John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist.
Germans take their holidays seriously. And as is now tradition, before politicians clear out of Berlin for the month of August, an annual survey by Bild, Germany’s biggest tabloid, asks where cabinet members and other prominent figures are headed.
From their usual mix of Mallorca, Tuscany and — for the virtue-signaling — a break in their own constituencies, they have had time to reflect on two anniversaries: Aug. 13, marking the 100th day of Friedrich Merz’s chancellorship; and Aug. 31, a decade since the first wave of refugee arrivals at Munich railway station.
That was the moment then-Chancellor Angela Merkel declared that Germany would “do it.” It was also the moment, many argue, that paved the way for hard-right populism to devour mainstream politics across the Western world. Merkel’s generosity, or so her detractors say, helped lead the way for Brexit, Trump One and, a little closer to home, the far-right Alternative for Germany party (AfD).
Whether this is accurate will be left to historians to judge. Nevertheless, politicians from a variety of countries and parties already seem to have jumped to the conclusion that immigration and popular discontent are inextricably linked — and this is the perception Merz must contend with when the political season resumes.
In large part, the fate of the chancellor, his coalition government and his traditionally conservative Christian Democratic Union party (CDU) all depends on how they counter the AfD challenge.
Opinion polling, which has been consistent — and has a track record of accuracy in Germany — shows the CDU steadily losing ground to the extreme. The party remains ahead, but at around 27 percent, it’s sitting below its general election numbers and only a few points ahead of the AfD. Meanwhile, the coalition’s junior partners, the once-mighty Social Democrats (SPD), remain at a historic low of 15 percent.
The AfD’s aim is clear — to become the largest party in time for the next election in 2029. In order to achieve this, the party needs to split, weaken and possibly even destroy the CDU, and it believes this can be done by forcing Merz into an unpalatable choice: continuing to compromise with the SPD, which would leave him open to accusations of kowtowing to the left; or breaking the so-called firewall, which has so far prevented mainstream parties from cooperating with the AfD.
The devil or the deep blue sea.
And last month, we finally witnessed the opening skirmishes of this battle: Just before parliament went into recess, the AfD created a dangerous split between the CDU and SPD, making the most of its sophisticated online supporters who pump out “news” of dubious veracity.
The issue at stake was Judge Frauke Brosius-Gersdorf’s proposed nomination to the Constitutional Court. With more liberal views on abortion than is currently permitted under Germany’s comparatively restrictive legislation, Brosius-Gersdorf was demonized online, leading some frightened CDU members of the Bundestag to suggest they’d no longer back her. Her nomination was eventually pulled.
But even such local incidents now have far-reaching implications. Before and during his reelection campaign, U.S. President Donald Trump and those around him had made no secret of their admiration for the AfD. Tech billionaire Elon Musk hosted a “fireside chat” with party leader Alice Weidel, where they mused on everything from space to Hitler — describing him as a “communist, socialist guy.” Then, at the Munich Security Conference in February, Vice President JD Vance also made time to see Weidel, while denouncing the German government for a variety of sins.
Today, Musk is no longer in the White House, and some of the administration’s language has tempered. But just as Trump admires Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán and Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, and his aides exhorted Poland’s newly appointed President Karol Nawrocki, so it follows that he’d be delighted if the AfD were to have a role in the government in Berlin — though that won’t happen for some time yet.
Much more immediate, however, are possible moves to have the party banned. Earlier this year, Germany’s domestic intelligence agency formally declared the AfD a right-wing extremist group, saying it was inciting hatred against Muslims and migrants. This classification could now pave the way for the constitutional court to ban the party if asked to do so by the government or parliament. And while many in the SPD — along with the Greens and the Left party — are in favor, Merz has made clear he’d regard such an act as counterproductive.
Moreover, the legal basis for it would be hard to demonstrate. Public opinion is broadly split, with memories of the Weimar Republic sleepwalking toward Nazi victory invoked by one side, and the right to freedom of expression invoked by the other. And even if the ban had a chance of getting through, its consequences would be substantial. As the largest party in several eastern states, the AfD would no doubt point to the “voice of the people” being “extinguished” by the “deep state.”
In short, Trumpism has infiltrated Berlin from within and without. The AfD’s political attack lines resemble that of the MAGA movement — although some of its MPs are now calling on their colleagues to behave more respectfully when parliament returns. And Merz knows Trump would find a way to “punish” him if the AfD was stifled. The U.S. leader has form in issuing threats, whether against Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney for recognizing Palestine or Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez for refusing to agree to new NATO spending targets.
While most MPs have left Berlin, Merz has been largely confined to his desk, in trouble-shooting mode — both at home and abroad. On Ukraine and on Gaza, he and other Europeans are trying desperately to influence Trump. Meanwhile, he needs to keep his coalition afloat, while also minimizing support for the AfD by clamping down on migration and siding with the traditionalists in the “culture wars.”
These are testing times, and he has barely begun.
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