Do We Really Need to Trust the AfD?
Over the past months, I have repeatedly come across the same statement:
“You simply can’t trust the AfD.”
It is usually expressed with great conviction, often as if the discussion ends there.
That statement made me pause.
Not because I want to defend the AfD.
Nor because I want to persuade anyone to vote for it.
But because I wonder whether trust is the right category when we talk about democratic elections.
Two Understandable Perspectives
Those who are deeply critical of the AfD may fear that it could damage democratic institutions or even undermine them permanently. Given Germany’s history, such concerns are neither surprising nor something to dismiss lightly.
Those who vote for the AfD—or who understand why others do—may respond quite differently.
They might ask:
“Why should I have to trust a political party at all? I’m not electing it for eternity.”
At first glance, that seems like a perfectly reasonable question.
It reflects a particular understanding of democracy:
That elections are not final decisions.
They are decisions that can be revised.
For that reason, I believe both perspectives deserve to be taken seriously before we move any further.
What Was Democracy Actually Designed For?
Perhaps it helps to take a step back.
Representative democracy was not created because people place unlimited trust in those who govern them.
It was created because power is fallible.
That is why we have elections.
That is why we have political opposition.
That is why power is divided.
That is why courts are independent.
That is why the press is free.
That is why power is distributed across different levels of government.
All of these institutions ultimately serve the same purpose:
To ensure that the functioning of the state does not depend on trusting particular individuals or political parties.
Democracy is therefore not a system designed for perfectly trustworthy people.
It is a system designed for fallible people.
The Real Strength of Democracy
Democracies do not always make the right decisions.
They can make mistakes.
They can produce poor governments.
They can produce majorities that later turn out to have been wrong.
Their true strength does not lie in avoiding mistakes altogether.
It lies in being able to correct them peacefully.
Governments can be voted out of office.
Majorities can change.
Political directions can be reversed.
The defining principle of democracy is not infallibility.
It is corrigibility.
Why This Debate Is So Difficult
This is where the real tension begins.
Many people are no longer convinced that every political development remains reversible.
They fear that democratic institutions themselves could be weakened or even dismantled.
That is not an irrational concern.
It is deeply shaped by history.
For precisely that reason, it deserves to be taken seriously.
But it also changes the question.
The central issue is no longer whether a particular party can be trusted.
The question becomes whether our democratic institutions are strong enough to limit power, enable peaceful transfers of power, and defend the rules on which democracy itself depends.
That is a more demanding question.
And perhaps the more important one.
Trust and Democracy Are Not the Same Thing
I have the impression that political debates increasingly revolve around trust.
Perhaps this is one reason why so many conversations reach a dead end.
Someone says:
“I don’t trust that party.”
They are talking about a political actor.
Someone else asks:
“Can our democratic system still correct the mistakes of a problematic government?”
They are talking about the political system.
Both questions matter.
But they are not the same question.
If we confuse them, we easily end up talking past one another.
Why This Distinction Matters to Me
I did not write this essay to argue for or against the AfD.
I wrote it because I increasingly feel that we often rush to answers before we have properly understood the question.
Perhaps we do not need to trust a political party in order to vote for it—or against it.
Perhaps our real democratic responsibility is something else:
To build, preserve, and protect institutions that keep political decisions fundamentally correctable.
That shifts our attention away from the question,
“Can I trust this party?”
towards another:
“Can I trust our democracy to cope with difficult political choices?”
Closing Thought
Democracy does not require us to agree on whom to vote for.
Nor does it require us to share the same political convictions.
It asks something different.
It asks us to distinguish between our political preferences and the constitutional rules that allow us to reconsider those preferences again and again.
Perhaps democratic maturity begins exactly there.
Not with unlimited trust.
But with a shared commitment to preserving the possibility of peaceful correction.