Could the far right come to power again in Germany?

With Alternative für Deutschland now consistently polling ahead of the governing party, the right-wing eurosceptics are set to double their seats in the European Parliament in June. But could a manifesto call for the forced repatriation of millions of migrants pave the way for the unthinkable to happen in next year’s general election, ask Mark Hollingsworth and Thibault Krause

AfD’s regional leader Björn Höcke, a charismatic 52-year-old former history teacher, is on course to be the next governor of Thuringia (AP)

As a secret location to plot the political future of Germany, Hotel Landhaus Adlon was not the most diplomatic and sensitive choice. Overlooking Lake Lehnitz in Potsdam, near Berlin, the hotel is a mere 20-minute drive from the site of the infamous Wannsee Conference in 1942, where Reinhard Heydrich and other high-ranking Nazi officials discussed the “Jewish question”, ultimately leading to the Holocaust.

The participants – leading members of the far-right AfD (Alternative for Germany) – clearly had not realised the chilling parallels. This meeting last November was organised by two businessmen and attended by Roland Hartwig, aide to the AfD leader, Ulrich Siegmund, a regional parliamentary leader, two Austrian neo-Nazi activists, and even two members of the conservative but mainstream Christian Democratic Party.

Widespread forced remigration was at the top of the agenda that grey Saturday morning. They discussed deporting not only refugees or asylum seekers but also those not considered “true ethnic Germans”, including well-integrated second or third-generation German citizens with foreign heritage.

When details of the meeting leaked, the German political establishment was shocked, and hundreds of thousands protested throughout the country. Even the Catholic Church declared that Christians should not vote for the AfD, due to their extreme nationalist views which verge on ethnic cleansing.

Usually, far-right parties do not attract substantial support in Germany. Such is the sensitivity over any association with extreme right-wing factions that a fortnight ago Adidas moved quickly to block Germany’s football kits which feature the number 44 in the Euro 2024 tournament amid concerns it resembles the Nazi “SS” symbol. (The font of the number “4”, when the figures are side by side, resembles the lightning bolt-style rune designed by the SS in the 1930s.)

And yet in recent months, opinion polls have shown growing support for the AfD, which could influence the political direction of Germany, and have important implications for the EU – and the war in Ukraine.

The AfD is no longer a fringe protest group. Founded as a conservative anti-EU party, the AfD has moved to the far right and is now classified as a “suspected danger” to the German constitution. The fear is how it has integrated itself into the political mainstream.

The party is led by former businesswoman Alice Weidel and former house painter Tino Chrupalla. But their power base is in the Thuringia region, where the AfD leader is Björn Höcke, a 52-year-old former history teacher. A strident and charismatic populist, Höcke is set to be the next governor of Thuringia this autumn. He has been branded officially as an extremist and fascist by a local court and placed under constitutional surveillance.

But while Höcke appears to be an outlier, the Potsdam hotel meeting suggests he is not alone. He leads a powerful faction within the AfD, and far-right policies now control the party.

As the AfD enjoys increasing support, could the unthinkable happen? Could this sinister right-wing party actually come to power? The AfD currently attracts 18 per cent in national polls, second only to the conservative Christian Democratic Union (CDU).

For the European Parliament elections this June, the AfD is expected to double its share of the vote. In eastern Germany, where three statewide elections are held this autumn, the party is set to win, for the first time, most of the votes, potentially forming their first regional governments if they find another party with which to form coalitions. This could happen in an unholy alliance with the BSW party, founded by Sahra Wagenknecht, a popular pro-Putin, left-wing poster girl who grew up in East Germany but agrees with the right on fighting against Nato and a woke society.

Even a strong AfD is, however, unlikely to form a national government. Germany’s proportional election system means cooperation with other parties is required to pass any legislation. All established parties have stated they will never work or form a coalition with the AfD. While this prevents the AfD from securing national power, it does not prevent its influence. Indeed, its growing popularity could result in political chaos. The AfD’s rising numbers make it difficult for the other parties to form the stable and cohesive government coalitions required to reach the 50+1 per cent threshold.

The current administration is a case in point: for the first time in German history, three parties are in power, leading to unprecedented internal government division. Should the AfD get stronger, then coalition governments involving multiple parties from different political factions will become more likely, blurring their ideological allegiances and policy differences. This could turn into a vicious cycle where the established parties are forced to work together unhappily, leading to less stability and making the AfD the only viable alternative.

So why has the AfD attracted so much support in Germany? Most of the reasons are predictable – increased migration, economic insecurity and perceived cultural threats to the traditional way of life. But one factor is more unique to Germany – disillusionment with mainstream politics. Olaf Scholz’s centre-left coalition is extremely unpopular and the AfD skilfully exploits this dissatisfaction to present itself as an alternative to the “green” and “woke” orthodoxy.

The far right portrays itself as a champion of “ordinary people” against the elites. Populists like Höcke, with his nationalist and inflammatory rhetoric, resonate with segments of the population who feel marginalised and disenchanted with the status quo. And an underperforming economy, especially high energy prices due to the lack of Russian gas and the abandonment of nuclear power, only reinforces those anti-establishment tendencies.

If the AfD secures any influence, it promises to withdraw from the EU, abandon Ukraine, lift the sanctions against Russia, support negotiations with Putin and welcome Trump back into the White House. Unsurprisingly, the party is intensely hostile towards the EU and prefers dictators like Putin.

But AfD’s pro-Russia stance will be tested after claims its foreign policy spokesperson, Petr Bystron, accepted €25,000 from the pro-Russian media network, Voice of Europe, to promote the Kremlin line on the Ukraine war, according to recent media reports. Bystron, one of AfD’s leading candidates in the European parliament elections, told newspapers he “did not accept any money to advocate pro-Russian positions”.

The frightening scenario is if Germans were to vote today, the governing coalition would only attract 35 per cent of the votes – far from the required majority. Could the AfD be the largest party in any national election? Very unlikely. Most Germans do not support the far right and remain comfortable with the post-war centrist consensus which has brought prosperity and security. But the status quo is under threat, and while the AfD will not exert power, they could soon wield real influence.