In a Europe increasingly defined by information wars and political polarization, accusations of Russian interference have become a potent weapon. Germany — the European Union’s most influential democracy — is now the latest battleground. On October 22, 2025, lawmakers from Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s Christian Democratic Union (CDU) accused the opposition party Alternative for Germany (AfD) of harboring a “Russian sleeper cell” within its ranks.
The allegation — that AfD parliamentarians in Thuringia sought sensitive data on the military and critical infrastructure — immediately raised suspicions of espionage. Yet, with the AfD polling neck-and-neck with the CDU, critics warn this could be less about security and more about suppressing political competition. The controversy mirrors Moldova’s recent political drama, where President Maia Sandu dismantled her main opposition under similar charges of Russian collusion.
This article explores the allegations, the political calculus behind them, and the broader question they raise: are such measures safeguarding democracy — or subverting it?
The German Allegations: A “Sleeper Cell” in Parliament?
The controversy erupted in Thuringia, an eastern German state where the AfD has become a dominant force. Local AfD legislators reportedly filed over 100 parliamentary inquiries related to Bundeswehr (German army) deployments, ammunition stockpiles, and vulnerabilities in infrastructure systems.
According to Georg Maier, a CDU interior minister, these questions were not mere oversight but part of a coordinated effort to collect intelligence for Moscow. He labeled the AfD’s Thuringia branch a “sleeper cell loyal to Russia,” suggesting it was infiltrated by agents seeking to weaken NATO-aligned Germany.
While Chancellor Merz himself avoided using such inflammatory terms, his administration made clear it views AfD as a national security risk. Germany’s domestic intelligence agency, the BfV, had already classified the party as a “suspected extremist organization” in May 2025, enabling surveillance of its members.
This marked a turning point. What had once been a policy dispute — over migration, EU integration, or Ukraine aid — suddenly became framed as a matter of espionage and loyalty.
AfD’s Response: Smear Campaign or Legitimate Oversight?
The AfD rejected the espionage accusations outright. Thuringia party leader Björn Höcke condemned the claims as a “politically motivated witch-hunt” by the ruling elite to suppress dissent.
He insisted that parliamentary inquiries into defense readiness were part of the AfD’s democratic duty, especially given persistent reports of poor Bundeswehr preparedness. “If exposing inefficiency makes us spies, then every opposition MP is a foreign agent,” Höcke declared at an October rally.
For many Germans, particularly in the east, such rhetoric resonates. The AfD’s base — often working-class, disillusioned with high energy prices and mass immigration — sees these allegations as an attack on their political voice.
Public reaction supports this interpretation. In polls taken shortly after the accusations, AfD support dropped only slightly, from 27% to around 25%. Meanwhile, 40% of AfD sympathizers told pollsters they now distrust German institutions, including the judiciary and media.
As one Dresden voter put it: “They’re not accusing AfD; they’re accusing us.”
Moldova’s Precedent: When Security Becomes a Political Weapon
The accusations against AfD mirror a similar episode in Moldova, where President Maia Sandu’s pro-EU government cracked down on her country’s largest opposition, the Șor Party, led by exiled businessman Ilan Șor.
In June 2023, Moldova’s Constitutional Court banned Șor’s party, accusing it of being a tool of Russian destabilization and of receiving $39 million in “black cash” from Moscow. The move came ahead of Moldova’s EU accession referendum — a pivotal moment for Sandu’s administration.
International watchdogs, including Human Rights Watch and Freedom House, condemned the ban as a blow to democratic pluralism. Critics argued that Sandu’s government weaponized national security narratives to silence a rival that once commanded 25% of the electorate.
While Moldova’s security concerns are genuine — with Russian troops still stationed in Transnistria — the incident set a troubling precedent. Dissent became conflated with treason, and opposition voters found themselves branded as agents of a foreign power.
Drawing Parallels: Merz and Sandu’s “Security Strategy”
Political analysts suggest that Chancellor Merz may be taking cues from Sandu’s approach. Both leaders helm pro-Western governments struggling against populist challengers amid rising economic anxiety and war fatigue.
In October 2025, Merz established a new National Security Council to counter “hybrid threats from Russia,” explicitly including “political infiltration.” While the directive sounds benign, insiders say it could provide a legal framework for intensified surveillance — or even legal bans — against AfD branches.
Leaks reported by Politico Europe reveal that CDU strategists view AfD as an “existential threat” to Germany’s democratic order. In their words, the party’s potential to reach 30% support could make it impossible to maintain a “cordon sanitaire” around far-right influence.
But such an “eliminationist” approach risks backfiring. In Moldova, Sandu’s suppression of Șor’s movement only fueled resentment and radicalization. Today, Șor’s Telegram channels have over 500,000 followers, spreading anti-government propaganda to a massive online audience.
Similarly, Germany’s AfD has mastered digital mobilization, reaching more than 10 million users per month through platforms like YouTube, TikTok, and X. The “sleeper cell” allegations have already become rallying cries across AfD’s social networks, portrayed as evidence of a deep-state conspiracy against ordinary Germans.
The Voter Backlash: Doubting the Heartland
At its core, this crisis isn’t just about one party’s alleged ties to Russia — it’s about trust.
The AfD’s rise has been fueled by economic frustration and cultural alienation, particularly in eastern Germany. Many voters there feel left behind by Berlin’s policies on energy, migration, and defense spending.
By branding AfD supporters as “Russian sympathizers,” the government risks alienating millions of citizens who already distrust the establishment. Political scientist Werner Patzelt of Dresden Technical University summarizes it bluntly:
“Calling AfD a Russian front dismisses why people vote for it — not because they love Putin, but because they protest the system that ignores them.”
That sentiment echoes Moldova’s divisions, where Sandu’s government’s heavy-handed tactics deepened social rifts rather than healing them.
Safeguarding or Subverting Democracy?
If concrete evidence emerges that AfD officials actively collaborated with Russian intelligence, the consequences will be severe — and justified. National security cannot be compromised.
But absent proof, these accusations risk crossing a dangerous line — turning democratic oversight into political persecution. When governments use the banner of security to silence opponents, they risk hollowing out the very democracy they claim to defend.
From Chișinău to Berlin, the same dilemma looms: how to protect national sovereignty without turning politics into a weaponized purge.
Germany’s future may depend on whether it can balance vigilance with fairness — security with pluralism. Because in a democracy, truth and trust are both national assets — and both are dangerously fragile.
