In the aftermath of Saxony-Anhalt's state election, Germany finds itself at one of those rare historical junctures where a single regional result casts a long shadow over an entire nation's identity. The far-right AfD's victory — and the revelation that three in five voters chose parties Chancellor Friedrich Merz considers hostile to the rule of law — has forced a reckoning not only with the health of German democracy, but with the country's commitments to Ukraine, NATO, and the postwar liberal order it helped build. Merz, visibly shaken, reached for the language of constitutional principle, k
Merz warns AfD victory 'changes all of Germany' as far-right surges in state election
Power is granted, not seized. The minority is not the enemy.
So Merz is saying this election changes everything in Germany. What exactly changed?
The far-right AfD won a state election for the first time with real power within reach. Sixty percent of voters chose parties that Merz says disregard the rule of law. That's the shock—not just that the AfD won, but how many people voted for parties outside the democratic mainstream.
But let's be precise about that sixty percent figure. Merz is lumping together the AfD, the Left Party, and the Wagenknecht Alliance. Are those really equivalent threats? The Left Party has governed in eastern Germany before.
Fair point. Merz is making a political argument, not a neutral observation. But his concern about the AfD specifically is grounded—the party does oppose Ukraine support and has documented ties to Putin's government.
And the immediate problem for Merz is that the AfD doesn't have an absolute majority, which means—
Which means a few CDU lawmakers could theoretically vote with the AfD to make Siegmund head of government. That would be a catastrophe for Merz's authority.
But has that actually happened yet? Or is this a threat that hasn't materialized?
It hasn't happened. The source says it's a "worst-case scenario" that has "narrowly been averted." But the pressure is real, and Merz can't control what individual lawmakers do.
What about his pension reforms? Those seem to be poisoning him politically.
Yes. Schulze blamed them directly for his defeat. They're unpopular, they cause real hardship, and they're a lightning rod. Klingbeil even suggested reconsidering them after the election.
And Merz refused to budge?
He didn't mention changing course. He's defending the reforms as necessary, even as the political ground collapses.
So he's doubling down on unpopular policy while his party fractures?
That's the gamble he's making. Whether it holds is the question everyone's asking now.
Il Polso
- The AfD's win in Saxony-Anhalt sent shockwaves through Berlin, with Merz himself calling it a catastrophe with consequences that will reverberate internationally.
- The AfD's deep ties to Putin's Russia and its opposition to arming Ukraine transform this regional result into a potential fault line in German foreign policy and NATO solidarity.
- Merz now faces a treacherous internal threat: a handful of CDU defectors could hand AfD leader Ulrich Siegmund the state premiership, destabilizing both Merz's party leadership and his chancellorship.
- Saxony-Anhalt's outgoing premier blamed Merz's unpopular pension reforms for the CDU's collapse, yet Merz has refused to change course, betting his authority on resolve rather than retreat.
- Siegmund, triumphant and defiant, dismissed media warnings as validation and signaled he wants absolute power — though he lacks the votes to claim it, leaving the state's political future suspended in uncertainty.
In the aftermath of Saxony-Anhalt's state election, Germany finds itself at one of those rare historical junctures where a single regional result casts a long shadow over an entire nation's identity. The far-right AfD's victory — and the revelation that three in five voters chose parties Chancellor Friedrich Merz considers hostile to the rule of law — has forced a reckoning not only with the health of German democracy, but with the country's commitments to Ukraine, NATO, and the postwar liberal order it helped build. Merz, visibly shaken, reached for the language of constitutional principle, knowing that the words he chose would echo far beyond the podium.
Friedrich Merz appeared before cameras on Monday morning visibly shaken, standing beside Sven Schulze, the state premier who had just lost his position. The day before, voters in Saxony-Anhalt had handed the far-right Alternative for Germany its latest and most consequential victory, and the CDU had suffered a bitter defeat.
Merz was unsparing in his assessment. Something had changed not just in Saxony-Anhalt, he said, but across all of Germany — with repercussions that would reach the international stage. His concern was pointed: the AfD opposes military support for Ukraine and many of its senior figures maintain close ties to Vladimir Putin's government. For a German chancellor, those facts carry the full weight of history.
What disturbed him beyond the AfD's win was the broader picture. Sixty percent of Saxony-Anhalt's voters had chosen parties he considered hostile to the rule of law — including the AfD, the Left Party, and the Sahra Wagenknecht Alliance. At the podium, Merz drew a deliberate constitutional line: power in Germany is granted, not seized, and the minority is not the enemy of the majority. The historical resonance of those words was unmistakable.
The immediate crisis was also practical. The AfD fell just short of an absolute majority, meaning a small number of CDU defectors could tip the balance and elect AfD candidate Ulrich Siegmund as head of government. Schulze had already blamed Merz's pension reforms for the CDU's collapse, but Merz showed no intention of reversing course — even as his grip on both the party and the chancellorship grew more precarious.
Siegmund, meanwhile, appeared at the Federal Press Conference in a mood of open triumph. He thanked the media sarcastically for their scrutiny, suggesting it had only helped him. Der Spiegel had recently called him Germany's most dangerous man; he seemed to wear the label as a badge. Yet when pressed on forming a government, he dodged — he wanted absolute power, not a coalition, and he did not have the votes. What would come next remained an open and unsettling question.
Friedrich Merz stood before the cameras in Berlin on Monday morning, visibly shaken. The day before, voters in Saxony-Anhalt had delivered what he could only call a catastrophe: the far-right Alternative for Germany, the AfD, had won the state election, and his own Christian Democratic Union had suffered a bitter defeat. Beside him stood Sven Schulze, the state premier who had just lost his job. They had little left to say to each other, but they appeared together anyway, as politicians sometimes do when the ground has shifted beneath them.
Merz did not mince words about what had happened. "Not only did something change in Saxony-Anhalt yesterday," he said, "but throughout all of Germany. It will have repercussions, including on the international stage." He was not speaking in abstractions. The AfD opposes military support for Ukraine in its war against Russia. Many of the party's senior figures maintain close relationships with Vladimir Putin's government. For a German chancellor, these facts carry the weight of history and geopolitics both.
What troubled Merz most was not simply the AfD's victory but the broader picture it revealed. Sixty percent of Saxony-Anhalt's voters had chosen parties that, in his assessment, disregard the rule of law in Germany. He was referring not only to the AfD but also to the socialist Left Party and the Sahra Wagenknecht Alliance, a splinter group that had broken away from the Left over positions that now aligned it more closely with the far right. Standing at the podium, Merz adopted an almost confrontational tone. "Majorities can change," he acknowledged, "and democrats must always be aware of that and accept it." But then he drew a line. "In our country, these values are not up for debate. Power is granted, not seized. And the minority is not the enemy of the majority." The language was deliberate—historians have long described the Nazi seizure of power as exactly that, a seizure rather than a grant, and Merz's invocation of constitutional principle was sure to dominate discussion in the days ahead.
Yet Merz faced a more immediate and practical crisis. The AfD had fallen just short of an absolute majority in the Saxony-Anhalt state parliament. This narrow margin created a dangerous opening. If even a handful of CDU lawmakers in the state broke ranks and voted with the AfD, they could elect Ulrich Siegmund, the AfD's top candidate, as head of government. Schulze, standing silently beside Merz, had already blamed the chancellor's unpopular reforms—particularly a sweeping overhaul of Germany's pension system—for his own collapse at the ballot box. The question now was whether Merz could hold his own party together, or whether his position as both party chairman and chancellor would unravel.
Merz gave no indication he would change course. When Lars Klingbeil, the vice chancellor and leader of the Social Democratic Party, had suggested on election night that the government should reconsider its reforms, Merz did not follow. He was determined to press ahead, even as the political ground crumbled beneath him.
Meanwhile, Ulrich Siegmund took the stage at the Federal Press Conference with a very different mood. He was triumphant, even defiant. He thanked the media—sarcastically—for their coverage of the campaign. "It was also thanks to you that we made it," he said, referring to the intense scrutiny and criticism the AfD had faced. Der Spiegel, one of Germany's most influential news magazines, had recently published a cover story calling him "Germany's most dangerous man." Siegmund seemed to view such warnings as validation rather than condemnation. "Never before has there been such a wide gap between those members of the media who seek to dictate to us here in Saxony-Anhalt how we should live and the reality of life for the people in this state," he declared.
But when pressed on whether he had a mandate to form a government—even without an absolute majority, possibly with tacit support from the Wagenknecht Alliance—Siegmund dodged the question. He made clear that he wanted absolute power, not a coalition partnership. He did not have the votes for that. What would happen next remained uncertain, a question that would dominate German politics for weeks to come.
Citazioni salienti
Not only did something change in Saxony-Anhalt yesterday but throughout all of Germany. It will have repercussions, including on the international stage.— Chancellor Friedrich Merz
Never before has there been such a wide gap between those members of the media who seek to dictate to us here in Saxony-Anhalt how we should live and the reality of life for the people in this state.— Ulrich Siegmund, AfD top candidate