More and more young Germans support the right-wing Alternative for Germany (AfD) party. It capitalizes on their pessimistic outlook and disappointment with other parties, experts say.

When the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party was founded in 2013, it had the reputation of an old man’s club: gray hair, suits, professors, businessmen from the baby boomer generation. It seemed to be composed mostly of men dissatisfied with the fiscal and foreign policies of then-Chancellor Angela Merkel.

Eleven years later, hardly any of that political landscape remains. Merkel is no longer chancellor, and the AfD has changed dramatically. It has become more radical, but it has also become much younger. And this became increasingly clear during the European Parliament election and a trio of state elections that took place in eastern Germany in 2024.

The anti-immigration party campaigned heavily for the votes of young people. For example, in the eastern state of Thuringia, AfD state chairman Björn Höcke organized a motorcycle rally at the end of the election campaign. His supporters rattled through towns and villages on smoky and smelly two-wheelers made by Simson, a motorcycle manufactured in the former East Germany that is now popular among young people. The rally was accompanied by a professionally coordinated campaign on TikTok, Instagram and other social media, and drew the attention of most of the country’s traditional media as well.

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AfD goes all in on social media

The anti-immigration populist party employs numerous PR experts from its right-wing “apron,” as it calls the numerous far-right groups that have gathered around the party. This fuels the mood on social media with emotional and polarizing campaigns.

With provocative messages such as “Germany is going bankrupt,” or proclamations that the government of Chancellor Olaf Scholz “hates you,” they play on fears that many young people have. And then they immediately offer a solution: the AfD.

Clearly, the campaigns have been successful: in the state election in Brandenburg on Sunday, almost one in three young people voted for the AfD. In comparison: three years ago, around 50% of young people voted for the parties of the governing federal coalition of Social Democrats, Greens and Free Democrats (FDP).

“These three parties have failed in the eyes of young people,” explained Klaus Hurrelmann in an interview with Deutschlandfunk radio. One of the most renowned researchers on youth in Germany, he regularly conducts scientific surveys with young people and analyzes their attitudes and views.

“They have not managed to get their own issues across: Climate, education, prosperity, peace,” he said.

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Pessimistic view of the future

According to Hurrelmann, it is critical to the AfD’s success that the current federal government appears incapable of taking action.

“Young people are pragmatic, they want a government that tackles and solves the problems,” he said. “And now there is a party that promises them blue skies and says: ‘Vote for us!’ And that is the AfD.”

Experts believe that disappointment is compounded by fear of the future. This is shown by the latest major survey Hurrelmann presented earlier this year showing that many teenagers and young adults are pessimistic about the future. They are worried about social decline, war, or not being able to find a home. The result is noteworthy because the job prospects for young people in Germany have not been this good in years due to the baby boomers reaching retirement age.

The great urban-rural divide in eastern Germany

But why is the AfD particularly successful in eastern Germany? According to sociologist Steffen Mau from Humboldt University Berlin, it has to do with a pronounced urban-rural divide. In his book “Ungleich vereint” (“Unequally United”), he wrote: “In the east, there is a much bigger gap between young people in the city and their peers in the countryside.” Outside the urban centers, the AfD dominates, according to Mau. “The urban-rural divide could, as it stands, be decisive for the division of society in eastern Germany.”

According to many other experts, it is alarming that the AfD and its supporters are becoming increasingly openly racist and radical in their campaigns.

At the AfD’s election party in Brandenburg, supporters of the party’s youth wing sang loudly and exuberantly to a self-recorded pop song: “We’ll deport them all!” the dancing group bellowed. In a video for the song, the creators use racist clichés of allegedly threatening dark-haired and dark-skinned foreigners who endanger Germany. At the same time, they present themselves as the blonde, radiant and sexy saviors of Germany who deport immigrants by the planeload.

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This kind of hateful content is evidently becoming increasingly popular with young people. “Right-wing extremist, nationalist, and authoritarian positions have increased,” among young people, according to Klaus Hurrelmann.

Nevertheless, when you look at society as a whole, they still form a minority. This was underlined by a study conducted by the University of Leipzig in 2023, which found that only a very small proportion of people in eastern Germany have a consolidated right-wing extremist world view.

All experts agree that TikTok and similar platforms are having a formative influence on young people’s political attitudes and voting behavior because social media is their most important source of information.

What can help? Philipp Sälhoff of the Berlin think tank Polisphere told DW: “Education. Media education and media literacy are a huge issue. It has to be in schools. It has to be in the curriculum.”

This article was originally written in German.

Going to the extreme: Inside Germany’s far right

8 May 2024 Share Save Jessica Parker BBC Berlin correspondent Share Save

BBC

It is a spring evening in Germany’s eastern city of Cottbus, and dozens of people have crowded into a small venue to hear a man who once dubbed himself the “friendly face” of National Socialism (Nazism).

Two other men with prior links to extremist groups are also in the room, including a candidate for forthcoming state elections.

They’re all there to hear Matthias Helferich at a youth event organised by members of the prominent far-right party, Alternative für Deutschland (AfD).

The AfD has repeatedly rejected accusations of extremism.

However, by investigating the past of these three men, the BBC has found a clear crossover between AfD figures and far-right networks, some of which are classed as anti-democratic or racist by German authorities.

Stephan Kramer, a regional spy chief in eastern Germany, has told the BBC the AfD now poses a danger to the “roots” of democracy, as the party eyes electoral gains in three states in the east this autumn: Saxony, Thuringia and Brandenburg.

Maja Hitij/Getty Images The AfD is polling particularly well in the east with messages such as “Mosque? Oh No!”

Ahead of next month’s European elections the AfD, beset by extremism and corruption allegations, has dipped in the polls but still consistently places second nationwide.

It remains strong in Germany’s post-communist communities.

Matthias Helferich’s speech in Cottbus was all about “remigration” – a burgeoning concept within Europe’s far right about mass “returns” or deportations. The BBC asked to attend his talk but was told there wasn’t space.

Elected to Germany’s Bundestag in 2021, he was effectively barred from joining the AfD’s parliamentary faction, after damaging Facebook exchanges came to light dating back to 2016-17.

In leaked remarks Mr Helfrich mentions Nazism several times, including an apparent description of himself as the “friendly face” of National Socialism and as a “democratic Freisler” – a reference to Nazi-era judge, Roland Freisler.

Mr Helferich told the BBC he didn’t seriously call himself the friendly face of Nazism at all but was merely “parodying” left wingers online.

“If you are confronted with Nazi accusations as frequently as AfD politicians, you compensate for that in private spheres. You ridicule it.”

He continues to hold AfD roles at a local level and, as Cottbus shows, is welcomed within some party circles as an unapologetic proponent of “remigration”.

Many view the term as little more than a euphemism for the large-scale expulsion of people with migrant backgrounds, brought about by force or political pressure.

Matthias Helferich is outspoken about his hopes of “remigrating” millions in response to the “mass influx” of migrants from Africa and the Middle East.

But he claims that no-one who’s legally in Germany would be forced to leave – though some could be offered the chance to return to their “home country” and “culture.”

“This is not about downgrading people or deporting them for racist reasons. It is about preserving Germany as the land of the Germans,” he said.

Mr Helferich also spoke at a “summer party” last year hosted by the Institut für Staatspolitik (IfS), which months earlier had been designated as right-wing extremist by the federal domestic intelligence – which said the IfS was striving for an ethnically “homogeneous” nation.

“I don’t share the view of the intelligence service that it is a right-wing extremist organisation,” says Mr Helferich. “I decide for myself where I speak.”

AfD figures accuse domestic intelligence, the Verfassungsschutz, of being a body stuffed with government appointed officials, unfavourable to their cause.

More than “50 young patriots” came to hear the Cottbus speech, says one of its organisers, Jean-Pascal Hohm.

Jean-Pascal Hohm has himself been linked to groups that have since been classed as extremist

Mr Holm has held numerous roles in the AfD and is now running in September’s Brandenburg state elections. That is despite having been involved with – or linked to – a string of groups that went on to be classified as right-wing extremist.

They include the Ein Prozent (One Percent) association, Zukunft Heimat (Future Homeland) and Identitarian movement, which has been known to promote the “Great Replacement” conspiracy theory.

That’s the far-right idea that global elites are deliberately plotting to change the demographics of Western countries.

Mr Hohm is unapologetic in his belief that “population replacement” is going on in Germany and Europe – something he describes as “the main theme of our times”.

“I do not say that this is organised from up high, I say it is happening.”

In 2017, Jean-Pascal Hohm was spotted among the crowd when a group of football fans chanted antisemitic slogans. Some even gave what appeared to be the Hitler salute.

He insists he was “on the fringe” with his father: “This was a Cottbus away game, I am a Cottbuser.”

“It’s not my fault that some lunatics use this as a stage to do things which I expressly do not support,” he tells me.

Pictured smiling in the audience for Matthias Helferich’s talk in March was a man called Benedikt Kaiser, who works in parliament for Jürgen Pohl, an AfD MP in Thuringia.

An investigation by Die Welt newspaper found that Mr Kaiser moved in neo-Nazi circles between 2006-11, including being photographed at marches organised by the NPD – an ultranationalist party now known as Die Heimat (The Homeland).

Johannes Grunert Benedikt Kaiser (front-centre) was photographed here in an ultranationalist march in Zwickau in 2010

A picture from social media, later deleted, also showed him as part of a far-right football hooligan group called the “New Society Boys”, since disbanded.

The name, abbreviated by the group as “NS”, is generally understood in Germany to mean “National Socialist”, or Nazi.

The photo was probably taken in or around 2009 and in it three men behind Benedikt Kaiser appear to be giving the Hitler salute.

Benedikt Kaiser is seen here (circled) as part of a group of far-right football hooligans

Mr Kaiser did not respond to our requests for comment, however after this story was published he accused the BBC of using haphazard research by left-wing activists.

In a post on X he called for a “fundamental political turn… for our people, for our sovereignty – against the woke elites, against the abandonment of our social and cultural heritage”.

Years on, Benedikt Kaiser is now sometimes described as a thinker and theorist, winning lengthy praise from a figurehead of the AfD’s hard-right wing, Björn Höcke.

Mr Höcke is a history teacher turned charismatic leader of the AfD in Thuringia, meaning he’s running to be state governor.

A court has previously ruled it was not defamatory to express the opinion that Mr Höcke was a fascist.

The 52-year-old is currently on trial accused of knowingly using a Nazi slogan, though he has pleaded his innocence.

Jens Schlueter/Getty Images Björn Höcke denies knowingly using a banned Nazi slogan during a speech in 2021

The blurred lines between party figures, within the AfD’s more radical faction, and “extremist” networks makes for a complex web of evolving groups and characters.

And it’s a party that is constantly dealing with divisions about whether to adopt a more moderate or radical message.

“Remigration”, for example, is an idea being embraced by some figures and kept at arm’s length by others.

The concept is championed by Austrian activist Martin Sellner, who has a neo-Nazi past, and has been banned from both Germany and the UK.

He has written about “remigrating” asylum seekers, “foreigners” with residency rights and “non-assimilated” citizens.

Reports that senior AfD figures were involved in a “secret” meeting about remigration with Martin Sellner outside Berlin sparked mass demonstrations in Germany earlier this year.

The AfD is a movement that has, in the past decade, moved “more and more from a conservative, democratic party towards a right-wing extremist party,” believes Stephan Kramer, the President of the Office for the Protection of the Constitution in Thuringia.

An outspoken civil servant, and a member of Chancellor Olaf Scholz’s Social Democratic Party (SPD), Mr Kramer says the AfD’s chances of winning the most seats in his own state this autumn are “very, very good”.

Previously the general secretary of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, he says he would leave the country if the AfD won power.

The party’s “nationalistic” views risk “turning Germany back into something that we’ve probably only seen between 1933 and 1945”, he told the BBC.

AfD figures have argued that they are being targeted by state authorities that are biased against them, but Mr Kramer is adamant that is not the case: “We’re not politicised because we’re working on the basis of German law and any decision that is taken… can be challenged in front of a court.”

A legal challenge by the AfD is ongoing – against its designation as “suspected” right-wing extremist, while its youth wing is classed as a confirmed case.

Stephan Kramer sees the party as the “parliamentarian arm” of the new right that’s building momentum across Europe – and even claims it poses a risk to democracy.

“When I’m speaking about a German oak – [a] big strong old tree, it can take a blizzard, it can take a storm.”

“But once you have an enemy that goes for the roots – and that’s exactly what’s happening right now… it’s very dangerous because it goes to the vital parts of our democracy.”

More broadly, Stephan Kramer fears that the political temperature in Germany is “heating up”.

On Friday, a lead SPD candidate in next month’s European elections, Matthias Ecke, needed surgery after being attacked as he hung up posters in Saxony.

Four teenagers, aged 17-18, are being investigated with police saying there is reason to believe that at least one of the suspects has extreme right-wing views.

AfD supporters we have spoken to insist their movement is not extreme at all and even represents the centre-ground.

This story is not just about three men at a talk in Cottbus, but about a divide in Germany over what counts as extremism and fears of a return to its ugly past.

Olaf Scholz’s lame-duck coalition faces the voters in parliamentary elections next month. It does so after a year in which the far-right AfD made striking electoral gains, most worryingly among the young.

Popular appeal: Björn Höcke, AfD leader in Thuringia (centre), at an election rally, Sonneberg, 11 August 2024 Stringer · Getty

Last year was a good one for the AfD (Alternative für Deutschland). The far-right party, formed in 2013, won 15.9% of the vote in June’s EU election, becoming Germany’s biggest party after the CDU (Christian Democratic Union, 30%). If that seemed impressive, September elections in three eastern states (Länder) sent shockwaves through the traditional parties: the AfD amassed 29.2% in Brandenburg – where the SDP (Social Democratic Party) squeaked in with 30.9% – and 30.6% in Saxony, just behind the CDU (31.9%). And it took first place in Thuringia (32.8%). This means a far-right party now holds the majority in a German state parliament, something not seen since the second world war. Though a united firewall will prevent it from governing there, it will have a blocking minority that local leader Björn Höcke won’t be shy about using.

Even more concerning, the AfD scored higher with 18-24-year-olds than among the general population in the 2024 local elections (31% in both Saxony and Brandenburg, 38% in Thuringia), which is particularly striking given its radical calls for largescale ‘remigration’ (removal of immigrants). In June’s European election, 16% of Germans aged 16-24 chose the AfD, just behind the CDU on 17%. The Greens plummeted to 11% – a far cry from their 33% in 2019, at the height of the Fridays for Future climate movement – paying the price for their failures and broken promises as part of the Olaf Scholz coalition.

Why do East German youth no longer vote red or green, but blue? First, the AfD has an effective youth organisation, Junge Alternative für Deutschland (JA), geared to 14-35-year-olds. Legal independence from its parent has allowed the group to adopt more extreme positions and rhetoric: in 2023 the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution classified it a ‘certified rightwing extremist endeavour’. Wanting to reassure voters before the 23 February snap parliamentary election, the AfD has cut ties with the JA and announced plans for a new youth organisation.

Despite charges of incitement to racism and of insulting and attacking immigrants (as in the Chemnitz riots of August 2018), the JA’s following is growing ever younger: its target membership has shifted from 17-18 to 14-15. In mock elections at middle and high schools in small eastern towns like Plauen, Döbeln and Wurzen, the AfD got more than half the vote (1).

Rebel against the established order

At an age when there’s an urge to rebel against the established order, the JA has a seductive pull. In small and middle-sized cities, it holds public meetings for adolescents with AfD leaders, free concerts featuring local bands, themed parties and even (for the oldest) motorcycle outings with the charismatic AfD Thuringia leader Björn Höcke, who has a cult following among the young.

For three decades, population has declined in the East, and the far right’s centrality there has grown with the closure of organisations, cultural and social spaces, and youth centres that offered an alternative to the AfD. Facing little competition, the JA, AfD and many far-right and neo-Nazi movements (The Republicans, Pegida, Pro Chemnitz, The Homeland, The Third Way, The Right, the Freie Kameradschaften, Free Saxony) have become political influences on young people. Their indoctrination comes with hearty camaraderie, an obsession with outward appearance and being tough (notably through group practice of martial arts) and a cult of personality around their leaders. Close ties between AfD and JA chapters makes their outreach even more effective.

The pride of belonging to a group united in opposition to immigrants is manifested in team spirit, nationalist songs and racist slogans

Social media further strengthens their real-world appeal; the far right was an early and enthusiastic adopter of the platforms favoured by the young, particularly TikTok, but also Instagram, Snapchat, WhatsApp and YouTube. The JA’s skilful exploitation of the TikTok algorithm has ensured it the maximum degree of virality, irrespective of the truth of its message. The most divisive issues – especially immigration – often attract the most clicks. ‘The AfD was quick to flood the platform [TikTok],’ admits Andreas Stoch, SPD leader in Baden-Württemberg, ‘leaving the other political parties playing catch-up.’

The strategy has raised the AfD’s profile while bringing it in from the cold: isolated as it might be within institutional politics, its youth aren’t buying the story that it’s extremist and marginal. Joining has become a badge of honour.

Teenagers and young adults don’t necessarily care about its policies. Many just want to be part of something that has its own style, fashion, language, humour, not to mention charismatic leaders, self-assured girls with blonde hair and blue eyes and boys with buzz cuts. ‘Today it’s cool, or totally normal, to hang far-right slogans in your garage or bedroom,’ says Ocean Hale Meissner, a young anti-AfD activist from the small city of Döbeln in Saxony (2).

Hard to openly oppose the AfD

In some East German towns, it’s now difficult or even dangerous to openly oppose the AfD, especially as an antifascist or someone who is gay, lesbian or trans or has an immigrant background. Intimidation and verbal or even physical threats are common and can quickly escalate into fighting. Numbers published by the Federal Criminal Police Office (BKA) show that violence against asylum seekers increased by 15% in 2023, while attacks on their housing increased by 50% (3).

Some young people are attracted to the AfD’s ambiguous relationship with antisemitism (and with Germany’s not-so-distant past). Like the JA, the party weaves unconditional support for Israel with antisemitic dog-whistles, promoting conspiracy theories about George Soros and questioning the former West Germany’s institution of memory work around the trauma of the second world war.

In the eastern Länder, where the sense of belonging to a community and being part of history evaporated in 1990 along with East Germany itself, people feel little connection to grand narratives – neither that of remembering (which allowed West Germans to grasp the exceptional scale of Nazi crimes) nor that of the European project (which mostly ignored East Germans).

Enter the far right, whose counter-narrative offers the complete opposite of conformist pressure from politicians and the media to be good German citizens. Their only point of agreement is Israel, which both fends off accusations of antisemitism and legitimises the anti-Islam worldview that the AfD shares with Netanyahu.

The young people who turn to groups like the AfD and JA have rejected the once apologetic attitude to their country’s history. The Nazis’ genocide of the Jews is no longer a taboo subject nor a fundamental moral boundary (embodied in the maxim ‘Never again’ that caught on after 1945). They refuse the moral burden that weighs down history’s losers, instead embracing the outlook of Höcke, their revisionist leader, who called Berlin’s Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe a ‘monument of shame’.

‘No yallah yallah here’

In regions where the past is synonymous with shame – of Nazism, one-party rule and the downward mobility of the 1990s – the far right preaches the pride of belonging to a group united in opposition to immigrants. This is manifested in team spirit, nationalist songs and racist slogans (actively amplified online) – and, of course, merchandise: the Patria web store hawks T-shirts, ‘Remigration’ stickers, Björn Höcke caps, ‘pride-fresh’ deodorant, flags and other nationalist items.

There are also children’s books like Paul Pina’s The Little Fish Swims Against the Tide (Zahnlückentexte, 2023) and openly racist classics like Jean Raspail’s The Camp of the Saints (Scribner, 1975). The ‘Wilhelm Kachel’ social media accounts on Instagram, X and TikTok, still more extreme, post shocking AI-generated images, videos and slogans targeting youth (such as ‘No yallah yallah, the language here is German’).

Current explanations for the rise of the right – increasing xenophobia in the East after Germany welcomed a million Syrian refugees in 2015, weakened social cohesion after a massive influx of Ukrainian refugees in 2022, and finally the ongoing war in the Middle East and concomitant spike in antisemitism and Islamophobia – align with deeper historical, psychological and social factors.

In response to the myth of a reunified country at peace with itself, AfD followers flaunt their Ost-Identität (East German identity), conservative and nationalistic. The young people who vote for the party or embrace its message are often recruited from among the children or grandchildren of ‘Ossis’ who were disillusioned in the aftermath of 1989-90. Those who didn’t leave endured the devastating 1990s: the elimination of institutions that shaped social life, deindustrialisation that brought mass unemployment, and a rapidly ageing population as hundreds of thousands of qualified young people (especially women) went west in search of a better future and small towns were left to die. While the West Germans assumed the fall of the Berlin Wall was a godsend for the ‘new Länder’, rates of divorce, depression and suicide soared there in the years that followed.

In an anti-establishment atmosphere, never having governed is a selling point for the far right: over three decades, the region was successively let down by the right (CDU), the social democrats (SPD) and the left (PDS, later part of Die Linke). There was an increased sense of betrayal and economic abandonment, a rejection of politics and, for some youth, an embrace of neo-Nazi nihilism (expressed in the racist riots of Hoyerswerda and Rostock in 1991-92).

Of course, many Ossis did manage to rebound from that period and create fulfilling lives. Those who grew up in families that were struggling now enjoy a much higher standard of living. Yet in 2024 some 54% of East Germans still felt like second-class citizens, according to official figures. Did their parents pass on their resentment to the next generation, as philosopher Cynthia Fleury has suggested (4)? Whatever its cause, youth radicalisation is also affecting the western part of the country (though to a lesser degree) and all of Germany’s neighbours as far-right movements collaborate, influence each other and coalesce.

The picture isn’t entirely bleak. Less than a third of voters aged 16-35 chose the AfD, and many are actively working to combat it. And every nationalist demonstration is met with a counter protest. But as the snap parliamentary election approaches, the traditional parties have yet to find a viable antidote.

Several lawmakers from across the political spectrum have been working to get enough support for a ban of the AfD party. The domestic intelligence agency’s move to classify the AfD as extremist may add new momentum.

The announcement on Friday, May 2, by the Bundesverfassungsschutz (BfV), Germany’s domestic intelligence agency, means that the entire Alternative for Germany (AfD) party is considered anti-constitutional. Previously, only the regional branches in the eastern states of Thuringia, Saxony and Saxony-Anhalt and the AfD youth organization had been assessed accordingly by authorities.

The intelligence service classifies a party as “confirmed right-wing extremist,” when it deems it to be

– “opposed to the free democratic basic order,” i.e. opposed to central principles such as human dignity, the rule of law, equality before the law and democracy

– acting in a nationalist, racist or xenophobic manner or showing blanket rejection of ethnic or cultural minorities. According to the BfV, the AfD does not consider Germans “with a history of immigration from Muslim countries” to be equal members of German society. Politicians from the party had also been found to “continuously” agitate against refugees and immigrants, the BfV stated.

– advocating for or at least supporting violence as a means of achieving political goals

– representing antisemitic, revisionist or anti-democratic ideologies

What happens now?

The classification as “confirmed right-wing extremist” has various consequences: It is now possible to observe AfD meetings, tap telephones and recruit informants; the findings could directly impact elected officials who may lose their jobs; state party funding can be withdrawn.

The party intends to challenge the classification in the courts.

The decision may give new impetus to efforts to get the party banned.

Many parliamentarians have long maintained that a classification as “confirmed right-wing extremist” was an important prerequisite for considering such a step.

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How to ban a party?

Article 21 of the German constitution, the Basic Law, states: “Parties that, by reason of their aims or the behavior of their adherents, seek to undermine or abolish the free democratic basic order or to endanger the existence of the Federal Republic of Germany shall be unconstitutional.”

It’s up to the Federal Constitutional Court to decide whether a political party can be banned. The federal government, the Bundestag, and the chamber of the 16 federal states, the Bundesrat, are entitled to file a petition.

If a ban were initiated, a lengthy judicial process would begin. The outcome is uncertain.

Meanwhile, the AfD, which is currently the strongest political party in opinion polls at around 26%, is crying foul, claiming that their political opponents are instrumentalizing the judiciary against them as they are failing through democratic means.

The pros and cons of trying to ban the AfD

Outgoing Chancellor Olaf Scholz was one of the first on Friday to urge restraint and spoke out against any rushed move to ban the AfD.

Stefan Seidler, the lone member of the South Schleswig Voters’ Association (SSW) party in the Bundestag, which represents the country’s Danish minority, has been a staunch supporter of a ban. He told DW in 2024: “You can recognize an enemy of democracy by the way they deal with minorities. Cracks in the democratic foundations of our society become evident for minorities early on. Our democracy needs to be well fortified. As democrats, we are obliged to use all the tools we have available. This includes the inspection in Karlsruhe [the seat of the Federal Constitutional Court].”

Political analysts hold differing views on how likely the attempt to ban the AfD is to succeed. Hendrik Cremer of the German Institute for Human Rights in Berlin believes a ban is urgently needed and could be successful. “If you look at the AfD closely, I think you have to come to the conclusion that the conditions for a ban are met,” he told DW in May, adding that he finds it difficult to understand why some still express any doubts.

Azim Semizoglu, a constitutional law expert at the University of Leipzig, is more skeptical. In his view, the classification of the AfD as “definitely right-wing extremist” by Germany’s domestic intelligence service, the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV), does not automatically guarantee a successful ban, he previously told DW.

That is only one piece of evidence among many, Semizoglu argued. “You can’t conclude from it that if a party is classified as a definitely right-wing extremist, it is also unconstitutional in the sense of the Basic Law,” he said.

Renowned legal scholar Ulrich Battis told DW: “The ban is clearly defined: Article 21 of the Basic Law [Germany’s constitution] provides the possibility for this from the outset. It must concern an active campaign against the free democratic order. The party’s aim must be to overcome the political system.”

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The failed attempt to ban the NPD

To weigh the pros and cons of banning the AfD, it is worth looking at the failed attempt to ban the far-right National Democratic Party of Germany NPD. In the 2017 verdict on that case, the constitutional court ruled that the former NPD was indeed unconstitutional, but also politically insignificant. “In the more than five decades of its existence, the NPD has not managed to be permanently represented in a state parliament,” it said.

In addition, the other parties in the federal and state parliaments had been unwilling to form coalitions or even to cooperate with the NPD on specific issues, the court stated at the time. That last point also applies in the case of the AfD, at least so far. However, the first argument does not. The AfD is an influential force, even without being part of any government.

The successful move to ban the KPD

However, there is precedent for Germany banning a political party during the post-war era. The German communist party (KPD) was banned in 1956 although it had won representation in the West German Bundestag. It was the second party ban in the history of the Federal Republic of Germany after the openly neo-Nazi Socialist Reich Party (SRP) was banned in 1952. It led to the forced dissolution of the first German Communist Party (KPD), the withdrawal of its political mandates, the ban on the founding of substitute organizations and legal proceedings against thousands of members.

This article was originally written in German. It was first published in October 2024 and updated to reflect news developments on May 2, 2025.

While you’re here: Every Tuesday, DW editors round up what is happening in German politics and society. You can sign up here for the weekly email newsletter Berlin Briefing.

Learning a third language such as German, Japanese or Mandarin seems to have gone out of fashion. Some students are turning to non-traditional alternatives such as Arabic, computer programming or coding, to succeed.

As a teenager, Young-chae Song studied German at his South Korean high school and had to pass an exam in the language to enter university.

During that time, in the early 1980s, most high school students in South Korea would study English, plus another foreign language, typically German, French or Japanese. But today, young Koreans are turning their backs on learning a third language.

“English was compulsory in high school, both then and now, but in the 1980s virtually everyone chose to do another language because we sensed that there were going to be more opportunities in foreign countries in the future. Everyone wanted to be able to communicate, for business or travel, or just to speak with people from other places,” said Song, a professor at the Center for Global Creation and Collaboration at Seoul’s Sangmyung University.

Song says South Koreans’ interest in German and French is rooted in the complex geopolitical situation in north-east Asia immediately after World War II.

The fledgling Korean state initially had no diplomatic relations with its former colonial ruler Japan, and neighboring China was in a similarly chaotic state with the civil war between communists and nationalist forces.

The situation was further complicated just five years later, he said, with the outbreak of the Korean War.

German sees brief popularity

Germany provided economic assistance in the decades immediately after the war and well into the 1970s, Song told DW.

“There was a sense of gratitude towards Germany and an interest in the country … Very soon, German companies began to enter Korea and quickly earned a reputation as being good and stable places to work,” he said.

“Many people wanted to learn German and to go and study in Germany, with engineering and manufacturing seen as good courses for a future career,” he added.

There were 1,200 teachers of German in Seoul as recent as 1999, according to figures from the city’s education authorities. That figure dropped to 23 in 2000. Today, not a single public high school in the capital employs a full-time German teacher.

Rise and fall of Japanese and Mandarin

By the 1980s, South Korea’s relations with neighboring Japan was restored. As Japan’s economy boomed and its “soft power” spread globally, there was a shift towards learning Japanese in schools.

But frictions with Japan nevertheless remained, such as differing interpretations of the two nations’ shared history, primarily imperial Japan’s 35-year occupation of the Korean peninsula, which was often repressive and violent.

In the subsequent decade, China began to emerge as an economic colossus and it became easier for Koreans to visit and do business in China, Song said. In addition, students were “swayed by the trends of the times.”

Chinese and Japanese remain on the curriculums at most schools in Seoul – nearly 81% teach Japanese and 77% offer Chinese.

More recently, however, even the languages of Korea’s immediate neighbors have become less popular, Song said. Mandarin has faded because its tones are complicated and difficult to learn.

Emergence of ‘niche’ languages

According to Song, aspiring students are turning to “niche” languages such as Arabic to improve their chances of securing a place at top tier universities in the country.

“My son started studying Arabic when he was in his early teens because he wanted to go to Seoul National University (SNU),” said Song, referring to one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities.

“To get a place at SNU, students have to take a test in a second foreign language, so after English, he chose Arabic,” Song explained.

“Arabic is not an easy language to learn, but because relatively few people study it and the marking of the exam is done as relative to the other people taking the exam, it is quite easy to get a high score,” he said.

The tactic paid off and Song’s son is presently in his first year at the university.

Computer learning an appealing alternative

David Tizzard, an assistant professor of education at Seoul Women’s University, said the highly competitive nature of education in South Korea “forces students into their language study choices.”

In Korea, the priority is getting a good score in exams, he said. “It all boils down to test scores.”

“They are also discovering that as virtually all high school graduates speak at least some English, they can get by in international business as English has effectively become the world’s shared language for doing business,” he said.

Another factor that has impinged heavily on the learning of foreign languages has been the explosive growth in the use of technology as a form of communication, with millions of young Koreans opting to study computer programming, coding, editing and software development “as an extension of their all-important social media selves,” Tizzard said.