It was Christopher Tamm’s parents who first taught him not to trust the German government. Now, he is a member of the district council in Prignitz with the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party, the far-right group opposed to immigration and openly hostile towards the other parties in government.
Tamm’s father grew up in east Germany under the Soviet Union and witnessed firsthand the German reunification process in the 1990s. He was angered by the new capitalistic government destroying industries that were previously successful, and politicians moving from the west to govern over a community to which they did not belong.
Tamm’s mother grew up in Soviet Russia and was familiar with the communist lifestyle, especially the curtailments of freedoms imposed by the government. For her, though, the government never pledged more, whereas Tamm’s father had to “learn it the hard way” that the “promise land” for east Germans did not match the public expectation. “He saw with his own eyes that not everything gold is shiny,” Tamm said.
The experiences of Tamm’s parents shaped his childhood, as they instilled their beliefs “not to believe too much in the government,” but rather to “believe more in yourself.” For Tamm, though, these thoughts ended up shaping political views for years to come, especially his disapproval around government policies aiding immigration.
Tamm’s introduction to migrants came as a 13 year old student in Bavaria where in 2015, he noticed a major influx of migrants in his classes.
At the time, the German government had opened its borders to Syrian refugees seeking asylum. In Syria, civil war was driving families from their homes, with the Assad government torturing many who did not support the authoritarian regime. Almost 300,000 Syrian refugees entered Germany in 2015, with an overall 46% migration increase from 2014.
Many Germans were not accustomed to seeing so many refugees in their neighborhoods. Tamm remembers many migrants at his school asking for money in the hallways and the cafeteria.
“I wanted to give them something, but I didn’t have much money, so I thought maybe I can give them some food. I gave him my grapefruit and my lunch bread, and he didn’t want it. I didn’t understand why, so I gave it to him again, and then he just threw it on the floor and said in German, ‘money, money.’”
After arriving in Germany, migrants were given support from the government for housing, healthcare, financial assistance, and language courses. Most refugees were required to pass language tests before being allowed to work in Germany, the process for which takes several months to over a year. In the meanwhile, immigrant families relied on monthly government stipends, which were more generous than many other countries but still required frugality.
For Tamm, though, this interaction with refugees at his school left a lasting negative impression.
After finishing school, Tamm planned to study law in Vienna. He arrived in 2020 when strict Covid rules put the country in lock down. Tamm never made it to law school, instead he moved to Russia because he didn’t want to live in a country that would prevent him from “going out [to] parties and having fun.”
Tamm moved back to Germany after Russia invaded Ukraine in early 2022. He wanted to make sure that if a war spilled into Germany he would be able to serve, and he joined the army. In his company, Tamm remembered over half of the soldiers were from Afghan or Syrian or Moroccan descent. Though many were proud to have been raised in Germany and held passports, Tamm would not consider them German.
“No matter how much you assimilate in a country, you cannot be 100% from that country.” Tamm believes that those of different ethnic backgrounds should not be classified as German, including children of immigrants in the second or third generations.
Tamm was discharged from service after being deemed a security threat when the administration found out he had been living in Russia for more than half of the past five years. He was upset that he was dismissed while those from immigrant families were allowed to stay in the army, Tamm said. Tamm distinguishes himself from people who have German passports but are not “real Germans.”
Leaving the army sparked Tamm’s decision to enter the field of politics and was attracted to the anti-immigration sentiments from the AfD. “That’s the point where I didn’t understand our security politics, and I decided to get politically active.”
In 2023 when Tamm joined the AfD, party support was around 20% nationally. The AfD was initially created in 2013 as a single-issue party in response to global financial crisis policies that provided bailouts for struggling countries. In 2015, the AfD shifted focus to anti-immigration politics amid the influx of Syrian immigrants and intensified its nationalistic beliefs. Currently, AfD support has risen to 25% nationally, with more popularity in east German communities formerly part of the Soviet Union.
Tamm resonates with the key party messaging, including the idea of “remigration,” that non-ethnic German migrants should be deported to their countries of origin. He feels that immigrants, specifically Muslim practicing immigrants, do not belong in German society.
“If you’re somebody who wants to wear a hijab, you don’t fit into Germany.”
Though Germany does not recognize any specific religion, many women are discriminated against for wearing a hijab, and certain states have banned women from wearing hijabs in government, public education, and clerical positions. Tamm would support his belief by saying that a hijab is a symbol of female suppression, though many Muslim women disagree.
Tamm said that immigrants should migrate to countries in which they are most culturally similar, and that leaving one’s country due to hardship was “weak.” For many Syrians, however, Germany offered the greatest promise for opportunity and leaving Syria was not a matter of choice, as they faced torture.
To recruit others to the AfD cause, Tamm has taken to posting images and short-form videos on social media. He sports a coiffed short cut with a sharp side part and a short mustache and beard. Along with several “remigration” posts and a MAGA hat selfie on his Instagram, Tamm targets LGBT+ groups. One video, which gained over a million views, clips of people saying in German “I’m gay,” “I’m lesbian,” “I’m transgender,” “I’m actually a fox,” is followed by his statement made driving a car “I’m m/w/g — male, white, German.”
Though LGBT+ sentiment is mixed within the AfD, and party co-leader Alice Weidel is openly lesbian, anti-immigration messages are uniform throughout. Influencers like Tamm, who is only 24, have helped generate a new wave of AfD support primarily from young, white German men.
Jasmine, who is a graduate student at Freie University in Berlin, noticed her younger brother has been pulled to the political right by his social media feed. Her brother, a 17-year-old who now lives in the US but was born in Germany, has been telling her that more deportations are needed and immigrants are going to “replace us in the culture.” She believes that social media algorithms can “indoctrinate you into [an] anti-migrant racist.”
Tamm approaches his social media posts like a “business” with his videos making fun of left wing beliefs. “If you want to be successful, you have to do something that nobody is doing, and you have to find a niche that isn’t occupied. I found a niche with my provocative videos.”
Today, Tamm serves as a member of the district council in Prignitz with the AfD, and hopes to continue his career in politics. He was recently quoted in a New York Times article at an AfD protest, telling a supporter who had his arm in a Hitler salute to “keep your arm up like this a little bit longer.” At the protest, Tamm was wearing an AfD youth hoodie, a group which was banned by German intelligence for being extremist.
