Last week, France announced that it would recognize a State of Palestine alongside Israel come September. Yesterday, Canada confirmed that they would recognize a Palestinian state as well. The United Kingdom is mulling joining them if a ceasefire is not reached in Gaza.

Is recognition of Palestine a necessary shock to the system after decades of stale thinking? Or is it a hollow gesture that puts an already-distant Israeli-Palestinian peace further out of reach?

Evan Gottesman, Renew Democracy Initiative’s director of communications and special projects, argues in favor of France’s recognition of Palestine:

The French move is part of a full court press to organize European and Arab states around a political strategy to end the Gaza war, dismantle Hamas, and subvert the untenable status quo ante in Israel and Palestine.

Read the case for recognizing Palestine.

RDI CEO Uriel Epshtein argues against the French decision to recognize Palestine:

Preemptive recognition gives the Palestinian leadership no incentive to make any of the tough decisions required to improve their capacity to govern. They can enjoy flashy ribbon-cutting ceremonies at embassies in Paris and Ottawa while their popularity plummets at home and their institutions continue to decay.

Read the case against recognizing Palestine.

Both Evan and Uriel support self-determination for Palestinians and Jews via a two-state solution. But they disagree about the tools needed to pull Israelis and Palestinians out of their deadly downward spiral.

RDI is committed to showcasing different points of view in order to sharpen our thinking and produce smarter policy outcomes. To see the logic behind our debates at The Next Move, read this note from RDI founder and chairman Garry Kasparov.

Check out the full debate:

This article is part of a debate from The Next Move. Evan Gottesman argues that French recognition of Palestine represents a much-needed shock to the system. After you read his piece, check out Uriel Epshtein’s article, which makes the case against recognizing Palestine—and let us know where you land in the debate!

Evan Gottesman is director of communications and special projects at the Renew Democracy Initiative.

If war is politics by other means, then war without a political horizon is just senseless destruction. In the nearly two years since the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023, Israel has refused to articulate a plan for the day after it removes the Palestinian terrorist group from Gaza.

Into this strategic void steps Emannuel Macron. Last week, the French president announced that his country would recognize the State of Palestine—meaning the Palestinian Authority/PLO—in the West Bank and Gaza. Now, it looks like Canada and others will join them. They are right to do so: Israel’s evasiveness means international leadership is required.

Critics quickly weighed in against Macron’s move. Some detractors dismissed it as hollow symbolism, since no Palestinian state currently exists. Israeli officials and their allies in the US have decried it as a reward for Hamas terrorism.

The French move is not just a symbolic nod, nor is it a win for Hamas. It is part of a full court press to organize European and Arab states around a political strategy to end the Gaza war, dismantle Hamas, and subvert the untenable status quo ante in Israel and Palestine by promoting a two-state solution. France has cleverly gotten Saudi Arabia, whose recognition Israel craves, to co-sign their recent initiatives.

For decades, Israel’s Western allies avoided recognizing Palestine under the pretense that it would hurt the cause of peace. The Israeli government abused that goodwill to further entrench the occupation, and it has only doubled down since October 7. While Hamas bears primary responsibility for kicking off the war with an unprecedented massacre, the terror group’s crimes are not license for Israeli conquest and settlement in the territories. With Israel intransigent and the United States passive (or worse), countries like France are going to have to step up.

Why recognizing Palestine matters now

The Israeli government has categorically ruled out restoring the Palestinian Authority in Gaza, despite the PA’s record of security cooperation in the West Bank. The PA has sustained security ties with Israel since the start of the Gaza war, even though it assumes enormous risks by doing so.

Officials in Jerusalem thanked their partners in Ramallah by mulling returning Jewish settlements to Gaza. Talk of resettling the Strip began almost immediately after October 7. Now, those ideas have Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s imprimatur—in the coming days, he is expected to propose annexing parts of Gaza.

And that’s only Gaza. With outside attention split between Gaza, Iran, and Syria, Israel is also tightening its hold on the West Bank. Last year, for the first time since the Oslo Accords, settlers established outposts in Area B—territory allocated to the Palestinian Authority under the Israel-PLO treaties of the 1990s. Israel regularly undercuts the PA’s ability to govern, withholding tax revenues and preventing the payment of civil servants.

Recognizing Palestine is a rejection of creeping Israeli annexation. It denies normalization to the Israeli occupation, putting Israel in the uncomfortable company of other countries that seize their neighbors’ sovereign territory. It’s especially urgent when the settlement machine is moving full-steam ahead.

No excuses

How does recognizing Palestine square with the Hamas threat? It’s an important question, because Hamas cannot be part of any future political solution, and anyone who talks about a Palestinian state needs to account for this.

However, rather than engage with French-led diplomacy, Israeli and American officials have defaulted to predictable non-answers. In Jerusalem and Washington, Macron’s move was decried as capitulation to Hamas terror.

Israeli foreign Minister Gideon Saar set the tone, saying of the French decision that:

It represents a reward to Hamas and terrorism in the wake of October 7.

Saar’s American counterpart, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, echoed that claim:

This reckless decision only serves Hamas propaganda and sets back peace. It is a slap in the face to the victims of October 7th.

Drawing a connection between October 7 and France’s explicitly pro-two-state initiative is risible.

Hamas’s goal is a single state, displacing Israel between the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River. Its terrorism is carried out in pursuit of this revanchist vision.

For years, Netanyahu’s government transferred Qatari money directly to Hamas in a game of divide-and-conquer aimed at rendering a Palestinian state stillborn. Back in 2019, the prime minister bragged to supporters that anyone against Palestinian statehood should back his cash-for-Hamas scheme in order to keep the PA-administered parts of the West Bank separated from Gaza. That strategy blew up with tragic results four years later.

France, by contrast, is explicitly repudiating both Hamas’s bloody one-state absolutism and reckless Israeli expansionism. In announcing recognition, the French Foreign Ministry pointed to the PA, Hamas’s archnemesis in Palestinian politics,

which has come out strongly in favor of the two-state solution and peace, strongly condemned the terrorist attacks carried out by Hamas on October 7, called for the release of the hostages, the disarmament of Hamas and its exclusion from the governance of Gaza.

When a future Palestinian ambassador presents their credentials at the Elysee Palace, it will be a representative of the PLO, not Hamas. The envoy in Paris will answer to the Ramallah-based Palestinian leadership, which recognizes and cooperates with Israel.

Meanwhile, Paris’s diplomacy has put the Arab states on the record calling for Hamas’s disarmament and an end to the group’s terror regime in Gaza—while appealing to end the ongoing war and move toward two states. In a communique drafted in New York at the end of July, France, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Qatar, and other governments declared:

In the context of ending the war in Gaza, Hamas must end its rule in Gaza and hand over its weapons to the Palestinian Authority, with international engagement and support, in line with the objective of a sovereign and independent Palestinian State.

This was the first time Arab governments collectively made such a commitment, and a dramatic step like French recognition of Palestine helped to make it possible. It’s now on France to hold them to account, but it’s significant nonetheless.

In any event, the Israeli and American excuses don’t pass the smell test. Who outside the hasbara echo chamber believes that recognizing Palestine alongside Israel in borders that Hamas doesn’t accept, under Hamas’s PA rivals, is somehow a reward for Hamas?

A diplomatic lifeline to Israel

Finally, French recognition of Palestine is actually a diplomatic lifeline to Israel.

Israel’s tenuous status as a democracy rests on a political and legal fiction that the West Bank is not a part of Israel; that the area and those who live there are simply under temporary occupation pending a future peace agreement.

This rhetorical sleight of hand confers Israel legitimacy and normalcy, as well as lucrative relationships throughout the Free World. While some may dismiss France as a bit player in international affairs, Europe is Israel’s largest trading partner, and the EU-Israel Association Agreement clearly states that “Relations between the Parties [...] shall be based on respect for human rights and democratic principles.”

The notion that the West Bank is not functionally a part of Israel contravenes both reality and Israel’s stated position on the matter. Just last week, Israel’s parliament, the Knesset, passed a resolution calling for formal sovereignty over the occupied territory. Of the 13 million people under permanent Israeli control—as defined by Israel—about three million (more, if Gaza is annexed) lack political and civil rights. There is a word for that, and it isn’t democracy.

It’s not difficult to imagine that a couple of years along this current trajectory, the debate in Western capitals will not be about recognizing Palestine and Israel, but whether to recognize Palestine or Israel. Imperfect as the two-state formula is, a solution predicated on and is infinitely less complicated, more peaceful, and more just than one based on either or. In recognizing Palestine alongside Israel, Macron is bucking the maximalism of both Hamas and the Israeli government.

France faces significant headwinds in insisting that Israel and Palestine are neighboring and not overlapping. But recognizing Palestine may be just what’s needed to jolt the world out of incrementalism and remind us that the pre-war situation was not normal. France was right to take this step, and other countries should follow their example.

Why do we do debates at The Next Move? Read this note from RDI founder and chairman Garry Kasparov.

Check out the other side of the debate:

This article is part of a debate from The Next Move. Uriel Epshtein argues that France and other countries are taking a flawed approach to peace by granting recognition to Palestine. After you read his piece, check out Evan Gottesman’s article, which makes the case for recognizing Palestine—and let us know where you land in the debate!

Uriel Epshtein is the CEO of the Renew Democracy Initiative.

Starting with France, Western countries are lining up to recognize the State of Palestine. The French, and the nations following their lead, are implicitly acting in response to the terrible situation in Gaza while Great Britain is explicitly tying recognition to a ceasefire.

The French initiative and the subsequent parade of recognition announcements are all in line with the laudable goal of a two-state solution. Even after the October 7 attacks, an outcome where the two peoples enjoy peace, security, and self-determination remains the only viable answer to a century of conflict. But the tactic of preemptive recognition is flawed because it doesn’t put pressure where it belongs: Hamas, and its enablers in Qatar.

This is not to ignore the share of the blame that belongs to Natenyahu’s government. However justified Israel’s response to the horror of October 7 was, without a clear and realistic end, its military campaign has clearly crossed into excess. And Benjamin Netanyahu’s far-right coalition has used the war in Gaza as cover to deepen settlements in the West Bank. But recognizing Palestine will not create new facts on the ground that address those problems. It will not hasten an end to the fighting nor uproot settlements.

Meanwhile, Hamas violently rejects the very existence of the State of Israel in any borders. Hamas started the war on October 7, 2023 and therefore cannot be a part of any future solution. Before an independent Palestinian state can be conceived, Hamas must be thoroughly dismantled. The Palestinian state being recognized by France is the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO)/Palestinian Authority (PA), but its record shows it is unprepared to govern. Recognition is something that usually comes at the end of the state-building process; taking that step prematurely deprives the international community of future leverage. In short, it risks an outcome that’s half-baked, with disastrous results for Palestinians and Israelis alike.

Misplaced pressure

If the goal is to end the war in Gaza and arrest the development of new settlements in the West Bank, then pressure must be applied even-handedly. There is more than one party to this conflict.

On the one side, there is Israel. As I’ve mentioned, Israel does shoulder responsibility for the humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza. While its war in the aftermath of Hamas’s attacks on October 7 was clearly a defensive one, how a free nation defends itself matters. Just because Hamas puts civilians in harm’s way and seeks to maximize the civilian death toll, does not mean Israel should help them achieve this goal.

Unlike the war in Gaza, many Israeli settlements in the West Bank have no security justification, and expansionist plans under discussion for the Gaza Strip are an insult to the memory of Hamas’s victims. Netanyahu has failed to produce a day-after proposal with clear objectives that could realistically be achieved. Benny Gantz resigned as Israel’s defense minister because Bibi lacked an endgame. All of that is worthy of condemnation.

But recognizing Palestine today implicitly rewards Hamas while pressuring one side—Israel.

We are only having this conversation because of actions taken by Hamas, a terrorist group. Its strategy is literally to double down on the suffering of the Palestinian people, holding not only kidnapped Israelis, but the entire population of Gaza as its hostages. Nearly every government, except the Iranian regime and perhaps the Russians, would like to see Hamas removed from the Palestinian political scene in any postwar scenario (one good outcome of recent French diplomacy is getting the Arab governments to say as much—though I question whether they’ll follow through on this stance).

Pressuring Hamas is more difficult than pressuring Israel. However, Hamas doesn’t act alone—it has enablers, Qatar chief among them.

Qatar actually signed on to France’s late July statement on Palestinian statehood recognition, which called for disarming Hamas and removing the group from Gaza. But we shouldn’t necessarily take their signature on this statement at face value. In 2024, Qatar reportedly kicked the Hamas leadership out of Doha—yet failed to close the terrorist group’s office there. As recently as this July, Hamas operatives apparently remained in the Qatari capital.

More absurdly still, Qatar is a formal partner of the United States, boasting the official status of Major Non-NATO Ally. It seems a strange sort of cognitive dissonance which would lead us to label a nation harboring terrorists as one of our allies. And yet, CENTCOM, one of the US military’s eleven unified combatant commands, has its forward headquarters at an airbase in Qatar. Republican and Democratic presidents alike seem to treat the Qataris with kid gloves. Some even accept lavish gifts in the form of Boeing 747s from them.

It’s all well and good to pressure the Israeli government when it goes too far. Still, it defies credulity for the US to continue to give the royal treatment to a country that hosts the primary culprits in the most destructive episode in Israeli-Palestinian history. And if the US, which has actual leverage with Qatar, can’t hold the tiny Gulf monarchy to account, then France is unlikely to enforce its verbal commitments to neutralize Hamas.

Unprepared for statehood

The natural rejoinder to these points is that France, Canada, the UK, and others aren’t recognizing Hamas. They’re recognizing the West Bank-based Palestinian Authority.

Fair enough. But the PA’s record barely only looks acceptable when compared against Hamas’s, and the bar couldn’t get much lower than that. The Palestinian Authority is corrupt and despotic. France and many of the other countries now recognizing Palestine have called for elections, likely knowing that Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas will never hold a vote because he will lose. That leads us to another problem: the PA and its octogenarian ruler are deeply unpopular. According to Palestinian political analyst Ghaith al-Omari, 87% of West Bank and Gaza Palestinians see the PA as corrupt. 78% want Abbas to step down.

It took the aging Palestinian leader months to even partially condemn the October 7 massacre. He is only offering a full-throated rebuke now because it will advance his international standing with symbolic statehood recognition.

In our imperfect world, the PLO/PA is the best partner Israel has for peace, but that doesn’t mean this is a regime ready for statehood (and since Abbas is two decades into a four-year term, I use the word “regime” with intention). Offering recognition now provides Abbas and his associates no incentive to make any of the tough decisions required to improve their capacity to govern. They can enjoy flashy ribbon-cutting ceremonies at embassies in Paris and Ottawa while their popularity plummets at home and their institutions continue to decay.

An alternative

I’m aware that up until this point, I’ve offered a lot of “no’s.” No, recognizing Palestinian statehood is not the right call now. No, Israel is not solely responsible for the current situation. No, the Palestinian Authority is not prepared to govern.

So we need to talk about the alternative.

First, there has to be pressure on Hamas via Qatar. While other countries get an A for effort for trying to fill the gap left by Donald Trump’s erratic behavior, there’s no alternative to American leadership here. Doha has a special relationship with the United States, and the US needs to hold the party that started the war to account.

Next, in calling for recognition of Palestine, France and its European and Arab state allies have compiled a list of sensible objectives. The statement they released in New York this past week affirmed the need for Hamas’s disarmament and political isolation. It called for the PA to continue good governance reforms and remove dehumanization and incitement from Palestinian school curricula.

The problem is that in kicking things off with recognition of Palestine, France put the cart before the horse. So a sensible policy might actually offer the Palestinians statehood recognition—but only after they implement these necessary reforms. As it stands, Emmanuel Macron is highly unlikely to withdraw recognition once it’s granted.

As for Bibi’s obstinance and shortsightedness, Western and Arab governments can develop their own day after plan if officials in Jerusalem can’t or won’t. Of course, they can’t force Israel to implement their ideas, but having a tangible alternative can both highlight Israeli government rejectionism and ratchet up domestic pressure on Netanyahu if a war-weary public rallies around a workable plan.

The impulse behind recognizing Palestinian statehood is understandable. But as proposed by France, recognition is impracticable, and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict defies quick fixes. Creative diplomacy will be required to turn things around. Throwing a sign on a building in the 15th arrondissement and calling it the embassy of the “State of Palestine” won’t cut it.

Why do we do debates at The Next Move? Read this note from RDI founder and chairman Garry Kasparov.

Check out the other side of the debate:

Markus Ziener is a visiting senior fellow with the German Marshall Fund of the United States and a professor of journalism at Media University Berlin.

The modern fight for democracy is a complex affair. The Next Move is proud to host this debate on the contentious question of banning extremist actors: Is it ever appropriate in a democracy—and is it even a sound political strategy? Leading German journalists examine this question through the lens of their country’s far-right Alternative für Deutschland party (AfD). After you read this overview, check out pro-ban and anti-ban perspectives and let us know what you think!

Proponents say it’s a necessary step to protect open societies. Critics argue it’s a contradiction—using undemocratic tools in the name of democracy.

That question is playing out today in Germany, where the Social Democratic Party—the junior coalition partner in the German government—recently voted to prepare for a formal process to ban the far-right AfD. In May, Germany’s domestic intelligence agency—the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV)—classified the AfD as a “proven far-right extremist” group. That doesn’t initiate a ban, but it’s a major step toward one. The BfV’s various levels of classification can open the door to state surveillance.

Germany is ground zero for this debate. But similar dilemmas are surfacing elsewhere: in Romania, where presidential election results were nullified amid Russian interference; and in the US, where the Colorado Supreme Court mulled removing Donald Trump from the 2024 ballot over January 6.

Backlash to the BfV’s classification of AfD as “far-right extremist” made its way across the Atlantic. US Vice President J.D. Vance erroneously labeled the AfD “Germany’s most popular party,” accusing “bureaucrats” of trying to “destroy it.” His response is part of a global trend: hard-right figures painting themselves as victims of elite suppression.

But alarmist takes like Vance’s ignore the legal and constitutional hurdles to banning a party in Germany. The Federal Constitutional Court can only do so under two strict conditions: there must be strong evidence of anti-democratic intent and a demonstrable effort to dismantle the democratic order.

The Debate: To Ban or Not to Ban?

Most in the German political mainstream agree that the AfD is a systemic threat—not just a typical party (and certainly not “centrist,” as Elon Musk misleadingly suggested). It promotes a racially homogenous vision of Germany, undermines judicial and administrative independence, minimizes Holocaust remembrance, and maintains ties to the Reichsbürger movement—a group that seeks to overturn the postwar republic. On immigration, the AfD has escalated from criticizing asylum policy to calling for “remigration”—a euphemism for deporting even naturalized German citizens. During the pandemic, it flipped from accusing the government of inaction to decrying public health measures as tyranny. Its economic messaging now veers into pro-Russian narratives.

Still, German leaders are divided on how to handle the threat. Chancellor Friedrich Merz of the conservative Christian Democratic Union (CDU) believes the solution lies in lowering the political temperature: improving the economy, addressing migration issues, and reducing public anger. His approach highlights the AfD’s parasitic strategy—latching onto crises and stoking resentment rather than offering solutions.

Merz and others worry that banning the AfD could backfire—validating the party’s self-image as persecuted outsiders and boosting their support. In short: persecution makes for good propaganda.

However, others argue that Germany’s past, and the AfD’s present, demand stronger action. The country has banned extremist parties before. The principle of Wehrhafte Demokratie—defensive democracy—exists for a reason. Germans, more than most, know what happens when illiberal actors are allowed to exploit liberal systems.

Ultimately, this debate won’t be resolved by court rulings or intelligence reports alone. That’s why we’re publishing this conversation between Eva Ricarda Lautsch and Heinrich Wefing, writers for Die Zeit, one of Germany’s top newspapers. Both agree on the threat the AfD poses—but diverge on how best to confront it.

This is more than a German story. It’s one that concerns democracy everywhere. In 2025, liberal systems are under strain from within and without. The task ahead isn’t just recognizing danger—it’s choosing the right strategy to face it.

At The Next Move, we believe that disagreement—honest, informed, principled disagreement—is how democracy endures. We hope you’ll read these perspectives and let us know where you land.

In favor of a ban:

In opposition to a ban:

EDITOR’S NOTE: This piece is part of a debate series that poses the question: Is it ever appropriate to ban extremist actors in a democracy? Is it overreach and political malpractice, or the proactive defense needed to stop authoritarianism before it destroys the system from the inside? Using the example of the far-right AfD party in Germany, this piece from leading German political commentator Eva Lautsch, argues in favor of a ban. Read her perspective, then read the opposing viewpoint from her colleague, Heinrich Wefing, and let us know what you think!

Eva Ricarda Lautsch is the political editor at Zeit Online, the digital edition of one of Die Zeit, Germany’s top newspapers. She studied law in Heidelberg, Berlin, and Istanbul. Eva completed her legal clerkship in Berlin and the German Embassy in Moscow. She previously worked as a legal scholar, specializing in law and democracy, and as a business lawyer.

In Germany, protecting democracy has always been a bureaucratic affair. The defense against freedom’s enemies traditionally relies less on the power of political argument and more on state authority and legal rules. This holds true to this day. Even if the enemy bears the name “AfD” and has risen to become the second-largest party in parliament.

There is, for instance, the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (Bundesamt für Verfassungsschutz or BfV), Germany’s domestic intelligence agency, which tracks and monitors threats against the constitutional order. And a political party like the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) that actively combats this order can be banned by the Federal Constitutional Court.

The AfD poses the most serious threat to German democracy in the history of its second republic. What has been apparent for some time now through the increasingly radical rhetoric of AfD officials and in their ever closer cooperation with other extremist groups has now been officially confirmed by the BfV. In a 1,000-page report issued back in May, the BfV classified the AfD as a “proven right-wing extremist” party. Politically and legally, this report established the basis for court proceedings to ban the AfD.

But instead of taking the next step and initiating a party ban, political reactions to this report were strangely despondent. Yes, the Social Democratic Party, the junior member of the government coalition, is now preparing for ban proceedings. But Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s Christian Democratic Union is putting the brakes on the idea. Suggestions included removing the worst right-wing extremists from the civil service and possibly even awaiting the outcome of a court case brought by AfD against the BfV. There is, however, no good reason for this reticence nor for the mounting mistrust in the power of the legal weapons provided by the German Constitution. On the contrary: A party ban would be the democratic state’s most powerful response to the greatest danger it has yet faced. If the AfD were banned, it would lose its seats in parliament, its funds, and its infrastructure. Its momentum would be broken. Such proceedings are the AfD’s greatest fear. And the moment to act is now.

From the outside, of course, this aggressive manner of protecting liberal democracy seems peculiar at best. Indeed the BfV—an intelligence service that spies on political actors—and the option of party bans, which could eventually eliminate these actors, are both, on the surface, authoritarian. Yet they are not undemocratic. Agreed upon under the postwar constitution, these institutions form the core of Germany’s resilient democracy and a powerful hedge against a return to the country’s history of dictatorship.

Built upon the ruins of the Nazi regime, the legal foundation of the modern German democracy forms a defense system against its enemies that has been tried and tested for decades. The institutions upholding that order, most prominently the Federal Constitutional Court, are held in high esteem: The Court regularly ranks highly in surveys in terms of public confidence. If trust in these institutions and their power to protect the liberal order erodes, there is no substitute in the German democratic system that could take their place.

In order to ban the AfD, the Federal Constitutional Court would have to be certain that the party as a whole was actively working to undermine the liberal democratic order. The court has issued such bans twice in the past: In the cases of the German Communist Party (KPD) and the Socialist Reich Party (SRP), a Nazi successor party. Neither of these ever posed a threat to German democracy again. In the case of the deceptively-named right-wing extremist National Democratic Party, the Court only refrained from a ban because the party had become too insignificant to be an actual danger.

In the case of the AfD, it’s the opposite. Many critics of an AfD ban consider the party already too powerful and too popular to outlaw it. US Vice President J.D. Vance invoked AfD’s popularity in defending it. But “too powerful” is not a legal concept. In fact, this very concern makes it all the more urgent to initiate a ban procedure without delay.

Of course, success in court depends on evidence. The AfD’s extremist nature cannot simply be drawn from its party program. The court would need to verify, based on numerous individual incidents, that the party as a whole aims to destroy the liberal order. This is no simple task. And yet, the latest BfV report provides an ideal basis for a ban procedure.

Taking the initiative now would be an impressive demonstration of liberal democracy’s power to act. For today, no one can seriously doubt anymore that the AfD is already—and quite successfully—working to undermine the liberal order.

Its deputies have turned parliament into a stage from which they publicly undermine the institution and ridicule its other members. They present themselves as the true voice of the people. And they have a distinct idea of who the German people are: In August last year, for example, leading party member Hans-Christoph Berndt said in an interview, there were only “20, 30, 40 million Germans left in the country.” For context, Germany is home to more than 80 million people, meaning millions of Germans of immigrant descent are evidently not German enough for the AfD.

Every party ban procedure carries great risks. But in this case, not even attempting it would be the far greater danger. In other European countries, such as France or Italy, far-right parties have become more successful by moving a little closer to the political center. In Germany, the opposite has happened with the AfD. The party became more successful as it became more radical. In its party manifesto from 2017, the AfD still looks like the traditional right-wing conservative, Euroskeptic party of its founder, Bernd Lucke. But since then, extremists like Björn Höcke, who were working on overtaking the party from the start, have taken control.

At the same time, this German approach is not necessarily a role model for other Western countries with similar problems. The USA or France do not have a comparable tradition of protecting democracy through state authority. In these countries, it might still be a good idea to take an aggressive stance toward non-democratic actors to protect the democratic system. In Germany however, there is no meaningful alternative to instruments like a party ban to safeguard its democracy.

So far, no other party has managed to challenge the AfD politically with any viable result. On the contrary, the AfD's agitation is increasingly dominating the debate. The polarization it fuels is leading to coalition governments made up of weakened partners who are barely able to tackle necessary reforms on basic issues from pensions to energy supply and climate protection.

This feeds a toxic cycle of lack of trust in the system. Most AfD voters are people between 20 and 50 who no longer trust the established parties to secure prosperity for them in the future. A resilient democracy does not need to cater to forces that would tear it down from within. Instead, a ban could break this loop with an important signal: Expressing dissatisfaction with the government at the ballot box is a fundamental democratic act. But an alternative that wants to abolish the system is not on the ballot. At that point, winning back all those voters who voted for the AfD out of protest would be the responsibility of democratic parties.

The timing for a party ban is favorable: a new government has just taken office in Berlin. It may have stumbled at the start and the challenges are considerable, but the hope for its power to make a change is just as great. And the next general election may be just far enough away to bring a ban procedure to a timely conclusion before then.

Check out the other side of the debate:

EDITOR’S NOTE: This piece is part of a debate series that poses the question: Is it ever appropriate to ban extremist actors in a democracy? Is it overreach and political malpractice, or the proactive defense needed to stop authoritarianism before it destroys the system from the inside? Using the example of the far-right AfD party in Germany, this piece from leading German political commentator Heinrich Wefing, argues against a ban. Read his perspective, then read the opposing viewpoint from his colleague, Eva Ricarda Lautsch, and let us know what you think!

Heinrich Wefing is the head of the politics department at Die Zeit, one of Germany’s top newspapers. From 1996 to 2007, he was a feature editor at the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, working mostly in Berlin, and spending three years as a US West Coast correspondent in San Francisco. He has been with Die Zeit since 2008.

The tone is off, the volume is obviously overdriven, but the US secretary of state hits a sore spot. “This isn't democracy. It's tyranny in disguise,” Marco Rubio wrote on Twitter after the German’s domestic intelligence service, the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution, or Bundesamt für Verfassungsschutz (BfV), formally classified the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), Germany's largest opposition party, as “proven right-wing extremist.” There is now a political debate as to whether to ban the party, dividing the governing coalition of the Christian Democratic Union (which is skeptical of a ban) and the Social Democratic Party (which, as of late June, is preparing for a ban).

The Federal Republic of Germany is far from a tyranny; the country is probably one of the most liberal states in the world, but there is something paradoxical in the concept of “defensive democracy,” which is part of post-war Germany’s DNA: The “right-wing extremist” label isn’t just a shorthand description but an official category that opens up a democratically elected party to monitoring by the BfV—or even a ban—if they are deemed to endanger democracy. These are authoritarian instruments for protecting freedom. They are anti-democratic means for defending democracy.

The framers of the 1949 German Constitution wanted it exactly this way. They witnessed how Hitler and the Nazis undermined the interwar Weimar Republic by abusing its own democratic institutions. Hitler did not come to power through a putsch, but through entirely legal means.

The Nazis were open about this from the outset. “We come not as friends, nor as neutrals. We come as enemies! As the wolf breaks into the flock of sheep, so we come,” Hitler's propaganda chief, Joseph Goebbels, declared in 1928 when the Nazis first entered parliament. The founders of the federal republic determined that infiltration of democratic organs should never be possible again.

“We have learnt from our history that rightwing extremism needs to be stopped,” wrote the German Foreign Office in a sharp reply to Rubio and a clear reference to the Nazis.

Allowing the secret service to monitor an elected party is certainly problematic. On principle, banning an elected party is an authoritarian measure: Voters are deprived of their representation, the party loses its opportunity to shape policy, and democracy is curtailed. Even in the shadow of World War II, the founders of the federal republic understood this. Therefore, the German constitution only provides for a party ban as a last resort, as a nuclear option.

Following the BfV's classification of the AfD as “proven right-wing extremist,” there is now heated debate in Germany about a possible ban on the party. It is one of the most consequential political decisions the country faces.

Make no mistake: The AfD is racist, xenophobic, and in some cases antisemitic. Nevertheless, it should not be banned. Not because that would be an act of tyranny, as Marco Rubio claims, but because there are compelling legal and political arguments against a ban. Let's start with the legal ones.

The decision to ban a party is not made by the executive or legislative branches—which would open up opportunities for politicized attacks—but by Germany's Federal Constitutional Court. The court in Karlsruhe has already banned parties twice in the 1950s, while in two other cases in 2003 and 2017 an attempted ban failed. In all four cases, the judges defined very strict criteria.

Simply spreading anti-constitutional ideas is not sufficient cause for a party to be banned; the Federal Constitutional Court is clear on this point. What's required is an “actively combative, aggressive stance” toward democracy, as the Karlsruhe judges put it; it must be proven that the party intends to abolish the liberal order of the Basic Law—with its fundamental pillars of human dignity, the rule of law, and democracy. And that means the entire party, not just individual loudmouths and agitators.

The AfD is problematic, yes. That the AfD has truly crossed the legally-demarcated threshold to be banned, that it can be proven beyond doubt–that is by no means certain. In its platforms and statements, the party explicitly declares its commitment to the constitution and democracy. Of course, one could argue that this is all just ornamentation, lies, and deception. But then one would have to prove it. The new report from the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution doesn’t meet that standard.

And should a party ban be attempted in Karlsruhe only to fail, should the Constitutional Court certify that the AfD may be extreme, but not unconstitutional—then this entire exercise will end up being a disaster for the centrist parties.

This brings us to the political case against a ban. First, quite practically: A party ban procedure at the Federal Constitutional Court takes a long time: at least two years, more likely four or five. The court reviews the situation thoroughly, hears experts and representatives from all parties involved, and will not allow itself to be rushed.

During this period, the AfD will portray itself as a victim, cultivating its martyr status. With some justification, the AfD will accuse other parties of running out of ideas, of having given up politically, of not wanting to defend democracy at all, but merely their own status.

Meanwhile, the AfD is likely to continue growing. In next year's state elections in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania and Saxony-Anhalt, it could become the largest party. If the AfD wins the race for state premier—the German equivalent of an American governor—then a ban would lead to the seniormost state-level official being removed from office. The AfD seats would not be filled, which could determine which bloc has a majority in parliament. This all presents a risk of considerable escalation.

Sure, one might hope ban proceedings in Karlsruhe might deter voters from voting for the AfD. That was also the hope as the AfD’s classification by the authorities evolved: first, when the AfD was initially labeled under suspicion of right-wing extremism, then, in parts, as confirmed right-wing extremist, and so on. The effect was always the same: the AfD didn't lose votes, it gained them. Its supporters know what kind of party the AfD is, which is precisely why they like it.

The most probable outcome is an opposite-deterrant effect: While underway, a party ban procedure threatens to exacerbate the polarization it is intended to combat.

And finally, perhaps the most important argument against a ban: Even if the AfD were banned, if it lost all its seats and its assets—the thoughts, beliefs, and anger of its voters would not disappear. They would seek other vehicles, other leaders, and many of the AfD's supporters might even become further radicalized.

Does that necessarily have to be the case? Probably not. After 1945, there were suddenly no more Nazis in Germany; no one could remember being enthusiastic about the Nazi Party; a nation of party loyalists conveniently became a nation of resistance fighters. But that was after six years of war, total military defeat, and the Holocaust.

Today, the historical situation is different. We live in a time when liberal democracy is in recession and right-wing populists and authoritarians are on the rise everywhere. This is a secular trend, a global vibe shift that doesn't end at national borders and probably doesn't halt for legal stop signs either.

Take France as an example: A court’s decision to suspend Marine Le Pen’s right to stand for election for five years has not harmed her party, the National Rally. According to current polls, her replacement, Jordan Bardella, would almost certainly make it to the runoff in the next French presidential election. In America, attempts to impeach Donald Trump, try him for various crimes, and even remove him from the ballot only fed his popularity and helped return him to the White House.

The most recent example is Romania. In December 2024, the Constitutional Court in Bucharest annulled the election of the far-right and pro-Russian presidential candidate Calin Georgescu due to alleged Kremlin interference and ordered a new round of voting. Another far-right candidate then ran in the repeat election, only narrowly missing victory in the runoff.

In other words: large sections of the population cannot be excluded from democratic processes by decree. Relying on banning the AfD is a legal fantasy of exoneration. What belongs in parliaments, in council chambers, and even on the streets cannot be delegated to the courtrooms.

Check out the other side of the debate:

Last week, I published an article titled “Schumer Was Wrong,” in which I argued that Chuck Schumer’s decision last month to back the Republican funding bill and avoid a government shutdown was weakness masquerading as pragmatism.

Shortly after its publication, Mickey Edwards—a Republican who served eight terms in the House of Representatives—texted me to say that even though he opposes Trump’s agenda, he believes Schumer made the right call in averting a shutdown. Mickey said that if he were still in Congress, he would have voted with Schumer.

I disagree with him, but it’s important that we facilitate good-faith debate on strategy. In that spirit, I am publishing his response to my column. At The Next Move, we believe in disagreeing without being disagreeable!

Let us know what you think in the comments.

— GK

It's not hard to understand the disappointment—and even anger—many Democrats felt last month when the party's Senate leader, Chuck Schumer, agreed to support a Republican-led plan to avert a shutdown of the federal government. While the legislation would have avoided an immediate crisis, it also would have dealt a serious blow to policies fundamental to Democrats' vision of the government's public responsibilities. Schumer’s critics believed that even in the minority, it was better to fight for your principles than to enable policies you abhor.

Unfortunately, members of Congress, like chess masters, must weigh not just short-term outcomes but also long-term consequences. That does not mean Schumer's critics were wrong, but it does mean that in the long-term, his decision was probably the right one, both as a member of Congress and as a partisan Democrat.

The impulse to fight back against bad policy is powerful, but so is the need to choose the right time, place, and strategy. I strongly disagree with much of what was in the legislation that kept the federal government running. But, if I were still serving in Congress, as I did for 16 years, I would have voted for the bill. Here's why.

As a candidate, I had strong views on many issues. But once elected, I took on obligations that superseded my personal predispositions and partisan loyalties. I wore the congressional lapel pin, carried the congressional voting card, and swore the congressional oath of office. One of my core obligations was to keep the federal government operating and to ensure that millions of Americans continued to receive essential services.

I had my share of similar battles. Throughout my time in Congress, I served in the minority. On important issues, Democrats, then in the majority, often pushed through partisan legislation and ignored or squashed the minority's attempts to make amendments. This was not a departure from the norm; it was the norm, differing only when there was a Republican in the White House who could use the threat of a veto to force compromise. In the end, whether or not one had succeeded in making the legislation more palatable, the choice was to pass what one had or pass nothing at all, with whatever consequences might follow. This is not the dynamic of a party rally; it is the reality of governing.

These are the stakes of following the advice of House Minority Leader Hakeem Jefferies rather than Schumer.

First, there is the oath of office. A government shutdown would have two immediate negative consequences. It would have cut off important services to the people I represented (with real negative consequences for real people) and it also would have shaken international confidence in our government’s stability. When a country can’t keep its government open, eyebrows are raised. Allies reassess trustworthiness and reliability. They ask themselves if they can depend on a government that can't keep its own doors open.

Second, there’s the matter of political survival. Activist Democrats, eager for a fight, argued that refusing to compromise would project strength. But to the broader public, the message would have been clear: Democrats shut down the government. If Republicans voted to keep it open and Democrats blocked it, the public would have blamed Democrats—and with that, any effort to regain public trust would be severely undermined.

Kamala Harris kept repeating in her campaign, "When we fight, we win." But if you fight to let the federal government shut down and leave countless citizens unable to interact with federal agencies they depend on, no, you don't win. That’s not victory—it is handing the opposition a victory on a platter.

Schumer's decision drew criticism, but he acted as a member of Congress should. More importantly, he acted in the public's interest—and may well have saved the Democratic Party from political suicide.

Mickey Edwards is a professor at Princeton University’s school of Public and International Affairs, where he is also Director of Congressional and Constitutional Initiatives. He served as a member of Congress for sixteen years and is a former board member of the Renew Democracy Initiative.

A more positive note: I recently won a rematch against my fellow World Chess Champion Vishy Anand, and my friend and RDI Hero of Democracy Maria Corina Machado was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Call them small wins, but we don’t have enough good news these days. To celebrate, I’m giving away three chess sets, autographed by yours truly. Anyone signed up as a premium subscriber as of October 31, 2025 will be automatically entered to win.¹

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Remember, I don’t take one kopek from your paid subscriptions. All proceeds support the work of the Renew Democracy Initiative, including direct aid to Ukraine, amplifying the work for political dissidents, and getting more content up on The Next Move.

— Garry Kasparov, October 2025

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Of Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, a recent Politico piece noted that “Pragmatism, fundraising and a gimlet-eyed view of the election landscape was the hallmark of his success.”

The use of the past tense suggests the article was more a political eulogy than a forward-looking profile. And its characterization of Schumer’s “pragmatism” mistakes being practical for being weak in the knees.

In the wake of Schumer’s decision last month to back the Republican funding bill and avoid a government shutdown, his supposed “pragmatism” has been praised in some quarters—a tactical retreat in the face of difficult odds. Pick the battles you can actually win!

But some battles are worth fighting even when the odds are long. Pre-emptively retreating isn’t prudence—it’s capitulation.

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President Trump’s return to office has already produced chaos: market upheaval, purges of independent civil servants, politicized targeting of perceived critics, and demands for personal loyalty over respect for the Constitution. This is not speculation. And yet, when presented with a rare opportunity to resist the steady march of authoritarianism, the Democratic leadership chose to stand down without demanding anything in return.

Schumer’s defenders argue that he had no choice—that a shutdown would have played into Trump’s hands, giving him more power to destabilize the government by allowing him to determine whom to furlough. But this argument mistakes tactics for strategy. Strategy is about long-term goals. And the goal here must be clear: defending the republic from a president who doesn’t even pretend to respect its norms or limits.

Viewed through that lens, Schumer’s decision was a strategic blunder. The funding bill was not the product of negotiation; it was an ultimatum. Trump, emboldened by a weak opposition, a compliant majority, and sycophantic cabinet, offered his terms with no room for debate. The proper response was not submission—it was to offer a reasonable counterproposal. A counterproposal would have put the pressure on the other side to accept or (more likely) reject it.

Yes, the resulting shutdown would be painful. Shutdowns have real consequences for millions of Americans. All the more so when Trump could, as Schumer’s defenders point out, exploit a shutdown to accelerate the evisceration of the civil service. But therein lies the crux of my argument. Trump is already tearing apart the federal government. Americans are already living through a period of pain—political, legal, and moral. The question is whether to prolong this slow national decline or to confront it head-on. Let Trump overplay his hand. Let the American people see the cost of his chaos, unvarnished and inescapable. That is how you galvanize public opinion—not by shielding voters from discomfort, but by exposing the MAGA agenda for just how quixotic it really is.

Leadership in times of crisis demands courage. It sometimes means taking a risky move when it is the necessary one. The Republican majority in Congress is razor-thin—so thin that President Trump had to withdraw his nomination of Representative Elise Stefanik for US ambassador to the UN in order to safely hold onto the House. Though they hold fewer seats in Congress, in terms of population the Democrats represent a larger, more diverse swath of the country. The 47 Senators who caucus with the Democrats represent roughly 24 million more people than the 53 Republican Senators. Of course, this fact has no Constitutional bearing, but it has political significance given how loudly Trump and his MAGA acolytes seek to derive their legitimacy from the illusion of majority support. But you wouldn’t know it by the Democrats’ meek disposition.

The psychological battlefield matters. The Trumpist movement understands this. It projects dominance through sheer force of will. Every concession made to it—every inch surrendered without a fight—reinforces the illusion that Trump is inevitable, unstoppable, and above consequence. He is not. But he thrives when no one dares to challenge him.

Schumer’s choice was not just a missed opportunity to wound Trump politically. It was a failure to inspire those who are desperate for signs of life among the opposition. The American people are watching this descent into demagogic lawlessness and wondering if anyone in power has the will to stop it. Moments like this are rare. You either take them—or you lose them.

I speak from experience. In Russia, the opposition was locked out of the system, left to protest from the margins while Putin consolidated power. American democracy still presents the opposition with the tools to fight back—control of funding, investigative authority, public support. But if those tools are left unused, they become symbolic at best, irrelevant at worst.

Here’s the most important message I can offer: now is not the time for managing decline. It is the time for bold, even risky moves. Schumer had a chance to force a confrontation—to deny Trump his façade of an undisputed mandate, to put his dangerous methods on full display. He chose the illusion of normalcy instead. But there is nothing normal about this moment.

Democracy does not die from a single blow. It erodes through a thousand missed chances to stand up. This was one of them. Let’s not miss the next.

P.S. Whether you agree or disagree, let’s continue the discussion—in the comments, and on a Zoom call. Yes, Zoom! I’ve recently announced new Zoom calls for paid subscribers so that we can have a real conversation. Click here to upgrade and register for our first Zoom call.