In a move that’s shaking up German politics, the city-state of Bremen has officially called for the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party to be outlawed—marking the first formal attempt by any German region to ban the controversial group.
Led by Mayor Andreas Bovenschulte, Bremen’s governing coalition of Social Democrats, Greens, and the Left has rallied behind a resolution urging the federal government and the Bundesrat (Germany’s upper house) to take the case to the country’s highest court. The goal: get the Constitutional Court to consider dissolving the AfD, a party that’s seen a surge in support and recently placed second in February’s federal election.
This bold step rides on the heels of a recent bombshell from Germany’s domestic intelligence agency, the BfV, which branded the AfD as “far-right extremist.” The party is already fighting that designation in court, slamming it as a political hit job cloaked in legal jargon.
“We don’t want to be the ones accused of looking the other way,” said Mustafa Güngör, who heads Bremen’s Social Democratic group in parliament. He framed the AfD as a real and present danger to the democratic order. Backing up his warning, all three coalition parties signed the emergency motion in lockstep, determined to “maintain pressure” on what’s become Germany’s fastest-rising political force.
But while Bremen charges forward, not all of Germany is eager to follow. In North Rhine-Westphalia, CDU premier Hendrik Wüst warned that banning a political party should be a last resort—and only if there’s undeniable proof of efforts to overthrow democracy. Over in Bavaria, CSU leader Markus Söder echoed that skepticism, saying, “Rather than banning AfD, we must defeat it politically.”
Critics have been quick to point out Germany’s troubled past with banning parties. Earlier efforts to outlaw the openly neo-Nazi NPD failed—not because the party was innocent, but because the legal bar for banning a group in a democratic system is sky-high. Courts demand concrete evidence, not just strong rhetoric or intelligence reports.
What’s more, attempts to sideline AfD figures have already stirred backlash. In Hesse, two AfD lawmakers were abruptly dropped from a diplomatic trip to Serbia and Croatia, allegedly because their party’s “extremist” label made them unfit to represent Germany. The snub fueled accusations of hypocrisy and political discrimination.
Analysts warn that targeting parties through the courts can backfire—possibly galvanizing voters who see such bans as proof of elite overreach. In a democracy, silencing dissent through legal maneuvers might just hand the opposition a bigger microphone.
As Bremen takes the first shot in what could become a national showdown, Germany finds itself at a crossroads: how to protect democracy without undermining it in the process.
