Saud Bin Nauman
A party that did not exist fifteen years ago is now a political force in Germany.
The Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) polls at over 30 per cent nationally, ahead of Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s Christian Democratic Union (CDU). In the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt, its support has reached 41 per cent. For Pakistan, whose largest European trading partner is Germany, whose diaspora there numbers in the hundreds of thousands, and whose exporters depend on the EU’s GSP+ preferential trade framework, this is not a distant European story. It has direct consequences for Pakistani interests.
Germany’s importance to Pakistan is routinely underestimated. Bilateral trade, labour mobility, the continuation of GSP+ status which gives Pakistani exporters preferential access to EU markets, and Germany’s significant influence within the European Union all depend on the political direction set in Berlin. That direction is now shifting, and Islamabad can no longer afford to watch from the sidelines.
The AfD’s rise, in the writer’s assessment, is not simply the story of a party that got its tactics right. It is the consequence of a political establishment that failed its own people over many years. When Angela Merkel opened Germany’s doors to over a million asylum seekers in 2015, the pressures on housing, public services and social cohesion that followed were real. Yet Germany’s mainstream political parties spent years either denying them or responding too slowly. Olaf Scholz’s coalition then collapsed under economic stagnation, soaring energy bills and internal divisions, forcing early elections in 2025. Friedrich Merz came to power promising change and has largely disappointed.
Experts believe that the AfD has not won Germany’s trust so much as inherited its frustration, and that distinction matters, because frustration-driven support is volatile but can also prove surprisingly durable when no credible alternative emerges to address legitimate grievances.
The party’s agenda is straightforward. It demands stricter border controls, faster deportation of rejected asylum seekers, reduced irregular migration and greater German sovereignty within the EU. Its foreign policy, however, contains a telling contradiction. The AfD openly cultivates ties with Trump’s America and the broader MAGA movement, while simultaneously calling for Germany to reduce its dependence on Washington. It is a selective alignment driven by shared ideology rather than genuine partnership. On Russia, it wants relations rebuilt around German national interest, not Western solidarity. A Germany drifting from the transatlantic consensus does not just redraw European security, it changes the very conditions under which trade arrangements like GSP+ are negotiated and protected.
For Pakistanis living in Germany, the impact will not be felt equally. Those seeking asylum would face the most immediate pressure: eligibility criteria will be tightened, enforcement will grow stricter, and humanitarian exceptions will become rarer. Families pursuing reunion visas, bringing a spouse, parent, or child to Germany, should expect longer waits and more demanding procedures.
For students and skilled professionals, the outlook is more measured. Germany’s ageing population and persistent labour shortages mean qualified workers are still needed, and economic migration will not be closed off entirely. The threshold, however, will rise. A valid visa and a relevant degree will no longer be enough on their own. German language skills, steady employment and visible integration into German society have become the baseline, and Pakistanis who recognise this early will be far better placed than those who do not.
Germany is not an aberration here; it is the largest and most consequential example of a pattern spreading across the continent. From Italy, Portugal and Austria to France and the Netherlands, right-wing parties have been gaining ground for years. What makes Germany different is its weight. This is Europe’s biggest economy and its most influential voice in Brussels. When Berlin shifts rightward, European trade policy, diplomatic priorities and the conditions under which frameworks like GSP+ survive all shift with it.
How far that shift has already gone became clear this week. On Wednesday, the UN General Assembly elected Portugal and Austria over Germany for non-permanent Security Council seats, breaking a streak Berlin had held since 1987 and delivering the Merz government its most severe foreign policy defeat. Countries that had privately pledged support reportedly broke their promises in the secret ballot, a consequence, critics argue, of repeated aid cuts, Germany’s refusal to sanction Israel, and a chancellor who could not be bothered to show up at the General Assembly himself. For the AfD, this humiliation only strengthens the case it has been making all along: that Germany’s multilateral commitments deliver diminishing returns, and that the country’s future lies in looking after its own.
The AfD’s leading figures are worth knowing. Alice Weidel leads the party nationally — sharp, disciplined and entirely comfortable holding positions that would have ended political careers a decade ago. Tino Chrupalla has built the party’s base among working-class and eastern German voters who feel abandoned by Berlin’s establishment. In the east, Björn Höcke and Ulrich Siegmund represent the harder, more uncompromising face of the movement. Siegmund has made Saxony-Anhalt the focal point of the AfD’s push to become a genuine governing force rather than a protest party.
What has kept the AfD from power is the Brandmauer (firewall), a collective agreement among Germany’s mainstream parties never to govern with or depend on AfD support. That firewall is now cracking. When a single party polls above 40 per cent in a state, coalition mathematics change, and firm commitments soften under electoral pressure. The writer’s view is unambiguous on this point: the Brandmauer in its current form will not hold, and the day it falls will mark a turning point in German politics whose reverberations will reach well beyond Europe.
For Pakistani exporters counting on European market access, for families waiting on visas, for students building their futures in Germany, and for policymakers in Islamabad managing one of Pakistan’s most important relationships in Europe, the time for treating this as someone else’s problem has passed. Germany is changing, the direction is clear, and the pace is accelerating. What Pakistan needs now is not merely awareness of these shifts but a deliberate, coordinated response from its diplomats, trade officials and community leaders, before the cost of inaction becomes impossible to reverse.
—The writer is an accountant and a passionate journalist based in Munich, Germany. He has a keen interest in socio-economic and political issues. His writings frequently explore the intersections of policy, finance and cultural exchange, with a particular focus on strengthening ties and fostering dialogue between Pakistan and Germany.
