The memory of the Nazi dictatorship, seared into the national consciousness through a relentless culture of remembrance and accountability known as Vergangenheitsbewältigung, created a powerful immune system. A cordon sanitaire, often called the firewall (Brandmauer), existed among the mainstream parties, vowing never to cooperate with extremists. The idea of a far-right party sitting in the Bundestag was, for most of the post-war period, unthinkable.
Today, that firewall is cracking. The Alternative for Germany (Alternative für Deutschland, or AfD) is not merely a fringe group; it is a sustained political force. It leads in polls in several eastern German states, its representatives sit in every state parliament and the federal Bundestag, and it attracts millions of voters who feel alienated by the political establishment. Its rise represents the most significant and unsettling shift in German politics since reunification.
To understand this phenomenon is to look beyond simple explanations. The rise of the AfD is not a sudden fever but a slow-burning crisis, a story of tectonic plates shifting beneath the surface of Europe’s largest economy. It is a complex tapestry woven from economic anxiety, cultural backlash, political missteps, and the profound legacy of German history.
From Protest to Political Force: A Brief History of the AfD
The AfD’s origins, in 2013, were not explicitly far-right. It was founded as a eurosceptic, professorial party focused primarily on opposing bailouts for southern European countries during the Eurozone crisis. Its early supporters were economically liberal conservatives and ordoliberals disillusioned with Angela Merkel’s centrist course.
The first pivotal shift came in 2015 with the arrival of over a million refugees and migrants, primarily from Syria, Afghanistan, and Iraq. Chancellor Merkel’s decisive policy, encapsulated by her phrase “Wir schaffen das” (“We can do this”), became the perfect catalyst for the AfD. The party rapidly morphed from an anti-euro protest vehicle into an anti-immigration, nationalist movement. It tapped into deep-seated fears about cultural identity, security, and the strain on the social welfare system.
This transformation was accompanied by an internal power struggle, which saw the more moderate founding figures purged and replaced with hardliners like Alexander Gauland, Alice Weidel, and the particularly incendiary Björn Höcke from the party’s eastern Flügel (wing). Höcke, who has famously called Berlin’s Holocaust memorial a “monument of shame,” represents the völkisch, ethno-nationalist strand of the party that has moved it unequivocally into the far-right camp. Though the Flügel was formally dissolved in 2020, its ideology continues to dominate the party’s platform and rhetoric.
The Root Causes: Why Now, and Why Germany?
The AfD’s success cannot be attributed to a single cause. It is the convergence of several powerful streams of discontent.
1. The Migration Shock and the Culture War
The 2015 refugee crisis was a watershed moment. For many Germans, Merkel’s open-door policy, however well-intentioned, felt like a unilateral decision made without public consent. The AfD masterfully framed this not just as a question of asylum policy, but as an existential threat to German Leitkultur (leading culture). They positioned themselves as the last defenders of a traditional, Christian-European identity against what they portray as an invasion from fundamentally different, and often incompatible, cultures.
This narrative persists long after the peak of the crisis. Debates over integration, crime statistics, and the cost of accommodating migrants continue to dominate the discourse, with the AfD consistently stoking fears and positioning itself as the only party telling the “uncomfortable truth.”
2. The “East German Factor” and Persistent Divisions
A stark geographical divide defines the AfD’s support. The party is consistently twice as strong in the eastern states (the former GDR) than in the west. This is not a coincidence. It is the legacy of a “wall in the mind” that persists more than three decades after reunification.
Many in the east feel like second-class citizens. They have experienced deindustrialization, a sense of having their life histories from the GDR era invalidated, and a perceived condescension from the western political establishment. The AfD channels this resentment brilliantly. It presents itself as the voice of the “little man” against the Berlin elite, the party that understands the feeling of being left behind and disrespected. This sense of ostalgia (nostalgia for the East) mixed with modern grievance is a potent fuel for protest voting.
3. Economic Anxieties in a Changing World
While Germany boasts a strong economy on aggregate, the benefits are not evenly distributed. Globalization, automation, and the transition to a green economy have created winners and losers. The AfD finds strong support among small business owners, skilled workers, and those in regions facing economic decline who feel threatened by these changes.
The party taps into fears of downward mobility and the loss of a cherished way of life. Its climate denialism, for instance, is not just about science; it’s a defense of the German auto industry and the internal combustion engine, symbols of national prosperity and engineering prowess. It frames the green transition, championed by the Greens, as an elitist project that will make life unaffordable for ordinary people.
4. The Failure of the Mainstream and the Rise of Discontent
The AfD’s rise is also a story of failure elsewhere. The center-left Social Democratic Party (SPD) has struggled to define a clear identity and has lost much of its traditional working-class base. The center-right CDU/CSU, after 16 years of Merkel’s pragmatism, moved so far to the center that it created a vacuum on the right which the AfD was all too happy to fill.
Many voters see the established parties as a self-serving cartel (Altparteien), all saying the same thing and unable to solve pressing problems like the housing crisis, infrastructure decay, and bureaucratic inertia. The AfD benefits from this general Politikverdrossenheit (disaffection with politics). For a growing number, voting for the AfD is the most powerful protest ballot available.
The New Frontier: The “Remigration” Debate and Mass Deportation Fantasies
The political discourse in Germany crossed a new threshold in late 2023 with the revelation of a meeting between senior AfD figures, other far-right activists, and neo-Nazis in Potsdam. The topic discussed was “remigration”—a euphemism for the mass deportation of millions of people of foreign descent, including German citizens.
This was not a fringe gathering. The ideas discussed there, which echo the darkest chapters of German history, have seeped into the mainstream AfD platform. The party now openly discusses creating “climate zones” in North Africa to deport asylum seekers to, and its rhetoric increasingly targets not just new arrivals but anyone it deems “not assimilated.”
This radicalization has had a paradoxical effect. It has triggered the largest sustained public protests in decades, with hundreds of thousands of Germans taking to the streets under the banner “We are the firewall” to demonstrate against the far-right. Yet, simultaneously, it has also normalized such extreme ideas, pulling the Overton window sharply to the right and forcing a more hardline conversation on migration across the political spectrum.
The Firewall Under Strain: A System in Crisis
The established democratic parties still officially uphold the Brandmauer, refusing any form of cooperation with the AfD at the federal level. However, this consensus is under immense strain. At the municipal and state level, tacit cooperation is already happening. The CDU is engaged in a fierce internal debate about whether to soften this firewall, especially as the AfD’s poll numbers make it a potential kingmaker—or even the leading party—in future state governments.
This presents a profound moral and strategic dilemma. Maintaining the firewall could lead to political paralysis in regions where the AfD is strong. Dismantling it, however, risks legitimizing a party that the domestic intelligence service (Bundesverfassungsschutz) has formally classified as a “confirmed right-wing extremist endeavor” in parts of the country.
Conclusion: A Battle for the Soul of the Republic
The rise of the AfD is more than just the success of a single party. It is a symptom of a deeper crisis of confidence in the German post-reunification model. It reveals the unresolved tensions between East and West, the deep anxieties unleashed by globalization and demographic change, and a growing disconnect between a significant portion of the electorate and the political elite.
Germany now stands at a precipice. The protests show that a strong, pro-democratic civil society is awake and fighting. But the steady climb of the AfD in the polls shows that anger and alienation are powerful forces.
The solution does not lie in merely condemning AfD voters as racists. It requires a sober, honest, and difficult national conversation. It demands that mainstream parties address the legitimate grievances about housing, inequality, and a feeling of political powerlessness with more than just technical policy proposals. They must reclaim a language of belonging, community, and national pride that the far-right has monopolized, but do so within the firm boundaries of the democratic constitution.
The fault line running through Germany is a warning for the entire Western world. It proves that even in a nation with the most robust defenses against its own dark history, the siren song of nationalism, simple answers, and the blame of the “other” can find a receptive audience. The battle for the soul of the Bundesrepublik is not over; it has just entered its most critical phase.