The Left Berlin News & Comment

This is the archive template

Talking about the British election, Palestine solidarity, and disco music

Report from a German delegation at the Marxism 2024 Conference in London


13/09/2024

In July 2024, 3,500 people took part in the Marxism Conference in London. Among them were a group of over 50 people from Germany, mainly in and around the German organisation Sozialismus von Unten (SVU) and/or theleftberlin.

The conference started on 4th July, the day of the British election, where the ruling Conservatives suffered a crushing defeat. The main victors were Keir Starmer’s Labour Party (although Labour received fewer votes than in the previous 2 elections when the party was led by Jeremy Corbyn). An unprecdented 5 independent pro-Gaza MPs were elected, including Corbyn, who had been banned from standing for Labour.

The other main victor at the election was Nigel Farage’s right wing Reform party. Because of the peculiarities of British election logic, Reform did not win many seats, but they are poised to pounce if and when Keir Starmer’s Labour break their minimal election promises. The rise of the international far right was one of the two topics which dominated many of the discussions at the Conference. The German delegation was able to report from the recent attempt to close down the AfD Conference in Essen.

The other topic was Palestine solidarity. On the Saturday afternoon, Conference took a pause so that we could all attend the 100,000 strong Palestine demo. Many of the delegates from Germany were surprized, not just by the size of the thing, but also by the relative lack of police presence. Marching through London gave us a sense of our power.

When we returned from the demo, the next session was supposed to feature Corbyn talking about radical poetry. He was severely delayed, as he’d also been demonstrating and had stopped to chat with the many journalists wanting to talk to him. Once he arrived, he read the room, threw away his poetry speech for another time, and talked about his extraordinary electoral success and the challenges facing the British and international Left.

The room was full, and many people were stuck outside, so Corbyn went into the hallway and repeated his speech. Whatever criticisms one might have about some of his strategical decisions, Corbyn and the other independents are acting as a lightning rod to channel the opposition to a Starmer government which has already finished its honeymoon period.

theleftberlin was also able to organise a stall selling t-shirts and tote bags, making a total of €1000. Half of the profits will go to people in Gaza, the other half to supporting our activities in Berlin (including this website). We were also able to chat and make links with other international activists who visited our stall.

As well as the several discussions on Palestine, the far right, and the elections, there were meetings on everything from a new graphic novel about Toussaint L’Ouverture and the Haitian slave revolt to the politics of disco. After the conference, I asked some of the people there about their experiences. You can see some of their answers below.

 

Digital Romanticism in The Elder Scrolls

History, Landscape and Identities


11/09/2024

Fantasy settings can make the exploration of topics such as power, identity, society, class struggle and social division more accessible. By analysing how The Elder Scrolls tackles issues related to fascism and authoritarianism, players can get a better understanding of how these ideas manifest in society and how they might be resisted.

The Elder Scrolls is a series of video games developed by the American company Bethesda and set on the fictional continent of Tamriel. Each video game has its own narrative, both in chronological and geographical terms. Through the exploration of the different territories generated by its open world maps, we see how the digital landscape becomes an active agent in the creation of identities and characters that inhabit it.

The saga stands out for enabling a historical analysis linked to romantic landscape narratives of the 19th century, which are reinterpreted in the digital dimension through the generation of environments as literary tools. In this article I aim to analyse the aesthetics manifest in the representation of races/ethnicities in The Elder Scrolls in relation to landscape and architecture. These generate a historical dialogue between past and present, and emphasize the use of romantic visual references as a source of inspiration by the creators of the saga. 

The rise of nationalist movements and authoritarian governments globally has been marked by similar narratives to those found in the game, where the state’s power is centralized, often at the expense of freedom of speech and human rights violations. The game’s exploration of these themes can be used to discuss how authoritarian ideologies gain traction and the consequences of unchecked nationalism. When we analyse how the game portrays the use of myths and historical narratives, it will prove useful in understanding how fascist movements utilize similar strategies such as the romanticization of a “pure” national history to shape public opinion through media consumption. 

Geography and races

To introduce the setting, it is pertinent to present the map and the races that inhabit the continent of Tamriel, in which each territory hosts different towns and cities. The main areas are: Skyrim, Morrowind, Black Marsh, Cyrodiil, Elsweyr, Hammerfell, High Rock, Morrowind, Summerset Isles and Valenwood. The races that are distributed in three political alliances are: the Aldmeri Domain made up of the Altmers (high-elves), the Bosmers (elves that work wood), and the Khajiits (anthropomorphic felines); the Daggerfall Covenant made up of the Bretons (Manmeri, Hominids), the Redguards (Yokudans, Hominids), the Orsimer (orcs), and the Ebonheart Pact made up of the Dunmer (dark elves), the Nords (Atmorans, Hominids) and the Argonians (anthropomorphic reptiles).

Each of these groups is depicted with distinct idiosyncrasies, determined by a conception of historical reality where the dichotomy between East and West is perceptible; The Bretons and Redguards are two of the three human groups in the game represented by opposite features. In the case of the Bretons, the story places them as direct descendants of the Altmers (the dominant race and culture in the whole Elder Scrolls Saga), but the Redguards are relegated as remnants of a fleet of warriors from a remote island called Yokuda. Although both groups belong to the same humanoid category, the narrative clearly emphasizes a separation in their origins.

Alterity and environment

It is important to emphasize the portrayal of the feline Khajiit in relation to their environments and attributes, as they are a race of anthropo-zoomorphic beings characterized by an imagined sense of otherness. They are depicted as nomads, traders of fabrics and everyday goods, and traffickers of a drug called “Skooma,” which alludes to opium. The name of their homeland, Elsweyr, is a deliberate play on the term “elsewhere,” reinforcing their association with a distant, marginal space.

Another example of ideological representation in The Elder Scrolls series is the characterization of the Redguards, a human community of Black warriors depicted with a monolithic and temperamental personality. Their environments are portrayed through the imagery of arid, desolate deserts, with sparse vegetation and minimal urban development. This setting reflects the narrative of “imaginary knowledge” that Edward Said describes in Orientalism, where European geographical and historical understandings of the boundaries between East and West are shaped by a discourse of power. Said explains that this dichotomy stems from a portrayal of Europe as “powerful and capable of expression,” contrasted with an Asia depicted as “defeated and distant,” thereby framing Eastern regions as “silent and dangerous” territories.

In the game, landscapes corresponding to European aesthetic traditions, used as visual resources in medieval fantasy, are more prominently featured and host various races of characters that play central roles in the narrative. This visual contrast exemplifies Said’s argument about the relationship of domination between East and West. The Redguards’ environments, lacking monumental architecture and characterized by minimal vegetation, align with Said’s descriptions of “loss, void, and disaster,” reinforcing the perceived disparity between Eastern and Western spaces.

The Nords, a human race characterized by stereotypical elements of Viking culture, are situated in a mountainous region with cities marked by distinct and well-defined architecture. Unlike the stylistic pastiche seen in the Khajiit’s architecture, the constructions in Nord territories are explicitly modelled on medieval architectural ideals. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (2011), which is set primarily in this region, portrays the Nords as conquerors, emphasizing their brutality, explorative nature, and capacity for invasion. The game also underscores the nationalist ethos of the Nords, who are depicted as the rightful heirs and true rulers of Skyrim, and describes them as “children of snow,” imbuing them with an almost divine status.

Romantic models

The High Elves, or Altmer, inhabit the Summerset Isles, a region characterized by grand cities and architectural structures inspired by European Gothic Revival styles. As the primary race credited with the cultural development of Tamriel, they are positioned at the center of civilization in the game’s lore. The urban landscapes of the Summerset Isles evoke a romanticized vision of Western agrarian life, emphasizing ideals of simplicity, harmony with nature, environmental stewardship, and sustainable living. The game attributes much of the craftsmanship, art, and scientific knowledge found throughout Tamriel to Altmer tradition, reflecting their role as the driving force behind the political and cultural alliance of the High Elves.

The Elder Scrolls, as a multimedia RPG production, incorporates a literary framework typical of epic fantasy, drawing inspiration from recognizable Romantic models. The Industrial Revolution established a distinct dichotomy between rural and urban spaces, with rural areas gaining ideological prominence and becoming the idealized focus of Romantic landscape art. Theorists like John Ruskin and Viollet-le-Duc championed Gothic architecture as a distinctly European architectural language, aligned with the patriotic ideals characteristic of nineteenth-century nationalist and regionalist thought. This idealization of European national identities, coupled with the underdeveloped gender policies of the Enlightenment and the operations of colonial machinery, positioned landscape as a tool for transmitting content that ultimately served as ideological propaganda in defence of bourgeois interests.

The themes are clear: the sublime, the picturesque, the ruins, medieval nostalgia, and nature. These elements shape and define Romantic landscape painting, as they address concerns central to the narratives of fantasy literature. The movement to revalorize Gothic architecture led to the conceptualization of historic buildings as symbols of an idealized past, which, in turn, fostered a sense of national unity.

Industrial context

In the games The Elder Scrolls Online and The Elder Scrolls III, there is a place on the map known as Clockwork City, where the game’s timeline seems to diverge from the rest of the narrative. This secretive and difficult-to-access city is located within a small metal sphere hidden somewhere in Mournhold, a city in the Morrowind region, and requires the character to shrink in order to enter. The architecture of Clockwork City is particularly noteworthy, as it features a distinct urban environment unlike any other in Tamriel, drawing inspiration from steampunk aesthetics and industrialized contexts.

This city is exclusively populated by the so-called “Fabricants”, hybrid creatures of mechanical and organic components that do not belong to any of the main races, are native to this city and do not have a presence in any other region. The creation of this city is no coincidence. In the middle of the 19th century, with an already consolidated industrial revolution, the radical exponential and uncontrolled growth of cities generated massified neighbourhoods that resulted in precarious living conditions for the working class and a conceptual change in the representation of the landscape image.

We find narrative similarities to Clockwork City in other regions populated by the main races of the game. These conceptual changes that historically arose from artists and thinkers contributed to the literary substratum of the streams of thought such as British empiric philosophy, which already in the 18th century defended the value of the picturesque and the subjective. The consequences of the picturesque genre, especially in the English context, had a direct connection with the beginnings of the tourist routes that the bourgeoisie who lived in cities frequented, visiting rural places and spaces such as private villas, medieval ruins, houses, forests, neo-Gothic buildings, castles, etc. It is imperative to point out how Clockwork City’s design operates in these clear city-looking industrial aesthetics, and how its discursive treatment in the game relegates it to a residual and hostile environment, the same way the bourgeoisie depicted cities as dirty spaces destined for the working class to inhabit. 

To conclude 

These are just some of the examples in which The Elder Scrolls, among many other videogame productions belonging to the genre of RPGs and specifically high-fantasy, enable discursive decoding tools through scenography elements in which historical and ideological narratives are embedded under the pixels of our screens. 

In reviewing the amended contexts we can see how The Elder Scrolls is imbued with contemporary vestiges of a specific historical visual culture. In it, Western cosmovisions of the past are explicit and intertwined, consequently expressed in the representations of identities, landscapes and architectures of the game. 

It is not surprising that, even in fictional popular productions, where fantasy and imagination are the core for the creation of otherworldly possibilities, there isn’t even a break with the dominant ideological structures from the past and the present, as art is, and will always be, a product from it’s political, historical and social context. 

This article was originally published in Catalan in Ab Origine Magazine, and has been translated with minor changes by the author.

Queer festival ‘Whole’ and the political significance of clubbing

The 2024 edition of Whole Festival was held from 2 to 4 August in Ferropolis. A month after its end, we reflect on its significance as an act of cultural resistance, especially today and especially in Germany


10/09/2024

It has happened several times that I’ve gotten into a debate with friends about the political significance of clubbing. The most idealistic believe that the political component is intrinsic to it, while the most sceptical see it as a mere form of entertainment. The 2024 edition of Whole Festival – arguably the world’s largest queer electronic music festival, which this year peaked at 9,000 attendees – makes a strong case for the former.

Whole is known to many as “the queer utopia”. Founded in 2017 by a collective of Berlin party organisers, the festival has been held in Ferropolis (Gräfenhainichen, in the state of Brandenburg, only a couple of hours from Berlin) since 2019. The location is an open-air museum that was once the centre of the brown coal industry in central Germany. ‘Utopia’ is used here not as a romantic idealisation, but in the most literal sense of the word: for the four days of the event there existed a political and social micro-structure completely unrelated to the location. In fact, in the small town of Gräfenhainichen, the far-right party ‘Alternative für Deutschland’ scored an astounding 35.6% at the European elections in June 2024, ahead of all other parties. This is a frightening projection in view of the national elections in 2025. Yet that’s exactly where Whole took place, paradoxically where the rights of its participants are most at risk.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the festival area was the amount of keffiyehs and Palestinian symbols worn by the ravers in the most diverse ways. It was a sight that filled my heart with overwhelming joy, reinforcing the stark contrast between the political situation outside its perimeter and inside. Not only did bodies of all colours, origin, gender and form gather to create a parallel universe of inclusion, but they also felt the need to express their support for the Palestinian people in a celebration of multiculturalism and solidarity. A true act of resistance reclaiming common spaces, especially in the German context characterised by a strong anti-Palestinian bias. It was also an act of liberation, in many ways akin to the “Temporary Autonomous Zone” of the anarchist writer Hakim Bey. In his collection of essays from 1991 entitled “TAZ: The Temporary Autonomous Zone, Ontological Anarchy, Poetic Terrorism”, he speaks of temporary spaces that escape formal structures of control, where people can experience autonomy and liberation without interference from constituted authorities such as the state. This is Whole Festival’s added value compared to its peers: to position itself at the intersection of music, queerness, and politics.

This intersection naturally results in dominant social norms having little to no value; Whole’s temporary community challenges them all, from gender to sexual and identity norms. This is precisely its aim: to provide a safe space for authentic self-expression, outside the control and judgement of heteronormative society. A space where the differences of each identity become a reason for unity and mutual enrichment in favour of an inclusive intersectional collectivity in which all voices, especially marginalised ones, are heard and valued. This approach is evident in several aspects of the festival, starting with the type of booking. The selection of DJs is not so much based on individual artists as on collectives from different parts of the world (this year from ten different countries). Each of them represents different identities: there was the Brazilian collective ‘Batekoo’, focused on the QBIPOC community, Berlin’s ‘Body Language’, a series of femme-focused community-building parties, Barcelona’s ‘Maricas’, a FLINTA* queer techno party, São Paulo’s ‘Mamba Negra’, run by women and serving as an activist platform for women, Blacks and the LGBTQIA+ community, Eris Drew & Octo Octa’s US collective and label ‘T4T Luv NRG’, championing the trans community and Kazakhstan’s ‘Zvuk’, which is transforming the Central Asian underground scene.

The inclusive aspect does not neglect accessibility practices, both physical and economic. Whole offered free admission for people accompanying participants with a disability card and set up barrier-free toilets and showers. While the festival publicly acknowledged that not all areas were accessible (some are not wheelchair-accessible, there are no guides for the blind, and accompanying dogs are not allowed due to the high volume of music) it was committed to finding individual solutions. This year saw the introduction of 1,000 community tickets, which are discounted tickets for people on a limited budget. The solidarity programme was also expanded (from 100 to 150), offering a free festival experience to members of the community who are most affected by systemic and economic inequalities, with a special focus on refugees, POC and Black people, trans and gender expansive people, and people with disabilities and those experiencing fatphobia.

Further distancing Whole from an event of pure entertainment is the rich programme of workshops and panel talks. These educational moments create a space for activism that promotes social change and raises awareness through the participation of members of the community. They also serve as a break from the music that never quite stops for four full days. Highlights included “Darkroom Discourse” about public sex and shared sex spaces, facilitated by writer and historian Ben Miller, co-author of “Bad Gays: A Homosexual History” and with Huw Lemmey (Verso, 2022), by João Florêncio, senior lecturer in History of Modern and Contemporary Art and Visual Culture at the University of Exeter and by activist collective DTF. There was also “Decolonising Desire: Navigating Misogynoir And Racial Fetishization In Sex-Positive Spaces” moderated by multidisciplinary artist Ivy Monteiro, part of Trans Safety Emergency Fund, and American-Australian author and artist Jennifer Neal (Notes on Her Colour, 2023, Catapult/Penguin Books Australia) on the participation of people of colour in sex-positivity. Another workshop was on the topic “Fund Healthcare Not Warfare”, facilitated by ACT UP activist, performer, presenter and writer Dan Glass and Palestinian physician Qassem Massri; “Innocent Until Proven Muslim. Understanding Anti-Muslim Hate”, hosted by political scientist and anthropologist Fouad Gehad Marei. Finally there was also the screening of the movies “Resistance & Resilience In The Palestinian Struggle”, “Mourning Ghosts – Queer Grief And Rituals” and “What Our Bodies Reveal: Queer & Trans Bipoc Ravers On Screen”.

The organisers stand in sharp contrast to the current political situation in Germany, characterised by a heavy climate of censorship and cancellation of events not in line with the government’s political stance (an extensive list of which is available thanks to the tireless work of the crowdsourcing platform Archive of Silence). While pro-Palestine initiatives by Whole are not new and date back to at least 2022 with the panel talk “Free Palestine as a Queer Issue”, this year the festival went public with a statement on Instagram acknowledging that “Queer liberation is part of a broader fight against oppression and the struggle for LGBTQ+ rights is inherently linked to broader movements for human rights and liberation, including struggles against racism, domination, and discrimination”. The statement continues: “In Germany, especially, there is an intensely polarising and repressive political climate that hinders and even penalises intersectional efforts to recognise the calamity of the situation. Despite all this, we stand in unwavering solidarity with those affected in their struggle for justice, freedom, self-determination, and equal rights”. This position was by no means a foregone conclusion, especially in the German context where institutions and organisations tend to self-censor and not take a stand, or even distance themselves from the matter in a cowardly and indignant manner by dismissing it as “complicated” for fear of repercussions, including the cutting of state funds. It is not known if or what consequences this stance had for Whole, but one episode in particular is emblematic of the surreal situation in Germany: the ex-comedian turned-fanatic-supporter-of-Israel who became famous for his ironic videos about Berlin life with the motto “It’s so Berlin” (whom I chose not to name), openly attacked Whole with a story on Instagram in which he incited his 243K followers to report the festival by accusing it of “apology of terrorism”, asking them to “call for an investigation into their funding and groups they’re associated with”. These kinds of unfounded accusations are used on a daily basis in Germany to silence anyone who expresses criticism of Israel’s policies and Germany’s complicity in them.

It is worth focusing on another unique element of Whole, namely its location. Situated in the midst of nature, it makes the festival an event intrinsically linked to its landscape. This deep connection with the natural environment has become one of the festival’s defining elements, making it an occasion not only to celebrate queer identity and community, but also to claim a form of liberation from urban spaces. Far from the concrete and asphalt of cities, Whole offers a context in which connection with nature becomes central. This environment allows participants to experience freedom and discovery, where direct contact with the earth, air, and water fosters a feeling of reconnection with self and others. The festival thus becomes a space where urban conventions are subverted, paving the way for new forms of expression and socialisation. Hence the importance given to FKK (Freikörperkultur) culture, or nudism, which is a fundamental component for many participants. Nudity is not only a physical practice, but takes on a political and social significance within the queer community. In this context, nudism becomes an instrument of rejection of traditional canons and norms imposed by urban society, promoting an idea of a free body, free of labels and open to authentic self-expression.

There would still be much to say about the course of the festival, from the music to the live performances, via the interruption caused by an alleged bomb alert within the premises of the festival and the doomsday-scenario storm, but it might be more interesting to detach for a moment from what went on to focus on what Whole has left us. One week after the festival, I found myself on a beach in Apulia (Italy) with my boyfriend. Quite by chance there was a group of guys next to us who had also been at Whole – it was the main topic of their conversation: their adventures, their encounters, their memories. Although now a whole month has passed, there’s still a lot to process in its aftermath. With certainty, the sense of gratitude for having witnessed the experiment of an international, interconnected queer community with anarchic traits, coming together to celebrate its existence and diversity, has transformed into a sense of belonging to something greater. And just as surely, Whole shows us that another model of society is not only possible, but urgently needed: one of inclusion, solidarity, acceptance and harmony with nature.

What remains with many, if not all, is a very specific kind of memories: those that seem simultaneously recent and distant. These memories have an almost surreal quality: time seems to expand or contract in a strange way. The idea of nostalgia might, in this context, be particularly apt to describe them: the past is remembered fondly, burdened by a sense of loss or distance. On the bright side, this melancholy will only last for one year. Until the next edition.

The AfD won big in Thuringia and Saxony – what now?

For the first time since the Second World War, a far right party has topped an election poll


09/09/2024

For the first time since World War II, a far-right party has won a state election in Germany. The AfD received the largest share of votes in the state of Thuringia, winning over almost 33% of voters, and the second largest in Saxony. So, now that an anti-immigrant, Eurosceptic party has more than just a foot in the door, what does the future hold for German politics?

The regional elections took place on Sunday, September 1st, with voters across Thuringia and Saxony, both located in former East Germany, heading to the polls. An election in Brandenburg is also scheduled for later this month. The AfD leader for Thuringia is Björn Höcke, one of the most hard-right members of the party, who has been fined for using Nazi slogans, and deemed an extremist by Germany’s domestic intelligence agency. 

But, how important are these elections to Germany’s political landscape as a whole? Thuringia is home to less than 3% of the German population, so, whilst the results indicate a worrying trend, the region is not necessarily representative of Germany’s wider voting patterns. 

The AfD now has a Sperrminorität, or a blocking minority, meaning that any decisions that require a two-thirds majority will have to be approved by the party. Olaf Scholz has called for a political ‘firewall’, asking other parties to unite to prevent the far-right from governing (something co-leader Alice Weidel has called ‘undemocratic’). Despite their recent success, analysts believe it unlikely that the AfD will participate in government, as no other parties will be willing to form a coalition with them. 

The results are indicative of a long-term pattern; that voters in eastern Germany are far more likely to vote for hard-right and populist parties (both left and right) than their western counterparts. The left-wing populist BSW (Bündnis Sahra Wagenknecht) performed very well, especially considering the party was only founded in January of this year, coming in third place in both Saxony and Thuringia. One reason for this disparity is the lasting political repercussions of the GDR era – a different understanding of democracy and national identity that the AfD has successfully exploited

The Russia/Ukraine war is an important issue in this election; in fact, Russian media has purported that the AfD and BSW’s success is down to their pro-Russian foreign policy. Links to Russia are stronger in the former-Soviet eastern states, and there are still large numbers of German citizens with Russian heritage (Russlanddeutsche). Studies have shown that Russlanddeutsche are more likely to vote for the AfD than the general population, and the promise of rekindling relations with Russia is a big draw. 

However, the AfD’s key talking point that likely won over Thuringia was immigration. The election came just over a week after a mass stabbing in the city of Solingen, where three people were killed by a Syrian man believed to be a member of Islamic State. His asylum application to Germany had been rejected, yet he managed to remain in the country. 

Politicians have used this case to push for more stringent immigration policies and fewer asylum admissions – Björn Höcke tweeted ‘Finally put an end to the misguided path of forced multiculturalisation!, and an AfD representative for Brandenburg called for a ban on asylum seekers attending public events. But it wasn’t just the far-right who politicised the incident; Olaf Scholz and other members of his coalition also called for more deportations, perhaps a tactic to minimise the AfD’s power, that has since backfired.

Olaf Scholz’s coalition government is unpopular. In retaliation to the current political establishment – made up of the SPD, the Greens and the FDP – many voters have turned to the far-right and populist left. It suggests a break from centrism across Germany, and a pivot to more extreme policies, particularly regarding immigration and international relations. Yet, the future of Germany’s political landscape will not ultimately become clear until September 2025, when the federal Bundestag elections will take place.

Chronicle of a Death Foretold

As expected, the AfD did well in the elections and Thuringia and Saxony. This makes it all the more important that we understand why

In Gabriel García Márquez’s world-renowned novel Chronicle of a Death Foretold, the reader knows from the very first page that the story will end in murder. Furthermore, this is not just an intuition. The author reveals in the very first sentence that the main character, Santiago Nasar, will be killed. Yet, the author’s narrative is so clear, and the language of the book so fluent, that despite knowing the ending, the reader continues to read with great curiosity.

Evaluating elections in Germany, unlike in many other countries, is often like reading Chronicle of a Death Foretold. Polls have a low margin of error. Political developments and candidates’ speeches from the parties already give away what the election results will be. Therefore, most of the commentaries on the state parliamentary elections in Thuringia and Saxony on Sunday, September 1, had already been written the previous week and had already reached the editors. The only thing missing from the articles on the editors’ desks were the election results, and there was an unoptimistic hope in the language that made one wonder “what if?”.

Just as we know Santiago Nasar will be killed in Chronicle of a Death Foretold, voters also knew that something would “die” in these elections. However, in this environment, both excessive hope and despair are meaningless. A good analysis of these two elections could revive some of the “things” that seem to have died in Germany.

The rise in support for the far-right AfD (Alternative for Germany), especially in eastern German states, was predictable. The initial results confirmed this: in Thuringia, the far-right party came in first place with a 6% lead, while in Saxony, they came in second by a narrow margin. It was also clear that the party surpassing AfD in Saxony being the Christian Democrats (CDU) would not make anyone on the political left happy. While a coalition between CDU, BSW (Sahra Wagenknecht Alliance), and SPD (Social Democratic Party) was expected in the Saxony parliament, in Thuringia, the only way to form a majority government would be for all the parties, except AfD, to agree on a coalition. The CDU had said they would never form a coalition with Die Linke (The Left), while it was known that Die Linke’s stance toward BSW wasn’t very positive either. In a minority government scenario without one of these parties, AfD could tie the hands of the parliament on matters such as the dissolution of parliament in extraordinary situations or the appointment of judges to the high court.

At this point, rather than being anxious about AfD’s rapid rise, it’s important to focus on understanding the reasons behind it. This is the only way to see the light at the end of the tunnel in the fight against far-right radicalism.

Wars and economic crises have left more than just bloodshed in world history. Far-right radicalism has always emerged as the rising tide in times of such crises. The crisis that began with the Ukraine-Russia war deepened when Germany, with an industrial-based economy, lost access to Russian gas. Inflation soared to levels not seen in a long time. The burden of taxes weighed heavier on citizens than ever before, and wage increases failed to keep pace with the rising cost of living. The ongoing housing crisis intensified. The social injustice between East and West Germany, combined with the government’s shifting budget from social services and education to defense, made the rise of far-right parties inevitable, especially those that based their politics on fundamental rights. These parties, with unfounded arguments, blamed all the existing problems on immigrants, denying Germany’s imperialist past and the fact that these issues existed long before the waves of migration. However, by presenting a tangible “enemy” and an immediate “target” to the impoverished masses, they garnered attention and successfully secured the votes of this segment of society.

At this stage, liberal parties with vague rhetoric, often criticized for being unclear, began to gradually lose the support they had found among voters. Parties that focused on the core issues of the majority, namely the lower-income groups, and that had clear principles, whether good or bad, started to rise. The existence of a left-wing party that centers around fundamental issues like peace, social justice, housing, and food security would be one of the most effective ways to prevent people who wish to oppose the detached and indifferent policies of the current federal government from being forced into the arms of the AfD.

For now, no party is willing to form a coalition with the AfD, which shows that there is still time and leverage to allow the development of the type of left-wing movement described above. It must be emphasized that the right to a decent life and social justice are the most important values for everyone, and that the poor people who voted for the AfD but are not part of the core of the party must also be convinced of this. Because without them we can never resurrect the “things that have died.”

This article was originally written in Turkish. Translator: Gülşah Gürsoy