Two months later, the reckoning came. Germans voted in national elections in late February. Now, the center-right Christian Democratic Union, its Bavarian sister, the Christian Social Union, and the center-left Social Democrats (SPD) are forming a coalition. Their agreement includes conservative immigration limits and massive defense spending—but also proposals to restrict speech. Rather than address voter concerns openly, Germany’s next government seems poised to contain them.

The coalition pact includes Orwellian language: “The deliberate dissemination of false factual claims is not protected by freedom of speech.” A new “nongovernmental” media oversight body will target “information manipulation” and “hate.”

This initiative has already earned a nickname in Germany: the “lying ban.” Even within the CDU, the proposal sparked ridicule. Friedrich Merz, the party leader and incoming chancellor, promised fiscal discipline during the campaign, then swiftly unveiled the largest debt package in German history. One German columnist asked: “When will Merz turn himself in to the authorities?”

Behind the satire lies something more serious. Germany’s establishment is fighting to reassert control over public discourse—especially online, where it’s losing ground. The main targets are social-media platforms and populist parties. The tools are censorship and criminal law.

Germany is far from a haven for free speech. In February a journalist tweeted a satirical edited photo of Interior Minister Nancy Faeser holding a sign that read: “I hate freedom of speech.” The meme proved prophetic. The journalist was sentenced to seven months probation and ordered to issue a personal apology to the minister. The court ruled the act violated Section 188 of the Criminal Code, which outlaws defamation of public officials—a law passed in 2021 and quickly embraced by politicians. Vice Chancellor Robert Habeck has filed more than 800 criminal complaints for online insults.

His was one of the loudest voices during the campaign calling for tighter regulation—censorship—of social networks. This isn’t really about fighting disinformation, which officials invariably claim is put forth only by the opposing side. It’s about regaining control, which they sense is slipping away.

The establishment blames tech platforms for its eroding influence. Elon Musk’s ownership of X and Mark Zuckerberg’s pivot toward the Trump administration have unsettled European regulators. German officials now view Silicon Valley less as a partner and more as a threat.

Germany’s established political parties maintain a close relationship with media outlets and so-called civil society, one that has little to do with traditional notions of independence. The country runs a vast public broadcasting network—encompassing television, radio, news sites and social media—funded by nearly €9 billion annually in mandatory contributions from all residents. The SPD owns a stake in one of Germany’s largest newspaper groups, which publishes more than 20 regional dailies. But influence is shifting to platforms they can’t control—where the far-left Die Linke and far-right Alternative for Germany outperform traditional parties. In response, the coalition is moving to punish platforms for “false information” and expand prosecution of “hate” and “incitement”—terms conveniently undefined and selectively applied.

The coalition justifies all this as a defense of democracy and free speech. Public sentiment tells a different story. In 1990, 78% of Germans said they felt free to express their opinions. By 2023 that number had dropped to 40%.

Some in the political class know these efforts won’t be enough. That’s why the coalition also plans to disqualify competitors via law. A new provision would bar anyone twice convicted of “incitement to hatred” from holding public office. The government calls it a step to “strengthen the resilience of our democracy.”

Berlin seems unwilling to recognize a simple political truth: You can’t contain extremist parties by narrowing democratic freedoms. If anything, such measures tend to fuel the populist movements they’re meant to suppress.

Mr. Piatov is deputy head of the politics department at Bild, a German newspaper.