Democracy is often described as a risk worth taking – a system that trusts voters even when the outcome is uncertain. But democracy is not a game of chance. Democracies only work when they are built on rules, norms and red lines that protect the system from those who seek to hollow it out from within.
In Germany, one of those red lines is the “Brandmauer”: the collective refusal of democratic parties to cooperate with the extreme right. As the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), Germany’s far right wing party, grows stronger, critics increasingly question the practicability of this firewall. Since the 2025 federal election, AfD has become the second-strongest party nationwide, and in some polls it is now on par with the conservative Christian Democratic Union (CDU). But the party has so far never been part of any state or federal government. For how long can centrist parties continue to deny one of the most powerful rising forces in German politics?
I disagree with the logic that the Brandmauer is unworkable—it is too important not to uphold. At a moment of rising extremism, defending the Brandmauer is not an act of political convenience – it is a democratic obligation.
What is the Brandmauer?
In detail, the principle of the “Brandmauer” consists of two things in practice: (1) Germany’s democratic parties do not cooperate with the AfD in forming a governing coalition and (2) they do not rely on AfD support to pass legislation or elect candidates to positions within parliament. However, the second principle has at times been breached.
The AfD was founded in 2013 as a Eurosceptic party, primarily opposing European Union fiscal policies and perceived interference in national sovereignty. However, after internal power struggles, the party underwent a radical transformation. By the mid-2010s, it had become a radical right party. It entered the German Parliament for the first time in 2017.
Like many radical right parties across Europe, the AfD’s political success is closely tied to its fierce opposition to immigration. The high influx of refugees following the Syrian Civil War in 2014-15 and opposition to then-Chancellor Angela Merkel’s relatively open migration policy became central mobilizing issues for the party. Over time, parts of the party even began openly advocating for so-called “remigration” – a concept that goes far beyond deporting undocumented migrants and instead implies the mass removal of non-white minorities, including German citizens, based on racial ancestry.
Another important plank of the AfD’s platform is its emphasis on national sovereignty and its resistance to what it portrays as excessive EU influence. Yet, the AfD has close links to both Russia and China and repeated scandals involving AfD politicians and staff members accused of leaking information to actors connected to those states. Maybe this is patriotism for the AfD, but love for one’s home country looks very different to me. Now more than ever, as the world is once again coalescing into competing power blocs, Germany needs the geopolitical weight that the EU – as the world’s largest trading bloc – can provide. That leverage may be limited, but it still matters in international negotiations. And the AfD does not recognize that.
The AfD also presents itself as a defender of Germany’s economic competitiveness. Germany benefits disproportionately from having access to the Schengen Area, which enables trading across European borders without border control and European citizens being able to work everywhere inside the EU without a visa. However, this doesn’t match their anti-EU stance I mentioned earlier.
Still, with that, they are able to capture the anxieties that the established parties failed to address in the past. In Germany, much as in the United States, many people fear industrial decline, shrinking purchasing power, the impact of AI on their working lives, and wars erupting across the globe. They are also frustrated with a government that often appears detached from the everyday concerns of ordinary citizens.
Why we must uphold the Brandmauer
The policies of the AfD would be terribly destructive for Germany. What people sometimes forget is that the AfD and their party leader have been exposed with incompetence multiple times and lack the knowledge and political experience to be able to lead ministries or governments effectively. That’s something which the Brandmauer has been effective in achieving—it has prevented the AfD from gaining allies and experience in legislative work.
The AfD has been able to tap into anxieties that the established parties have often failed to address. In Germany, much as in the United States, many people fear industrial decline, shrinking purchasing power, the impact of AI on their working lives, and wars erupting across the globe. They are also frustrated with a government that often appears detached from the everyday concerns of ordinary citizens. But what may seem like a harmless protest vote at first glance can have serious consequences for Germany.
Much of the AfD ‘s political work is amateurish and media-driven. “Telemetric data collection from vehicles by the EU and its future use – technical possibilities for or against civil liberties?”, for example, is a proposal by the AfD that, with its dramatic contrast between technology and civil liberties reads more like a talk show teaser, than an objective state parliament motion.
From my own experience working in the European Parliament, I have seen AfD representatives repeatedly fail to engage in serious legislative work. They often skipped committee meetings, avoided policy negotiations and instead focused on attacking outcomes on social media after decisions had already been made. If this is their approach to parliamentary responsibility, what would their approach to governing look like? Some argue that allowing it to govern would expose its incompetence and disillusion its voters. But this argument ignores how the AfD actually operates in parliamentary practice.
Alongside this unseriousness about real policy challenges, what the AfD is serious about it is frequently politically dangerous and disturbing. Prominent AfD politicians habitually use language that echoes Germany’s darkest past. Björn Höcke, state party chairman of the AfD in Thuringia and history teacher, for example, condemned the Holocaust memorial in Berlin by saying that Germans were the “only people in the world who planted a memorial of shame in the heart of their capital.”
One immediate consequence of the AfD’s rhetoric is the damage it inflicts on Germany’s international reputation. Germany depends heavily on foreign workers to sustain its economic growth and innovation capacity. A political climate that signals hostility or ethnic nationalism directly undermines Germany’s attractiveness as a place to live and work.
At the same time, many people already living in Germany – especially those with migration backgrounds – no longer feel safe or welcome the more the AfD is mainstreamed. A particularly alarming example of this is when the AfD branch in Karlsruhe distributed flyers specifically to mailboxes with foreign-sounding names. Such actions send a clear message of division and exclusion and erode trust in democratic institutions.
The Brandmauer has its own consequences. Because the Brandmauer serves as a bulwark against the far-right, it essentially has pushed parliamentary coalition-building to the left, as forming majorities now more often requires cooperation with left-leaning parties. This has contributed to the perception among some voters that German politics is shifting “too far left,” fueling further discontent.
In some cases, legislation has failed because the votes required would have included those of the radical right. This dynamic illustrates the dilemma: the AfD is democratically elected, yet its participation in governance is deliberately excluded to protect democratic norms.
The risks of allowing the AfD to enter the mainstream are enormous. Economic uncertainty would increase immediately, as businesses and investors would question Germany’s future direction. Education, research and innovation would suffer. Most importantly, social cohesion – already under strain – would deteriorate further, deepening the political polarization already rising dramatically in countries like the United States.
In my own constituency, one of the AfD’s strongholds, their representatives actively stir resentment and hostility online. Even nearly a year after my election, they continue to target me personally with hostile and misleading posts. I take it as a compliment – but it also illustrates how AfD’s political strategy relies on generating conflict rather than solutions.
A further danger is what Germany would lose during four years of AfD governance. The world is moving fast. Germany cannot afford to miss out on decisive action in artificial intelligence, climate policy and digitalization – areas where both Germany and the EU are already lagging behind.
Finally, it cannot be ignored that history offers a sobering warning. In 1933, some believed that Adolf Hitler and his party could be “contained” within a governing coalition. They were catastrophically wrong. Within a short time, democratic institutions were dismantled and Germany descended into a brutal dictatorship that ultimately led to the deaths of around 55 million people worldwide. Ignoring the lessons of this history is part of the AfD’s platform.
Most importantly, simply letting the AfD govern would not address the deeper problem: the erosion of anti-prejudice norms in German society. In the early 2000s, Germany had some of the strongest social norms against racism and radical right politics in Europe. Voting for such parties was widely stigmatized. Today, that social desirability bias has largely disappeared.
The rise of the AfD raises a provocative question: can the AfD simply be ignored in the future? Some argue that allowing it to govern would expose its incompetence and disillusion its voters. But this argument ignores how the AfD actually operates in parliamentary practice. If the AfD were to govern badly and lose support, it would not eliminate prejudice. Instead, another radical right party would emerge, promising to “do it better”. The cycle would continue.
The solution, therefore, is not as simple as abandoning the Brandmauer. Instead, it lies in actively rebuilding democratic, anti-prejudice norms – through credible policies, social cohesion, and a politics that addresses real concerns without scapegoating. The Brandmauer is not a denial of democracy; it is a safeguard for it. And in the face of rising extremism, safeguarding democracy must remain our highest priority.
by Anna Ortwein
