They poured on to streets across Germany in the tens of thousands, wielding placards that read “Nazis out” and “Never again is now”.
Appalled by revelations that some among the far-right Alternative für Deutschland had attended a meeting in Potsdam at which “remigration” had been on the agenda, the protesters offered a powerful rebuttal to the idea that the mass deportation of migrants – including those with German citizenship – was a valid policy option for any decent politician.
For others, however, the furore was a moment of opportunity. Far-right movements across Europe had long sought to peddle the concept of remigration. Now, in the deluge of headlines and social media chatter, they saw their chance.
“It meant that the far right globally could tap into that moment,” said Julia Ebner, a researcher with the Institute for Strategic Dialogue and the University of Oxford. “Because it was an opportunity to convey the impression that this is an entirely legitimate concept, one that is being picked up by politicians.”
Ten months on, the term has turned up in elections around the world. Last Sunday’s ballot in Austria saw the far-right Freedom party (FPÖ) – which in June called for the EU to name a “remigration commissioner” – emerge as the most voted for, after a campaign punctuated with uses of the term.
In recent elections in eastern Germany, the AfD plastered posters across the state of Thuringia with the tagline “Summer, sun, remigration”. Lest the meaning was lost on anyone, the posters depicted a plane emblazoned with the words “deportation airline”.
In September Donald Trump embraced the term, mentioning it in a tweet that has since racked up more than 56m views. The Republican candidate posted: “As president I will immediately end the migrant invasion of America. We will stop all migrant flights, end all illegal entries … and return Kamala’s illegal migrants to their home countries (also known as remigration)”.
Such usage reflects a sea change in recognition of the concept. “Now we don’t only have mentions among a few hundred people,” said Ebner. “It’s really become a much more mainstream term that has been used by people across the world and especially by far-right populist politicians.”
She pointed to the term’s seemingly euphemistic nature to explain its take-up. “It sounds a lot more benign than what it actually stands for,” said Ebner. “Because, particularly in the context of Germany and Austria, there is still a very strong association of the term mass deportation with the Holocaust.”
While the concept of remigration has long existed in academia, its hijacking by the far right on social media appears to have begun about a decade ago when French adherents to identitarianism, an ethno-nationalist movement, organised what they described as the inaugural meeting in Paris on remigration.
Their take on the term came as they were actively spreading the conspiracy theory known as the great replacement, said Eviane Leidig, a researcher and consultant who specialises in online extremism and radicalisation. “I see these as interconnected,” she said. “So the great replacement being the diagnosis of society and remigration being then the prescription for it.”
The result is a deeply undemocratic and exclusionary rhetoric that ignores the reality of Europe today, she added. “Taboos exist for a reason,” said Leidig. “And that’s because you need to take a stand and say these ideas, and this rhetoric has no place because it simply dehumanises others.”
It’s not just the far right, however, that should be held responsible for the rising use of this term, said Omran Shroufi, a post-doctoral researcher at Vrije Universiteit Brussel.
The move to the mainstream of terms such as remigration would probably not be possible were it not for centrists and mainstream politicians willing to legitimise this discourse, said Shroufi, allowing the far right to play an outsized role in shaping the political conversation.
“There’s a kind of tragic irony where people are perhaps temporarily shocked by this meeting that took place in Germany, but then may be turning a blind eye towards what is actually happening, where politicians of the centre are effectively legitimising, if not implementing, the sort of policies that were discussed in Potsdam,” he said.
As an example, he pointed to an interview – published weeks before the Potsdam meeting took place – in which the German chancellor, Olaf Scholz, said it was time to “deport on a large scale those who have no right to stay in Germany” and called for deportations to happen “more often and faster” across the country.
“When that happens, the far right can turn and say, ‘Well look, they’re saying it. So why can’t we?’” Shroufi said.
As remigration goes mainstream, the consequences are likely to be born out in the coming months, whether it’s the implementation of harmful policies or other impacts on people with migrant backgrounds, said Ebner.
Even as a fringe concept, it had proved to be “especially dangerous,” she said, citing communications between Martin Sellner, a far right figure who has long promoted remigration, and the white supremacist in Christchurch, New Zealand, who opened fire on two mosques in 2019, killing 51 Muslim worshippers. Sellner denies involvement in the attack.
“It just shows how much hate these concepts can incite and violence they can inspire,” said Ebner. “The potential for this to escalate is huge.”
