Something remarkable is happening in Northern Europe.
In Sweden, the centre-left has won 176–173 — but its four parties are divided by red lines over who may govern with whom.
In Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, AfD has doubled to 37% and become the largest party, while Chancellor Merz’s CDU has collapsed to just 5.5%. Yet AfD will probably still be excluded from power.
Red lines can be necessary. Democratic parties are not obliged to cooperate with movements they consider dangerous.
But red lines also carry a long-term risk.
When political systems become organised primarily around excluding certain parties, elections gradually lose their ability to produce meaningful changes in power. Ever broader coalitions are then formed not around a common programme, but around a common enemy.
That may protect democracy in the short term.
But if millions of voters repeatedly conclude that their votes can never influence government, trust in the democratic system itself begins to erode. The excluded parties can then present every compromise, every unstable coalition and every policy failure as proof that “the establishment” fears the electorate.
Sweden and Germany may be approaching the same warning from different directions:
A democracy cannot survive indefinitely on red lines alone.
At some point, political parties must persuade voters, solve the problems driving discontent and build majorities for something — not merely against someone.