In the stunned aftermath of the German elections, a contest that during the campaign had been almost universally dismissed as so dull even the Russians couldn’t be bothered hacking it, all eyes have been on the early insights from the exit polls surveying AfD voters, who have propelled the far-right party into the Bundestag for the first time.
The German exit poll tells us not just how people voted but their motivations for doing so, and the data presents an increasingly familiar picture: mainly men, concentrated in one geographical area—this time, the East—who are not particularly economically anxious, but extremely culturally sensitive to immigration.
It is now well-established that community-level concerns about immigration relate not just to the size of the migrant population but also the pace of demographic change. The concerns are both practical—such as impacts on public services—and social in nature; focus groups in these areas often reveal a sense of transformation “overnight,” in which citizens say they can feel “like a stranger in my own country.” Of course, many citizens with scarce interaction with people from different ethnic and religious backgrounds also carry anxieties about immigration, linked to a more diffuse sense of cultural dislocation.
In Germany, the citizens tempted by the AfD whom I have come across over the past year are, as you would expect, outraged about the migration crisis and would undoubtedly like to see a reduction in immigration numbers across the board. But their anger is not simply directly towards the newcomers themselves, many of whom they appreciate are simply making the most of opportunities they have been given.
“Around 60 per cent of AfD supporters cast their vote in rejection of ‘all other parties.’”Rather, their grievances fall squarely at the feet of Angela Merkel and her government, whom they accuse of corrupting parliamentary processes through taking unilateral action without public consultation. Linked to this, is a visceral feeling that all public debate, and certainly dissent, around the migration crisis has been suppressed by the establishment—politicians and the media alike—in a kind of elite conspiracy to prioritise institutional power over social cohesion.
They rail against the homogeneity the government projects about the million new German arrivals—that no distinction is made between asylum-seekers and economic migrants, that any involved in criminal activities are portrayed as extremely rare exceptions, that all hold the potential to be socially and economically integrated if enough taxpayer money can be spent.
This sense of a crushing loss of faith in Germany’s ruling elites explains why the exit polls suggest around 60 per cent of AfD supporters cast their vote in rejection of “all other parties.” But to dismiss the entirety of these voters as motivated solely by racism is to sacrifice opportunities to address their concerns and encourage them to find hope again in mainstream parties that practice constructive policy-making. Similarly, to only focus on their objectives to immigration is to miss other pathways to re-engagement.
"AfD voters don’t necessary want to go back—but they definitely want to stop the ride"Consistent among the far-right voters I have observed and spoken with in focus groups across Western Europe over the past year, is the expression of both an acute feeling of stress, and a profound sense of fear. They speak of a world becoming increasingly difficult to navigate, in which economic forces are invisible and political workings unknowable.
At the heart of these stresses is a level of “change fatigue,” as they face constant demands and pressures to adapt to new technologies, experiences, social relations and cultures. The crux of their fear is a fundamental inability to imagine what their country will look like in the future, and whether they will have a place in the pecking order; they certainly have a hunch that they won’t be at the top.
Feeling short-thrifted and anxious about the coming decades can induce the warm glow of nostalgia to pull at the heart strings—and its more dangerous manifestations can be expressed in a desire to build new exclusive parameters of belonging, identity and citizenship. But not every voter lured by far-right populist parties carries this restorative impulse. Many recognise, even begrudgingly, that their living standards have improved. Perhaps they would have been unable to enjoy many of the freedoms they now enjoy, if they are women for instance. They don’t necessary want to go back—but they definitely want to stop the ride.
Exit polls suggest a large number of voters that abandoned the Grand Coalition in this election went to the AfD; similarly, the party was able to lure a considerable percentage of non-voters to the polling booths. After an astonishingly turbulent term, which has tested the social stability of Europe’s “engine of growth,” Merkel should recognise that there is no inevitability in the loyalty of these citizens—and every opportunity to win them back. The first step is to listen.
