BERLIN — Protestant and Catholic church leaders across Germany are grappling with a profound sense of uncertainty and introspection following a watershed regional election in the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt. Despite months of sustained, vocal campaigns from religious institutions urging citizens to reject extremism through initiatives carrying slogans like “Vote Consciously” and “Diversity is Divine,” the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party swept to a dominant victory on Sunday, capturing nearly 44 percent of the vote.
The electoral breakthrough has sent shockwaves through Germany’s political and religious establishments. If the AfD successfully secures a governing coalition with another party—such as the far-left Bündnis Sahra Wagenknecht (BSW), or through the individual crossover of lawmakers—it would mark the first time a far-right party has led a German state government since the Nazi era. Beyond the immediate regional implications, the outcome has triggered widespread national anxiety that mainstream voters are becoming increasingly comfortable supporting a far-right platform, lowering political barriers that have stood since the end of the Second World War.
This political tremor comes at a sensitive time for the country’s democratic institutions, with upcoming elections slated later this month in the state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern and the city-state of Berlin. In those contests, the AfD has been polling strongly at 38 percent and 18 percent, respectively, underscoring how deeply populist and nationalist sentiments have penetrated various regions of Germany.
During the hard-fought regional campaign in Saxony-Anhalt, the AfD focused heavily on anti-immigrant messaging, frequently linking foreign nationals to rising crime rates. The party’s platform outlines a stringent approach to immigration, including proposals to compel asylum-seekers to work, rapidly deport individuals whose asylum claims are rejected, downplay Germany’s historical responsibility for its Nazi past in school curricula, and segregate children with disabilities from their non-disabled peers.
Despite religious leaders speaking out from pulpits and community centers, the party’s message found significant traction among churchgoers. Protestant Regional Bishop Johann Schneider, who resides in the Saxony-Anhalt city of Halle, noted that his church actively encouraged democratic participation ahead of the vote. However, exit polling and demographic analysis revealed that roughly 32 percent of Catholic voters and 33 percent of Protestant voters cast their ballots for the AfD.
Reflecting on the results, Bishop Schneider admitted the sobering reality facing religious communities. “Now, we have to say, ‘Oh, that’s not so good,’” he remarked.
While the share of church members supporting the AfD remained well below the party’s near-44 percent overall total, the high level of backing among professing Christians has left religious authorities deeply concerned. Bishop Schneider pointed out that the voting patterns reflect broader demographic and socio-economic challenges in the region. Most members of his congregation are over the age of 60, and the city of Halle struggles with a notably low average income. Protestants make up approximately 10 percent of Saxony-Anhalt’s population, while Catholics account for just three percent.
Beyond economic grievances, Bishop Schneider suggested that the AfD successfully addressed a deep-seated human need for connection and belonging. “They had success in creating a feeling of ‘we are together,’” he explained, noting that this sense of collective identity resonated particularly well in rural communities feeling left behind by urban centers.
This analysis is echoed by Christoph Maier, director and head of studies of theology and politics at the Protestant Academy of Saxony-Anhalt. Maier argued that the AfD has forged a powerful common identity by marginalizing minority groups and dissenting viewpoints, effectively advancing a worldview that runs counter to core Christian teachings. During the campaign, Maier faced recurring questions from parishioners questioning whether the church had crossed a line by becoming too politically active. His response turned the premise on its head, asking instead: “Is it possible that the AfD has become too religious?”
For Maier, the political movement operates functionally as “a religious movement without any sense of God,” building solidarity through exclusion and the devaluation of vulnerable populations.
For Catholic Deacon Christoph Tekaath, also stationed in Saxony-Anhalt, the situation made it imperative for the church to take a public stand, guided not by partisan political alignment, but by foundational Christian values such as charity, solidarity, and human dignity.
“For me, the key point is this: the church should not be party political. But it must be political when human dignity and the foundations of our common life are at stake,” Tekaath said. “When people are devalued or excluded because of their origin, religion or way of life, the church cannot simply remain neutral.”
The German Catholic church has increasingly made its voice heard on these issues. In 2024, the country’s bishops’ conference issued a unanimous declaration explicitly stating that ethnic nationalism is fundamentally incompatible with Christianity. Meanwhile, Magdeburg Bishop Gerhard Feige has spent years publicly condemning right-wing extremism, even participating directly in anti-extremism demonstrations.
Tekaath observed that the institutional church’s engagement during this election cycle was notably more intense than in previous years, characterized by a unified front of Christian organizations collaborating under the banner of conscious voting. Yet, he emphasized that the most challenging work lies ahead—requiring church communities to engage directly with citizens holding differing views rather than erecting ideological walls, while steadfastly refusing to compromise on core convictions or condone inhumane ideologies.
At the same time, the churches themselves find themselves in a precarious position. The AfD has previously signaled its intention to eliminate state funding for both Protestant and Catholic institutions if it gains sufficient power. While Bishop Schneider expressed concern over such proposals, he noted that dismantling established financial frameworks in Germany’s heavily legalistic system would present significant legal hurdles.
Should state funding be successfully curtailed, however, the primary casualties would likely be the vital social services churches provide to the wider community—such as the counseling programs Bishop Schneider’s church runs for women escaping abusive domestic relationships.
“Germany is a very legalistic country and if you don’t know your rights, you are lost,” Schneider said. Pointing to the absence of alternative safety nets, he added, “Who is interested in women in need? No one… Only the church.”
Schneider believes that the church has frequently been cast as a convenient political scapegoat, made more vulnerable by declining membership figures and a shifting cultural landscape. “Churches are a good example to be blamed, because we are so ‘irrelevant’ in society,” he observed, pointing to a rising local colloquialism that captures the growing social alienation of believers: “Are you normal or are you Christian?”