A lesbian leading an anti-LGBTQ party? Welcome to the world of Alice Weidel, the Alternative for Germany (AfD) figurehead who embodies the political paradox of the decade. While championing the far-right’s anti-immigrant, ultra-conservative agenda, she raises two children with her Sri Lankan-born female partner. For a party obsessed with “traditional family values,” Weidel’s personal life would typically make her a target—but as long as she delivers electoral success, the AfD seems more than willing to turn a blind eye.
Once a financial elite with stints at Goldman Sachs and Allianz, Weidel entered politics in 2013 as a Euroskeptic and quickly climbed the ranks. She helped transform the AfD from a fringe movement into Germany’s second-largest party, securing over 20% of the vote in recent elections. The party, which has long opposed same-sex marriage and adoption rights, conveniently ignores Weidel’s home life as long as she toes the hard-right line in public. And she does—spouting anti-immigrant rhetoric, promoting economic populism, and cozying up to far-right powerhouses like Elon Musk and Donald Trump.
A Party Willing to Look Away
The AfD’s ability to ignore Weidel’s sexuality speaks volumes about their priorities. They aren’t interested in ideological purity as much as they are in power. Analysts say that as long as Weidel keeps their voter base energized and the party competitive, her “non-traditional” lifestyle is just a minor inconvenience. But the cracks are there—AfD hardliners have long resisted LGBTQ rights, and Weidel’s position remains a delicate balancing act.
Germany’s intelligence agency has the AfD under surveillance for extremist activities, with some of its leaders openly using Nazi-era slogans and rhetoric. Despite this, Weidel insists the party is just another voice for “libertarian” values, recently going as far as to claim Hitler was a “socialist.” It’s the kind of historical revisionism that plays well in far-right circles, even as mainstream German politics maintains a strict no-cooperation policy with the AfD.
What It Means for the LGBTQ Community
Weidel’s presence in the far-right doesn’t signal a shift toward LGBTQ acceptance—it’s a calculated political trade-off. Her success doesn’t mean the AfD is softening its stance; it just means they’ll tolerate an exception if it helps them win. For Germany’s queer community, her leadership is a chilling reminder that representation without advocacy is meaningless. A lesbian in power who undermines LGBTQ rights is still a threat, no matter how “progressive” she might appear on paper.
The real question is how long the AfD can stomach this contradiction. If the party’s base begins to push back, will Weidel be forced out, or will she fully embrace their anti-LGBTQ agenda? For now, she’s the right-wing’s most unexpected face—but in politics, contradictions don’t last forever.