The revelation that politicians from Germany’s far-right Alternative fur Deutschland (AfD) party met with right-wing extremists in November last year to discuss an extremist “re-migration” plot has brought the debate over banning the party to a fever pitch.
The clandestine meeting, held at a lakeside hotel near Potsdam, Germany, reportedly centered on the possibility of mass deportations of non-ethnic Germans if the far right were to come to power. Alarmed by this horrifying vision, leaders from across the political spectrum, public intellectuals and influential media commentators argue that shutting down the AfD is necessary to safeguard German democracy.
The AfD’s surging popular support has only heightened the sense of urgency, especially with regional elections scheduled in three of Germany’s eastern states — the party’s strongholds — later this year. Lately, the AfD has offered full-throated support for farmer protests against proposed subsidy cuts, raising concerns that the party could exploit the explosive situation for political gain.
QUESTIONABLE
About half of the German public favors banning the AfD and hundreds of thousands of Germans have participated in protests against the party in the past few weeks.
Moreover, an online petition calling for the government to strip Bjorn Hocke, the notorious AfD leader in the German state of Thuringia, of his civil and political rights — a truly unprecedented proposal in Germany’s post-war history — has collected more than 1.5 million signatures.
However, attempting to outlaw the country’s second-most popular party would be democratically questionable and have unexpected — and potentially far-reaching — negative consequences.
To be sure, the procedure to ban political groups that seek to undermine or abolish the democratic system is straightforward enough. Germany’s Federal Constitutional Court decides whether to shut down a party after receiving a formal request from the German federal government, the federal parliament or Germany’s upper house chamber — the Bundesrat — which represents the federal states.
However, the constitutional court has set a high threshold for political exclusion, as demonstrated by earlier attempts to dissolve parties. In 2017, it rejected an application to outlaw the neo-Nazi National Democratic Party (NPD), despite the group’s overtly racist and anti-democratic agenda. The constitutional court last employed this mechanism in West Germany in 1956 — at the height of the Cold War — when it banned the Communist Party of Germany.
BAD PRECEDENT
This precedent suggests that bringing a court case against the AfD would be anything but a formality and, more importantly, could easily turn into a political fiasco. Given the AfD’s popularity, even asking the court to ban the party would be widely perceived as a tactical ploy by established parties to eliminate an increasingly strong competitor, reinforcing the far right’s argument that the system is rigged. If this attempt ultimately failed, the AfD’s cause would be strengthened, not weakened.
Moreover, constitutional court proceedings would inevitably be slow-moving — the case against the NPD took more than three years — and would conclude long after the coming wave of elections has passed. While any suggested benefits of an attempted AfD ban lie in the future, its negative repercussions would be felt immediately. In many ways, even debating legal action against the AfD only gives more ammunition to a party that thrives on a sense of victimhood.
Even in the unlikely event that the AfD is banned, only the party would disappear; its supporters — and their grievances — would not. Nothing would prevent AfD members from establishing a new right-wing party — an alternative to the Alternative.
VOTING BOOTH
It is high time to understand that fighting populism with legal activism does not work and might even worsen the problem. The challenge from the far right must be confronted politically, with solutions that address the root causes of discontent: high energy prices, stagnant economic growth, persistently high levels of inward migration and the failed integration of newcomers.
Certainly, liberal democracies must be vigilant — and they have both an obligation and a right to fight back, whether in the courts or in the halls of legislatures, but attempting to ban a political competitor is a shortcut around the unsettling fact that disgruntled voters have a legitimate right to express their grievances. Democratic values cannot be protected by curbing democratic freedoms.
The far-right challenge must be met in the voting booth, not at the judge’s courtroom. A victory over the AfD by way of a legal ban would be a moral and political defeat.
Michael Broning, the author of Vom Ende der Freiheit, serves on the Basic Values commission of Germany’s Social Democratic Party.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
The gutting of Voice of America (VOA) and Radio Free Asia (RFA) by US President Donald Trump’s administration poses a serious threat to the global voice of freedom, particularly for those living under authoritarian regimes such as China. The US — hailed as the model of liberal democracy — has the moral responsibility to uphold the values it champions. In undermining these institutions, the US risks diminishing its “soft power,” a pivotal pillar of its global influence. VOA Tibetan and RFA Tibetan played an enormous role in promoting the strong image of the US in and outside Tibet. On VOA Tibetan,
There is much evidence that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is sending soldiers from the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) to support Russia’s invasion of Ukraine — and is learning lessons for a future war against Taiwan. Until now, the CCP has claimed that they have not sent PLA personnel to support Russian aggression. On 18 April, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelinskiy announced that the CCP is supplying war supplies such as gunpowder, artillery, and weapons subcomponents to Russia. When Zelinskiy announced on 9 April that the Ukrainian Army had captured two Chinese nationals fighting with Russians on the front line with details
On a quiet lane in Taipei’s central Daan District (大安), an otherwise unremarkable high-rise is marked by a police guard and a tawdry A4 printout from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs indicating an “embassy area.” Keen observers would see the emblem of the Holy See, one of Taiwan’s 12 so-called “diplomatic allies.” Unlike Taipei’s other embassies and quasi-consulates, no national flag flies there, nor is there a plaque indicating what country’s embassy this is. Visitors hoping to sign a condolence book for the late Pope Francis would instead have to visit the Italian Trade Office, adjacent to Taipei 101. The death of
By now, most of Taiwan has heard Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an’s (蔣萬安) threats to initiate a vote of no confidence against the Cabinet. His rationale is that the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)-led government’s investigation into alleged signature forgery in the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) recall campaign constitutes “political persecution.” I sincerely hope he goes through with it. The opposition currently holds a majority in the Legislative Yuan, so the initiation of a no-confidence motion and its passage should be entirely within reach. If Chiang truly believes that the government is overreaching, abusing its power and targeting political opponents — then