy.
In contrast, the Ukrainian candidate presented a six-member team of professionals – including an Olympic medalist, inclusion expert, and esports education leader. A strategic program was delivered, video statements recorded, and future plans detailed. Krzesiński, meanwhile, admitted: “I have no esports experience, but maybe I can help.” No team. No platform. Only connections.
One particularly disturbing moment came when a promotional video showed Krzesiński beside the late EEF President Adam Krasnicki – an emotional play to symbolically imply “the passing of the torch.” Many delegates saw this as an unethical and manipulative stunt.
After the vote, Krzesiński didn’t even stay for the award ceremony of the tournament held simultaneously in Kosovo. His absence further confirmed suspicions that the elections were merely a formality – with influence and power mattering more than genuine presence or responsibility toward the community he now officially represents.
This election was not about esports development. It was about how private deals, conflicts of interest, political pressure, and possibly sponsored travel can render every federation’s vote meaningless. We call on ethics committees, journalists, and all participants to explain their roles. We are open to public dialogue – including with the newly elected president.
Because this is not just about one position. It is about whether European esports has any hope for a fair and transparent future.
The editorial team reserves the right to continue pursuing independent investigations. An exclusive interview with the candidate who lost this election – and has a lot to say – is currently in preparation.