October 14, 2025
Home » A tale of two German cities
munster-gorlitz-1200z675

Posted by Thomas Klikauer

This is a tale of two German cities. One city – Görlitz – is situated in East-Germany. The other – Münster – lies in the West. Görlitz has become a stronghold of Germany’s neo-fascist AfD. Its western counterpart is governed by Germany’s environmentalist Green Party.

Meanwhile, in Görlitz, something akin to a cult of frustration seems to be taking hold. For many, Görlitz is not just a city. It’s a feeling – and that feeling is often called: frustration.

But this is not a rebellious or disobedient kind of frustration. It carries connotations of resentment. It’s a quieter form – one that has slipped silently into the everyday life of East-Germany. One that cannot be left behind anymore. Many don’t even want to leave it anymore.

In daily life in Görlitz, one stumbles again and again across phrases heard all over town:

  • “Those up there are the worst.”
  • “Those stupid Wessis.”
  • “Forget about the old parties.”
  • And disparaging reference to Germany’s democratic political establishment

Worse: arguments no longer penetrate. Instead, an armor of bitterness has formed – forged over decades of insult, broken promises, and the traumas of abrupt shifts toward western capitalism, turbocharged by neoliberalism.

Many of these injuries haven’t healed. Quite the opposite: they fester. They are real. They are deep. And they need recognition.

People lost much – some even their entire identity. The collapse of a nation often coincides with the collapse of one’s own biography. When ideas fall, the inner self collapses with them.

Western capitalism struck East-Germany like flesh-eating locusts, driven by neoliberal fervor. And yet, even 36 years later, there has never been a proper public reckoning.

After all, the dominant ideology remains neoliberalism, and in media capitalism, criticism of it is almost taboo. It is a hallmark of neoliberalism to eliminate all conceivable alternatives under its TINAThere Is No Alternative – doctrine.

Instead, we get superficial and phony discussions – often deflected by the endless distractions of a media circus spiced with silly entertainment.

But these injuries can’t be healed by individual strength alone. That’s understandable. It is deeply human. Despite the dominant ideologies of competition and the racist dogmatism of the AfD – which pits Germans against migrants – humans remain social beings. We depend on community and mutual recognition, not on the eternal treadmill of competition and hate.

Some people never treat their wounds. They take the scars of forced, top-down unification with them to their graves. They no longer engage with their democratic republic. No matter what politicians say or promise, it will never be enough. Democracy becomes a project for someone else.

These are ripe pickings for the authoritarian AfD.

For many who once played along with the former non-democratic regime, the experience of the rules changing again only pushes them further toward right-wing extremism. 

Current politics is seen not as a path forward, but as a ritualistic devaluation of the so-called “old” (read: democratic) parties and anything “progressive” or “environmentally minded.”

Worse, this rejection is spiced with full-on devotion and romanticization of the far-right AfD, alongside a deep yearning for the past – Ostalgia, the merger of nostalgia and the East (Osten).

Almost everything is viewed with suspicion – especially anything proposed by the government. It’s all framed as giving “those fools” too much freedom.

And here lies the real success of AfD propaganda: followers forget their own claim to be “critical thinkers.” They refuse to recognize the rotten, racist core of the AfD – no matter how clearly it reveals itself.

Worse still, all hope is pinned on the fascists. And that is the political tragedy: history has already shown this path leads nowhere. Auschwitz was no solution.

Just like Hitler’s party, the AfD doesn’t need to offer solutions. It doesn’t need coherent policies. Resentment and a we versus them narrative are enough.

The frustrated in Görlitz are harvested like ripe fruit. All of this is known. And yet – it’s happening. Again. And more terrifying: it works – so efficiently that one could freeze in awe at the ideological power of this mechanism.

Germany’s Nazis and today’s AfD seem to follow a gloomy law of nature – right up to the bitter end.

Meanwhile, in Görlitz, one can read striking self-reflections. A seemingly harmless question in a local Facebook group – “What is typical Görlitz?” – reveals much:

  • a tourist city;
  • young people looking elsewhere because they’re not offered anything;
  • it’s crazy how negative everyone is;
  • everyone is complaining about everything;
  • being against it;
  • when it comes down to it, we keep silent and just nod.

These are just a few. Many took the opportunity to prove what they describe – they complained. One Görlitzer summed it up:

“Kebab stalls without end, brawls, children aged twelve drinking …

in the evening, even walking from the train station to Postplatz is dangerous.”

Thirty-five years after reunification, Görlitzers do not seem happy with what they’ve received. Thankfully, evil socialism ended in 1990. And now? Now things are so much better.

Yes, there are other voices. Those who see the positive. And there are plenty. But they are too often quiet.

The dominant mode is one of discontent. Görlitz, located at Germany’s easternmost point, feels remote and isolated. Many here are deprived of experiencing anything different from what they’ve known for decades – an inbred culture of the eversame.

Not surprisingly, left to themselves, locals focus on anything other. Migrants become projections for every complaint Görlitzers can think of. It’s a convenient deflection.

This proximity to far-right ideology is palpable. Neo-Nazis and the AfD no longer even disturb anyone – quite the opposite. Görlitzers ennoble them.

Using migrants as scapegoats is not new. For AfD followers, being a neo-Nazi is not a deal-breaker – it’s a seal of trust.

This vents frustration but also divides the city – and society. Görlitzers today fall into three groups:

  1. The frustrated – radicalized by the neo-fascist AfD.
  2. The socially engaged – resisting authoritarianism, slowly burning out.
  3. The petty bourgeois – promoting Görlitz as a place of wine, handicrafts, and culinary culture.

The third group avoids talking about Neo-Nazi violence, fear, or looming political abysses. It’s the socially engaged and middle class who move the city forward. They host events, foster dialogue, and spread positivity.

Group one, meanwhile, suffocates in its far-right echo chamber of Facebook groups, TikTok channels, Telegram chats, and the like. They’re loud. And unforgiving.

Their Monday marches parade through Görlitz like street thugs. They present themselves as the last bastion in an eternal fight of “us versus them.” Their stupidity lets them believe so-called “alternative” facts and media – even when those facts contradict their own beliefs.

For instance: their adored Adolf Hitler was Austrian – yet no one objected when he talked about “Greater Germany.” Propaganda bridges all contradictions.

Just like AfD’s supposed East-German champion – who is, in fact, a Wessie: Björn Höcke. Or their next Führer in line, Alice Weidel – a lesbian living in Switzerland. No contradiction here seems to matter.

It’s not out of the question that the AfD’s current Gauleiter – militarist and conspiracy-theorist Sebastian Wippel – could become Görlitz’s next mayor. Like many far-right figures, he preaches “freedom of speech” but deletes and blocks all critical voices on social media.

He is not trying to unite Görlitz. He’s doing the opposite. And that may well be the future of this city.

Meanwhile, in Münster, the picture couldn’t be more different. Nowhere is the AfD weaker, nowhere are the Greens stronger. Perhaps Germany could learn something from Münster.

In the last election, Tilman Fuchs of the Greens distributed campaign flyers in front of the local cathedral. He won the mayoral race with 58%.

Even the AfD man in Münster comes by bike – from a party that denies climate change, despises the Greens, and sees environmentalism as conspiracy.

That man – Helmut Birke – may be Germany’s most unsuccessful far-right candidate. He won just 4.5%. No seat in city council. “We wear this with composure,” he said, smiling in agony.

Yet, across the state of North Rhine-Westphalia, the AfD is growing. In Gelsenkirchen, it reached almost 30%.

But not in Münster. Here, there are virtually no neo-Nazis. In the city council election, the Greens won 32% – more than anywhere else. Since no candidate cleared 50%, Fuchs won in the runoff against the CDU.

He became Münster’s first Green mayor. Birke – the loser – could only pose with his bicycle. A shameful act for AfD petrol-heads.

Why is the AfD so unsuccessful here? One answer lies in a clear, well-documented link: education and voting.

In short: the higher the education, the more likely someone is to vote progressive. The opposite is also true: stupid people vote far-right.

Hitler had no formal education. A failed soldier. No professional achievement. Einstein, meanwhile, was a socialist. Today’s AfD reflects that:

  • Höcke? – A mediocre former teacher.
  • Chrupalla? – no more than a simple house painter.
  • Weidel? – capable of repeating Hayek’s ideological catechism of Road to Serfdom.

Even Donald Trump admitted: “We love the poorly educated.” Neither Trump’s Republicans nor AfD are parties of Nobel winners. Their base is often what Germans call bildungsferne Schichten – educationally distant groups.

Münster, by contrast, has 60,000 university students. It is prosperous. It houses courts, insurance companies, and many state institutions. It has more women than men – women are less likely to vote for the far right.

Even in the kebab shop of Münster’s so-called problem district, customers are greeted with, “What sauce, please?” – not suspicion. Ironically, about 44% of Germans enjoy a Döner kebab at least once a month – a problem for a party that despises foreigners.

In Münster, there are simply too few problems for someone like Birke to exploit. Complaints about cobblestone streets don’t win elections.

Birke moans about “state officials” overrunning the city. But similar cities – Aachen, Bonn – have higher AfD votes. Why? Fear.

AfD support also comes from the middle class – people with homes and cars, but also anxieties. The politics of fear drives the AfD and Donald Trump alike.

Back in the ’90s, when refugees from Yugoslavia arrived, Münster’s parties agreed: no politics at the expense of minorities. Cologne followed this example recently. The far right media raged. It didn’t matter. The agreement holds to this day.

Yes, Münster has disputes. But the loud far-right voices are quieter now. The Greens walk the tightrope. Meanwhile, the police are ever-present – partly because the state’s police training school is here. Visible CCTV and a strong public presence pacify the station area.

Yet, during his campaign, the newly elected Fuchs posted: “I am pro-Asyl.” And received applause.

Münster is a bit like Berlin. A green inner ring. A conservative outer ring. But even there, the AfD can’t gain ground.

Catholicism plays a role too. Historically, Catholics were less likely to vote Nazi than Protestants. Bavaria may have birthed Hitler’s movement, but it didn’t vote for him most. Even Hitler’s Nazis had a hard time in Münsterland.

There is a kind of immunity here – against propaganda and right-wing extremism. Today, Germans don’t go to church every Sunday, but to the local sports club or fire brigade. Studies show: as public engagement declines, right-wing support grows.

In the coming years, Münster’s mayor can encourage engagement while fostering a progressive, open, and environmentally conscious atmosphere. 

On current trends, it seems extremely unlikely that Münster will ever become like Görlitz. Maybe it’s time Görlitz’s democratic parties studied Münster.

Photo: Münster and Görlitz – a tale of two cities (source: the author)

Subscribe to Cross-border Talks’ YouTube channel! Follow the project’s Facebook and Twitter page! And here are the podcast’s Telegram channel and its Substack newsletter!

Like our work? Donate to Cross-Border Talks or buy us a coffee!

About The Author

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Cross-border Talks
Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies so that we can provide you with the best user experience possible. Cookie information is stored in your browser and performs functions such as recognising you when you return to our website and helping our team to understand which sections of the website you find most interesting and useful.