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This is the kind of politics that looks “pragmatic” right up until you remember who’s holding the leash.
Germany is struggling with energy. People feel it in bills, in anxiety about industry, in the constant argument over what “realistic” even means anymore. So when a German opposition party sends its foreign policy chief to a big forum in St. Petersburg and he comes home smiling in photos with Gazprom’s CEO, that’s not just a trip. That’s a message. And I think it’s a dangerous one.
From what’s been shared publicly, AfD foreign policy spokesperson Markus Frohnmaier went to the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum in 2026. He met with major Russian figures, including Gazprom’s CEO, and he reportedly had a meeting with a top adviser to Vladimir Putin. Then he called for reopening Nord Stream and improving energy relations with Russia.
Let’s not pretend this is normal diplomacy. The AfD is in opposition; it doesn’t run German foreign policy. So the purpose here isn’t “negotiations.” It’s theater. It’s signaling to voters: we can fix your energy pain fast, and we know exactly which door to knock on.
That’s the part that will tempt people. Energy isn’t an abstract issue. Imagine you run a small manufacturing business and every month your costs jump. Imagine you’re a family choosing between heat and other basics. When someone says, “We can turn the tap back on,” that promise hits you in the stomach. It sounds like relief.
But relief can be a trap. Nord Stream isn’t just a pipe. It’s a dependency machine. If Germany goes back to building its comfort on cheap Russian energy, you don’t just buy gas. You buy leverage. You buy future threats. You buy the next moment where a foreign power can squeeze your politics by squeezing your energy.
And this is where I’m not neutral: I don’t believe Frohnmaier’s trip was mainly about German households. It was about the AfD building an identity as the party that will “restore normality” with Russia, even if that “normality” means accepting Russia as a permanent power broker over German life.
The photos matter because they tell you who takes him seriously. Gazprom is not a random company you meet at a conference and casually chat with. It sits right at the point where business and the Russian state blur into each other. So when a German politician posts up next to that leadership and comes home pushing Nord Stream, the obvious question isn’t “Is he being diplomatic?” The question is “What is he offering, and what is he asking for?”
That question gets sharper because the AfD has a controversial history with Russia. There have been allegations about Kremlin funding linked to Frohnmaier’s campaign. I’m not going to pretend I can prove what’s true there. But even the existence of those allegations changes the stakes. Because if you’re under that cloud and you still choose to go do photo ops with Gazprom and meet Putin’s top adviser, you’re either careless or you’re confident people won’t care.
There’s another layer too: the AfD is reportedly under surveillance over extremist ties. Again, that doesn’t automatically mean every person in the party is controlled by someone else. But it does mean the party has a credibility problem. If a party already struggles with trust at home, then flirting with a foreign power that loves division is not “bold.” It’s reckless.
Some readers will push back: “So what, Germany needs energy. Talking is not treason.” And sure—countries talk to rivals all the time. Energy deals exist in a messy world. But there’s a difference between a government carefully managing a hard reality and an opposition party using that reality as a shortcut to power.
Imagine you’re a German voter who is angry at high costs and tired of being told to “endure.” The AfD offers you an easy story: your leaders chose pain, we choose comfort. But easy stories come with hidden bills. If Germany reopens Nord Stream and leans back into Russian energy, what happens the next time Russia wants something—sanctions eased, support softened, political pressure applied? The “cheap” option stops looking cheap when it comes with strings that tug your democracy.
And the AfD can make this even safer for itself: because it’s in opposition, it can promise everything without owning the consequences. It can be the voice of “common sense” now, and if it ever gets real power later, the country finds out whether this was negotiation or submission.
I also don’t love the timing vibe here. Germany’s energy stress creates a perfect opening for influence. Not influence in the Hollywood spy sense—just the boring, effective kind. A few meetings. A few flattering photos. A few “serious” conversations. Then a domestic political fight shifts one notch. Then another. Then you wake up and notice the argument has moved from “how do we stay independent?” to “how do we make dependence feel acceptable again?”
Maybe Frohnmaier genuinely believes reopening Nord Stream is the fastest path to stability. Maybe he thinks Russia can be treated like a regular partner if Germany just stops posturing. That’s the most generous reading. I still think it’s naïve at best, because it ignores how energy dependence reshapes decision-making over time. It makes leaders afraid to upset the supplier. It makes “standing firm” feel expensive. It trains a country to pre-compromise.
So here’s the real choice behind the headlines: do you treat energy as a short-term bargain, or as part of national security and political independence, even when that costs more and hurts now?
If you’re a voter, what should matter more in a crisis: the promise of cheaper energy soon, or the long-term risk of letting a foreign power regain leverage over your country’s politics?