On September 6, 2026, voters in Saxony-Anhalt delivered a result that Germany’s political establishment will find difficult to process. The AfD secured 44.5 percent of the vote, more than doubling its 2021 result of 20.8 percent.
The AfD is now the largest force in the Landtag by a considerable margin, holding 39 of 83 seats. Whether that will be enough to form a government remains unclear. The other parties have already restated their refusal to enter any coalition with the AfD. But the question that ought to concern Berlin is not whether the firewall holds. It is how a party that the political establishment has spent years trying to isolate became the dominant political force in an entire German state.
The answer is not simple. It cannot be reduced to any single issue. The AfD’s success in Saxony-Anhalt reflects a convergence of factors, some local, some national, some economic, some political. Each on its own might have produced a protest vote. Together, they have produced something larger: a political realignment that the mainstream parties have consistently underestimated.
Why Saxony-Anhalt?
The result is not simply a product of eastern German exceptionalism, but it cannot be understood without it. Saxony-Anhalt is a former East German industrial region whose economic base has been under pressure for decades. It is precisely the kind of place where the consequences of national policy become visible quickly and concretely. The economic transformation that followed reunification left deep scars, and many communities never recovered the stability they lost during the 1990s. The gap between east and west remains visible in wages, wealth and opportunity.
For many voters, Berlin has long been a distant capital. The promises of convergence have faded. Political and economic decisions shaped in Berlin and Germany’s western centres often appear disconnected from the realities of eastern German life. This is not a new sentiment, but it has become more concentrated and more politically significant.
The AfD has understood and exploited this distance more effectively than any other party. It speaks a language that resonates with voters who feel they have been left behind, not just economically but politically. It treats their grievances as legitimate rather than as expressions of resentment. Whether one agrees with the party’s diagnosis or not, its political effectiveness lies in its willingness to take these concerns seriously.
What AfD Voters Are Actually Voting For
One of the most common errors in interpreting the AfD’s success is to assume that every voter who supports it endorses every aspect of its programme. This is rarely how voters behave, particularly in the case of large protest parties. The AfD is a broad vehicle for multiple grievances.
Migration and security are central concerns for many voters, and the party has been more willing than the mainstream to speak about them in direct terms. But the same voter who prioritises migration may not necessarily agree with the party’s position on economic policy. Another voter may be motivated primarily by opposition to the energy transition, or by a broader sense that the political centre has failed to address the costs of its own policies.
The AfD has also been far more willing than the mainstream parties to criticise the costs of Germany’s support for Ukraine. It has questioned both the scale and the duration of that support, arguing that Germany’s resources should be directed elsewhere. This is not a position that appeals to all voters, but it appeals to enough of them to matter. In a state where higher energy costs and industrial uncertainty have become tangible realities, a party offering a different approach to Russia and energy policy has something concrete to offer voters dissatisfied with the current direction.
This is precisely what makes the AfD difficult for the mainstream to counter. It is not competing for a single constituency. It has become a vehicle for grievances about migration, security, the economy, the energy transition and foreign policy.
The Russia Question
The AfD’s position on Russia has become one of the clearest dividing lines in German politics. It has called for a reassessment of Germany’s relationship with Russia, a return to energy cooperation, and an end to military support for Ukraine. It has criticised sanctions and argued that Germany’s economic interests would be better served by restoring trade and energy ties. Alice Weidel, the party’s co-leader, argued in June that cheap Russian energy had been the foundation of “Made in Germany” and that Germany must return to that source. The party’s state manifesto speaks of the need for good economic and cultural relations with Russia and argues that the “anti-Russian policy” pursued by the establishment is not in Germany’s interest.
Russia was not the decisive issue in Saxony-Anhalt, and the election was not a referendum on Germany’s relationship with Moscow. But it would be a mistake to treat the issue as politically irrelevant. In a state where energy costs and industrial decline are tangible realities, the AfD’s approach to Russia carries an economic argument that the mainstream has largely refused to make.
The important question is not whether AfD voters are “voting for Russia”. It is that a party advocating a radically different approach to Russia has become powerful enough that Berlin can no longer treat that position as politically irrelevant. For years, the German political establishment has presented its policy towards Russia as a matter of principle, security and moral obligation. The AfD has reframed it as a matter of economic interest. Whether one agrees with that reframing or not, it has found a politically significant audience.
For years, Berlin treated the question of relations with Russia as largely settled. Saxony-Anhalt suggests that it is becoming politically unsettled again.
The Brandmauer Problem
The mainstream parties have responded to the AfD’s rise by erecting a firewall (Brandmauer). They have refused to enter any coalition with the party, and they have sought to isolate it politically. This strategy has had some success at the institutional level. The AfD is unlikely to form a government in Saxony-Anhalt despite its electoral strength.
But the firewall has not addressed the underlying reasons for the AfD’s success. It has not made the grievances disappear. It has not restored trust in the mainstream parties. It has not reduced the economic or social pressures that drive voters towards the party. If anything, it has allowed the mainstream parties to avoid engaging with the substance of what the AfD’s voters are saying.
What happens when a political firewall holds institutionally, but the party behind it becomes too large to ignore politically? The same problem applies to the issues the party represents. Berlin may refuse to govern with the AfD. It cannot indefinitely prevent millions of voters from questioning whether Germany’s current approach to energy, industry or Russia serves their interests.
The question will not disappear simply because the mainstream parties refuse to answer it.
The Meaning of 44.5%
Saxony-Anhalt is less a warning about the future than a diagnosis of the present. The high turnout tells us that voters were motivated. The result tells us what they chose. The collapse of the CDU tells us that the centre has lost the trust of a significant portion of the electorate.
Migration and ideology matter. But they do not explain 44.5 percent on their own. The result also reflects a political class that has become increasingly disconnected from the material concerns of the people it is supposed to represent.
The mainstream parties may still have the numbers to keep the AfD out of government. But they no longer have the ability to keep its agenda out of German politics. Migration, energy, industrial decline and Germany’s relationship with Russia have become politically unavoidable. The firewall may keep the party out of government. It cannot keep the questions raised by its voters outside German politics.
That is the deeper significance of Saxony-Anhalt. Russia did not have to lift a finger to gain this kind of political influence in the heart of Europe. Germany’s own economic and political choices created the space for it.
Adrian Korczyński, Independent Analyst & Observer on Central Europe and global policy research
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