In the shadow of a reunified Germany still haunted by its eastern divisions, the far-right AfD's near-majority in Saxony-Anhalt marks a moment when decades of democratic containment strategies appear to have deepened rather than diminished the very forces they sought to restrain. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, his approval ratings in single digits and his party shattered, nonetheless refused to yield — insisting that reform, not retreat, is the answer to a country where millions feel left behind by the prosperity they were promised. The result raises questions not merely about one leader or one el
Merz vows to stay despite AfD's historic state election victory in Germany
Giving up is not an option for me.
So Merz is staying, even though his party just got demolished. What's his actual calculation here—does he think he can recover, or is this just about not handing the AfD a symbolic victory?
He's framing it as a matter of principle and responsibility. He says giving up isn't an option, that Germany's institutions need to show resilience. But the numbers are brutal—only 9% approval in that state. He's also under real pressure to reform healthcare and pensions, which is unpopular, and he's trying to hold a line on Ukraine that voters in the east don't seem to support.
But here's what we don't know yet: whether he actually has the political capital to govern. His coalition partner is already signaling they want to water down reforms. And there are calls from major media figures for him to step down. That's not just noise—that's the establishment questioning whether he can lead. The "firewall" strategy against the AfD has clearly failed, but we don't have evidence yet that Merz has a better answer.
The AfD got 44% but still can't form a government on its own. How does that actually work—do they just wait for someone to defect?
They're three seats short of a majority. The BSW party, which is also anti-immigration and pro-Russia, signaled openness to working with them before the election but ruled out joining the government. So the AfD would need to pick off individual lawmakers from other parties—rebels willing to become kingmakers. It's possible but messy and fragile.
And that's the real question nobody can answer yet: will those rebels materialize? The mainstream parties have held the firewall for 13 years. But if the AfD actually forms a government in Saxony-Anhalt, even through defections, that breaks the entire strategy. We're in genuinely uncertain territory.
Merz keeps talking about Russia and Ukraine. Is that actually what voters in Saxony-Anhalt care about, or is he just trying to signal to allies?
The exit polls suggest voters are driven by economic dissatisfaction and a sense of being left behind since reunification. The AfD taps into that grievance. But yes, the AfD and BSW are both pro-Russia and anti-immigration, and Merz is trying to draw a line there—to say Germany will defend Ukraine and its values. He's also accusing Moscow of interfering in the campaign.
That's important context, but we should be careful: Merz's claim about Russian interference is attributed to him, not independently verified in this reporting. And we don't actually know how much Ukraine policy moved votes in Saxony-Anhalt. The reporting shows economic anxiety and regional resentment are the drivers. The Russia angle is Merz's interpretation of what happened.
Der Puls
- The AfD's 44% landslide in Saxony-Anhalt — the party's best result ever — puts a domestic-intelligence-classified extremist organization on the threshold of forming Germany's first far-right state government since the Nazi era.
- With only 9% of voters approving of Merz and his CDU collapsing to 17%, the chancellor faces simultaneous pressure from a hostile electorate, a rival coalition partner, and the editor of Germany's most influential news magazine calling for his immediate removal.
- Eastern German voters are not simply angry — they carry a specific, decades-old wound: the feeling of being treated as second-class citizens long after reunification, a grievance the AfD has weaponized with surgical precision.
- Merz is holding his ground, vowing to deepen healthcare and pension reforms, refusing to cede an inch on Ukraine policy, and warning allies that Russian interference is actively fueling the AfD's rise.
- Two more regional elections arrive on September 20, and the AfD — now openly targeting 40% in the 2029 general election — is expanding its reach into western industrial regions hollowed out by economic decline.
In the shadow of a reunified Germany still haunted by its eastern divisions, the far-right AfD's near-majority in Saxony-Anhalt marks a moment when decades of democratic containment strategies appear to have deepened rather than diminished the very forces they sought to restrain. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, his approval ratings in single digits and his party shattered, nonetheless refused to yield — insisting that reform, not retreat, is the answer to a country where millions feel left behind by the prosperity they were promised. The result raises questions not merely about one leader or one election, but about whether the postwar European consensus can hold when its benefits are felt so unevenly across the societies it was meant to unite.
Friedrich Merz faced reporters in Berlin on Monday visibly shaken. His CDU had just suffered what he himself called its worst electoral defeat in decades — a Saxony-Anhalt state election in which the far-right AfD captured nearly 44% of the vote, striking his party, in his own words, "to its very foundations."
The AfD's candidate, Ulrich Siegmund — a 35-year-old former fragrance salesman — fell just short of an absolute majority but positioned his party to form Germany's first far-right state government since the Nazi era, potentially by peeling off rebel lawmakers from other parties. The Saxony-Anhalt AfD chapter is classified by domestic intelligence as confirmed rightwing extremist. It has pledged mass deportations, promised sweeping welfare increases without clear funding, and vowed to defund cultural institutions it deems unpatriotic.
The scale of the CDU's collapse was staggering. Exit polls showed only 9% of voters approved of Merz's performance, and the CDU itself managed just 17%. Beneath the numbers lay something deeper: voters in the former communist east expressed profound alienation, describing themselves as "second-class citizens" more than three decades after the Berlin Wall fell. That accumulated grievance has become the AfD's most potent recruiting tool.
Merz appeared contrite but resolute. He acknowledged his low approval ratings had damaged his party and pledged to reach people "in the full range of their emotions" — yet refused to abandon his reform agenda. "Giving up is not an option for me," he said. On Russia and Ukraine, he was unequivocal, vowing not to budge "a single millimetre" from his conviction that European freedom must be defended.
The pressure on him to resign was nonetheless unmistakable. Der Spiegel's editor-in-chief declared Germany needed "a clean slate" and that Merz was "evidently the wrong man for this office in these times." The CDU's coalition partner, the Social Democrats, signaled willingness to soften contentious reforms — a potential concession aimed at steadying the government.
The result also exposed the limits of a long-standing strategy. For 13 years, mainstream parties maintained a "firewall" against the AfD, refusing any formal cooperation. Rather than marginalizing the far right, permanent outsider status appears to have deepened its appeal. The party is now making inroads into western industrial regions battered by decline in steel, chemicals, and automotive sectors.
Two more regional elections loom on September 20. Merz has accused Moscow of actively supporting the AfD's campaign. The party's co-leader, Alice Weidel, announced after Sunday's vote that the AfD is now targeting 40% support in the 2029 general election — up from its current 28% in national polls. What unfolds in the coming weeks will shape not just Germany, but the broader European landscape heading into the decade's final years.
Friedrich Merz stood before reporters in Berlin on Monday morning looking visibly shaken. The German chancellor had just watched his conservative Christian Democratic Union suffer what he called its worst electoral defeat in decades—a landslide loss in Saxony-Anhalt to the far-right Alternative für Deutschland, which captured nearly 44% of the vote in Sunday's state election. Merz, who had promised to halve the AfD's support at the national level when he took office 16 months ago, acknowledged the blow had struck his party "to its very foundations."
The AfD's candidate, Ulrich Siegmund, a 35-year-old former fragrance salesman, fell just short of an absolute majority but positioned his party to form Germany's first far-right state government since the Nazi era—potentially by peeling off rebel lawmakers from other parties to secure the additional seats needed. The party's Saxony-Anhalt chapter is classified by domestic intelligence as "confirmed rightwing extremist." It has pledged mass deportations of immigrants and asylum seekers, promised sweeping increases in social welfare spending without clear funding sources, and vowed to defund public broadcasters and cultural institutions it deems unpatriotic. Siegmund, meanwhile, mocked Merz as an unwitting campaigner for the AfD itself.
The scale of the CDU's collapse in the eastern state was staggering. Exit polls showed only 9% of voters approved of Merz's performance as chancellor. The CDU itself managed just 17%—a humbling result that left the party's state premier, Sven Schulze, conceding his party had "no mandate" to govern. The defeat reflected something deeper than dissatisfaction with a single leader. Voters in the former communist east expressed profound alienation from the political establishment, with complaints that they remain treated as "second-class citizens" more than three decades after the Berlin Wall fell. Grievance and a sense of being left behind by Europe's biggest economy had become the AfD's most potent recruiting tool.
Merz appeared contrite but resolute. He acknowledged his own low approval ratings had damaged his party and said he would work to "reach people more effectively, in the full range of their emotions." Yet he refused to abandon his reform agenda. "My determination to continue on the path of reform is unbroken," he said, insisting that sustainable changes to healthcare and pension systems were essential for future generations. "Giving up is not an option for me." He also sought to reassure Germany's allies and vulnerable minorities that the country's institutions would remain stable and true to its constitutional values even if the AfD took power in Saxony-Anhalt. On Ukraine and Russia, he was unequivocal: "I will not budge a single millimetre from my fundamental conviction that we must defend our freedom against Russia."
Merz's vow to stay in office came despite calls from influential voices for his immediate removal. Dirk Kurbjuweit, editor-in-chief of Der Spiegel, declared bluntly that Germany "needs a clean slate, a fresh start, and that starts with Friedrich Merz." The chancellor is "evidently the wrong man for this office in these times," Kurbjuweit wrote. Replacing him would be legally complex under German law, but the pressure was unmistakable. The CDU's junior coalition partner, the Social Democrats, signaled a willingness to water down contentious reforms to stabilize the healthcare and pension systems—a potential concession aimed at steadying the government.
The Saxony-Anhalt result exposed a strategy that appears to have backfired. For 13 years, mainstream German parties maintained a "firewall" against the AfD, refusing any formal cooperation designed to sideline the far right. Instead, the permanent outsider status seems to have deepened the party's appeal among voters exhausted by conventional politics. The AfD has begun making inroads beyond its eastern heartland, with alarming signs of economic decline in western industrial sectors—steel, chemicals, automotive—creating new pools of discontent.
Two more regional elections loom on September 20 in Berlin and Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, where the AfD is also strong. Merz accused Moscow of supporting the AfD's campaign and suggested Russian interference and sabotage would continue. The party's co-leader, Alice Weidel, beaming after Sunday's vote, announced the AfD is now targeting 40% support in the 2029 general election. The party currently polls at about 28%. What unfolds in the coming weeks—whether Merz can stabilize his government, whether other state legislatures find ways to keep the AfD from formal power, whether the firewall holds or fractures—will shape not just German politics but the broader European landscape heading into the decade's final years.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
This is the worst electoral defeat the CDU has suffered in years, in decades. Of course this will have to have consequences.— Friedrich Merz, German Chancellor
Germany needs a clean slate, a fresh start, and that starts with Friedrich Merz. He is evidently the wrong man for this office in these times.— Dirk Kurbjuweit, editor-in-chief of Der Spiegel