On September 20, the leftist party Die Linke emerged victorious in the Berlin state elections. However, it remains uncertain whether the party can successfully form a coalition, appoint its leading candidate Elif Eralp as mayor, and fulfill her key campaign pledge to socialize the housing assets of the city’s largest real estate firms. Following the election results, a flood of accusations surfaced, reflecting the heightened polarization in contemporary politics.
Die Linke faced serious allegations, fueled by a leaked chat and a rapper’s performance, suggesting connections with criminal organizations and posing a threat to the safety of Berlin’s Jewish community. These claims of antisemitism led the Greens and the SPD—potential partners for coalition—to reconsider any collaboration, while right-wing commentators insinuated that groups like “Hamas and Hezbollah” had influenced the election results, or that the legacy of East Germany was resurfacing. Alice Weidel from the far-right AfD accused Die Linke of intending to enact violent measures against the wealthy.
The current political climate illustrates a profound crisis within liberal capitalism, which is fundamentally structured to safeguard property rights. The reaction to perceived threats against property reveals a heightened sensitivity, yet such reactions are not always consistent. Analysts argue that the allegations against Die Linke serve as a tactic to obstruct its socialization agenda. However, the widespread belief in these smear campaigns, especially alongside the normalization of the AfD’s recent electoral successes, requires further exploration.
The intensity of this political frenzy can be better understood when considering the pressures faced by liberalism, which may lead more moderate political entities to appear as adversaries of freedom. Liberalism prioritizes individual freedom, allowing personal liberties as long as they do not infringe upon the rights or property of others. This intertwining of freedom and property is significant, as one’s autonomy is often viewed as a form of ownership over oneself, necessitating a reliance on the state to mediate conflicts among self-owners.
This delicate equilibrium between personal liberty and the freedoms of others is increasingly threatened by global challenges. Liberalism struggles to address issues such as economic inequality and environmental crises without positioning the freedoms of privileged individuals against those of future generations or marginalized communities. Without a shared democratic commitment to governing our collective future, policies may appear as sacrifices without tangible benefits—a loss of freedom to own property or use personal vehicles without equivalent compensation, such as public housing or transportation.
While reason may support initiatives aimed at anti-discrimination, social distancing, or electric vehicles, the concept of freedom can clash with these goals. The notion of unrestricted liberal freedom is compromised, transforming into an extreme, possessive version of itself.
The right-wing offers a sense of “phantom possession” to its supporters, championing traditional values such as gender roles, family, freedom of speech, and nationalism as if they were tangible assets. The slogan “Take back your country,” used by the AfD, invokes the “great replacement” conspiracy theory, suggesting that white populations are being supplanted by non-white individuals. This narrative intertwines various possessive claims, asserting that white citizens “own” their nation and that its male inhabitants should control reproductive rights to boost domestic birth rates. Migrants are often portrayed not as autonomous individuals but as pawns in a larger scheme orchestrated by a so-called woke or Jewish elite who must be expelled through “remigration.”
Although such racist rhetoric is typically associated with rural regions, the concept of “phantom possession” can extend to urban settings like Berlin. A misstep by Die Linke could trigger a broader political panic among the centrist factions, who feel unsettled by the AfD’s growing influence, disoriented by a future that liberalism seems unable to navigate, and struggling to address the emancipatory claims made by various groups while simultaneously grappling with the complexities of Israel’s actions.
Some German Jews have criticized what they perceive as “paternalistic philosemitism” from centrist commentators, who often overemphasize their commitment to combating antisemitism without adequately addressing its manifestations. These commentators tend to uphold a narrative of absolute victimization, defending the notion of German “memory culture” as if it were a personal asset. Consequently, Die Linke, along with human rights organizations, anti-Zionist Jews, pro-Palestinian activists, and anyone labeled as vaguely “Arab,” is often portrayed as a threat to this narrative.
The future of Die Linke and its commitment to socializing housing remains uncertain as it navigates a complex political landscape. Like other movements advocating for emancipation, its potential ascension to the mayoralty in Berlin faces extreme challenges and objective issues requiring substantial change.
This situation underscores the fact that the left cannot thrive within the current liberal framework; it must promote a compelling vision of freedom that transcends the existing deadlock. Die Linke, much like Zohran Mamdani in New York, recognizes this necessity. The party has not only championed an abstract right but has also committed to ensuring the tangible freedom for individuals to remain in their cities, neighborhoods, and homes.
