John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His new book, “Braver New World: The Countries Daring to Do Things Others Won’t,” was published in April. He is a regular POLITICO columnist.
Picking up a recent issue of German weekly Der Spiegel, the cover seemed to scream. “Germany’s Most Dangerous Man,” it shouted, the bold words emblazoned below a photo of the far-right Alternative for Germany party’s (AfD) Ulrich Siegmund.
The intention was clear: A warning for both Germans and the world regarding the consequences of a far-right victory in the small eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt, as Siegmund seems poised to become his party’s first regional leader after the upcoming election there.
The strategy clearly backfired. Siegmund’s allies bought up as many copies of the magazine as they could, so he could sign them in front of adoring crowds. But the underlying sentiment was not wrong — what happens in Saxony-Anhalt on Sept. 6 will affect all of Germany, Europe and the wider world.
Polling at 42 percent in Saxony-Anhalt, that the AfD will emerge as the strongest force in this regional election is now beyond doubt — that’s around double the support for Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s Christian Democratic Union (CDU). The Left party, another insurgent group, comes in third in the polling, while Merz’s coalition partners, the Social Democrats (SPD), barely sit above the 5-percent threshold originally intended to keep out extremists, and the Greens are hovering perilously around that limit.
The arithmetic is convoluted but crucial. If the SPD and the Greens make the cut, the various mainstream parties could cobble together enough seats to run the state. But if they don’t, the AfD will be able to govern either on its own or possibly with the support of the far-left social conservative grouping Alliance Sahra Wagenknecht, which is also hovering right below the 5-percent threshold.
The latter outcome would precipitate a political crisis across Germany not seen in decades.
But it doesn’t end there. Two weeks after Saxony-Anhalt, voters will head to the polls in the eastern state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, and in the once reliably leftist city-region of Berlin, which is showing strong AfD support as well.
This means that in the coming weeks or months, Germany could be faced with a collapsing government and even an ousted or replaced Merz — a move with little precedent in recent German history. And stuck with its stuttering economy, the country that prizes stability above all else is preparing to panic.
Two world leaders are watching all this with anticipation: Russian President Vladimir Putin and U.S. President Donald Trump.
Relations between Germany and Russia have sharply deteriorated since 2022’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, and the latest discovery of a drone carrying explosives at Leipzig airport has sharply increased the hostility. But despite the consensus at the top of government that the Kremlin is carrying out a wider campaign of hybrid warfare across Europe — and four decades spent under Moscow’s yoke — many voters in the former German Democratic Republic retain strong affection for the country.
The AfD is pushing that agenda hard. Although foreign policy falls under the federal government’s jurisdiction, Siegmund has been calling for an end to sanctions against Russia. He also intends to bring back Russian language classes in schools and wants Russian students to return to Germany as part of exchange programs. As for Ukrainians, he wants them designated as illegal migrants rather than refugees from war.
Meanwhile, Trump, who has denounced Western Europe as socially reprobate, has made no secret of backing what his National Security Strategy calls “patriotic forces.” Quick to support European parties mirroring his own MAGA movement, his administration has been cultivating relationships and contacts with the AfD.
Both these leaders have a vested interest in the party’s success. They view the AfD — and Europe’s other ultra-conservative groupings — as a bridgehead. And Siegmund fits into that perfectly.
One of his party’s rising stars, the 35-year-old former salesman has a carefully curated image — riding East German-made Simson motorbikes to appeal to the young, while promising elderly voters to bring their “good, old, secure Germany back” — and the highest number of TikTok followers of any German politician.
His party’s 150-page program for governing Saxony-Anhalt does not lack in ambition either.
In it, Siegmund calls for Trump-style mass deportations of asylum-seekers — even though Saxony-Anhalt is one of the most ethnically homogeneous parts of the country, with only 1-in-13 citizens of migratory background.
He promises to defund public broadcasters deemed hostile and unpatriotic, ban all symbols of “woke” culture — including pride flags — in schools and, as part of his fight against “the extinction of the German people,” offer tax breaks for families consisting of “a father, a mother and as many children as possible.”
In an echo of the 1930s, the program even slams the Bauhaus art movement, which has strong roots in the region, as part of broader plans to promote “German art.”
These are all agenda items Germany’s federal states have jurisdiction over within their specific regions — education, culture, certain aspects of policing and criminal justice.
But to solely focus on these formal powers would be to miss the point. As in so many other countries, the far-right’s allure in Germany is growing, poisoning and often paralyzing the country’s mainstream parties and politics.
Postwar Germany faced — and surmounted — a series of difficult challenges during the Cold War and the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Its constitution is rigorous, and its commitment to democratic values (not least its unstinting support for Ukraine) is impressive. But it would not be an exaggeration to say, as I sign off my last monthly column for POLITICO, that the country is about to enter one of its most dangerous moments yet.
