How “remigration” is penetrating Europe’s political mainstream

THESE DAYS only one word will do for a politician hoping for a career on the German far right: “remigration”. It is hollered at events hosted by the Alternative for Germany (afd) party, plonked on merch and plastered all over social media. Its meaning can be elusive. But its spread from the extremist fringe towards the mainstream illustrates how far-right groups are extending their influence in democracies. It also presents the afd, which leads some opinion polls, with a dilemma.

The concept of remigration is closely associated with Martin Sellner, a 37-year-old Austrian activist and author who has been banned from several European countries. Mr Sellner tells The Economist that what distinguishes his movement is an understanding that social change—in academia, the arts and media—precedes the political sort. Peppering his answers with references to memes, “metapolitics”, and Antonio Gramsci and Louis Althusser (two Marxist philosophers), he says right-wing populists who have secured power have “lacked the intellectual capacity to wield it and bring about change”.

“Remigration” spread from French extremist circles to German and Austrian ones over a decade ago. In January 2024 it burst into the consciousness of ordinary voters when Correctiv, an investigative outlet, revealed that Mr Sellner had discussed remigration with afd politicians at a meeting in Potsdam. The revelations sparked protests across Germany. A group of linguists anointed the term their “unword of the year”.

All publicity is good publicity, shrugs Mr Sellner. The idea acquired such purchase inside the afd that a year later Alice Weidel, its candidate for chancellor, co-opted the term at a party event and approved its addition to the manifesto in the run-up to Germany’s federal election. Many afd politicians have now taken to the cause with gusto (see chart). Some apologise for their belated conversion.

Meanwhile afd activists use the word to signal to fringe groups that “they are part of the cool kids”, says Bernhard Weidinger, an expert on the far right at the Documentation Centre of Austrian Resistance, a research outfit. They post ai-generated “remigration” memes set to jolly Eurodisco tunes. For some the promise of remigration carries an electric charge; activists pledge to make German runways “glow red hot” with the scale of deportations.

What does remigration mean in practice? Mr Sellner says it targets three groups: illegal immigrants; the legal sort who drain the state or commit crime; and citizens he regards as “unassimilated”. This last group presents a “problem”, he accepts. “You can’t deport citizens, this would be madness.” But you can create “cultural and economic pressure” for them to leave. He also wants much tougher naturalisation rules and an end to Germany’s “guilt culture”. He is open to stripping citizenship from some naturalised Germans.

Yet for many of its advocates “remigration” is less a set of policies and more a catch-all term for a vision of Europe with its ethnic and cultural identity rid of what they call “Afro-Arab replacement migration”. Enacting this in full will take several decades, Mr Sellner admits. Asylum claims have lately plummeted in Germany, but that is not the point. The hope is to appeal to those citizens uneasy at the rapid scale of demographic change they witness around them.

These are the same voters the afd is targeting. But there is a crucial difference. The party disavows any suggestion that its proposals would affect holders of German passports. “There is no difference between someone whose family has lived here for 200 years and someone who recently got citizenship,” says Marc Jongen, a member of the afd’s board. Yet some of the party’s politicians call for “millions” to be deported. Around 230,000 people in Germany are subject to deportation orders, but there is no way to expel millions simply by deporting illegal immigrants and criminals.

This is why Mr Sellner’s remigration crusade is both an opportunity and a threat for the afd, says Jakob Guhl of the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, a think-tank. The opportunity is clear: the party has harnessed the energy of right-wing extremist networks that usually stay out of democratic politics. It may be shocking to see representatives of a party backed by one-quarter of the electorate bellow slogans once heard only on the outer fringes, but it is not hurting them in polls. Some have held private or public meetings with Mr Sellner in recent weeks, especially in the Afd’s more radical eastern branches.

But the afd‘s radical turn risks serious trouble with the law. Last year a domestic intelligence agency labelled the afd “right-wing extremist”. The party is contesting that verdict, but calls to ban it have snowballed. Courts have ruled that Mr Sellner’s remigration concept violates the constitution by distinguishing between Germans on the basis of ethnicity. Were the afd to hint that it backs his ideas, it would bolster its opponents’ case. This week it ordered its members to cease meeting Mr Sellner.

This is unlikely to stop “remigration” from spreading. In Austria the far-right Freedom Party has embraced the term with gusto. In Italy the Committee for Remigration and Reconquest, a far-right group, recently caused an uproar in parliament with a petition for mass deportations and denaturalisation. Donald Trump’s administration loves the word: “All America wants for Christmas is remigration,” posted the Department of Homeland Security in December. As for Mr Sellner, he is busy setting up an “Institute for Remigration”. “We can change the public debate, and in the end we will change all politics,” he says. Many people in Europe who might not count as natives fear he is right.■