A governance crisis at LibreOffice and a licensing war over OnlyOffice have resulted in the biggest threat to open source office software since Oracle nearly killed the whole Open Office project back in the early 2010s.
The open source office software world rarely makes headlines. Spreadsheets and word processors are the workhorses of desk work–useful and unglamorous. They tend to walk a fine line between feature bloat and obsolescence, and none of them are very beloved. But recently, this quiet world erupted into two simultaneous forking upheavals, each with implications for open source governance and corporate stewardship over community software.
StarOffice to OpenOffice
The story begins in Germany in 1985, when Star Division developed a proprietary suite called StarOffice. In 1999, Sun Microsystems acquired it for $59.5 million–reportedly because it was cheaper than licensing Microsoft Office for Sun’s thousands of employees.
(Think about that for a moment: the cost of buying an entire company was less than an enterprise license from Microsoft for off-the-shelf software.)
Sun then made a fateful decision: on July 19, 2000, at the O’Reilly Open Source Convention, it announced it would release the software as an open source project. OpenOffice.org 1.0 shipped on May 1, 2002 and quickly became the free alternative to Microsoft Office across most Linux distributions of the time.
This start was rocky, though. The original OpenOffice was functional but had real problems: sluggish startup times (the infamous “splash screen wait”), a bloated memory footprint, inconsistent Microsoft format compatibility, and an awkward user interface.
When Oracle acquired Sun in January 2010, matters deteriorated rapidly. Oracle slashed its developer headcount, and by September 2010 the community was foundering. The project was given over to The Document Foundation, which launched the re-branded LibreOffice in January, 2011. Every major Linux distribution adopted it almost immediately.
The project also gained renewed interest as its quality improved. TDF cleared out a large backlog of patches that had been sitting unmerged for years,
and started an aggressive cleanup of the codebase. After a while, the product became more useable and stable.
The Document Foundation Turns on its Own Builders
LibreOffice’s main support at the time was Collabora Productivity, a UK-based company whose developers accounted for roughly 80% of all commits to the LibreOffice codebase. But this relationship was always uneasy, because Collabora both contributed to the free suite and sold a commercial version of their own.

Enter geopolitics: LibreOffice became a darling of open source-focused European governmental groups: users in Germany, Italy and Denmark adopted LibreOffice as part of a transition away from Microsoft. While this was outwardly touted as a move toward open source, it was just as much an attempt to elude the hegemony of US software interests.
Then the uneasy partnership between LibreOffice and Collabora fractured in spectacular fashion at the end of March 2026. TDF’s Membership Committee ejected over 43 contributors who were Collabora staff and partners, citing a newly approved bylaw barring contributions from employees of companies involved in legal disputes with the foundation. The expelled contributors included seven of LibreOffice’s ten most prolific committers, including Michael Meeks, Collabora’s general manager for the project and one of LibreOffice’s original architects. But this was apparently only the divorce after a long and tempestuous marriage; according to Collabora, several of TDF’s own founders had already quietly departed membership in the preceding years.

Then, in a public statement, Michael Meeks announced plans to launch a new Collabora Office product built from a cleaner codebase. The company did not formally create a fork, but its intention to supplant LibreOffice was clear: “We seem to be back where we were fifteen years ago,” Meeks wrote. OSNews summarized it bluntly: “The end result seems to be that Collabora is effectively forking LibreOffice.” Government IT departments across Europe then faced a choice between a foundation-stewarded codebase with little momentum, and a corporate fork. That put them, in a way, back to their original dilemma of being reliant on a foreign corporate steward.
Euro-Office and the OnlyOffice Drama
At the same time, another forking drama was unfolding in the world of OnlyOffice, a web-based office suite developed in Russia by Ascensio System and licensed under the GNU Affero General Public License (AGPL). This product is “dual-licensed,” with the vendor offering alternative commercial licenses. OnlyOffice was not based on LibreOffice, but was widely considered its most competitive substitute. In late March 2026, Nextcloud and the German cloud provider IONOS announced Euro-Office: a fork of OnlyOffice touted as a European-controlled alternative to both Microsoft 365 and OnlyOffice. The project’s rationale was explicit–OnlyOffice’s development is centered in Russia, and European organizations increasingly viewed that as a geopolitical risk.

OnlyOffice did not react well to the fork. The company suspended its eight-year partnership with Nextcloud, alleging that Euro-Office violated the AGPL by stripping required attribution,* branding, and logos from the code– additions OnlyOffice appended to the standard AGPL terms. The company also accused Nextcloud of attempting to poach its employees.
The Deeper Pattern
Both crises expose the same underlying fault line: what happens when the entity that governs an open source software parts ways with the people who actually build it? With LibreOffice, The Document Foundation holds the trademark and the governance apparatus, but Collabora holds the engineering talent. With Euro-Office, Nextcloud holds the distribution channel and the political narrative; OnlyOffice holds the code and the licensing leverage. In neither case does the formal authority align with the practical power.
Open source governance has always struggled with this tension. The Apache OpenOffice story, after all, ended with a foundation holding a brand nobody wanted to develop. The risk now is that LibreOffice, the suite on which European governments bet millions in anti-Microsoft savings, had fractured at the worst possible moment: just as those governments, struggling with economic woes, need it most.
This illustrates that neither corporate control nor non-profit control are panaceas for the challenge of open source sustainability and community cohesion. Good governance requires resources, but also commitment, and when either fails, projects suffer.
*The AGPL violation question is interesting, but beyond the scope of this post.















