Conservatives are reconstructing their own imagined nation.
Across Europe, the far right is on the rise. There was a time when experts assured us that it could never happen in Sweden, for instance, or Spain. But it has. Germany was also supposed to be an exception, given its Nazi past. However, today, the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) polls nationally at around 20 percent. Not only that, similar parties in other countries have pursued the strategy of what Marine Le Pen calls dédiabolisation—appealing to voters by appearing more normal and distancing themselves from their more extreme roots, such as Le Pen’s attempt to separate herself from her father’s Holocaust relativism.
In contrast, the AfD has doubled down on historical revisionism. How, one wonders, is this not a deal-breaker for citizens who do not identify with extremism? A plausible answer lies in broader cultural shifts. Today, the understanding of what is considered “normal” has evolved, and this is reflected in the public’s changing relationship with their environment.
A distinct development has taken place in Germany’s public architecture. The country has seen the reconstruction of Prussian-era edifices that were destroyed in the 20th century. Most prominently—and controversially—this includes the Hohenzollern Palace, located in the heart of Berlin, and Potsdam’s Garnisonkirche (the Garrison Church). These reconstructions are not simply aesthetic; they symbolize a broader cultural revival that resonates deeply with conservative and far-right voters.
The decision to rebuild these symbols of Prussian power is indicative of a larger trend in Germany. The reconstruction is not just about restoring old buildings but about reconstructing a national narrative. This revival of imperial architecture is an attempt to resurrect a historical identity that some see as lost or misrepresented in the aftermath of WWII and the collapse of the East German state.
While these architectural endeavors may appear as mere nostalgia for the past, they also carry significant political weight. For the far right, they are symbols of strength and continuity—a narrative that is inherently linked to their vision of a “restored” Germany. It is a reminder of their effort to reclaim and reshape the national identity, blending cultural nostalgia with political ambition.
As this movement gains traction, the question remains: can these reconstructions lead to a more divisive political climate in Germany? Or will they serve as a cornerstone for broader conservative unity? The growing prominence of the AfD and the rise of nationalist sentiments in Europe suggest that these efforts may only be the beginning of a deeper transformation in Germany’s political and cultural landscape.