What was the turning point in Elon Musk’s shift to the far-right? It depends on who you ask. Some might have spotted early warning signs at the start of the pandemic – say, on March 6, 2020, when Musk tweeted: “The coronavirus panic is dumb.” Or perhaps on July 25, 2020, when, in response to a Twitter (now X) user lamenting a US-backed coup against Bolivian president Evo Morales, Musk chimed in: “We will coup whoever we want! Deal with it.”
Maybe the tipping point came in late 2022, when he bought Twitter and promptly opened the floodgates to hate speech and Holocaust denial. Or maybe, given Tesla’s long history of ignoring safety regulations, spying on workers and suppressing unions, the idea of any rightward shift is a stretch. He is the world’s richest man. Did anyone think he was going to be left wing?
In Germany, though, the mainstream portrayal of Musk as a well-meaning liberal genius remained largely intact until December 20, when he responded to a video by the creepy right-wing influencer Naomi Seibt (filmed, for some reason, in a stairwell) with the declaration: “Only the AfD can save Germany”. Not to be misunderstood, he followed that up the next day with a reply to a post about migrant-related crime: “AfD is the only hope for Germany.” (This post was a reply to the right-wing commentator Ashley St Clair, who later revealed that Musk is the father of her newborn child, his 13th.)
The truth is that bringing Musk to Berlin was a cross-party effort
Musk has continued to make his feelings clear. He wrote an op-ed for Die Welt in December imploring German voters to opt for the far-right AfD in the coming elections. He called the German chancellor a “fool” and the president an “anti-democratic tyrant”. And, with all the charisma of a man FaceTiming his estranged children on their birthday, he beamed into an AfD rally, telling the audience to “be proud to be German”, lamenting “too much focus on past guilt” and warning against a “multiculturalism that dilutes everything”. After his speech, the crowd joined together for a full-throated rendition of the German national anthem (redux). Then, in January, there was the 74-minute chat on X Spaces with Alice Weidel, during which Musk stifled a giggle before asking for the AfD leader’s thoughts on “Hitler and whatnot”.
All of this has proved awkward for German politicians, many of whom had been tripping over themselves to cosy up to Elon. As recently as December, Christian Lindner, leader of the business-friendly FDP, was urging Germans to “dare more Musk and Milei” (a nod to Argentina’s sideburned chainsaw-wielding libertarian president, Javier Milei). His response to Musk’s tweet storm was typically snivelling: “Elon… it’s a far-right extremist party. Don’t rush to conclusions from afar. Let’s meet, and I’ll show you what the FDP stands for.”
THE FACTORY FACTOR
How different things looked a year ago. In March 2024, Berlin’s mayor Kai Wegner (CDU) and Brandenburg’s Economic Minister Jörg Steinbach (SPD) joined Brandenburg Minister President Dietmar Woidke (SPD) to pose for grinning photo ops with Musk at Tesla’s gigafactory in Grünheide. “Berlin and Brandenburg are united in their support of Tesla,” Woidke declared.
Since Musk came out for the extreme right, these same politicians have had to keep quiet about their support for Tesla’s presence in Brandenburg, or walk it back. (Steinbach has said he has been “arguing” with Musk, but still values him “as an innovator”; Woidke refused to comment at all). But the truth is that bringing Musk to Berlin was a cross-party effort. There was the Green Environmental Minister Axel Vogel, who openly admitted he would give Tesla “preferential treatment” in their bidding process. There were the SPD ministers who sold off the land for cheap, allowed construction to begin without permits, and repurposed DDR development money to give the enormously wealthy US manufacturers a handout. Ironically, the AfD were one of the loudest voices against the Brandenburg gigafactory. That now appears to have been pure opportunism and, after gaining Musk’s support, it is a position they have since reversed.
He is the world’s richest man. Did anyone think he was going to be left wing?
And so, after Musk’s televised salute, after his clear statement of right-wing sympathies, German politicians continue to try and separate the politics from the supposed business acumen. At the end of January, Die Welt hosted an economic summit featuring top political leaders and CEOs from Porsche, Siemens, Deutsche Bank and Rheinmetall – along with Musk and Benjamin Netanyahu. The event’s official description feebly suggested that “participants [would] not only ask Elon Musk why he supports the AfD, but also how he deals with excessive bureaucracy”.
A closer look at Tesla’s Berlin gigafactory, however, makes clear that Musk’s politics and business practices were always entwined – something the German political class might have taken more seriously before rolling out the red carpet for the world’s richest man.
THE TESLA OF POLITICS
Local opposition to the plant began the moment Musk announced it. The most prominent concern has been its reckless consumption of Berlin’s already dwindling supply of drinking water, but that’s just the start. The list of rule-breaking is extensive: refuelling construction vehicles in protected areas, laying unauthorised piping, attempting to disguise an unapproved diesel filling station under a tent, building railway tracks without permits, constructing an illegal recycling plant that has already caused two fires. And that’s before getting to the union busting. Two members of the IG Metall union were fired despite holding positions on the company’s Betriebsrat (workers’ council), while Tesla’s HR manager has reportedly paid unannounced visits to employees’ homes and doctors’ offices to check up on their health.
He beamed into an AfD rally, telling the audience to “be proud to be German”,
Musk had also promised to build a battery plant in Grünheide, but when Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act introduced massive subsidies for domestic battery production, Tesla swiftly packed up its equipment and shipped it back to the US. This, of course, is what Tesla does. More than any feature of their vehicles, the company’s two real innovations have been inflating stock prices and hustling their way into public funds. Since 2009, Tesla has made at least $9 billion – not from selling cars, but from selling regulatory credits to automakers failing to meet electric vehicle targets.
In Berlin, Musk is already getting others to pick up his tab: Brandenburg paid €8.1 million on the company’s behalf in compensation payments for destruction of the local forest, while Deutsche Bahn is footing the bill for a new railway station to serve his factory.
Thanks to Musk and Trump’s new alliance, we are now witnessing a remarkable new level of state capture, with Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency seemingly reviewing – and mercilessly cutting – all US government spending. Were he to gain similar leverage in Europe, the billionaire’s intentions are already clear: he wants to scrap the EU’s Digital Services Act, which compels social media platforms to remove hate speech or face hefty fines. And he would like, wherever possible, to win government contracts for his businesses, such as Starlink.
This, perhaps, gives us a clue as to what Musk is really up to in Berlin. As historian Quinn Slobodian recently pointed out in The New Statesman, Musk did not found Tesla but bought into it, setting about a capital-raising and marketing campaign which made the upstart electric car company into a $1 trillion business. He may now see the AfD as “the Tesla of politics” – a disruptive startup he can steer to the centre of the political universe: either to gain maximum leverage for his business interests, or to blow the whole thing up.
