Germany’s political landscape is undergoing a significant transformation. The far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), once confined to the fringes of political discourse, is unexpectedly gaining traction among people with migration backgrounds and their communities. The party reshaped its messaging prior to the February 2025 Federal Elections, tapping into socio-economic grievances and cultural narratives to court groups it had previously sidelined. This investigation explores the forces behind this shift, exposing a complex web of contradictions and tensions that ripple through Germany’s migrant communities and beyond.

Immigrants in Germany are navigating a shifting political environment as the far-right AfD makes unexpected inroads with some of the very communities it vilifies.

“They tried to get me killed…I've been attacked many times, including by knife,” Kevork Almassian recounts, his voice calm yet deliberate as he reflects on his turbulent experiences. “These things happened to me because I gave a speech to the AfD.”

Born in Aleppo, Syria, Almassian fled to Germany in 2015 amid the chaos of the Syrian civil war. Just three years later, he became an aide to Markus Frohnmaier, a Bundestag representative for the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party. (Frohnmaier’s office did not respond to a request to confirm this information.) This controversial association has brought intense scrutiny and hostility, particularly from Berlin’s Arab community. Almassian has also received criticism for his support of the former regime of Bashar al-Assad in Syria.

On July 6, 2020, Almassian claimed he narrowly escaped a violent attack in Berlin, alleging that two knife-wielding assailants chased him through the streets as he desperately sought help. However, the authenticity of this incident has been repeatedly questioned, with members of Berlin’s Arab community calling for an investigation. While the truth remains unclear, the controversy highlights the complex interplay of identity, politics, and mistrust in Almassian’s life—a refugee seeking safety but aligning himself with a party often criticized for its anti-immigrant rhetoric. Almassian’s relationship with the Arab community in Berlin remains fraught. In a WhatsApp message, Almassian insisted that our initial meeting take place far from “Syrian/Arab neighborhood[s]”.

Kevork Almassian, an Armenian-Syrian refugee in Germany, discussing his views on German migration, integration, and the AfD’s narratives regarding Middle Eastern politics. (Photo: Muhammad Ibrahim, December 2024)

Almassian’s support for the far-right AfD is part of a larger pattern. Recent studies reveal a striking trend: voters with migrant backgrounds, like Almassian, are increasingly supporting the AfD, with some regional elections, such as the 2018 Hessen election, showing migrant support rates (14 percent) slightly surpassing those of native-born Germans (13 percent). This phenomenon, while not yet widespread, is particularly notable among specific groups, such as Russian-Germans and individuals of Turkish descent, who are the object of the AfD's tailored outreach efforts, including Russian-language campaigns and messaging that aligns with conservative and nationalist sentiments. Despite the party’s staunchly anti-immigration and nationalist rhetoric, these developments highlight its ability to strategically court disillusioned voters within migrant communities, reflecting broader socio-political shifts in Germany.

In recent months the AfD has been pushing the limits of their rhetoric regarding immigration, shocking many. The party’s candidate for chancellor, Alice Weidel, enshrined the term “remigration” as a policy prerogative at the party’s January 2025 summit in Riesa. This concept has been widely condemned as a euphemism for forced expulsion and mass deportations and is widely used in right-wing extremist circles. Critics, including the jury that labeled it the “Unword of the Year 2023,” have denounced the policies it represents: During the AfD’s party meeting in January, delegates added further anti-immigration proposals to their party program, including the cancellation of permanent residency for asylum seekers after ten years, the replacement of monetary social benefits with in-kind assistance, and the reduction of aid for individuals required to leave Germany to what the party terms a “humane subsistence level.”

A digital graphic by the AfD features an airplane in mid-flight with the slogan *"Remigration ist das Gebot der Stunde"* (Remigration is the order of the day) prominently displayed, emphasizing the party's push for strict repatriation measures as part of its platform. (Source: Official website of AfD Fraktion Brandenburg)

Amid mounting public frustration over housing shortages, job insecurity, strained social security systems, and inflation, the AfD’s promises of swift solutions are resonating with a growing number of disillusioned voters, including those with migrant backgrounds. The paradox is glaring: a party rooted in exclusionary, nationalist policies increasingly finds success in courting individuals it simultaneously marginalizes. Through strategic use of social media, cultural narratives, and influencers, the party is extending its influence into communities once considered firmly out of reach.

Germany’s electorate is also shifting, with approximately 7.1 million eligible voters now identifying with a migration background—12 percent of the total, up from nine percent in 2013. This increase, which can be connected to legislative changes and increased naturalization, underscores the growing political significance of this demographic. Notably, the AfD is leveraging its historical ties with specific migrant communities, such as Russian-German, to cultivate deeper networks of support. This approach highlights the party’s calculated efforts to broaden its base while navigating the paradox of appealing to voters it also antagonizes and stigmatizes.

“We're not trying to get rid of the integrated ones”

On a gray December afternoon in Berlin’s Marzahn-Hellersdorf, the district’s AfD leadership gathers on the ninth floor of a stark, brutalist office tower. Inside, Sergej Henke, an 84-year-old former Soviet citizen and active AfD member, sinks into a white leather armchair while Jeannette Auricht, chairwoman of the local AfD group, arranges blue banners emblazoned with the party’s logo.

Henke reflects on his life with a wistful tone. “The Germany we all used to love no longer exists,” he laments, his nostalgia echoing the sentiments of many older voters in the Russian-German community. In a strategy that is central to its growing appeal, the AfD has tapped into this yearning for a perceived lost past, blending nationalist rhetoric with cultural narratives that resonate deeply with this demographic.

Sergej Henke and Jeannette Auricht, AfD politician, engage in a discussion at the party's Marzahn-Hellersdorf office about the role of the party and its approach to migration issues. (Photo: Gaia Guatri, December 2024)

Marzahn-Hellersdorf, on Berlin’s northeastern edge, is characterized by Soviet-era apartment blocks and a Russian-German community that made up 3.1 percent of the district's population in 2022, according to the district office. The AfD has gained significant traction in this area, reflecting broader political shifts. In the June 2024 European elections, the party secured 25.3 percent of the vote in Marzahn-Hellersdorf, becoming the district’s leading political force.

“The AfD’s simplistic and often divisive rhetoric of “good” vs. “bad” migrants appeals not only to native Germans but also to migrants who feel overshadowed despite their efforts to assimilate. A 2022 study...found that the AfD has strategically capitalized on socio-economic frustrations and intra-community tensions, particularly among groups like Russian-Germans, using these grievances to broaden its voter base and appeal to disillusioned individuals across diverse demographics. ”

Henke challenged the narrative that the AfD is an anti-immigrant party, instead framing the party as sympathetic to immigrants who respect German values and culture. “We don’t want to kick anyone out… but the people who are well integrated, who have found work here, who acknowledge this country, who say ‘I like it here and share the values and the culture’...We're not trying to get rid of them.”

Henke’s opinion, however, does not fully square with the AfD’s own messaging on immigration issues. For example, the party’s embrace of the term ‘remigration,’ historically linked to right-wing extremist groups, suggested an idea of mass expulsion and deportation that is much broader than what Henke seemed to be advocating. In November 2023, AfD members attended a covert meeting where far-right activist Martin Sellner proposed deporting asylum seekers, legal immigrants, and "non-assimilated" citizens. Although the AfD hasn’t officially endorsed this, several leaders like Katrin Ebner-Steiner have advocated for "Remigration instead of integration," which raises ethical questions about migrant classification and authority.

The rhetoric of “good” and “bad” migrants

Walking through the streets of Marzahn-Hellersdorf, the sight of German national flags fluttering against a backdrop of Soviet-era apartment blocks is unmistakable. These visuals, combined with conversations overheard in local shops and parks, paint a picture of a district grappling with deepening socio-economic discontent.

Residents speak candidly about rising living costs, stagnant wages, and the lingering impacts of the pandemic, developments which have left many feeling forgotten. The AfD has capitalized on these frustrations, weaving narratives of "good" versus "bad" migrants to channel discontent into cultural divisions and political loyalties. This district, where national pride intertwines with economic despair, has become fertile ground for the far-right party, solidifying its foothold and redefining political dynamics in Berlin’s outskirts.

A couple out for a walk pauses to observe a German national flag draping from the balcony of a Soviet-era housing block in the eastern neighborhood of Marzahn-Hellersdorf. (Photo: Gaia Guatri, December 2024)

Mark (a pseudonym), a German citizen of Russian descent in his 20s from Marzahn-Hellersdorf, reflects a growing trend among migrants supporting the far-right AfD. He points to the struggles of working-class families to make ends meet—paying for rent, bills, and food—while perceiving that migrants receive disproportionate government support. This sentiment highlights a key driver of AfD support: economic disillusionment paired with resentment over perceived inequalities.

The AfD’s simplistic and often divisive rhetoric of “good” vs. “bad” migrants appeals not only to native Germans but also to migrants who feel overshadowed despite their efforts to assimilate. A 2022 study jointly conducted by the University of Duisburg-Essen, the University of Düsseldorf, and the German Centre for Integration and Migration research found that the AfD has strategically capitalized on socio-economic frustrations and intra-community tensions, particularly among groups like Russian-Germans, using these grievances to broaden its voter base and appeal to disillusioned individuals across diverse demographics.

The AfD’s influence now extends beyond traditionally working-class districts like Marzahn, gaining traction in multicultural neighborhoods across Berlin and beyond. This growing support among diverse communities reveals a set of contradictions and shifting political alliances at the national level.

A vote distribution map highlighting the AfD’s vote share (in percent) and prominence in Berlin’s respective neighborhoods during the June 9, 2024 European elections. 25.3 percent of voters in the Eastern district of Marzahn-Hellersdorf voted for the AfD. (Image: Franziska Gömmel/Wahlen Berlin)

The AfD has found significant support in Berlin's outer districts like Marzahn-Hellersdorf and Lichtenberg, former East German areas that are home to sizable working-class populations. These neighborhoods, shaped by the legacy of the German Democratic Republic (DDR), are now key strongholds for the far-right party.

Berliners share their thoughts on the rise in popularity of the AfD. (Photos: Muhammad Ibrahim, December 2024)

This local trend aligns with the AfD’s national rise. According to the latest "Sunday question" survey poll hosted by the Allensbach Institute, published on January 23, 2025, the AfD maintains 20 percent of the national vote share, second to the dominant status-quo Union parties, the Christian Democratic Union of Germany and Christian Social Union of Bavaria, reflecting its growing presence across Germany.

The AfD’s digital dominance

According to a 2024 study conducted by University of Potsdam, the AfD is exceptionally effective on platforms like TikTok, enjoying a nearly eight-fold advantage over their political competitors in social media visibility amongst first-time voters despite being only the fifth-largest parliamentary group. The study highlights the AfD’s remarkable success in attracting and retaining young voters between the ages of 16 and 24. Notably, the party’s youth vote share tripled between the 2019 elections and the most recent 2024 European elections.

The AfD outpaces classic parties such as the CDU (Christian Democratic Union) and SPD (Social Democratic Party of Germany) in engagement on platforms such as TikTok, leveraging its digital dominance to connect with younger audiences. (Source: Potsdam Social Media Monitor 2024)

In comparison, traditional parties have struggled to adapt their messaging to these digital spaces, leaving a gap in engagement with younger voters.

Alice Weidel, the AfD’s Chancellor candidate, has amassed over 700,000 followers—nearly triple the 260,000 followers of current Chancellor Olaf Scholz.

Interviews with Berliners revealed mixed reactions to the AfD’s digital presence on Facebook, TikTok, and Instagram. Some saw it as alarmingly effective, while others dismissed it as manipulative or disingenuous. Regardless, the party’s ability to engage disillusioned young voters in these digital spaces continues to reshape the way politics is practiced and experienced in the country.

Anti-liberalism and the rise of traditional values: a common enemy unites migrants and the AfD

The alignment of some individuals with migration backgrounds toward Germany’s AfD often hinges on a shared ideology of anti-liberalism, observes Sascha Ruppert-Karakas, political science researcher at Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München. During an interview in his office at the university in Munich, he explains that this worldview thrives on constructing a common adversary, emphasizing that targeting an "other" is key to forming an identity. He also emphasizes that this anti-liberal perspective transcends ethnicity or nationality.

As Ruppert-Karakas points out, the AfD often simplifies problems by scapegoating specific out-groups, a strategy which reflects a broader adoption of divisive narratives even among individuals with migrant backgrounds.

“Right now, Germany stands at a pivotal moment. The forces driving the AfD’s appeal are not just political—they tap into deeper anxieties about identity, belonging, and the future...As the AfD’s narratives continue to reshape public discourse, the question lingers: Will Germany confront these paradoxes or allow them to define its future?”

Another key element of the AfD's appeal to some migrants lies in its alignment with traditional values, both within Germany and in the countries of origin of many migrant communities. "We value traditions and religious principles, which resonate more with conservative migrant communities than progressive Germans," affirmed Auricht, an AfD representative.

This intersection of traditional values, anti-liberalism, and the search for a unifying cultural identity taps into a broader populist narrative that is reshaping politics across the globe. From Europe to the Americas and beyond, similar themes are being exploited to deepen divides, foster polarization, and create cultural flashpoints. The AfD’s success in leveraging these dynamics reflects a global trend where populist movements capitalize on societal fractures, using tradition and a shared "common enemy" to consolidate power.

As these divides grow sharper, the need for collective political education and vigilance becomes increasingly urgent. Understanding and addressing these surging socio-political and cultural tensions worldwide is critical to counteracting the forces of polarization and fostering more inclusive democratic discourse.

A call for political education: confronting the rise of the AfD

The rise in popularity of the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) amongst migrant voters is more than a political anomaly—it’s a stark reflection of the socioeconomic and cultural fractures reshaping German politics. But the party’s ascent may provoke a much needed discussion about a set of uncomfortable questions: How can a society reconcile tradition with modernity, inclusion with exclusion, and stability with the inevitability of change? These are not just political challenges—they strike at the core of the nation’s social fabric.

In order to counter the AfD’s growing influence, Ruppert-Karakas advocates for a deeper, transformative approach to political education. “We need to understand their discourses,” he argues. “We need to find new ways of political education, which is not only based on spreading facts. We need something like, how to be more resilient with your emotions, how not to be affected by narratives that are catching you so fast that you feel like you have to feel betrayed.” He further stresses the importance of critical media literacy and an ability to see through the simplistic solutions offered by far-right rhetoric.

Right now, Germany stands at a pivotal moment. The forces driving the AfD’s appeal are not just political—they tap into deeper anxieties about identity, belonging, and the future. For those with a migrant background, like Almassian, navigating life between acceptance and alienation is more than just politics—it permeates every aspect of one’s life. His journey captures the contradictions at the heart of Germany’s political landscape: a refugee aligning with a party that campaigns against refugees, an outsider embracing a movement built on exclusion.

As the AfD’s narratives continue to reshape public discourse, the question lingers: Will Germany confront these paradoxes or allow them to define its future?