On September 20, 2026, Die Linke achieved a historic result. With 25.7% of the vote, the party became the largest in the Berlin parliament for the first time. The traditional parties of power (the CDU, the SPD, and the Greens) are left standing. A left-wing government with Elif Eralp as governing mayor is, in theory, within reach.

The reason for this success is no mystery. It is substance. During the campaign, thousands of Die Linke volunteers went out into the neighborhoods. Door to door. Building to building. Up one stairwell, down the next. They came not with shiny brochures, but with one fundamental question: what keeps people awake at night?

For hundreds of thousands of Berliners, the answer is painfully clear: rent. The envelope that lands on the doormat every month. The knowledge that an ever-larger share of their wages flows straight into the bank account of some anonymous slumlord.

Die Linke wants to make rents affordable, break the power of listed real estate giants, and finally implement the outcome of the referendum. In that 2021 referendum, more than one million Berliners voted for the socialization of large housing stock.

Berliners consider no other party as competent on housing. The figures speak for themselves: after the election, 37% of all Berliners say Die Linke has the best solutions for affordable housing.

The establishment strikes back: the great reversal of the debate

Die Linke won on material issues: housing, rent, ownership. But within no time, the press and the talk shows have all but stopped talking about any of it. Suddenly the political debate is dominated by accusations of antisemitism. By stories about the Rote Hilfe, a left-wing solidarity organization that provides legal support to activists and prisoners. By alleged connections to criminal “clans.” By the suggestion that parts of the party lie outside the acceptable democratic framework. Suddenly, the burning question in the media is no longer how to lower rents, but whether Die Linke is “even fit to govern at all.”

It is the great reversal of the debate. Center stage no longer belongs to the unaffordable rents, the power of real estate corporations, and the housing crisis, but to the legitimacy of the party that won precisely on those issues. Meanwhile, the federal establishment works hard behind the scenes to make any possible socialization of real estate giants, the so-called Vergesellschaftung, legally impossible. Yet Article 15 of the German Constitution makes such socialization possible in principle.

What we see here is an organized counterattack from established economic and political power blocs. They open multiple fronts simultaneously – economic, legal, political, and ideological. Let us take a closer look at the nine forces that have now mobilized against Die Linke in Berlin.

1. Real estate capital

The most direct clash is with real estate capital. Die Linke wants to expropriate profit-driven housing companies that own more than three thousand units each. That concerns a total of over 200,000 housing units in the city. Among them is Europe’s largest real estate company Vonovia, which alone owns 138,000 units in Berlin.

On September 21, the morning after the election, BFW Berlin-Brandenburg, the lobby club of private project developers, pulls the emergency brake. The real estate group warns of “a step backward in housing policy.” Expropriation would slow new construction. Private capital would flee. The BBU, the association of housing companies in Berlin-Brandenburg, also springs into action. In Handelsblatt, Welt, Die Zeit, and Tagesspiegel it warns of “massive investment risks.” In short, as soon as its property and profit model is even slightly threatened, the real estate lobby pulls out all the stops and lets the organ roar.

Here you see class struggle in its most material form. Die Linke wants to shift power from large real estate owners to tenants and public ownership. The real estate sector wants to preserve the existing regime of private property, rental income, and investment returns.

What is at stake is concrete: who owns the apartments, who controls rental income, where does public money go, and who may decide politically about it?

2. Financial capital

Where there is real estate, there are banks. On that same September 21, Die Deutsche Kreditwirtschaft, the powerful umbrella organization of the German banking sector, issues an official warning. Socialization of housing would deter private capital. It would make real estate financing more difficult. It would drive risk premiums sky-high. It would – for hypocrisy knows no bounds – “reduce funds for education and social policy,” as if the German banking sector had ever been guided by such concerns in past decades.

Financial markets also react immediately. Vonovia’s stock price takes a hit and falls 1.7% against the trend, to its lowest level since June 2023. Deutsche Wohnen takes a beating too. Why? Because for these guys, housing in Berlin are not places where people live, love, and raise children. For big capital, housing units are investment vehicles and collateral for gigantic mountains of debt. If you remove those homes from the private market, you hit not only the slumlord but also the wealth manager, the banker, and the speculator behind the entire parasitic ecosystem of Frankfurt. That too is class struggle.

3. The Berlin business establishment

Traditional Berlin capital had already dug in before the election. The four major employer organizations – the Chamber of Commerce (IHK Berlin), the Handwerkskammer, the VBKI, and the UVB – closed ranks in their so-called Wahlarena der Berliner Wirtschaft, a joint election forum where the main parties had to defend their economic programs before organized Berlin business.

Their lobbying does not stop on election day. After Die Linke’s victory, VBKI chairman Harald Christ mounts his warhorse. His message? “Anyone who wants to expropriate private property in this city puts our future at stake.” The VBKI is one of the most elite clubs of Berlin businessmen, of the sort that lives more on returns from property and the labour of others than on their own labour. According to Harald Christ, who himself holds no elected public mandate, a party “that does not clearly distance itself from antisemitism” should not govern either.

Here you see how the two lines of attack of the establishment merge perfectly. On one hand, defence of sacred private property. On the other, moral blackmail. Die Linke must be treated as a pariah as long as it does not jump through all the hoops of the establishment.

4. The arms industry

A second economic front is the arms industry. For the militarists, Berlin must become a hub in the arms industry. Die Linke sees it differently. The party wants no expansion of military industry in the city, no military propaganda on the streets, and no army recruiters in schools.

That is blasphemy in the church of German militarism. In its hunger for new billion-dollar contracts, the German military-industrial complex of Berlin-Brandenburg wants to create a cluster for defence and aviation. Martina Klement, Minister of Economic Affairs in Brandenburg, already threatened that her state would “continue alone if necessary” if the Berlin government blocked its plans. She points an accusing finger at Die Linke’s critical attitude towards the Rüstungsindustrie, the arms industry. That too is class struggle: will Berlin become a cog in the booming war economy, or will the city build a dam against it?

5. The federal state and the institutional veto

Pressure on Die Linke comes not only from banks, real estate groups, and lobbies. Parts of the state apparatus are also intervening directly into the conflict.

The decision that Die Linke must under no circumstances lead the formation of a Berlin government seems to have been decided even before the polling stations closed on September 20. A few minutes after 6 pm, with the polls barely closed, Federal Chancellor Friedrich Merz gave a speech with one clear message: he continues his course, whatever the election result.

A day later, Merz announced he wants to fast-track with a federal law against the socialization of large real estate companies. His coalition had previously made agreements about this, but after Die Linke’s victory it suddenly became urgent. Germany, according to Merz, had to make it clear to international investors that private property remains safe and is not simply expropriated. That it is Merz, of all people, who brings this message is not without meaning. Before his return to politics, he chaired the supervisory board of the German branch of asset manager BlackRock from 2016 to 2020, one of the largest financial players in the world.

What is at stake is Article 15 of the German Constitution.Since 1949, it has explicitly stated that land, natural resources, and means of production can be transferred to common ownership or other forms of communal economy by law, provided compensation is regulated by law. That provision has never been applied. The struggle in Berlin is precisely about whether it can be used for the first time against large real estate companies.

Other statesmen also do not hold back. For example, Bavarian Minister-President Markus Söder (CSU) threatens to question financial transfers to Berlin if the city pursues too leftward a course. Bavaria is one of the richest states and a major net contributor to Germany’s system of redistribution. Bavaria is rich, Bavaria pays. And so Söder wants to dictate what Berlin votes. A dangerous Lega-Nord-ization of German federalism: the rich region buying off democracy in the poorer region.

Individual ministers also intervene via their official function. Federal Minister of Economic Affairs Katherina Reiche used her ministry’s Instagram account to attack Die Linke over expropriations, antisemitism, and alleged ties to organized crime. Die Linke has taken legal action against this, invoking the duty of neutrality that binds state institutions.

Even the judiciary has been drawn into the debate. Berlin Attorney General Margarete Koppers warned, amidst the controversy over alleged ‘clan’ contacts around Die Linke, that criminal networks deliberately seek out politicians. She did not accuse Die Linke directly, but her intervention gave additional institutional weight to the image built around the election winner.

Merz and his Vice Chancellor and Finance Minister Lars Klingbeil (SPD) know well what is at stake: if socialization of large real estate companies succeeds in Berlin, it could also raise expectations elsewhere – in the automotive industry, energy sector, or other strategic sectors.

It is precisely this precedent that must be stopped. An electoral victory for Die Linke must under no circumstances grow into an infringement of the existing order of property, let alone into an example that sparks other social struggles.

6. The police and security apparatus

A sixth pressure line comes from the police apparatus. After the election, certain police unions in Berlin warned that a government led by Die Linke could weaken the police by restricting its powers, its surveillance, and its capacity for repression. The Gewerkschaft der Polizei (GdP) went further and warned SPD and Greens that “the security of this city is at stake.” It also suggested officers might leave Berlin to work in other German states.

That threat quickly gained a practical dimension. CDU-led governments in Baden-Württemberg and Brandenburg openly invited Berlin police officers to transfer and explicitly linked that recruitment campaign to the prospect of a government led by Die Linke.

That is organized pressure and blackmail from certain police unions and conservative state governments: accept our vision of police and security, or we will drain your force dry.

7. The Israeli Embassy

And then there is the elephant in the room: the campaign around antisemitism. On September 26, ARD, the major German public broadcasting corporation, found that the controversy over antisemitism had by then “overshadowed all other topics since the election victory.”

Ambassadors are normally not supposed to interfere directly in the host country’s domestic political decision-making. That did not prevent Israeli Ambassador Ron Prosor from warning after Die Linke’s victory of an “immediate existential threat” to Jewish life in Berlin. Prosor, a Netanyahu loyalist and critic of the International Criminal Court, accuses parts of Die Linke of “unrestrained antisemitism” and hostility toward Israel.

Virtually simultaneously, Josef Schuster, Chairman of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, addressed the SPD and the Greens directly: anyone who helps Die Linke into the Rote Rathaus, the Berlin City Hall, is, in his view, putting social cohesion and Jewish life at risk.

Within the SPD and the Greens, that Israeli pressure finds a willing ear. SPD politician Martin Hikel calls cooperation impossible with a party that, in his words, “tolerates antisemitic statements.” Antisemitism and the defence of Israel have now become central topics in initial talks between Die Linke, the SPD, and the Greens. In this way, the Israeli intervention weighs directly on the political climate in which a new Berlin government is being negotiated.

Behind that lies a broader strategic entanglement. Despite the genocide in Gaza, Germany and Israel continue expanding their military-industrial cooperation. Israeli arms producer Elbit Systems signed new strategic cooperation agreements this year with companies including TKMS and Diehl Defence, among other things for naval weapons systems and drones for the Bundeswehr. Elbit wants to build up to eight new facilities in Germany over the coming years.

That makes the struggle over Israel material as well. It’s not just about Gaza, apartheid, and Israeli settler colonialism, but also about increasingly close military and industrial interconnection. In such a context, the label “antisemitism” takes on particularly political charge when used against forces opposing the Israeli government, German rearmament, or that growing military-industrial cooperation.

8. ELNET: the international lobby network

Beyond the Israeli embassy lies a much broader lobby infrastructure. What stands out is how the theme of antisemitism repeatedly comes to centre stage whenever a consistent left force achieves electoral breakthroughs.

In Great Britain, three major newspapers declared jointly in 2018 that a government under Jeremy Corbyn would constitute an “existential threat” to Jewish life. Corbyn had to be politically delegitimized because he broke with the consensus on Israel, openly supported the Palestinian cause, and simultaneously defended a socio-economic program that collided head-on with British establishment. The accusation of antisemitism thus became a weapon in a broader struggle to declare him unfit for governmental power.

The same pattern surfaced in France. In 2024, Yonathan Arfi, chairman of the umbrella organization of Jewish institutions in France (CRIF), declared that “La France Insoumise (LFI) has no place in government.” Again the accusation was: “antisemitism.” In reality, it was about left criticism of the genocide in Gaza. For recent French municipal elections, French security service Viginum exposed a massive Israeli disinformation campaign run by the shadowy Blackcore. With fake sites, false profiles, fake news, and AI bots, LFI candidates were systematically smeared.

In Berlin, attention focuses mainly on ELNET Deutschland, a lobby organization that seeks to strengthen Israeli-European ties. The money for this little party comes mainly from the US. The German office received over one million euros from ELNET US in a single year.

ELNET financed trips to Israel for at least 51 Bundestag members and brought six IDF officers to the capital for talks with politicians, the Bundeswehr, and media shortly before the Berlin election. Thus ELNET forms an important link between Israeli security circles and the German political establishment, and possesses considerable financial resources and direct access to decision-makers. In the current Berlin debate, that infrastructure strengthens a political climate in which attitude toward Israel increasingly serves as a touchstone for the question who may and may not govern.

9. The United States

Finally, there is American interference. The United States has made no secret in its official National Security Strategy that it actively supports far-right and nationalist forces in Europe – such as the Rassemblement National in France or the AfD in Germany. For Trump, such Europe offers a double advantage: allies who stand closer to Washington, but simultaneously an EU that remains internally divided and less able to act as an independent international power.

American heavyweights like Elon Musk, Donald Trump, JD Vance, Marco Rubio, and former ambassador Richard Grenell have intervened openly in German politics in recent years, typically in ways giving AfD more legitimacy and political space. When AfD scored in Saxony-Anhalt, Trump, Musk, and Grenell were in the front row to cheer. Trump publicly celebrated the result, Musk wrote “Gut gemacht!” (Well done!), and Grenell spoke of “a great victory and a new day in Germany.” That was barely two weeks before the Berlin election.

Meanwhile, the American embassy in Germany set aside approximately $400,000 this summer for German civil society organizations, among other things for projects around “countering antisemitism.” They use diplomatic funds to determine domestic political agendas. On Washington’s instructions, American embassies in Europe feed the witch hunt against the left, while helping the far right into the saddle.

A desperate move

Add all these forces together (banks, real estate companies, employers, arms industry, judiciary, federal government, embassies, and international capital) and you see what really happens in Berlin: different factions of the ruling class defend their own interests but find each other as soon as existing property and power relations are touched.

The first front is material. Real estate capital defends its rents and land ownership, banks their credits and collateral, investors their returns, the arms industry its billion-dollar contracts and state orders. Their interests differ, but on one point they converge: Die Linke must not undermine the grip of private capital on housing, investments, and public funds.

The second front is political and ideological. As soon as those material interests come under pressure, the debate shifts to antisemitism, extremism, Rote Hilfe, and alleged clan connections. The goal then is no longer only to block concrete reforms. Die Linke itself must be pushed outside the boundaries of the politically acceptable.

But let’s be honest: that smear campaign is nothing but a desperate move. The elites play dirty because they lack arguments. No one can look Berliners in the face and claim €1,500 per month for a shack is a good thing. The housing crisis is not an extreme position, but daily reality for the absolute majority of the population, including many voters of the SPD, the Greens, or the right.

Because the establishment cannot win that debate, it tries to impose another one. The smoke bombs go off one after another: “antisemitism!” “clans!” “Islamists!” “Rote Hilfe!” The less of an answer there is to the social question, the louder the noise about Die Linke’s supposed unfitness to govern at all.

The real extremism in this world is not a party that organizes tenants. The real extremism is a society in which millions of people are driven out of their city because a handful of vultures demand their returns. The real extremism is a system that reduces housing to speculation and war to a profit model.

Die Linke won on the fundamental question: whose city is Berlin? Who sets the rules, who controls the bricks, and whom should the city serve? The answer from Berliners was clear. The intensity of the counterattack shows how well the other side understands what is at stake.

Nobody should fear that polarization. It is simply the noise of class struggle: economic powers defending their property and capital, state powers trying to guard the boundaries within which an election result may change something. The scent of panic hangs in the corridors of power. There is no reason to turn defensive or to retreat. There is all the more reason to rely on the people and to mobilize. Because in the end, that is where the decisive question lies: who truly forms the majority in Berlin, and who holds the power to stand in its way?

Peter Mertens is a writer and the Secretary General of the Workers’ Party of Belgium (PTB/PDVA).

Lee en español aquí

Brazil’s general election on October 4 delivered a severe warning to the left. Flávio Bolsonaro, the presidential candidate of the Liberal Party (PL), finished ahead of President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, with approximately 47% against 45%. Neither secured a majority, sending them into a runoff on October 25. More troubling than this narrow presidential gap was the advance of bolsonarismo through Congress. The election has strengthened a political movement whose ambitions extend beyond defeating Lula to reshaping the institutions that obstruct its exercise of power.

The imprisonment (house arrest) and electoral exclusion of Jair Bolsonaro have not dissolved his movement. His son Flávio carries its presidential banner, while other members of the family have won seats in Congress. Michelle Bolsonaro, Jair’s wife, and Carlos Bolsonaro, his son, enter the Senate; Jair Renan, another son, and Renato, Jair’s brother, enter the Chamber of Deputies. Nepobolsonarismo is an appropriate name for this family’s expansion through the state. Yet the family is only the most visible expression of a broader project, rooted in powerful economic interests and a deeply organized reactionary politics.

A presidential contest with continental stakes

Lula remains the principal obstacle to the return of this project to the presidency. His defeat would affect workers and peasants throughout Brazil, but also the possibilities for regional cooperation and an independent Latin American foreign policy. Brazil’s size, industrial capacity, raw minerals (such as critical minerals), agricultural resources, and diplomatic reach give its political direction continental significance. A government that subordinates these assets to Washington’s priorities would weaken the space available to neighboring countries seeking their own paths of development.

The first-round geography demonstrates both Lula’s strength and his difficulties. He retained a commanding position in the Northeast, while Flávio led across the other four regions. São Paulo’s enormous electorate provided a particularly important advantage to the right. These divisions cannot be explained by an opposition between an enlightened population and an ignorant one. They require an examination of the different conditions of work, the organization of political life, and the capacity of competing movements to interpret people’s frustrations.

Lula approaches the runoff with a substantial social record. Unemployment fell to 5.3% in the quarter ending in August, the lowest rate for that period in the statistical series beginning in 2012. Such improvements matter enormously to families for whom a regular wage brings relief from daily uncertainty. But an improved national indicator does not settle the political argument. Employment can coexist with exhausting journeys, expensive housing, inadequate public services, and the insecurity of debt. The distance between statistical improvement and lived experience remains terrain on which the right operates.

Bolsonarismo, or Brazil’s far right of a special type, translates these frustrations into resentment against the left, all public institutions, and vulnerable sections of society. Its promise of order offers an immediate language for fear, while concealing the economic arrangements that produce insecurity. The left cannot answer this merely by advertising government achievements. It must connect those achievements to a credible program for changing everyday life, and explain which interests prevent further advances. A worker struggling with debt needs more than reassurance that the economy is performing well. This has been the problem for Lula, whose program for the future does not seem to promise more than what has been delivered till now.

The senate: a struggle over institutional power

The Senate election is particularly consequential because 54 of its 81 seats were contested. Senators serve eight-year terms, so the results will shape national politics well beyond the next presidential administration. The PL won 19 seats and will hold 28 in the new Senate, making it the largest party. The PT will have nine. The bolsonaristas have therefore established a formidable position, although the PL itself remains short of a majority and must bargain with other parties.

Michelle Bolsonaro and Bia Kicis took both seats in the Federal District, while Carlos Bolsonaro and Carol de Toni won the two seats in Santa Catarina. These victories show the movement’s ability to organize coordinated campaigns and concentrate support behind its candidates. There were important successes for the left: Rui Costa and Jaques Wagner won in Bahia, Humberto Costa retained representation in Pernambuco, and Marília Campos won in Minas Gerais. These results preserve points of resistance within an increasingly hostile chamber. The Senate’s significance extends beyond ordinary legislation. The bolsonaristas have made their confrontation with the Supreme Federal Court a central political objective, including demands to impeach its ministers. Their strengthened representation increases their capacity to pursue that confrontation and to influence the election of the Senate president. Predictions of an automatic majority for impeachment should be treated cautiously: party affiliation, campaign declarations, and votes in a specific proceeding are different things. Nevertheless, the danger of using legislative power to intimidate the judiciary has plainly grown.

This is part of a struggle over the conditions under which the far right can govern. The judicial proceedings against Jair Bolsonaro did not remove the social forces supporting him. Those forces now seek greater leverage over institutions capable of restraining them. For the left, defending democratic space must therefore accompany the struggle to expand social rights. Workers’ organizations cannot afford to lose the freedoms through which they organize, educate, and confront capital.

Federal deputies: the right advances, the left finds openings

All 513 seats in the Chamber of Deputies were up for election this year. The PL secured 121, consolidating its position as the largest party in this chamber as well as in the Senate. The federation of the Workers’ Party, Communist Party of Brazil, and Green Party won 88 seats, with the PT itself taking 70. The federation’s growth is significant, but it leaves Lula’s allies far from a majority. Parties of the right hold 303 seats, while the broader parliamentary left holds 124.

The outcome strengthens the far right of a special type within a legislature already dominated by conservative interests. It also weakens some established brokers of parliamentary power, such as the centrão, the collection of parties that trades legislative support for influence over appointments and public resources, although it remains indispensable for majority building. What bargaining will take place within the centrão will now take place alongside a larger and more assertive PL. If Lula wins in the second round, he will confront substantial congressional resistance, but if Flávio wins, the same Congress could facilitate a reactionary program.

Yet the election also brought important representatives of a fighting Left into the Chamber. Jones Manoel, the communist historian elected through PSOL in Pernambuco, received 249,077 votes and finished first in Recife. Elias Jabbour, the communist geographer, was elected for the PCdoB in Rio de Janeiro. Their victories suggest an audience for political education and socialist arguments, even amid the right’s advance. They offer resources for rebuilding confidence among people who have grown impatient with the narrowing ambitions of parliamentary politics. Jones Manoel has already offered to assist Lula’s runoff campaign, including its digital communication, while proposing stronger attention to demands such as free public transport. This is a useful example of political clarity: criticism of the government’s limitations can coexist with active mobilization against the far right of a special type. Such unity does not require workers to abandon their demands. It becomes stronger when those demands supply the campaign’s energy and direction.

The task before October 25

The runoff cannot be won through negotiations among party leaders alone. It requires organized activity in workplaces, neighborhoods, universities, and rural communities, with a program people can recognize in their own lives. Transport, wages, housing, debt, public healthcare, and the time consumed by work must become the substance of a democratic campaign. Defense of sovereignty becomes tangible when it is connected to the ability to use Brazil’s wealth for the needs of its people.

The angry tide has advanced, but it has not carried away the millions who still seek another Brazil. The new communist deputies, the surviving mass organizations (especially the landless workers of the MST), and Lula’s enormous electoral base provide foundations for resistance. The immediate task is to defeat Flávio Bolsonaro. The longer task is to build a popular power strong enough to prevent the oligarchy from deciding, election after election, how little change the majority will be allowed.

Vijay Prashad is an Indian historian and journalist. He is the author of forty books, including Washington Bullets, Red Star Over the Third World, The Darker Nations: A People’s History of the Third World, The Poorer Nations: A Possible History of the Global South, and How the International Monetary Fund Suffocates Africa, written with Grieve Chelwa. He is the executive director of Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research, the chief correspondent for Globetrotter, and the chief editor of LeftWord Books (New Delhi). He also appeared in the films Shadow World (2016) and Two Meetings (2017).

This article was produced by Globetrotter.