As AfD Approaches Government, Europe Faces a Legitimacy Crisis

As Brussels moves against the AfD, the deeper question is no longer whether the AfD is popular. Millions of Germans have already answered that. The question is what happens when a movement once dismissed as a protest party begins approaching real power.

The Alternative for Germany party is no longer a political curiosity. It is now Germany’s second-largest political force, and in Saxony-Anhalt it is approaching something the Berlin establishment once treated as impossible: executive power.

In Berlin, the AfD remains a political outcast. No major party wants to govern with it. Security agencies monitor parts of it. Much of the German media treats it not as a normal opposition party, but as a threat to the constitutional order.

Yet several hundred kilometres to the east, in Saxony-Anhalt, a different political reality is taking shape.

There, the AfD is not merely disrupting politics from the outside. It is campaigning as a possible government. Polls ahead of the September state election suggest the party could emerge as the dominant force in the regional parliament. Some polling scenarios have even raised the possibility that it could govern alone.

That would mark a rupture in postwar German politics. For most of its existence, the AfD could be contained as a protest vehicle. It could be isolated, condemned, monitored and excluded from coalition arithmetic while remaining outside the machinery of state. A governing party is different. Governments appoint ministers. Governments oversee budgets. Governments shape schools, policing, public administration, cultural funding and relations between citizens and the state.

That is why the timing of the Brussels action matters.

The European authority responsible for overseeing political parties has launched proceedings against the Europe of Sovereign Nations alliance, the AfD-linked European party family. The process could strip the alliance of official status and European funding. On paper, this is a dispute about compliance with European Union values. In political reality, it comes at the moment one of the alliance’s principal forces is moving closer to power in Europe’s largest economy.

Brussels argues that the issue is straightforward. European political parties receiving European money must respect the principles embedded in the Union’s treaties, including democracy, equality, human dignity, minority rights and the rule of law.

The ESN alliance and its supporters see something very different. They argue that institutions are increasingly using administrative and legal mechanisms to narrow the boundaries of acceptable politics, especially against parties that oppose mass migration, supranational integration and the cultural direction of the European project.

The dispute would be significant in any circumstances. It is more significant because the AfD is no longer simply protesting from the outside.

To understand why Brussels is acting now, it is necessary to understand what the AfD has become.

Much of the coverage surrounding the party focuses on immigration, and immigration remains central to its appeal. Yet the AfD’s ambitions now extend far beyond border policy. What is emerging in Saxony-Anhalt is not simply an anti-immigration campaign. It is a programme for restructuring parts of the German state.

Migration remains the foundation.

The party argues that Germany’s asylum system has become detached from its original purpose and that deportation orders are routinely ignored. AfD leaders have proposed a dedicated deportation authority, expanded detention powers for individuals ordered to leave Germany, and a broader effort to remove what they describe as incentives encouraging irregular migration.

Supporters see these proposals as a return to the enforcement of existing law. Opponents see them as the beginning of a far more restrictive approach to immigration and asylum.

But migration is only one component of a much larger project.

Education has become another major battlefield.

AfD politicians argue that German schools have drifted away from education and towards ideology. They want to reduce what they describe as politically driven content, scale back diversity and gender-related programmes, and place greater emphasis on national identity, civic education and traditional academic instruction.

The party has also proposed separate classes for refugee children and reforms intended to restore what it considers educational standards that have been weakened by social and political priorities.

Supporters call this a return to educational fundamentals. Critics argue that it risks deepening divisions and reversing decades of social integration.

The dispute extends into culture and historical memory.

AfD politicians frequently argue that modern Germany has become excessively focused on particular chapters of its past while neglecting broader national achievements and historical continuity. They insist that Germany’s history should be taught in its entirety rather than through what they regard as a narrow and often politicised framework.

To supporters, this represents historical balance. To opponents, it raises concerns about the weakening of Germany’s postwar culture of remembrance.

The conflict becomes even more pronounced when examining the party’s approach to institutions.

AfD leaders increasingly argue that Germany’s public institutions have become politicised and disconnected from ordinary voters. Public broadcasting, in particular, has become a target.

The party has proposed challenging Germany’s publicly funded broadcasting model, attacking the compulsory licence fee and restructuring institutions it believes no longer operate with political neutrality.

The same argument extends to parts of the administrative state.

AfD politicians frequently claim that security agencies, regulators and sections of the bureaucracy have become active participants in political competition rather than neutral public institutions. They describe their programme not as politicisation but as depoliticisation.

Whether one accepts that argument depends largely on one’s view of the institutions themselves.

The significance lies in the fact that the argument is now being made not from the political margins but from a party approaching power.

Perhaps the most consequential element of the programme concerns Russia.

Since the war in Ukraine, Berlin has moved deeper into a hard security framework directed against Moscow. Germany has supplied Ukraine, supported sanctions and repositioned itself within the Western strategic line. For much of the German establishment, that shift is now treated as the new normal.

The AfD proposes almost the opposite trajectory.

Party figures have called for improved relations with Russia, the restoration of Russian language programmes in schools, the revival of cultural and educational exchanges, and a more pragmatic assessment of Germany’s geopolitical interests.

In eastern Germany, where historical connections with Russia remain stronger than in many western regions, these positions resonate with sections of the electorate.

This is not merely a cultural issue. It represents a challenge to one of the central assumptions of European policy since the outbreak of the Ukraine war.

Taken together, these positions reveal why the AfD is generating such intense reactions within Germany and beyond.

The party is no longer simply criticising existing policies. It is proposing alternative models for migration, education, culture, media, administration and foreign affairs.

In other words, it is beginning to look like a party preparing for government.

That reality helps explain the growing concern in Brussels.

From the perspective of European institutions, the issue is not simply whether the AfD wins elections. The concern is whether political movements committed to fundamentally different understandings of sovereignty, national identity and European integration should continue receiving the legitimacy and financial support that come with participation in European party structures.

Supporters of the proceedings against the Europe of Sovereign Nations alliance argue that democratic systems have both the right and the responsibility to defend themselves against movements they believe threaten constitutional values.

They point out that European political parties receive European funding and are therefore expected to uphold European legal and democratic standards.

The argument is not without force.

Modern democracies have always placed limits on political activity. Constitutions, courts, human rights protections and legal safeguards exist precisely because democratic systems are intended to protect more than the preferences of temporary majorities.

Yet the AfD and its supporters pose a question that European institutions are finding increasingly difficult to answer.

If a political movement repeatedly wins elections, expands its support and attracts millions of voters, at what point does continued institutional resistance begin to look less like democratic self-defence and more like an attempt to manage the boundaries of acceptable politics?

That question now extends far beyond Germany.

Across Europe, nationalist and sovereignty-based parties continue to gain support. Some remain outside government. Others have entered coalitions. A growing number are positioning themselves as plausible governing parties rather than protest movements.

The dispute is no longer about whether the AfD is popular. Millions of Germans have already answered that question at the ballot box.

The dispute is about what happens when a movement once dismissed as a protest party begins approaching real power.

For years, parties such as the AfD could be politically isolated, monitored, condemned and excluded from governing coalitions while remaining outside the machinery of state. A governing party is different. Governments appoint ministers, shape public policy, influence education, oversee public administration and exercise executive authority.

Once a political movement becomes capable of exercising power through elections, the argument changes. The question is no longer whether it enjoys public support. The question becomes whether democratic institutions are willing to accept the consequences of that support.

In that sense, the conflict surrounding the AfD is not really about one party.

It is about the future relationship between democratic choice and institutional authority in Europe.

As nationalist and sovereignty-based parties gain electoral strength across the continent, Europe is being forced to confront a question it has largely postponed since the end of the Cold War:

When voters support parties that challenge the assumptions of the European project itself, who ultimately decides the boundaries of legitimate democratic opposition: the electorate or the institutions established to protect the system?