His party’s 150-page program for governing Saxony-Anhalt does not lack in ambition either.
In it, Siegmund calls for Trump-style mass deportations of asylum-seekers — even though Saxony-Anhalt is one of the most ethnically homogeneous parts of the country, with only 1-in-13 citizens of migratory background.
He promises to defund public broadcasters deemed hostile and unpatriotic, ban all symbols of “woke” culture — including pride flags — in schools and, as part of his fight against “the extinction of the German people,” offer tax breaks for families consisting of “a father, a mother and as many children as possible.”
In an echo of the 1930s, the program even slams the Bauhaus art movement, which has strong roots in the region, as part of broader plans to promote “German art.”
These are all agenda items Germany’s federal states have jurisdiction over within their specific regions — education, culture, certain aspects of policing and criminal justice.
But to solely focus on these formal powers would be to miss the point. As in so many other countries, the far-right’s allure in Germany is growing, poisoning and often paralyzing the country’s mainstream parties and politics.
Postwar Germany faced — and surmounted — a series of difficult challenges during the Cold War and the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Its constitution is rigorous, and its commitment to democratic values (not least its unstinting support for Ukraine) is impressive. But it would not be an exaggeration to say, as I sign off my last monthly column for POLITICO, that the country is about to enter one of its most dangerous moments yet.
POLITICO occasionally publishes opinion pieces from guest authors to offer our readers a range of perspectives on the intersection of power and politics. The views expressed are those of the authors and do not reflect the views of POLITICO.
