Austria’s Political Paralysis

Thomas Protzman

Halle Foundation/AGI Intern

Thomas Protzman is a Halle Foundation research intern at AGI in fall 2024. He is pursuing a master's degree in International Affairs with a concentration in Human Rights and Global Governance at the Hertie School in Berlin and is currently on academic exchange at the Elliott School of International Affairs at George Washington University. He spent three years in Vienna, completing a teaching fellowship with Fulbright Austria. He earned his undergraduate degree in History from Denison University and studied for a semester at the Ruprecht-Karls Universität in Heidelberg, Germany. Additionally, he brings experience from his time as an intern for U.S. Senator Sherrod Brown. Thomas is committed to strengthening institutional ties and fostering collaborative leadership in the transatlantic sphere. He has a wide range of research interests, including climate change, populism, and institutional trust.

A Warning for Germany

Germany’s recent federal election saw the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) double its vote share, reaching a record high. Meanwhile, neighboring Austria remained paralyzed for five months after its own federal election, unable to form a government as centrist parties struggled to keep out the far right. Although a governing coalition has finally been formed between the center-right People’s Party (ÖVP), center-left Socialists (SPÖ), and liberal New Austria (NEOS), Austria’s crisis reveals how the failure of mainstream parties to govern decisively creates the very conditions in which the far right thrives. As the Austrian case shows, isolating the far right while failing to deliver effective governance only fuels disillusionment and legitimizes far-right narratives. Germany must learn from Austria’s mistakes: if the Christian Democrats (CDU), Social Democrats (SPD), and Greens continue prioritizing political maneuvering over governance, they risk making the AfD not just an opposition force, but an inevitable part of the country’s future.

Although they may seem similar on the surface, Austria’s far-right Freedom Party (FPÖ) is far more engrained in Austria’s political landscape than the AfD is in Germany’s. Whereas the AfD was only founded in 2013, the FPÖ has long been the spiritual successor to the Austrian Nazi parties, founded in 1956 by former party members. It has previously served in federal governing coalitions alongside the center-right ÖVP in the 2000s and 2010s. Its last stint in government ended with the so-called “Ibiza affair” in 2019, when it was revealed that private investigators had arranged and secretly filmed a meeting between FPÖ party leaders and the supposed niece of a Russian oligarch (played by an actress) in 2017 to negotiate the sale of Austrian government contracts in exchange for media influence, among other corrupt practices. Widespread protests ensued, leading to the resignation of ÖVP Chancellor Sebastian Kurz and FPÖ party leadership and the dissolution of the federal governing coalition. One might expect that such a scandal would be disqualifying for future elections, but much like Donald Trump’s triumphant return to the Oval Office four years after the January 6th, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol, the FPÖ is back, led by the enigmatic Herbert Kickl. In October’s Austrian federal elections, the FPÖ finished as the party with the highest share of votes for the first time, winning 29 percent of Austria’s votes. When the other Austrian parties refused to enter coalition talks with Kickl’s FPÖ, President Alexander Van der Bellen made the unprecedented decision to give the mandate to form a governing coalition to the party with the second-most votes, in this case the incumbent ÖVP. When they failed to form a coalition with the center-left Socialist Party (SPÖ) and the liberal NEOS, sitting Chancellor Karl Nehammer resigned, and Van der Bellen finally passed the mandate to Kickl. Despite previously ruling out a coalition with Kickl, the ÖVP broke with its stance and entered coalition talks. The two rightward parties were then unable to agree on a governing coalition, with tensions rising about the FPÖ’s demands for control of the interior ministry, vital for control of the Austrian intelligence agencies. During his tenure as interior minister from 2017 to 2019, Kickl was judged by the courts to have unlawfully used the ministry to raid a secret service office, the BVT, Bundesamt für Verfassungsschutz und Terrorismusbekämpfung (Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution and Counterterrorism). The police operation, led by an FPÖ partisan, targeted officials who were investigating right-wing extremism and drew widespread condemnation, with other European intelligence agencies ceasing sharing of intelligence with the BVT out of fear that sensitive information was no longer secure in Austria.

Just as in Austria, where the ÖVP’s gradual concession to FPÖ positions has helped legitimize the far right, the CDU’s flirtation with AfD-backed migration policies is already reshaping Germany’s political landscape in dangerous ways.

After the ÖVP and FPÖ failed to reconcile their positions, a coalition agreement was finally presented in late February by the SPÖ, ÖVP, along with the NEOS. Although Austria has its government, the FPÖ framed the whole deadlock as an anti-democratic effort by the elite political establishment to keep the far right out of government, denying the will of the people. Kickl’s party remains out of government this time around, but the FPÖ has already normalized its role as a leading force in Austrian politics—a shift that will have lasting consequences. In the absence of a functioning government, the far-right’s narratives about the incompetence of the so-called political elite have taken hold, reinforcing public disillusionment with the mainstream. Recent polls indicate between 33 and 39 percent support for the FPÖ, up five points from September when the elections were held.

The effects will reverberate far beyond one election cycle. The longer the ÖVP and SPÖ delayed forming a government, the more they confirmed the FPÖ’s accusations that the system is rigged against them. Kickl and his allies have successfully framed the coalition talks as evidence that Austria’s elite will do anything to keep the far right out of power, even if it means ignoring the will of the voters. That sentiment will not go away because the FPÖ has been excluded from government—it has become embedded in Austria’s political culture. While the ÖVP and SPÖ’s months of strategic maneuvering to avoid working with Kickl may have secured short-term political survival, it has come at the cost of further alienating voters. By treating the FPÖ as a pariah while failing to present a compelling alternative, Austria’s centrist parties have reinforced the far-right’s appeal as the only force willing to “stand up to the establishment.”

Additionally, the ÖVP have increasingly echoed and normalized FPÖ rhetoric on immigration and security, signaling that the far-right’s influence extends beyond electoral victories—Austria’s entire political discourse has shifted rightward. Germany is already heading down the same path. In a recent attempt to recapture voters drifting toward the AfD, Friedrich Merz (CDU) has increasingly adopted hardline rhetoric, particularly on migration. His recent reliance on AfD votes to push through a restrictive migration measure—an ill-advised move that ultimately failed but shattered the so-called Brandmauer (firewall), leading to massive protests—is a clear sign that the German center-right is willing to bend its own rules when politically expedient. While Merz insists there will be no formal cooperation with the AfD, his actions speak louder than his denials. Just as in Austria, where the ÖVP’s gradual concession to FPÖ positions has helped legitimize the far right, the CDU’s flirtation with AfD-backed migration policies is already reshaping Germany’s political landscape in dangerous ways. This is not just a matter of the far right gaining votes. The goal is to render the CDU and ÖVP obsolete, absorbing their voter base while delegitimizing their role in government.

The AfD, while not as entrenched as the FPÖ, is rapidly gaining ground across Germany. Austria has demonstrated that simply excluding the far right from government is not a sufficient strategy—if centrist parties fail to deliver effective governance, they will only fuel further disillusionment and make a far-right breakthrough more likely in the future. If Germany’s centrist parties want to avoid the same paralysis, they must prioritize governance over political maneuvering. Migration, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the war in Ukraine have placed immense strain on governments across Europe, forcing them to navigate economic uncertainty, public health crises, and shifting geopolitical realities. These external pressures have complicated coalition-building and policymaking, but they alone do not explain the rise of the far right. The combination of external shocks and prolonged political maneuvering has created an environment where disillusionment thrives. If centrist parties want to push back against far-right narratives, they must not only deliver effective governance but also communicate a clear vision that reassures voters in times of crisis. The CDU/CSU Union, SPD, and Greens must recognize that every delay, every internal fight, and every leadership squabble only strengthens the AfD’s claim to be the true alternative. The lesson from Austria is clear: once the far right sets the political terms, the entire system shifts in its direction. The CDU must reject the temptation to appropriate AfD rhetoric or policies in hopes of winning back voters. Compromising on language or principles—whether on immigration, EU integration, or national identity—does not weaken the far right; it legitimizes and emboldens it. Instead, mainstream parties must present a clear, functional alternative, forming an effective government as quickly as possible to show that democracy can still deliver stability and solutions. If they fail to act decisively, Germany may soon find itself at an impasse of its own—one that could prove even harder to break.