Rising Islamophobia in Germany and U.S. fuels public debate

Anti-Muslim rhetoric surges in Germany and the U.S. amid Gaza tensions

"It's disgusting. It's racist. It's like saying, 'Oh, you greasy Jew!'"—that was how U.S. actor Ben Affleck, visibly furious, once fired back at comedian and talk show host Bill Maher. In their heated 2014 debate, Affleck swept aside his opponent's broad generalizations: "What about the more than one billion people who aren't fanatics, who don't beat their wives, who just want to go to school, who pray five times a day, and who don't do any of the things you're trying to sell us as 'defining' all Muslims?" It was a moment that resonated deeply with many viewers—and went viral for good reason.

To this day, Maher, who presents himself as a liberal, remains one of America's most strident and anti-Muslim voices. He has backed the U.S.'s devastating "war on terror," Israeli war crimes in Gaza, and now, in recent days, American strikes on Iran. His rhetoric often differs little from that of Donald Trump or Benjamin Netanyahu—two extremists who have long since lost credibility on the world stage but still, alarmingly, command a sizable following at home.

Maher is far from alone in his hostility toward Muslims. In Germany, too, more and more figures are adopting similar rhetoric, primarily to poison public discourse on real issues. For years, this hasn't been limited to far-right AfD politicians like Gottfried Curio, who dismiss the very existence of anti-Muslim bigotry as an "ideological construct." It also includes numerous individuals who, despite their warped worldviews, style themselves as "representatives of the mainstream" or "enemies of all extremism."

It comes as little surprise, then, that in recent weeks, several members of the CDU/CSU parliamentary group have downplayed anti-Muslim racism—or even dismissed it outright as a fabrication by "the left and Islamists." Christoph de Vries, for instance, labeled the term "constructed" in the Bundestag, implying it was nothing more than a political ploy to silence criticism of Islam.

Germany's Islamophobia Industry

The fact that such positions have now entered the political mainstream is hardly shocking. Since Hamas' October 7, 2023, terrorist attacks and Israel's subsequent genocidal campaign in Gaza, Germany has once again seen a boom in what can only be called the Islamophobia industry—a sector that stokes fear of extremism and exploits it commercially, whether for government programs, book deals, or media attention.

This business continues to thrive in Germany, as the case of Ahmad Mansour illustrates. Just last year, an investigation by Correctiv revealed that one of Mansour's anti-Semitism projects had received millions in funding from the Federal Ministry of Education and Research, despite likely violating scientific standards. Mansour remains the go-to "Islamism expert" in conservative circles, even though actual scholars—particularly Islamic studies experts—have criticized his methods for years.

But genuine expertise seems secondary in today's climate. Instead, what gets promoted is whatever is sensationalist and offers simplistic narratives. Media figures, pundits, and even some academics have long relied on this approach. A recent example is journalist Sascha Adamek, who published a supposedly investigative book titled Infiltration: The Advance of Political Islam. It's a hodgepodge of claims that effectively brands nearly every Muslim and migrant organization in Germany as potentially extremist.

Aid groups, anti-racist associations, critical academics, and even Munich's prominent imam, Benjamin Idriz—Adamek lumps them all into an alleged Islamist network, secretly seeking influence on behalf of the Muslim Brotherhood.

A Mix of Provincialism and Radicalization

One of the most insidious aspects of Adamek's approach is his treatment of the case of Austrian political scientist Farid Hafez, who now teaches at William & Mary University in Virginia. While criticism of Hafez's arguments is perfectly legitimate, Adamek exploits Operation Luxor—of which Hafez was a victim—while omitting crucial facts: this brutal police raid against alleged Islamist women was later ruled unlawful. Hafez prevailed in numerous court cases, and investigative reports revealed that disinformation campaigns originating from the United Arab Emirates (UAE) played a pivotal role in his criminalization.

It is telling that Adamek repeatedly cites the UAE as a reliable source on "anti-Islamism"—alongside the Israeli government, whose claims are no longer accepted uncritically by any reputable human rights organization. The fact that such sources are treated as beyond reproach in German discourse only underscores its growing provincialism and radicalization.

It comes as no surprise, then, that in a recent interview with Cicero, Adamek dismisses the concept of anti-Muslim racism as a mere "invention." This has nothing to do with reality. Anti-Muslim attacks are an everyday occurrence in Germany, and the term itself is long established in academic research. In a country where the Hanau terrorist attack took place, where the NSU was allowed to murder for years, and where Marwa El-Sherbini was executed in a courtroom, the existence of this hatred should not be the subject of crass debate—but a call for decisive government action.