Germany’s election is a litmus test for Trump’s right-wing impact on Europe

Days before Germany’s election, signs of stagnation in the AfD campaign offer reasons to be cheerful amid right-wing bluster, writes Mary Dejevsky

Europe thought it was better prepared for a Donald Trump presidency the second time around, but it clearly had little idea of the hurricane about to head east. The way Trump has exercised power since entering the White House has been dizzying. It has distressed much of the European and British establishment, while lending new dynamism to the political right – the actual right, that is, not its liberal European rendition.

You have only to consider the right-wing pow-wow that was the conference of the Alliance for Responsible Citizenship (ARC) in London this week. Meet the right as a rising political force, which may well be set to grow for as long as Trump is in power and as long as Trumpism endures.

But what of continental Europe? Could it be that Trump is changing the political dynamics here as well, to the point where the right could become dominant across the region? To an extent, the views brought together by the ARC are an Anglo-Saxon phenomenon. But you could also argue that, in much of Europe, we are almost there.

The right was successfully creeping across Europe well before Trump 2.0 came along. Giorgia Meloni won power in Italy in 2022; there are what are widely regarded as populist governments of the right in Hungary, Slovakia and now Austria, and there would also be such a government in Romania had the election not been annulled. The far-right Freedom Party topped the polls in the Netherlands in 2023 and is part of a four-party coalition. The far-right Alternative fur Deutschland (AfD) is the main opposition in several regions in Germany, after heading last year’s polls, while Marine Le Pen’s National Rally is the main opposition in the French parliament, following Emmanuel Macron’s ill-judged summer election.

But there remains a big constraint on far-right parties being elected to government in France and Germany, which can be summed up as history. Voters in France have repeatedly shrunk from electing a far-right president or parliament, despite coming near, and those German regions where the AfD has topped the polls face the opprobrium of the wider electorate, with huge “Never Again!” protests every recent weekend. Could the Trump effect change this? There may be a preliminary answer as early as this Sunday night.

By sheer coincidence, the first waves of Trumpism in action broke on the eastern shores of the Atlantic less than two weeks before Germany’s federal election this Sunday (23 February), with the campaign reaching its climax. The first message to be heard was that executive power could be used – and fast – to limit migration, cut government waste, and protect domestic industry. The resonance could be seen in campaign advertising across the political spectrum.

But the serious business began when the US defence secretary, Pete Hegseth, told Europe in no uncertain terms that the new US administration had new priorities – and Europe was not one of them. He also said that the war in Ukraine had to end. Within hours, the US vice-president, JD Vance, had read the European elite, gathered at Munich, a lesson in conservative values and the Trumpist worldview.

‘The precise composition of the inevitable coalition could depend on tiny percentages, and on how many of the smaller parties exceed the 5 per cent threshold to get into parliament’ (AP)

The initial impact on the election campaign was shocked silence. The mainstream had for so long taken the US-backed Nato umbrella as read, while the far left and right – both wanting an end to the Ukraine war and a rapprochement with Russia – hardly dared cite Trump, of all people, in their support.

In the hours of election debates, interviews and vox-pops that have dominated the airwaves as the campaign nears its end, the main candidates have barely adjusted their pitch to the new reality. It has been left to the lame-duck government to scramble for some response that will leave its already poor electoral prospects intact. Thus chancellor Olaf Scholz disagreeing with the UK’s Keir Starmer about the wisdom of sending troops to Ukraine, and thus the press conference, just three days before the vote, from Boris Pistorius, the defence minister (and possible successor to Scholz as SPD leader), outlining plans for new military spending.

As he was speaking, the German news channel flashed a headline: “Mercedes profits collapse; outlook pessimistic” – which pretty much summed up the mood. The cumulative effect of the pandemic, the scaling back of Russian gas imports, and higher prices all round has been all too evident as I travelled around the eastern regions last autumn, and even more in the cities – a snowy Berlin and grey Hamburg – I have visited now. Dirty streets, surly service, trains that don’t run on time, unaffordable housing, an explosion of homelessness... The UK is not alone in its problems. No wonder the polls say that Germans will vote for change.

The main beneficiary, and next chancellor, is likely to be Friedrich Merz of the centre-right CDU, a 6ft 6in former commercial lawyer of independent means who towers over his opponents in debates. But the paradox of German elections is that while the big-picture winner looks certain – Merz and his CDE-CSU alliance have been at 30 per cent for weeks – the precise composition of the inevitable coalition could depend on tiny percentages, and on how many of the smaller parties exceed the 5 per cent threshold to get into parliament.

The best-case scenario for Merz might be a so-called grand coalition with the SPD – the two centrist leaders have carefully avoided too much direct nastiness in the debates. The worst case would be if the centre right and centre left between then could not reach the needed 50-plus per cent, necessitating a less stable three-party coalition, or if the AfD exceeded its forecast 20 per cent, making it the obvious partner in a right-wing coalition had such an alliance not been expressly excluded by Merz. Germany could even end up with a repeat of the current “traffic light” – SPD, Green and free-market FDP – coalition, in the event that the centre-right were unable to form a government.

One imponderable is how far the AfD may have been helped or hindered by the winds blowing from Washington. What seems to some like endorsement from Trump – the AfD leader, Alice Weidel, had a one-on-one meeting with Vance during his visit – could work either way. As a gay woman with two children and dual residency (but not, she stresses, dual citizenship) by virtue of her Swiss wife, she also breaks many moulds, which could affect her vote.

There are signs too of a revival on the extreme left. Die Linke are about the only party making ground, with their young candidate, Heidi Reichinnek, trending on social media and a platform addressing social inequality. This too could reduce the AfD vote, as the two are essentially appealing to the same alienated constituency.

In the meantime, the challenge from Washington has remained essentially unanswered on the election front. It presents a quandary for all Europe, but especially for Germany – a bigger donor to Ukraine than even the UK. Having upended its economy once, at great cost, in response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, it could now consider reversing tracks again in response to a general rapprochement with Russia. Or it could widen the breach with Washington by underwriting a European effort to help Ukraine pursue what increasingly seems a doomed war.

As the days have passed, it has become ever clearer that none of Germany’s political parties, or its leaders, or its voters, are ready to make that fateful but necessary choice, which will help chart the future not just for Germany but for Europe. The election will be fought and won on the old issues, couched in the old way. It will only be when a new government is in place, which could take much agonising and many weeks, that we will know how Berlin is going to address the new transatlantic reality, and the rest of Europe will have little choice but to wait.