In April 1997, then-German President Roman Herzog declared that his country was in need of a Ruck—a jolt. He meant that Germany had to undertake deep reforms to break out of national lethargy and face the challenges of the twenty-first century. Many of the issues he identified remain unresolved today, including economic deregulation, labor-market flexibility, and digitalization. Yet a very different kind of jolt may now be approaching, one likely to send shock waves through Germany and beyond.
On September 6, elections will take place in the small central German state of Sachsen-Anhalt, part of the former East Germany. The right-wing Alternative for Germany (AfD) is poised to win. Currently polling above 40 percent, it could conceivably secure an absolute majority in the state legislature in Magdeburg. Germany’s system of proportional representation includes a 5 percent threshold that keeps low-scoring parties out of parliament. If several smaller parties fail to cross that threshold, an AfD vote share well below 50 percent could therefore translate into a majority of seats.
The AfD began in 2013 as a predominantly economically liberal and Euroskeptic party, critical especially of European Union monetary policy. It was quickly transformed, however, as national-conservative and populist forces gained the upper hand. Opposition to Germany’s liberal immigration policies became one of its signature issues. For several years, the party flourished primarily in the states of the former East Germany, where it assumed some of the characteristics of a regional protest party. It has since gained substantial support in western Germany as well, but nowhere is its ascent currently as dramatic as in Sachsen-Anhalt.
AfD policy positions combine recognizable conservative themes with positions particular to German politics. The party promises tougher policies on crime and the deportation of migrants without a legal right to remain. It also proposes withdrawing Sachsen-Anhalt from the national public-broadcasting compact and ending some forms of state financial support for the churches. In foreign policy, the AfD frequently invokes a “Germany First” approach, but the party has also displayed a pronounced tilt toward Russia and strong opposition to financial and military support for Ukraine. That orientation is particularly pronounced in the East, although as the party expands nationally, more Atlanticist voices have begun to emerge within it.
Most of the German political establishment does not regard the AfD as simply another conservative party. Instead, it treats it as a right-wing extremist threat to the constitutional order. Chancellor Friedrich Merz has defended this position by explicitly referencing the lessons of Germany’s descent into National Socialism, warning against the historical illusion that mainstream conservatives can cooperate with an extremist party and keep it under control. The other major parties therefore maintain a policy of a Brandmauer, or “firewall,” against cooperation with the AfD.
The consequences have become increasingly awkward. The center-right Christian Democratic Union (CDU), despite sharing some positions with the AfD, refuses to cooperate in a coalition with it and must therefore look leftward for governing partners. The resulting coalitions can be cumbersome and politically incoherent. Their difficulty in producing decisive policy change—the sort of change Ruck Herzog once demanded—has, in turn, contributed to the AfD’s appeal. The firewall was intended to isolate the party. Instead, the AfD has continued to grow.
As the party’s electoral strength increases, Germany is now confronting difficult questions about where legitimate democratic defense ends and political exclusion begins. In neighboring Lower Saxony, several AfD candidates in local elections have been denied ballot access after electoral authorities raised doubts about their commitment to the constitutional order. Some of those decisions are being challenged in court. Meanwhile, a separate debate has developed over Germany’s traditional 5 percent parliamentary threshold, with proponents of reform suggesting that it be lowered to 3 percent. In Sachsen-Anhalt, where several smaller parties are hovering near the threshold, even seemingly technical electoral rules could have substantial consequences for the composition of the next parliament.
There is another complication. Smaller parties that enter the Landtag might themselves prove less committed to the firewall than the established parties are. An AfD victory could therefore produce not only a radically altered parliament but also new experiments with minority governments, shifting parliamentary majorities, or eventually coalition arrangements previously regarded as politically impossible.
The German drama matters to the United States for at least two reasons. First, both Vice President J. D. Vance and Elon Musk have publicly expressed sympathy for the AfD or criticized efforts to exclude it from German political life. If the AfD enters government and performs poorly—or proves as radical in office as its opponents predict—its American supporters may face uncomfortable questions. If it governs successfully, Vance, in particular, could claim that his criticism of Germany’s political establishment was prescient.
The second and more consequential issue concerns Russia. AfD national leader Alice Weidel has called for restoring German-Russian economic relations, including renewed imports of Russian oil and gas, arguing that inexpensive Russian energy is essential to German industrial competitiveness. The party’s hostility to continued German support for Ukraine would also challenge one of Chancellor Merz’s central foreign policy commitments.
Moscow plainly has an interest in this political realignment. Russian influence operations and disinformation campaigns have repeatedly sought to exploit political divisions within Germany, and an AfD breakthrough would provide an obvious opportunity to deepen those divisions.
These influence operations are taking place against a broader background of Russian hybrid activity directed toward NATO countries. Russian aircraft and drones have repeatedly tested the alliance’s eastern flank, including through recent airspace violations in Poland and Romania. Germany itself is increasingly concerned about drone activity around military and critical-infrastructure sites. An explosive-laden drone was discovered near Leipzig/Halle Airport, an important logistics hub, while drones have also been observed above German military facilities. German authorities have not definitively attributed all such incidents to Russia, but they have intensified concern about the vulnerability of German infrastructure to hybrid attacks.
The Sachsen-Anhalt election should therefore not be regarded simply as an unusual episode in German regional politics. An AfD breakthrough would test the sustainability of Germany’s political firewall, the cohesion of Chancellor Merz’s governing strategy, and Germany’s commitment to Ukraine. It would also present Moscow with an opportunity to exploit political divisions inside one of NATO’s most important European members.
Roman Herzog wanted a jolt that would enable Germany to reform itself. The jolt that may arrive on September 6 could instead test the resilience of the German political system—and, indirectly, the security architecture of Europe.
About the Author: Dr. Russell A. Berman
Russell A. Berman is a Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution and a former Senior Advisor on the Policy Planning Staff of the U.S. Department of State.
