Germany Is Thinking of Simply Banning the Far Right

Last week, Germany’s domestic intelligence agency took the dramatic step of classifying the Saxony state branch of the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party as a threat to democracy—a potential first step towards banning it outright as unconstitutional. “There can be no doubt about the extreme right orientation of this party,” declared Dirk-Martin Christian, president of Saxony’s State Office for the Protection of the Constitution.

Although Germany has, in the past, exercised constitutional powers in the name of domestic security to rein in hardcore far-right (and radical leftist) forces, the objects of censure were marginal neo-Nazi parties and associations that had no chance of coming to power—even at the municipal level or in coalition governments. The AfD is a different story. Opinion polls show the AfD as the strongest party by far today in eastern Germany; riding a powerful wave of anti-immigrant sentiment, it has also notched record tallies in western German state elections and is poised to win the most votes next year in the country’s eastern half. It could conceivably wield executive power, should conservatives—such as the Christian Democratic Union (CDU) or the pro-business Free Democratic Party (FDP)—consider it in their interests to treat the far-right party as a legitimate expression of popular will.

Even though both parties say they rule it out, the option is not so far-fetched: Across the EU, conservative parties have turned far-right parties into governing coalition partners, including in Austria, Croatia, Denmark, Finland, Italy, Slovakia, and elsewhere. In the German state of Thuringia, the CDU, FDP, and AfD, all in the opposition but with a majority between them, now team up occasionally to bypass the leftist minority government.

Suddenly, Germans are seeing images of the political chaos of the interwar Weimar Republic flash before their eyes—the republic that ended ignominiously in the Nazi party’s victory and Adolf Hitler’s takeover in 1933.

This is why the agency’s ruling and a possible injunction against the AfD—the latter a highly controversial and risky option that is nevertheless gaining backers across Germany’s political spectrum—has observers questioning whether the Europe-wide surge of the far right can be stopped or slowed by legal measures.

The strategies pursued by the political class haven’t done the job thus far—on the contrary, the AfD is booming—and there’s a long history of banning extremist parties and associations in Europe, not least in Germany. Since mid-2022, both Germany and France arrested members of far-right extremist organizations involved in the planning of terrorist attacks. Under its autocratic leader Viktor Orban, Hungary, as well as authoritarian-ruled Poland, have been denied European Union funds, and in 2019, Orban’s party, Fidesz, was expelled from the mainstream conservative European People’s Party.

But Fidesz’s ouster wasn’t a prohibition, and the extremists in France and Germany did not belong to parties with representatives in the national parliament. In fact, the AfD is the second-largest opposition party in the German Bundestag after the Christian Democrats (and their Bavarian counterpart), and it says that it wants to come to power—democratically, through the ballot box.

The ruling makes Saxony the AfD’s third state branch to come under this level of red-button surveillance, which can include measures such as the German spy services’ covert observation and even infiltration of the party. All three state-level parties—Saxony, Saxony-Anhalt, and Thuringia—are eastern German states with elections scheduled for next year. (In mid-April, the AfD’s nationwide youth organization was also deemed a threat to the democratic order and thus put under surveillance.)

Moreover, in the wake of Geert Wilders’s far-right Party for Freedom’s victory in the Netherlands in November, like-minded contenders across Europe, including the AfD, are expected to perform better than ever in June’s European Parliament election, an event that would have ominous ramifications for the European Union—and beyond.

Much like the rulings on Saxony-Anhalt and Thuringia, Germany’s intelligence agency declared that leading members and functionaries of the Saxony AfD regularly express racist, Islamophobic, and antisemitic sentiments. It labeled the branch as one with “typically ethnic-nationalistic positions” and said that both it and its national youth organization work in tandem with known neo-Nazi and officially banned movements, such as the Reichsbürger movement.

The Saxony branch has a diverse membership, the intelligence agency found, but the party’s leadership adheres to the ideology of its “spiritual father and leader,” referring to “the right-wing extremist Björn Höcke, who now shapes and dominates the character of the entire state-level party.”

Höcke, the AfD’s high-profile, outspoken party leader in Thuringia, was on the party’s far-right fringe for years. But the party has drifted so far to the right that its standard-bearer is now the 51-year-old Höcke , a demagogue who publicly espouses revisionist theories of Germany’s Nazi past and employs racist slogans against immigrants. He was charged in June with using Nazi slogans at AfD campaign rallies—a crime in Germany, where the use of slogans, propaganda, and symbolism linked to “anti-constitutional” organizations is banned.

German law gives the constitutional court the authority to shut down a political party when it pursues anti-constitutional goals and is in a position to achieve these goals. In 2017, Germany’s highest court chose not to disqualify the National Democratic Party of Germany (NPD), a thoroughly neo-Nazi party both in public profile and programmatically, on account of its diminutive size: The party of 6,000 people rarely breached the states’ 5-percent hurdles to be included in parliament and thus never came anywhere near entering government. This autumn, the constitutional court confirmed the expulsion of a former AfD official as a justice in a Saxon state court for constituting a danger to constitutional norms.

This year, the AfD saw representatives voted into official posts as a district administrator and a mayor (in Saxony-Anhalt) for the first time. Presumably, the AfD’s recent showing in the Bavarian and Hessian elections (15 percent and 18 percent respectively, which makes it the strongest opposition party in the regional legislatures) and polling numbers of twice that in eastern Germany endow it with a size unlike the NPD’s and great enough to pose a legitimate threat.

This, at least, is what a growing number of voices from all of Germany’s mainstream parties argue. Those voices are collecting supporters in the Bundestag, where a majority is required to bring the party before the constitutional court.

One of them is a lawyer and CDU parliamentarian from Saxony, Marco Wanderwitz, who argues that “there’s a good reason why the [German Constitution] gives us the option of banning a party,” as he told the daily Die Tageszeitung, “because a defensive democracy [wehrhafte Demokratie] has to wield very sharp swords against its greatest enemies. I have come to the conclusion that the AfD is now undoubtedly radical right wing. They are up to no good and are serious about it. We’ve got to use all of the options at our disposal to beat them. I’m afraid that without a court-ordered prohibition, we’re not going to be rid of them.”

Living in Saxony, Wanderwitz said, he observes how the AfD and its even more militant counterparts draw in disillusioned people and set a confrontational, aggressive tone. “In the parliaments, the AfD is on our backs every day,” he said. “It has thousands of employees who flood the internet and parliaments with right-wing extremist content 24 hours a day. At events in Saxony, I regularly experience that we’re met with burning hatred; we’re shouted at and threatened. I’m glad that there are loads of people standing between us and them outside the door. It’s something that feels a bit like what I imagine the early 1930s were like.”

Wanderwitz added that he thinks it is conceivable that the AfD garner 40 percent in the eastern elections come September. “What democracy here needs is some breathing space,” he said.

Other commentators shoot back that Germany’s democratic culture and the solid arguments of its political parties can beat back a populist party that spins outlandish conspiracy theories, apes Nazi slogans, and wants out of the EU.

“We can’t give the impression that we’re taking the easier route with a ban procedure because we can’t manage it any other way,” retorted Social Democratic lawmaker Sebastian Fiedler, who belongs to the Bundestag’s subcommittee for domestic security. “Well-functioning constitutional states can’t dismiss the way their own populations vote. We have to offer concepts that are convincing: here and now. Of course, the AfD is trying to attack the state from within, but the constitutional state is resilient.”

Fiedler and his parliamentary peers—not all of whom are opposed to putting the AfD on trial—argue that the state has other means at its disposal to mitigate far-right parties. In November,  all of the Bundestag’s democratic parties passed a  law that deprives the AfD from the kind of public funds that other parties use to finance foundations involved in public education work. They also argue there should be more funding for grassroots programs that strengthen civil society and fight fake news in the Internet. Wanderwitz and Fiedler—and just about all of their colleagues—agree that putting the AfD on trial and then losing would be a disaster, as well as a confirmation for the AfD that the mainstream parties are out to get it, based on the party’s specious rationale.

One of the strongest arguments against such bans is that outlawing a party doesn’t annul its supporters—and sometimes even turbocharges them. The Germans need only to look to Greece to see how the prohibition of a far-right party, the Golden Dawn, did nothing to dent the vote tallies of the Greek far right, which reorganized itself under new parties. Golden Dawn itself was disqualified from running in the election this year not because it was an immigrant-bashing, Holocaust-denying scourge, but rather because its leaders had engaged in criminal business activities.

Nevertheless, the party that captured more than 6 percent of the vote in 2015, when economic paralysis gripped the country, was out of the race. Instead, in June, three far-right parties made it into the national legislature, comprising the Spartans, backed by imprisoned Golden Dawn leader Ilias Kasidiaris, the pro-Russian party Greek Solution, and ultra-Christian Orthodox Niki (Victory). They captured 34 seats out of an available 300 and accounted for more than 12 percent of the vote.

It seems that Germany and Greece—in fact, just about all of Europe—will have to dig further down into their respective legal scriptures and political cultures to get at the  toxins that threaten to imperil their democracies.