A battle for power is raging in Germany. 

For the first time since the Second World War, a far-right party is expected to come second in a federal election and the country is divided.

“I come from Jewish heritage so I’m really worried about the safety of my family,” says Shoshana.

“I don’t want to believe that 20% of Germany is extremist,” adds Christian.

Shoshana and Christian are among hundreds of thousands of people who have taken part in demonstrations against the far-right in the run-up to the vote on 23 February.

But if polling is correct, around 20% of voters disagree – instead believing the Alternative for Germany Party or AfD offers Germans the best future.

So in the run-up to what’s expected to be a historic result, I decided to go on a journey through the AfD heartland to find out why some German voters are turning to the far-right.

In Saxony, the tension is palpable

On a chilly February morning under a bright blue sky, we head towards Saxony, our first stop.

It’s a state around two hours’ drive from Berlin in east Germany.

The far-right AfD is holding a rally there and we want to speak to supporters to find out what’s attracting them to the party.

There are four main parties dominating the current polls.

In the lead at the moment, the conservative block is made up of the party of former chancellor Angela Merkel, the Christian Democrats (CDU), and their Bavarian Christian Social Union (CSU) allies.

Their pick as the next chancellor, and the man widely expected to get the job, is Friedrich Merz.

The Social Democratic Party (SPD) is fielding Olaf Scholz for another term as chancellor.

Their coalition partners the Greens have nominated Robert Habeck.

But the AfD is the party coming in second in most polls.

A party dogged by allegations of racism, Islamophobia and right-wing extremism, all of which it denies, is currently on track to get its best-ever results.

Its chancellor candidate is the former banker Alice Weidel, who lives in Switzerland with her wife and kids.

Under her leadership, the party has been endorsed by the world’s richest man, Elon Musk, who claimed: “You’re the best hope for Germany.”

It’s Weidel’s right-hand man, Tino Chrupalla, who’s holding the rally we are heading to, but when we arrive his opponents are ready and waiting.

A loud and agitated group of anti-AfD protesters have surrounded the building where the rally will take place.

Many wave signs accusing the party of being Nazis or fascists.

The AfD in Saxony has been officially designated as a far-right extremist group by the authorities but it’s still the state’s most popular party.

That terrifies some.

“I don’t want to have the AfD. I don’t want to live in a fascist regime,” says teacher Navina, who has joined the demonstration.

Germany’s Nazi history makes the discussion extremely sensitive.

The party rejects being called fascist, as well as opponents’ claims it will lead the country back towards a dark past.

It says it offers Germany a future.

Navina vehemently disagrees.

“They have no solutions. They just say if there’s less migration then everything will be fine,” she explains.

‘Society is so divided’

As the start of the AfD rally draws closer, the atmosphere becomes more tense.

A number of anti-AfD protesters have been hauled out of the crowd by the police and are being held by a fence.

Officers have parked a line of vans between supporters and opponents to keep them apart while covered black plastic screens have been erected to stop the two sides from seeing each other.

Even in AfD strongholds like Saxony, the tension is palpable.

Opponents know it’s unlikely the AfD will get into government as it isn’t predicted to get a majority and a so-called “firewall” against the far-right means no other party has agreed to work with it, but the fact a far-right party is polling second in Germany angers many here.

One of the key flashpoints is the debate around migration.

The AfD wants much stricter controls which would include mass deportations.

At the party conference in January, Alice Weidel spoke of “large-scale repatriations” to a delighted crowd.

“And I have to be honest with you: if it’s going to be called remigration, then that’s what it’s going to be: remigration,” she said.

Remigration is a buzzword among Europe’s far-right.

Last year, around a million Germans demonstrated after it was revealed some AfD members attended a meeting where the Austrian leader of the far-right Identitarian movement, Martin Sellner, reportedly proposed a project of “remigration” which would see “unassimilated” immigrants forced to leave Germany even if they had citizenship.

While Weidel distanced herself from the meeting, and the party has previously said it has no plans to kick out people with German passports, critics say the idea has echoes of mass deportations of the Nazi era.

Back at the protest, Richard tells me he thinks migrants are being scapegoated by the party. “It’s not a Syrian refugee’s fault that my wages are short or that crime is high,” he says.

Suddenly we are interrupted by Robert who is trying to get to the AfD rally.

It’s immediately clear just how divided voters are.

“I agree with the deportation thing because we definitely have too many foreigners and there’s too much violence,” Robert says.

He’s worried voters are so polarised that the country is heading towards “a situation of civil war”.

“Society is so divided into two parties there’s so much hate and so much violence, I have never seen a situation like this before,” he says.

‘We are being persecuted’

With that warning, we make our way into the hall where the AfD meeting is being held.

The foyer is filled with party flyers. Paper mugs bear their logo.

Upstairs, a crowd is enthusiastically listening to co-leader Tino Chrupalla’s speech.

Burly security guards keep an eye out for trouble, but aside from one heckler, the audience is adoring.

The standing ovation at the end suggests people agree with what they have heard but when we approach an audience member for an interview, he asks we keep his face hidden.

Peter tells us that he’s worried being identified as an AfD supporter could have repercussions.

“We are being persecuted by people like ANTIFA outside and they are not really democrats because they don’t accept different opinions,” he explains.

He says he is in favour of closing the borders and deporting criminals and believes Germany has become so unsafe that if nothing changes he will leave the country.

Migration isn’t what triggered the election but it’s now dominating the debate.

Just over a week before the vote, the issue was reignited when a car was driven into trade union protesters in Munich, killing a mother and her two-year-old daughter, and injuring others. The suspect is a 24-year-old Afghan national. His asylum application was rejected, but he had not been forced to leave due to security concerns in Afghanistan and he was in Germany legally with a work permit.

This was the latest in a number of alleged attacks carried out by migrant suspects.

In December, six people died and hundreds were injured after a Saudi doctor was accused of mowing down crowds at a Christmas market in Magdeburg.

The next day, as the city mourned, around a thousand members of the far-right rallied.

“Asylum seekers out,” they shouted as they marched behind a banner saying “remigration”.

Saxony-Anhalt: ‘Germany has radically changed’

Magdeburg is the state capital of Saxony-Anhalt where around 31% of voters support the AfD.

As we arrive in the city, we meet Syrian-born Zaid.

He’s lived here for more than a decade but says since the Christmas market attack a division has opened up.

He runs through a list of assaults that he’s heard of in the last few weeks – including a migrant attacked at a bus stop or one of their children assaulted in a lift.

“People are very afraid,” he says.

The AfD held their own rally in Magdeburg after the Christmas market attack.

The rally’s organisers attempted to mobilise mourners behind an anti-migrant, anti-Muslim message while inaccurately claiming the suspect was an Islamic extremist.

Satish could hear the crowd from his restaurant.

He isn’t an AfD voter but on some points, he agrees with the party’s message. “Germany is well aware that you have to integrate, you have to bring skills here,” he says. “Immigrants should not be a threat to your country, there you have to draw a line.”

Satish moved to Germany from India in 2008.

In 2015, in response to the migrant crisis, the then chancellor Angela Merkel opened the country’s doors to around a million mainly Syrian refugees.

By this point, the AfD – which had initially formed a few years earlier as a eurosceptic, anti-euro party – was increasingly using anti-migrant and anti-Islamic language as it moved further right.

Satish says Germany has radically changed in the decade since the so-called open door policy was announced.

“I won’t say it was a mistake, but it was ignorance. They were ignorant about how the people would respond,” he says.

A recent poll showed around 60% of Germans think the country should take fewer refugees.

The government reinstated temporary border checks last year and while all the main parties have hardened their stance on migration, the CDU wants to go further.

Its plans include making border checks permanent and potentially rejecting some asylum seekers on arrival.

Despite this, the AfD remains the loudest voice on stricter controls.

Like many other populist parties, the AfD is really effective at converting discontent into support.

Feeding on frustrations around migration, the economy or green policies has helped propel them up the polls.

In Thuringia, Elon Musk and Donald Trump get a special mention

No more so than in the state of Thuringia where last year the AfD was the first far-right party since the Second World War to claim victory in a state election.

The AfD is currently leading the current polls here with around 35% of the vote.

The man who helped lead them to success is Bjoern Hoecke, a former history teacher, who is now arguably Germany’s most successful far-right politician.

He’s anti-immigration, Russia-friendly and eurosceptic.

A man who once called Berlin’s holocaust memorial a “moment of shame” and has twice been found guilty of using a Nazi slogan.

A poster boy for the far-right who opponents label “dangerous” but supporters adore.

“When you have no arguments, especially in Germany, then you say Nazis,” says Carolin Lichtenheld, a member of the party’s youth wing when I put this criticism to her.

Carolin has gathered with a few hundred others in a shopping centre conference hall on a freezing Tuesday night to watch Hoecke speak.

In the foyer, party merchandise has been carefully laid out.

One table is a tribute to American and German populist icons: there’s Elon Musk’s biography, a magazine showing Hoecke, next to a couple featuring Donald Trump. The most eye-catching is an edition showing Musk dressed up as Superman carrying Alice Weidel.

The leaning towards the Trump administration is an interesting progression for a party whose supporters are often pro-Russia and anti-America.

Hoecke will later tell us that while he doesn’t know him personally, he “appreciates Donald Trump for his fight against wokeness… for his commitment to free speech”.

But before any of that, with every seat in the hall full, it’s time for the main event.

When Hoecke enters the room, cheers and applause erupt from the crowd.

For the next two hours, he and the local candidates lay out their vision for Germany.

Migration, Trump, Musk and Russia all get name-checked.

Hoecke, a man who once stood on the fringes of a fringe party, is now central to what’s likely to be the far-right’s most successful federal election since the Second World War.

After the speeches, fans queue up for selfies and autographs with Hoecke.

Many are young men and women who appear slightly starstruck.

This scene should serve as a wake-up call to anyone still questioning the power of populism.

When I put to Hoecke that his opponents call him a fascist and a racist who is a threat to democracy, he brushes it off.

He says the labels come from mainstream parties which he refers to as “a cartel”.

“They’ve merged into a cartel but now a competitor is emerging, a competitor who challenges their power,” he adds.

During his speech, he told the crowd that on the global stage, the political stars are now aligned in the AfD’s favour – with what he claims are administrations in America and Russia who support them.

It’s a new but potentially monumental message.

In the last 12 months, I’ve watched him at several rallies but in this hall, there’s a real feeling from him and his supporters that they’re on the brink of new power.

The extreme right in the ‘heart chamber of democracy’

Keeping an eye on the party’s rise is regional spy chief Stephan Kramer.

His branch of the Office for the Protection of the Constitution has classified Thuringia’s AfD as right-wing extremists.

His team monitors a range of threats – from Islamic extremists to left-wing fundamentalists – but it’s the extreme right that he views as the severest threat to German democracy.

“What we see is that the extreme right has managed to get into what we call ‘the heart chamber of democracy’ and therefore is going after the roots of our democracy in our liberal society,” he says.

The AfD, at state and local level, deny they’re extreme or a threat but Stephan believes this election is the last moment for Germany “to change direction.”

“In the last ten years, the party has grown stronger and stronger. They are still growing, although we have put out the warning signs.

“I’m not saying the Federal Republic of Germany today is the same as the Weimar Republic of 1933, but you see similarities and that are very, very threatening,” Kramer says.

There’s no doubt Germany is divided, but on one point many agree: this election is a pivotal moment in German history.

Will the AfD gain power this time? That’s highly unlikely but they may get enough seats to cause serious disruption in parliament.

And if the next government fails, then the far right could easily seize victory in 2029.