Germany’s ruling class is facing a backlash after renewed efforts to outlaw the populist Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party. The left-leaning federal government has tried to paint the party as an extremist threat to democracy—but a growing number of voters are rejecting that narrative.

A recent Allensbach Institute poll of over 1,000 voters shows that 52% oppose banning the AfD, while only 27% support it. The rest remain unsure. Even among those who believe the party leans far-right, many view it as a legitimate political force—not an enemy of the state.

This is a major problem for Berlin’s political elite, especially as the AfD continues to surge in popularity and now stands as the second-largest party in the Bundestag. That distinction makes it the official opposition—a role that the ruling coalition seems desperate to undermine.

Critics argue that labeling the AfD as a “right-wing extremist organization,” as Germany’s Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution did earlier this year, is a transparent attempt to weaponize intelligence agencies to stifle opposition. That classification is now under legal review, but if it stands, it could lead to surveillance or even a full-on party ban.

Former BfV intelligence chief Hans-Georg Maaßen has slammed the move, accusing the agency of caving to political pressure. He claims the government is misusing domestic intelligence to target rivals, calling it an “unscrupulous” attack that undermines the very institutions it claims to protect.

Much of the “evidence” used to justify the extremist label reportedly comes from public remarks by AfD politicians on issues like immigration—hardly a smoking gun. But it’s been enough for former Interior Minister Nancy Faeser, who has ties to far-left activists, to push the narrative of a growing threat that must be stamped out.

Many Germans simply aren’t buying it. Even among West Germans, where AfD support is generally weaker, 67% say they know someone who supports the party—and just 5% consider those supporters “extremist.” In eastern Germany, the AfD’s stronghold, that familiarity shoots up to 88%.

Perhaps more telling, a majority of Germans believe that if the AfD were disbanded, a similar party would emerge to fill the same space—meaning the core concerns driving AfD support, especially opposition to mass migration, wouldn’t go away.

Professor Andreas Rödder of Johannes Gutenberg University issued a stark warning: banning the AfD could destroy public faith in Germany’s democratic process and risk civil unrest. Eliminating millions of votes just to secure a leftist parliamentary majority, he said, is a “sure path to civil war.”

The attempt to erase the AfD is also backfiring by further energizing its base. Voters see the attack not just as an assault on a party, but on the right to dissent. AfD leaders are already seizing on that narrative, framing themselves as the only true opposition to a bloated, authoritarian establishment.

Germany’s government may have hoped that branding its critics as extremists would preserve its grip on power. But the public seems to recognize the real threat: a democracy that silences its opponents rather than facing them at the ballot box.