Interview with Andreas Püttmann

Germany's far-right AfD doubles support, reshaping political landscape

Over a decade ago, the public intellectual Andreas Püttmann—drawing on Eugène Ionesco's play about the rise of totalitarianism—published a prescient essay on the looming shift in conservative circles: The Rhinoceroses Are Coming. Rooted in Catholicism himself, Püttmann has since been a vocal opponent of the rightward drift.

Mr. Püttmann, in 2015 you described the dynamics of radicalization in your conservative environment as "threatening." How do you see it today?

Püttmann: When The Rhinoceroses was published, the AfD was polling at 10 to 12 percent—today, it's double that. A quarter of society is a critical mass; political institutions are already straining under the pressure to form "unnatural" coalitions. The first opportunists are caving, including some who once staunchly opposed the AfD. That said, the far right has plateaued at a high level.

CDU General Secretary Carsten Linnemann, just before Trump's second bid for office, called his policies "truly good." Even Jens Spahn seems reluctant to distance himself from Trump. How much is Trump seen as a positive reference point?

Püttmann: Until recently, parts of the CDU flirted with a German MAGA adaptation or opportunistic deference to Trump—either impressed by his electoral wins or fearful of alienating the U.S. This kind of subservience is unworthy of Christian Democrats. In Ionesco's play, too, admiration for the rhinoceroses' strength plays a corrupting role. Right-wing populism is deeply tied to unchecked, toxic, and yet fragile masculinity. That's why I've long advocated for more women in politics—not primarily for "gender equity," but for our collective survival.

"Toxic masculinity" is an unusual term for a conservative.

Püttmann: Just look at the facts: the AfD has the highest proportion of male members. And in my circles, I see the types drawn to the party—a certain kind of masculinity that's rougher, more impulsive, less intellectually refined, and often paired with a problematic view of women. It even shows in their physical presence: the way they dress, the way they stand with legs apart. In that context, "toxic masculinity" is simply the right term.

Many now see the government as lurching right—whether in Culture Minister Wolfram Weimer's actions or Family Minister Karin Prien slashing the "Live Democracy!" program. It feels like a culture war in which the CDU has caught the AfD's bug.

Püttmann: There is an AfD-influenced faction in the CDU where "contagion" fits. I wouldn't count Prien among them. On the recent controversy: sexual diversity is a natural part of society—it doesn't need state promotion. But democracy and protection from discrimination do require public funding. Weimer's decision to withhold prizes from figures criticized by domestic intelligence likely had broader support in the CDU, including from those who usually draw clear lines with the AfD. That said, claiming a jury's vote justified cutting funds to three bookstores was dishonest.

But how real is this "contagion"?

Püttmann: CDU politicians read Nius or give interviews to Tichys Einblick. The boundaries between milieus are blurring. It's not always easy to tell what stems from the CDU's own anti-left traditions and what's opportunistic mimicry of the AfD. The planned NGO cuts? I'd interpret them as Prien facing pressure within her party to deliver on opposition-era promises. Still, I hesitate to call it pure AfD imitation—even if the far right approves.

So preserving the status quo plays no role?

Püttmann: Of course, just as in the 1930s, there are still many well-off people today whose wealth-driven selfishness has always made them primarily anti-left, and who refuse to abandon that hostility—even in the face of the new far-right challenge. To them, far-right radicals are just somewhat unruly relatives who, at their core, want the right things and finally give the left the beating it deserves. The destruction of their own prosperity by fascists—through lawlessness or war—only comes much later.

Merz long flattered Trump but adopted a more confrontational tone after the Iraq War. Where does this lead?

Püttmann: With Merz, you can actually observe a kind of learning by doing under the pressure of policy constraints and coalition realities. Despite occasional relapses—like his recent remarks in the Bundestag's question time on digital violence against women—I find Chancellor Merz an improvement over the Merz who led the parliamentary group during the traffic-light coalition years. Perhaps the unexpectedly poor election result in 2025 finally made him realize that the Union doesn't win by mimicking the AfD. Quite the opposite.

Leading Union politicians have now distanced themselves from the Church. Andreas Röder, the former head of the CDU's "Values Foundation" commission, even wants to drop the "C" from the party's name. How appealing is this idea to the CDU today?

Püttmann: Christian democratic parties have never been mere transmission belts for the churches, but they have always had to engage with the ethical benchmarks set by Christianity's legitimate institutions. In the new CDU manifesto, drafted under Röder's leadership, the two previous references to Christian social ethics were removed, religious language—God, the Church, Christianity, charity—was significantly scaled back, and a "bourgeois" secondary identity was invented. Further dilution was prevented by the party's Christian-liberal and Christian-social wings. The "C" in the name was reaffirmed by a three-quarters majority in a member survey—it's not up for debate. Whether it remains a guiding principle for political positioning is another question.

Robert Habeck says the new great political dividing line is no longer between left and right but between authoritarian and liberal. What does this mean for the Union?

Püttmann: Left and right are still relevant political categories, but today's decisive fault line runs between defenders of liberal democracy and authoritarians of all stripes. Anyone in the Union who fails to grasp that the "main enemy" is the far right—and instead fixates on attacking democratic "left-Greens"—is out of touch and heading straight into the Papen trap.

The conservative Center Party chancellor who, in 1932, paved Hitler's path to power. Today, there's frequent talk of a glass ceiling for the AfD—supposedly, around 20 percent of people have always been receptive to far-right ideas; they've just found their own party now.

Püttmann: A decade ago, the AfD was predicted to cap out at 20 percent. Now it's polling up to 26. The share of ideologically committed supporters is growing, while so-called protest voters are declining.

Do Hungary and Poland suggest the pendulum might swing back the other way?

Püttmann: Yes and no. In Poland, the initial shift was followed by a setback in the presidential election, even after PiS had undermined the rule of law. I'd rather not contemplate Britain's next general election or France's upcoming votes. Whether the U.S. midterms will even be fair is questionable. Globally, the number of true democracies is shrinking. Right now, the signs point more to a rising authoritarian age than to a successful reassertion of liberal-democratic systems. Still, politically, we mustn't succumb to despair. Instead, we should combine cognitive pessimism with habitual optimism—especially as Christians.