John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. When it comes to the war in Ukraine, predictions don’t last long. One minute U.S. President Donald Trump’s acting like his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin’s emissary, the next he’s giving Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy a reasonable hearing, and then it’s back again to the Kremlin camp. With the U.S. administration increasingly taking on the role of unreliable broker over a staunch ally, Europe is in a parlous position. And what has struck me most during a series of security briefings and conferences I’ve attended in Berlin and elsewhere this autumn, is the extent of the alarm. Yet, much of the time, this remains hidden behind closed doors. One of the few crumbs of comfort is that the E3 nations of Germany, France and Britain are seeking to confront this cold reality in unison. After the trauma of Brexit, and all the bickering between former German Chancellor Olaf Scholz and French President Emmanuel Macron in recent years, the mood has changed — because it had to. If Europe is to survive a future attack by Russia — and that is the kind of language being used — its big players must behave in a way they haven’t done before. They must be joined at the hip. As more than a dozen officials have made clear in a series of discussions, the cost of inaction would be far greater than the cost of supporting Ukraine has been so far. Not only would Putin be emboldened to go even further, Europe would also be engulfed by a wave of Ukrainian refugees far greater than anything experienced before. And this realignment was visible amid the pomp and circumstance of German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier’s state visit to the U.K. last week, as both he and King Charles affirmed what they described as a deep bond between the two countries — one that’s been reinforced by the shared threat of Russian expansionism. Meanwhile, the real business taking place at the government level is intense. British Prime Minister Keir Starmer and German Chancellor Friedrich Merz have developed a genuine affinity, stemming from a shared view of current foreign-policy perils and their domestic-policy troubles. A British prime minister of the center-left and German chancellor of the center-right are finding common cause in their double adversity. The loss of the U.S. as a friend in need is what’s forcing this realignment for both countries. Of course, neither publicly dares admit the situation is as bad as it is, but the optics say everything that needs to be said. Just compare Trump’s state visit in September — with its high security, taut smiles and desperate obsequies by his hosts – and the relaxed conviviality of Steinmeier’s. And dominating everything is security — though it’s less a “coalition of the willing” and more a “coalition of the surrounded.” Or, as one German security official, granted anonymity to speak freely, explained: “If the Americans are now acting as mediators between Russia and Europe, they no longer see themselves as partners within NATO.” In practical terms, the U.S. is still the driving force behind the alliance, notionally at least. As another German military figure, also granted anonymity to express their views, put it: “The harsh truth is that Europe’s readiness level to combat any Russian aggression doesn’t yet exist. Until that time, we are reliant on the U.S. to act as a backstop.” But that penny should have dropped last February, when U.S. Vice President JD Vance dropped his various bombshells at the Munich Security Conference, attacking European democracies, praising the far-right Alternative for Germany party and serving notice that the U.S. no longer felt beholden to past allegiances. The real surprise is that anyone’s been surprised by the Trump administration’s actions since then. Even now, some are continuing to cling to the hope that this isn’t the united view in Washington, and that others within the administration still wield a certain influence. This isn’t how security planners in Germany or the U.K. see things, but it seems many politicians — and much of the public — are yet to be convinced of just how serious the situation has become. One minute U.S. President Donald Trump’s acting like his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin’s emissary, the next he’s giving Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy a reasonable hearing. | Pool Photo by Will Oliver via EPA Their alarm will have been reinforced by the second Trump administration’s first National Security Strategy. Published only a few days ago, it condemns many of the liberal values underpinning European democracy, while praising the nativist, nationalist rhetoric of the far-right — and implicitly of Putin.  Previously, the dominant narrative around Europe was about German reluctance, whether brought about by postwar guilt and pacificism or complacency. But while that has been replaced by a new determination, exactly how deeply is it entrenched? The commitment across NATO to increase defense spending to 5 percent of national GDP — 1.5 percent of which can be spent on “critical infrastructure” — certainly allows for much budgetary dexterity. But Berlin’s borrowing power gives it a freedom its neighbors can only envy. Britain’s financial travails are considerably more acute, and for all his tough talk, several defense contractors suspect Starmer is going slow on defense orders. As it stands, Germany is expected to spend €153 billion a year on defense by 2029. France, by comparison, plans to reach about €80 billion by 2030, and the U.K. currently spends £60 billion — a figure set to rise to £87 billion by 2030 — but looking at current predictions, will only hit its 3.5 percent target in 2035. For the governments in London and Paris, budgets are so tight and public service spending requirements so great — not to mention debt interest payments — the push-and-pull with security needs will only become more intense. And while opinion polls vary from country to country and depending on how questions are phrased, the growing concern among many defense officials is that if Ukraine is pressured enough to accept some form of Trump-Putin dirty deal, public support for military spending will decrease. “Job done” will be the sentiment — except, of course, it won’t be. For Putin, it can’t be. The Russian leader has tied his political survival, his power infrastructure and his country’s economy to the notion of an encircling Western “threat.” Hence his recent remarks about Russia being “ready” for war if Europe wants to start one — he simply can’t afford to stop invoking threats. But the original 28-point plan for Ukraine — which the U.S. initially denied came directly from the Kremlin — represents Europe’s worst nightmare. And if a spurious “peace” is imposed by any deal approximating that one, Germany, the U.K., France and their other European allies, including Poland, Finland, the Baltics, Nordics and (more cautiously) Italy, will know they’re out on their own. It would mark the return of big-power politics, a Yalta 2.0. It would enshrine NATO’s de-Americanization, a structural incapacity for Ukraine to defend itself, and confirm that, as far as the U.S. is concerned, Russia enjoys a veto on European security. “We say it’s existential, but we don’t yet act as if it is,” said one British defense official, speaking on condition of anonymity. The task for Merz, Starmer and Macron is then to accept — and admit to their publics — that they only have each other to rely on.

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. One of the most common headlines in the German newspapers used to be a reassuringly long compound noun: Koalitionsverhandlungen. Coalition and negotiations — these were the two words Germany’s postwar democracy was based on, as mainstream parties would come together to forge deals to run the country and the Länder. No group or individual would ever again get close to untrammeled power — a rule that applied not only to the formation of governments but to each and every measure, requiring committees to pore over details, cabinet meetings to discuss the big picture and compromise, and then gain parliamentary approval. Plus, if politicians overstepped, the courts could always restrain them. This system of multiple checks and balances provided reassurance and stability since the establishment of the Federal Republic in 1949. But now, all this is under threat. In today’s new age, deliberative politics is regarded as the antithesis of what is needed. It’s a reappraisal that’s affecting many liberal democracies in Europe — but none more so than Germany, which long advertised the virtues of compromise that are now denounced as vices. Some Germans, particularly those on the right, now negatively compare their government’s approach to domestic and foreign policy to that of U.S. President Donald Trump, asking why Christian Democrat (CDU) Chancellor Friedrich Merz can’t be more like the American leader. Why can’t he bulldoze his way to get what he wants and then bask in the glory, rather than wheeling and dealing with his coalition partners over everything from aid for Ukraine to unemployment benefits. It’s not just the politicians who complain about this supposed weakness either. Much of the German media fulminates about it every day, as opposed to how they embraced compromise before. As a result, Merz has found himself wading through in the worst of both worlds. When recently challenged by one of Germany’s top television hosts about watering down so many of his party’s election promises, he responded: “I am no longer the representative of the CDU. I am the representative of the government. And that government is a coalition of two parties.” That, alas, is no longer enough. Instead, everyone must fight to get their own way in a new form of public disputatiousness that took root during the last government’s three-party “traffic light” coalition. Leading members battled over everything: The Social Democrats (SPD) , then the largest party, pursued their welfare agenda; the pro-market Free Democrats (FDP), which had barely scraped into parliament, controlled the purse strings; and the only thing they could agree on was ganging up on the Greens’ agenda. It was dispiriting to watch, and it came crashing down when then-Chancellor Olaf Scholz fired his minister of finance, FDP leader Christian Lindner, with ostentatious acrimony. All three parties were subsequently punished in last February’s general election, ushering in the new era under Merz. But even before he took the seals of office, Merz was being undermined by all sides — including within his own ranks. Both the CDU and SPD already agree on the reintroduction of military service in some form, and the details being haggled over are just that — details. | Clemens Bilan/EPA The players might be different, but the fighting remains the same. Right before parliament went into recess in July, for instance, several CDU MPs signaled they’d vote against a judge nominated to the Constitutional Court — an unprecedented break with protocol — prompted by a far-right storm portraying the moderately liberal candidate as dangerously left-wing. The vote was postponed, and the judge eventually withdrew her candidacy. Amid fears that a Rubicon had been crossed, both ruling parties then vowed to behave and better cooperate when the Bundestag resumed in September. But have they? Yes and no. In the age of social media, with its onus on brevity and bombast, German politicians are having to relearn their craft. Dogged and discreet participation in committees is no longer the route to success. Therefore, the negotiations required for two or more parties to come together and strike a deal are inevitably being portrayed in an argumentative manner. And it’s a shift that’s taking place across pretty much all areas of government business. For example, both the CDU and SPD already agree on the reintroduction of military service in some form, and the details being haggled over are just that — details. The fundamental question is what happens if the required threshold isn’t met through voluntary recruitment. Is it a form of lottery — absurd, but under consideration — or something else? And yet, the discussions led to a public row between senior politicians. What Merz promised was an “autumn of reforms,” and these are gradually being rolled out. But instead of hailing what is being achieved, all sides are publicly complaining they haven’t got what they wanted, and it’s taking up all the oxygen. Indeed, that is politics — but as ever, there’s also the looming specter of the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) to consider. Still riding high in the polls, the party has five regional elections to look forward to in 2026, including one in the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt, where polls predict it might even win an overall majority — an extraordinary prospect. And the AfD’s promises, such as those to slash immigration, point to a wider phenomenon — the simplification of political solutions — which, again, brings us back to Trump. By riding roughshod over constitutional and societal norms, the U.S. president has changed both the American and global landscape in less than a year. The German political system, which is nearly 80 years old now, was built to withstand the exercise of muscular power. But if the very type of politics that it introduced — the politics of compromise — is now scorned by so many, the onus is on Merz and his ministers not just to deliver on policy but to clearly demonstrate that all isn’t lost for the painstaking politics of reason.

Five days after his election victory in February, Friedrich Merz’s world collapses. That’s how he will describe it later. That Friday evening, he steps off the stage at a large conference center in Hamburg’s port, where cruise ships usually moor. He has just been hailed as “the future federal chancellor,” and more than a thousand party supporters have cheered on their chairman at a rally of the local chapter of the Christian Democratic Union, Germany’s main center-right party. At around 8:15 p.m., he shakes a few hands in farewell, then drops into the backseat of his official car for the three-hour drive home. It is February 28, 2025. Merz checks his phone and notices a message from his spokesperson. He should watch a video, preferably immediately. Merz pulls out his iPad, opens the link, and recognizes a room familiar to anyone who follows politics. Two armchairs upholstered in gold damask sit in front of a fireplace with no fire burning. In front of the fireplace is a table made of fine wood inlaid with an oversized seal. It’s the Oval Office in the White House. To Donald Trump’s right sits a small, bearded man in a black military sweater embroidered with a stylized trident, the national symbol of Ukraine. It is Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the president of Ukraine, a country invaded by Russia. Merz holds him in high esteem. Merz has visited Zelenskyy twice in Kyiv and, just a few days ago, accepted Zelenskyy’s congratulations on his election victory. Ukraine has high hopes for Merz. The new chancellor is expected to finally provide the Taurus, a German cruise missile capable of penetrating bunkers, which Merz’s more liberal predecessor as chancellor, Olaf Scholz, refused to provide throughout his time in office. In the video, Zelenskyy looks tired. Tired and helpless. Merz is dismayed as he watches the U.S. president humiliate his Ukrainian counterpart. Trump accuses him of endangering millions of lives and risking a third world war. When Zelenskyy retorts that it was Russian President Vladimir Putin who started the war, Trump interjects harshly. In front of the cameras, Zelenskyy is scolded like a naughty child for several minutes. “Did you ever say thank you?” Vice President JD Vance asks Zelenskyy, hurling this question at him several times. “That was good television,” Trump says at the end of the meeting. The subsequent talks, which were supposed to be about security guarantees after a ceasefire, are canceled. A fully negotiated raw materials agreement is not signed. The celebratory lunch is canceled. Zelenskyy waits another 20 minutes in an adjoining room. Then, an official appears and simply sends him away. Merz has just finished watching the nearly 40-minute scene when he posts a solidarity message to Zelenskyy in English on X: “We must never confuse the aggressor with the victim in this war!” He is on the phone nonstop in the car until he arrives in Sauerland and then for half the night. He also speaks with Scholz, who would still be chancellor for another two months. Scholz and his designated successor agree that something historic happened that day in Washington. The Americans are threatening not only to abandon Ukraine but also all their allies. Is Article 5 of the NATO Treaty, which requires every member to come to the defense of every other member, still to be taken seriously? Would U.S. soldiers defend Germany against a Russian attack? Are American nuclear missiles still a credible deterrent? The two men agree that given these circumstances, Germany must rebuild its national defenses. As quickly as possible and at whatever cost. And it will cost a lot, between 1 and 1.5 trillion euros over the next 12 years — double the previous amount. Spending that much money on defense isn’t easy. In Germany, the “Schuldenbremse” or “debt brake” is a fiscal rule enshrined in the Constitution. It is designed to limit the amount of new government debt to a maximum of 0.35 percent of gross domestic product. Before the elections, Merz campaigned on keeping the debt brake and insisted as chancellor he could do without extra debt. But in the coming days, Merz will flip his position and agree to this new borrowing. The humiliation of Zelenskyy has changed everything. This account of the election of Merz and his first days as Germany’s incoming chancellor is based on more than 50 conversations with sources, some close to Merz, who were granted anonymity to speak freely. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Merz’s doubts about his prior convictions had been building for weeks. A few days before the general election, Merz met with Vance in Munich. Merz wanted to dissuade the American vice president from publicly urging Germans to vote for the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party. “These are not friends of America,” Merz said, “but partisans of Putin.” Vance nodded in apparent agreement. Just a few hours later, during his speech at the Munich Security Conference, Vance stunned the audience. He declared that restrictions on freedom of speech in the EU are a greater threat than Russia or China. He called for firewalls to be torn down across Europe and for right-wing populists to be included in politics. The vice president did not mention the AfD by name. However, a few hours later, reports circulated that Vance had met with not only Merz, but also with AfD leader Alice Weidel at his hotel before the speech. He had not told Merz about this meeting. Even then, two weeks before Zelenskyy’s humiliation in the Oval Office and one week before the Bundestag elections, Merz had begun privately considering the need for Germany to take on additional billions in debt. “What the new American president, Donald Trump, has said in Washington these last few days…” he told the audience from the campaign stage in Hamburg, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing a fundamental shift in the global political landscape.” Following the Munich Security Conference, Merz discreetly asked former Constitutional Court judge Udo Di Fabio to explore whether it would be possible to amend Germany’s Basic Law with the votes of the outgoing Bundestag. The “Basic Law” is Germany’s equivalent of a constitution. It can only be changed by a two-thirds majority in parliament. That also applies to the debt brake. Getting a two-thirds vote would be possible with the old Bundestag, but not the new Bundestag that was expected to have a higher representation of AfD and other fringe parties. Shortly afterwards, Di Fabio sent him his expert opinion. Amendments to the Basic Law with the votes of MPs who had already been voted out of office were possible up to 30 days after the election. That would be March 25, the same day the new Bundestag would be seated. Merz would have less than a month to execute an about-face. On the day of the election, Merz gave the first public signal that his thinking was changing when he appeared with other candidates on the Berliner Runde, a television program in which party leaders comment on the election as soon as the polls close. “For me, it will therefore be an absolute priority to strengthen Europe as quickly as possible so that, step by step, we can really achieve independence from the USA,” he said. Independence from the USA? Scholz, sitting right next to Merz on TV, could hardly believe it. Until now, European politicians had carefully avoided suggesting that Europe could manage its defense without the Americans. Germany, which has neither its own nuclear weapons nor a robust army, needs American troops and their nuclear umbrella more than anyone. Merz, considered a staunch transatlanticist, was giving up on the USA? “Since U.S. President Donald Trump’s statements last week, it has been clear to me that this administration is largely indifferent to the fate of Europe,” Merz continued. A summit of the transatlantic military alliance is scheduled for the end of June. “Will we even be talking about NATO in its current form then?” he asked. “Or will we then have to establish an independent European defense capability much more quickly?” The next day, when the election results had been tallied, Merz praised the outcome in a press conference: 29 percent was much less than the Christian Democrats had hoped for, but Merz argued it was a success if you look at the number of votes rather than percentage points. The Christian Democrats gained 2.5 million votes compared to the previous Bundestag election, and the Christian Socialists gained 500,000, he noted. What he failed to mention is that the AfD gained over 6 million votes. After an election campaign more polarizing than any in decades, more people turned out to vote than in previous years, and the AfD was the beneficiary. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Merz was genuinely outraged by the scene in the Oval Office. But he also knew he could use this indignation to his advantage. After all, he would need a credible narrative to justify the political turnaround, the astronomical increase in defense spending, that will take place under his leadership. The election results meant that, for the first time since World War II, centrist parties no longer have a two-thirds majority in Parliament. Without a two-thirds majority, centrist parties cannot elect judges to the Federal Constitutional Court, declare war on an invader or amend the Basic Law. For example, to reform the debt brake. The situation is reminiscent of the late phase of the Weimar Republic. At that time, the National Socialists and Communists together held over 50 percent of the seats in the Reichstag, preventing the Social Democrats, Liberals and Christian Democrats from governing effectively — thus fueling growing frustration with democracy. This created a vicious circle that led to the collapse of the first republic at the beginning of the 1930s. Is this a bold comparison? The AfD and other fringe parties already control a blocking minority in the state parliaments of three German states: Saxony, Thuringia and Brandenburg. The same will be true in the Bundestag when the new MPs are seated March 25. Scholz also played a role in urging Merz’s turnaround. In meetings unnoticed by the public, Scholz and Merz met several times in the chancellor’s office after the Bundestag elections, sometimes with other center-right politicians present. At one of these meetings, Scholz presented intelligence service findings on the immense scale of the Russian arms buildup. Despite the enormous losses in Ukraine, Putin would have considerably more tanks and missiles in just a few years than before the invasion. The intelligence suggested he is preparing to wage another war, this time against Europe. Scholz, who campaigned as a peace chancellor, advised his successor to do the opposite: to massively rearm. Germany’s new government coalition joined Merz’s Christian Democrats with Scholz’s Social Democrats. In the days after the election, the coalition partners convened private negotiations to reach a spending plan they could implement before March 25. In those talks, the sums involved increased by the hour. On March 4, when the partners reappeared in public to announce their deal, there was great astonishment. There were no longer any limits to rearmament. Merz secured special funds for a defense build-up over the next 10 years that were five times larger than an increase Scholz negotiated just three years ago. An additional special fund of 500 billion euros had been agreed upon for rebuilding the country’s infrastructure. Why was Merz, the avowed debt hawk, now so willing to push Germany so deep into debt? “In view of the threats to our freedom and peace on our continent, the same must now apply to our defense: Whatever it takes!” Merz said at a press conference. The saying was a quote from Mario Draghi, the former head of the European Central Bank, who used this slogan in 2012 to scare off speculators who wanted to bet on a breakup of the eurozone. Now Merz used the same quote to explain his rearmament plan. At a parliamentary group meeting later that day, Merz reported that he would be traveling to Brussels to take part in the meeting of the heads of state and government of the EU Council. And then he said something curious: “If Trump announces his withdrawal from NATO tonight, then we, the Federal Republic of Germany, will be the first to have reacted correctly in advance.” There was horror among the MPs. Merz was deadly serious. The total turnaround in financial policy began after the shock appearance by Vance at the Munich Security Conference. Merz justified it by pointing to the humiliation of Zelenskyy at the White House. But now he was talking about an imminent U.S. withdrawal from NATO. How did Merz get this idea? Trump was set to give his first speech to a joint session of Congress that same night. Merz explained to close allies later that he had received information from an American source indicating that Trump would use the speech to announce a U.S. withdrawal from the Western defense alliance. He had reason to trust his source. Two weeks earlier, the source had provided him with advance information on Vance’s speech at the Munich Security Conference. Merz held a conference call the night before the speech and warned Christian Democratic leaders that Vance would shake the transatlantic friendship and launch a rhetorical attack on Europe. That is exactly what happened. Merz and his allies were prepared. Warned once again, Merz expected the worst from Trump’s speech to Congress. During conversations and phone calls with confidants, he made it even clearer than he had in the parliamentary group meeting that if Trump announced a NATO withdrawal that night, Putin might react immediately with an attack on the Baltic states. During those hours when he agreed Germany should take on a trillion-euro debt, Merz was acting on the belief that a new war in Europe was possible and NATO was on the brink of collapse. His vote in favor of the record debt came against this dramatic backdrop. As we know, things turned out differently. Trump delivered his congressional speech but did not mention a withdrawal from NATO. To this day, Merz does not believe that his Washington source misinformed him. The NATO withdrawal announcement had been prepared, he believes. Trump changed his mind at the last minute. (POLITICO Magazine asked the White House to respond to the assertion that Trump had considered using his March 4 speech to a joint session of Congress to announce a U.S. withdrawal from NATO. In an emailed statement, White House spokeswoman Anna Kelly said, “Such an announcement was never included in any draft of any speech.”)

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. “He’s a very good man to deal with. He is difficult, but he is a very great representative of Germany.” Wannabe “macho bro” Chancellor Friedrich Merz beamed as U.S. President Donald Trump handed down his version of praise. The compliment could not have been more appreciated. Given that anything could have happened in the Oval Office — with many a humiliation already meted out to several world leaders — Merz emerged surprisingly unscathed. In fact, he did better than that: He acquitted himself as well as any visitor to MAGA HQ could. Unlike French President Emmanuel Macron or British Prime Minister Keir Starmer — his two closest counterparts — he also avoided false pretense. He didn’t put his hand on Trump’s knee or whip out a royal letter. In fact, by comparison, his gift — a framed copy of Trump’s grandfather’s birth certificate — was a little lame. But it set an appropriate tone: restrained and impeccably polite, with the barest hint of a pushback on the vexed issue of America’s blithe disregard of Ukraine. “Job done,” Merz will have said to himself as he settled back into his government jet. The German leader certainly hasn’t been dealt the greatest hand — at home or abroad — but he’s playing it surprisingly well. It’s also worth remembering he’s been in the job only a month. In that time, Merz has embarked on a jet-setting charm offensive, and compared to the tenure of his uncharismatic predecessor Olaf Scholz, the difference couldn’t be more pronounced. But has turbo-charged Merz achieved anything concrete? And does his government have a tangible foreign policy? So far, the German leader has improved relations with France, which were at a worrying low. He’s tried hard to bring the Brits back into the fold, and has made a beeline for Poland — although the far-right victory in last Sunday’s presidential election will likely set back any progress. He’s done the Nordics and attended the ceremonial roll call of Germany’s Lithuania brigade in Vilnius. He’s also struck up a good relationship with the ever-influential Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. But Trump was the first big test. And while Merz’s approach has already paid dividends in terms of mood music in the German establishment, in concrete terms, it hasn’t. This is because of the sad fact that not just Germans but the French and Brits, too, have become mere bit players in the two major ongoing conflicts: Russia-Ukraine and Israel-Gaza. Merz already met with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy in person three times since taking office — in Kyiv, during a European leaders summit in Tirana and most recently in Berlin. However, he’s yet to deliver on the promise he made while in opposition: permitting the dispatch of German Taurus missiles. Instead, he’s gone down the French route of strategic ambiguity to avoid publicly detailing what arms are being sent. And on the biggest question of all — persuading Trump to get Russian President Vladimir Putin to engage seriously in peace talks — neither Merz, Macron nor Starmer seem to be getting anywhere. They’re entirely beholden to the whims of a White House still curiously mesmerized by the Kremlin. The biggest difference is in Berlin’s tone is that Merz has talked of a “strategic cultural shift in foreign and security policy,” transforming Germany from a “sleeping middle power” into a “leading middle power.” “He’s a very good man to deal with. He is difficult, but he is a very great representative of Germany.” | Chris Kleponis/EFE via EPA Minister of Foreign Affairs Johann Wadephul was the first to talk openly about the “5 percent of GDP” figure for military spending — a massive increase from the present-day figure that’s just above 2 percent. Even though this number is only an aspiration, and includes 1.5 percent of what is termed “critical infrastructure” — which can mean pretty much anything — it’s still a step change. Trump himself has acknowledged that. But how quickly it will be reached, or if it will ever be reached, remains to be seen. Meanwhile, structures of government are already being revamped in order to meet these new priorities. After years of procrastination, the Chancellery has established a National Security Council, with an overarching remit on all issues of security. And for the first time in decades, the Foreign Ministry is in the hands of Merz’s ruling party, the Christian Democrats. Where Merz seems most confused, and where Germany continues to be paralyzed, however, is in its approach to the Middle East. Because of its Nazi history, Germany has made the survival of Israel a “reason of state.” And it was particularly struck when reminded that the Hamas terrorist attacks on Oct. 7, 2023 constituted the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust. Yet, both Scholz’s and Merz’s administrations appear unable and unwilling to differentiate between antisemitism and criticism of the devastation Israel has been meting out on Gaza. When France, the U.K. and Canada signed a joint letter threatening Israel with “concrete actions,” Merz stood apart. True, he has criticized Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in recent days, but that criticism was followed by a reassurance that weapons sales would continue. After the U.S., Germany is the world’s second largest supplier of arms to Israel — and its second most vocal supporter. Even in 2024, the previous government approved exports worth €160 million, including engines for Israeli Merkava tanks. But behind the scenes, thinking is beginning to shift. According to surveys, German public support for Israel is falling. Now, Merz’s next big test — and Europe’s — will be the upcoming NATO summit in the Hague. It is being choreographed by the alliance’s Secretary-General Mark Rutte as a gala to celebrate Trump. Contentious discussions are being kept off the table, antagonisms kept at bay, with the aim of keeping the mercurial president from abandoning the West. The exercise in damage limitation is proceeding commendably. So, while Merz may not yet have much to show for himself, his first forays in international diplomacy suggest he is quickly finding his feet.

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. Germany is good at doing things slowly. Six months ago, the country’s last government collapsed, as small-time politicians with big egos could no longer abide each other. Since then, we saw Germany hold a general election, U.S. President Donald Trump come to power and the world plunged into mayhem. In Berlin, however, things have carried on pretty much as normal. The outgoing cabinet continued to run the place in its usual fashion, competently but with little sense of purpose. The economy stuttered on. And political parties did what political parties do — connive against each other. But finally, a new administration is set to launch today. So, will things now change? According to Friedrich Merz, the Federal Republic’s 10th chancellor, his first 100 days in office will be like no other. Germany, he said, will be turbocharged into activity. And from within the ranks of his Christian Democratic Union party (CDU), which was not necessarily brimming with talent, he has been able to produce some surprising yet sensible ministerial choices. His minister for economic affairs, former energy chief executive Katherina Reiche, isn’t even in parliament, but she might know a thing or two about getting things to work. His Minister for Foreign Affairs Johann Wadephul has been strong on Ukraine and seems a popular choice around the world. Plus, the Ministry of Defense is staying with Boris Pistorius who, during the fractious years of outgoing Chancellor Olaf Scholz, was among the few to understand Germany’s need for proper armed forces. Interestingly, Merz’s entire worldview — and pitch to voters — turned on its head in the middle of his election campaign. While he was all about austerity at the start, Merz is now determined to spend his way out of Germany’s malaise. And while he gave the initial impression he might emulate some of Trump’s flourishes, that these two conservative private-sector “bros” would get on just fine, now he’s all about preserving liberal democracy from authoritarians. The remarkable turnaround was the result of U.S. Vice President JD Vance’s infamous speech at the Munich Security Conference — the first time Europe clocked that not only was the U.S. no longer its protector, but it might even be an adversary. However, Merz’s critics — and in his long and turbulent political life, there have been many — say his U-turns were deliberate deceit, and that he had no intention of sticking to the old spending rules in the first place. For instance, the Greens, who opposed the “debt brake” rule that heavily restricted borrowing, have every right to feel double-crossed, as they’re no longer in government. On the other hand, the CDU’s coalition partners, the Social Democrats (SPD), are acting as if they won the February election, even though they suffered their most ignominious result in over a century. The coalition negotiations took less than two months, which in German terms is supersonic. During that time, in his desire to ensure harmony, Merz gave the party much of what it wanted: Seven cabinet posts is considerably more than the SPD was due, and the commitment to continued high welfare suggests structural reform will be minimal. But much will depend on Merz’s relationship with “new-kid-on-the-block” Lars Klingbeil. The SPD co-leader is the new vice chancellor and minister of finance, and both he and Merz have taken note from their predecessors: Scholz’s government collapsed because the man in charge of the finance ministry, Christian Lindner, acted as an in-house opposition. They will seek to avoid that fate. Much will depend on Merz’s relationship with “new-kid-on-the-block” Lars Klingbeil. | Clemens Bilan/EFE via EPA Meanwhile, one area where Merz will undoubtedly shine is abroad. This won’t be too hard, seeing as the charisma-free Scholz somehow managed to antagonize many of his interlocutors — even those he should have been close to, like French President Emmanuel Macron and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. With visits to Paris, Warsaw and Brussels scheduled in quick succession, followed by one to London, Merz has pledged to restore Germany’s role as a major player on the European and world stage. It will be instructive to see how Merz’s somewhat acerbic nature copes with the many crises Germany and the Western world will face. For example, just how candid will he be with Trump when dealing with Ukraine and Russia? He’s already said he’ll reverse the Scholz government’s approach and dispatch Taurus cruise missiles to help Ukraine, which is bound to cause friction. But the key question is how this government will spend its windfall — an extra-budgetary vehicle of €500 billion to overhaul moribund infrastructure and spend on the military, all to be paid somewhere down the line. This extra cash will likely enable Germany to bounce out of recession, but as one diplomat put it to me: “Growth today, modernization tomorrow.” Even though the country’s struggling carmakers may swiftly reconfigure some plants to build military hardware — which is desperately needed — overall, Germany’s still struggling to embrace digital technology. A new ministry has been created with this exact function, but how much it can break through old bureaucratic practices will be the litmus test. After all, this isn’t the first government that’s vowed to drag Germany into the 21st century. Then, there’s the far right to contend with. Merz avowedly insists he’s not a populist, yet we can see the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party’s influence everywhere. The new configuration of the lower house parliament, the Bundestag, has an alarmingly large bank of seats for the party, and latest opinion polls put it neck-and-neck with the CDU. Unsurprisingly, this is alarming many — but it’s still extremely early in the political cycle. Early measures on immigration, starting with enhanced border controls, will be designed to show the government is tough. The SPD will go along with them too, mindful that the AfD has already decimated its vote. This is the start of a new era that just might put a spring in Germany’s step — though that isn’t the sentiment among the “Berlin bubble,” where politicians, journalists and think tanks seem determined to write this government off before it’s even begun. Instead, much talk is of democracy’s “last chance” before the next general elections in 2029, where the AfD could emerge as the largest party. But pessimism and self-denigration are the German national sport. And though the Trump experience has taught us to never say never, Merz will be determined to prove his compatriots wrong.

LONDON — Keir Starmer spent years in opposition studying the electoral victories of two center-left politicians cast in a similar mold to himself. Outgoing Chancellor Olaf Scholz in Germany and Prime Minister Anthony Albanese of Australia were seen by the Labour Party’s top strategists as kindred spirits to Starmer. The U.K. prime minister — who like Scholz and Albanese is often derided by opponents as boring and technocratic — followed the pair’s playbook to win power on a moderate center-left platform that promised drama-free politics in a chaotic age. However, in a year that will see crucial elections held in both Germany and Australia, the prime minister and his top team look abroad and see nothing but peril. Scholz crashed to a devastating defeat in Germany’s Feb. 23 election, a humbling coda to an unpopular one-term chancellorship.  Albanese faces a similar fate when Australia votes by mid-May, after months of poor poll ratings. U.K. Labour strategists now see politics in the two countries not as inspiration — but as a warning. PEAS IN A POD Britain’s Labour Party has historical ties with the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SDP) and the Australian Labor Party (ALP), with years of cross-border collaboration on political strategy and campaigning. SPD and ALP strategists came to London on multiple occasions between 2021 and 2023 to give presentations on how Labour could copy their election victories. One of the biggest lessons Labour took from its two sister parties, particularly the Australian Labor Party, was what its strategists called the “small target” or “ming vase” strategy. The approach meant winning an election with a policy-light platform that centered largely on the weaknesses of its opponents. While Starmer’s victorious 2024 campaign did have some key narratives around creating more wealth for “working people,” it concentrated on getting the Conservative Party out of office after 14 years and five different prime ministers. Starmer’s one-word election slogan — “change” — was emblematic of the mood of the nation and the nature of Labour’s campaign. Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer. | Pool picture by Stefan Rousseau/EFE via EPA Albanese ran an almost identical playbook during his victory in 2022 as he came up against an unpopular center-right incumbent after nearly a decade in power. And while Scholz’s circumstances were slightly different, he still prevailed in 2021 by framing himself as a sensible and pragmatic leader on a policy-light platform. However, Scholz and Albanese quickly discovered the problem with campaigning in this way after actually taking power. Both men faced years of drift amid widespread complaints that they had failed to craft a political narrative or governing purpose for their administrations. One U.K. Labour politician, granted anonymity like others in this article to speak frankly, said the Australian government has failed to “work through a systematic agenda” and has paid the price for it. “Those small incremental changes often add up  to a decent amount of change and reflect the impression of competence,” they added. Albanese now faces the real prospect of becoming the first one-term Australian prime minister in decades. Meanwhile, German-British historian Katja Hoyer said Scholz had been pulled in too many directions by his coalition partners in government. “Scholz is not the kind of person to step in there with strong leadership and say ‘this is where  I want to take the country’ and then align people behind him’,” she said. “He’s just not very likeable — he’s a mix of a bit boring, but also aggressive when he gets challenged by journalists or people.” While Starmer appears to be rising to the moment as Europe scrambles to respond to U.S. President Donald Trump’s Ukraine policy, he has faced a host of similar domestic issues early in his premiership. His inability to enunciate a clear narrative, and months of political infighting after he entered office, led to a major reset in December. Polling from Ipsos, gathered the week before that big reset, showed Starmer was the most unpopular prime minister after five months in office since the firm began conducting approval ratings in 1979. Keir Starmer was not helped by Chancellor Rachel Reeves hiking taxes by £40 billion in November. | Pool photo by Peter Cziborra via Getty Images One European diplomat said: “Scholz and Starmer are quite alike.” “They are both civil servants who have been forced to pretend they are politicians.” Starmer was not helped by Chancellor Rachel Reeves hiking taxes by £40 billion in November. This came after Labour spent the entire election campaign saying only very limited tax rises would be needed for their agenda. Hoyer warned Starmer could face electoral backlash if he governs too far to the left of where he campaigned — especially after recording the lowest vote share for an election winner in modern British history at 33.7 percent. “Scholz’s government ended up being a lot more left-wing than people imagined, including things like lowering the legal voting age [in the EU election] and legalizing cannabis,” she said. LOOKING (FURTHER) RIGHT Starmer also faces a challenge from Nigel Farage and his rising populist right-wing Reform UK party, which now leads many Westminster voting intention polls. Reform has made immigration a signature issue and has attracted many working class supporters in areas that voted Labour for decades — a striking similarity to the AfD in Germany. The AfD is considered more extreme than Reform — it has been accused of planning to deport German citizens, while some of its senior leaders have called for reduced education on the Holocaust — but both parties benefit from similar anti-incumbent political winds. Ryan Wain, the executive director of politics at the center-left Tony Blair Institute for Global Change, said British voters feel there is a “pervasive sense of decline” and said Labour should take the AfD’s surge in Germany as a stark warning. “Our message to this government would be — what’s our transformative agenda? Don’t wallow in decline, but face up to it,” he said. “Unlike in Germany and Australia, I do think Keir Starmer and Labour have recognized the need for that transformation. Certainly in recent months.” The AfD is considered more extreme than Reform — it has been accused of planning to deport German citizens. | Ina Fassbender/Getty Images Labour advisers and strategists say they now have a clearer direction in place to fight off the rising populist tide and learn the lessons from Germany and Australia. In a recent letter to his Cabinet, Starmer set out his vision for how to stop Labour’s traditional working class voters from drifting off to Reform or even the Conservatives. He argued that “too many people feel left out from or forgotten by the political settlement” — and vowed a laser-focus on working-class concerns on topics like wage growth and immigration. “We need to be disruptors — on behalf of those ordinary, working people who just want more security in their lives and a country that is on its way back up again,” Starmer wrote. One government aide, granted anonymity to speak about internal deliberations, said the letter “was a good example of the narrative that can win.” But they warned: “He now needs to ensure we actually have a plan to deliver that promise. And that the spending review [which is expected to include spending cuts] doesn’t nuke it.” If Starmer gets it right, he may find that global center-left parties are looking to him for advice — not the other way around.

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. Friedrich Merz is Germany’s next chancellor. The adherents of the far-right Alternative for Germany party (AfD) believe tomorrow belongs to them. Meanwhile, The Left party is now the parliament’s radical new insurgent. But what happens to the three political parties that ran Germany for the last four years — and technically still do until the next administration is ready? They’ve all been humbled. All of their figureheads are stepping down. So, how will they regroup in a landscape where polarization is the new normal? For the Social Democrats (SPD), the challenge is the most immediate, the danger the most acute. One of Europe’s oldest political forces, the party’s history spans both world wars. Its role in German life has never been questioned, and because of how the country’s voting system functions, it’s regularly in government as either the leading or second party. Barring a failure to agree on a new coalition deal in the coming weeks — something that would plunge Germany into crisis — the SPD will once again be in power, but it will be the (very) junior member of the Merz’s coalition. And as the Christian Democrat (CDU) chancellor has returned his party to its conservative roots, this one won’t be a government in the SPD’s image. Neither party has much of a choice here, as the electoral arithmetic makes other coalition permutations almost impossible. And for the SPD, this will be make or break. If the next government fails to significantly deliver on its top priority — improving the standard of living, particularly for the less advantaged — it will face a possible wipeout, with the AfD sweeping up its remaining working-class support. The SPD’s stunning all-time low result of 16.4 percent demonstrates the extent to which it’s being punished for the failures of the last administration. However, like many other established center-left parties across the world, for decades now, the SPD has failed to give a coherent sense of what it stands for and has been losing touch with its traditional voters. Support for the party first began to drop toward the end of the 2000s, with the SPD receiving 34 percent of the vote in the 2005 federal elections and 23 percent in 2009 — a drastic decline from 41 percent in 1998. Nowadays, it would love to achieve even the lowest of those figures. The SPD’s systemic problem is that the country’s needs and the party’s pitch face in opposite directions. When Scholz pledged €100 billion in defense spending and military support for Ukraine just days after Russia’s invasion began, he was going against a long tradition of Ostpolitik — a policy that saw Germany formalizing ties with the Soviet Union under the party’s most hallowed figure, former Chancellor Willy Brandt. Later, in the early 2000s, then-Chancellor Gerhard Schröder dispensed with the party’s deep-rooted welfarist approach, seeking to revive a stagnant economy by cutting benefits and deregulating labor markets. The very mention of these reforms prompts the fury of SPD old-timers, even to this day. With the incoming Merz administration’s focus on more military spending, tax cuts, welfare cuts and migration curbs, the SPD’s pain will be even more acute. Even though Scholz will be out of the picture, the dilemmas faced by his party will remain. And what exactly does a center-left party stand for when both the far right and the far left can appropriate its voters? The Greens, meanwhile, will now have a holiday from the terrible compromises required of governance, and can lick their wounds. A party synonymous with tackling climate change, the Greens relegated their central theme to an afterthought during their election campaign. And while that may have made immediate sense at the time, with climate activism being denounced by mainstream politicians and media alike, the tactic failed to galvanize the party’s core and to attract new voters. The SPD’s stunning all-time low result of 16.4 percent demonstrates the extent to which it’s being punished for the failures of the last administration. | Andreas Rentz/Getty Images The Greens’ principled position in support of Ukraine and defense spending also divided its members, some of whom still cling to the “salon pacifism” of old. With outgoing Minister for Economic Affairs Robert Habeck calling time on his political career at the age of 55, left among the party’s so-called realos — its moderate wing — is outgoing Minister for Foreign Affairs Annalena Baerbock, who performed well under difficult circumstances. But we will now likely see the party’s fundis — its radical wing — use the “purity” of opposition to push a more uncompromising agenda. Finally, we come to the Free Democrats (FDP), the third party of the soon-to-be-disbanded “traffic light” coalition. A party that now faces oblivion. For Germany, the FDP have always been a curiosity. Its starting point — pro-enterprise, low tax, low regulation — would be considered mainstream in many other countries, particularly Anglo-Saxon ones, but here in Germany, it’s long been regarded as a fringe position. This isn’t the first time FDP failed to meet the 5 percent threshold required for representation in the Bundestag. But with Merz shunting the CDU away from its former centrism and toward more free-market principles, the FDP has nowhere to go. Out of parliament, the party will also have far less media exposure. But at least its leader, former Minister of Finance Christian Lindner — the guiltiest of the various guilty men (and yes, they were all men) who undermined the last government — will be gone.  When the Federal Republic was formed in 1949, it was to contain three parties: the CDU, the FDP and the SPD – representing the center left, middle and center right. The political space wouldn’t accommodate, let alone tolerate, others. The Greens then joined several decades later and have long been considered part of the political establishment. But now, everything has changed, and new parties on the extremes menace the status quo. So, Merz has four to five years not just to breathe new life into the CDU, but to ensure the country’s political constellation isn’t broken for good.

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. In times of crisis, Germany’s current crop of politicians revert to type. They promise change, then they explain why that change will have to wait. That’s what Chancellor Olaf Scholz has done throughout his ignominious four-year tenure. Upon his arrival in Paris this week, joining an emergency meeting to discuss the bombshells dropped by U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration at the Munich Security Conference, the outgoing chancellor’s soundbite spoke volumes. Asked if he was ready to commit Germany to a European peace-keeping force in Ukraine, he replied: “Unfortunately, we are still a long way off” that moment. Earlier, at a campaign rally in the city of Kassel, the Social Democratic (SPD) leader had offered a similarly vague platitude: “We have to make sure that Europe overcomes the challenges of the future in a strong and sovereign manner, and with its back straight.” Hardly a sentence that will have the White House quaking in its boots. Thus, as Germany heads to the polls this Sunday, in possibly the most consequential postwar election it’s seen, the only crumb of comfort for an embattled European continent — and for Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy — is that Scholz will shortly be no more. Opinion polls haven’t wavered in their prediction of a comfortable Christian Democrat (CDU) win, and the likelihood is that party leader Friedrich Merz will form the next administration. While the CDU leader has many faults, not least the habit of shooting from the hip, lack resolve isn’t one of them. So, will this finally be the moment Germany steps up? Merz gives every impression he wants to be a different kind of leader than both Scholz and his predecessor Angela Merkel. He’s waited a long time for his moment, and at the age of 69, he may only have one shot at the chancellorship. He will have three enormous tasks: toughening Germany’s asylum system — an even more urgent challenge after the recent spate of terror attacks; kick-starting an ailing economy; and transforming his country’s armed forces. And in order to fulfill the last two of these priorities, he’ll need to loosen the constitutional brake on borrowing, something he’s hinted he’s prepared to do. This isn’t just about money — it’s about leadership. Scholz had his moment in February 2022. His Zeitenwende (turning point) speech, delivered just a few days after Russian President Vladimir Putin ordered the invasion of Ukraine, suggested that he and Germany were finally prepared to invest in hard power to defend democracy. And Scholz’s popularity skyrocketed. But instead of actually developing this new robust approach, Scholz pared it back. He succumbed to the “salon pacifists” that remain a force inside his party. And while Germany did end up becoming Ukraine’s largest military donor, the support was often late and didn’t include the most lethal weapons system that Kyiv had begged for. Apart from Poland and the Baltic states — all countries bordering Russia — Europe as a whole has fallen short, only recently hitting the 2 percent of GDP defense spending target that former U.S. President Barack Obama pleaded with NATO to meet back in 2014. And now, Merz and other European leaders need to contend with the 3 percent Trump is demanding. As the new White House appears ready to stitch up a tawdry deal with the Kremlin, Germany’s attention should turn not only to defending Ukraine from Russia but to protecting Europe from the twin threats of Trump and Putin. The cavalier contempt U.S. Vice President JD Vance and others in Trump’s entourage displayed toward Western democracy — or at least Europe’s interpretation of Western democracy —affects Germany in particular. From next week on, Friedrich Merz will likely have to begin the task of forming Germany’s new government with either the SPD or the Greens — or possibly both. | Kirill Kudryavtsev/AFP via Getty Images By ostentatiously meeting with Alternative for Germany (AfD) party leader Alice Weidel (while shunning Scholz), and calling for the removal of Germany’s “firewall” against the far right, Vance, in effect, endorsed the AfD a week before election day. Tech billionaire Elon Musk’s love-in with Weidel might be dismissed as the quixotic utterances of a maverick, but this is different — and even more sinister. It’s also leading many Germans to wonder whether the U.S. is any more its protector or its foe. German politicians didn’t hold back in their criticism, with the most telling response coming from the Greens’ chancellor candidate and current Minister of Economic Affairs Robert Habeck: The U.S. government “rhetorically and politically sided with the autocrats,” he said. “The Western community of values was terminated here.” Enter Merz. From next week on, he’ll likely have to begin the task of forming Germany’s new government with either the SPD or the Greens — or possibly both. He has told them he won’t brook any delay or excessive haggling. Germany faces too many crises on too many fronts for delay. After the acrimonious disintegration of the three-party “traffic light” coalition, the pressure to conclude these negotiations swiftly and productively will be strong. The mainstream parties will need to demonstrate to voters — and their American critics — that they can produce a resilient administration, which can then begin the task of showing that Europe counts. However, that requires a courageous Germany, led by a courageous chancellor. Does Merz have what it takes?

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. This is a tale of two cities, two streets and an unlikely divergence that speaks volumes about the state of politics in Europe today. Parisian authorities are forging ahead with plans to make the city 100 percent navigable by bike. On the Rue de Rivoli, one can pedal serenely in the knowledge that one lane is solely for cyclists, the other reserved for buses. Meanwhile, in Berlin, the first major decision taken by the incoming senate was to reopen one of the most famous thoroughfares, which had been partially closed off to vehicles. On Friedrichstrasse, where one could previously drink a coffee on wide wooden benches in the middle of the road, the cars have returned. So, as Germany heads to the polls on Feb. 23, the country once seen as a climate trailblazer is now in danger of becoming a laggard. And the Christian Democrats (CDU) — the party almost certain to lead the next government — is on a mission to dilute environmental targets, with leader Friedrich Merz framing all things green through the now-familiar “woke” and “anti-growth” lens. It’s no coincidence that environmental policies were barely mentioned in the first televised election debate between the CDU leader and Chancellor Olaf Scholz. Instead, the questions ranged from migration — which dominated the discourse — to cost of living, kindergarten locations and an arcane battle over the use of gender in the German language. In a recent stump speech in Bochum, the industrial heartlands of the Ruhr, Merz had already stated that the economic policy of recent years had been geared “almost exclusively toward climate protection. I want to say it clearly as I mean it: We will and we must change that.” Along these lines, the chancellor-in-waiting has vowed to scrap subsidies for environmentally friendly heat pumps (which brought the Greens so much political trouble last year). He has also described wind turbines as “ugly,” and vowed to bring back nuclear energy. Of course, some of this is clearly performative — technologically speaking, a nuclear comeback won’t happen — but it is central to Merz’s strategy to give the CDU a more distinctive conservative direction after the centrist era of former Chancellor Angela Merkel. And just how far he goes in rolling back some of the progress will depend on the party’s eventual coalition partner. Friedrich Merz is framing all things green through the now-familiar “woke” and “anti-growth” lens. | Maja Hitij/Getty Images As it stands, an alliance with the Social Democratic Party (SDP) — without Scholz — seems the most likely outcome, not least because they’re less likely to stand in Merz’s way on the environmental front. Across the Western world, the green movement is on a downward slide. It isn’t just the case in Donald Trump’s America — U.K. Prime Minister Keir Starmer has signaled a British version of “grow, baby, grow” by approving plans to expand three of London’s airports. And though the mayor of Paris is pushing hard to green the capital city, French President Emmanuel Macron is showing far less enthusiasm than before. When Scholz assembled his “traffic light” coalition in December 2021, the Greens were a pivotal player. Having secured a record share of the vote, the party was joining the government for the first time since 2005. And as Robert Habeck — the party’s current candidate for chancellor — took over the country’s Ministry for Economic Affairs with an expanded environmental brief, expectations were high. Then, two months later, came Russian President Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. Suddenly put on a war footing, Habeck’s task was to improvise a new energy policy and extricate Germany from Russia’s clutches. He was on the hunt for secure energy from anywhere, whatever the source, and that included going hat in hand to places like Qatar for supplies of LNG. The government’s record hasn’t exactly been disastrous, but it has, indeed, been patchy. It has secured some clear successes, particularly in renewable energy — wind and solar power provided 47 percent of Germany’s electricity in 2024, up from 31 percent in 2021. And emissions have steadily fallen, just not at the rate that was hoped for. As a result, Germany is expected to fail to meet its goal of cutting 65 percent of greenhouse gases by 2030, compared to 1990. According to a report by the country’s Council of Experts on Climate Change last week: “In light of the new geopolitical situation and the cyclical and structural weakness of the German economy, the conflicting objectives of climate protection policy with other policy areas are becoming increasingly apparent.” The language here is studiously diplomatic, but with the target of 1.5 degrees Celsius now a pipe dream, the commission also noted: “The comprehensive embedding of climate policy measures into an overall political strategy is now more important than ever.” The biggest problem here remains Germany’s car obsession. Too many combustion engine cars are being registered, while sales of electric vehicles fall — just like in other countries. Germany was asleep at the wheel in the first phase of electrification — one of its many failures in innovation. And as spending on infrastructure atrophied, the unreliability of the once-envied Deutsche Bahn has become embedded in the national psyche, leading more people to return to the roads. It would be unfair to suggest Merz is hostile to the green agenda, per se, but he’s using hostile rhetoric for a reason, trying to portray the cause as inimical to economic recovery. Truth is, he’ll only get so far. Many targets have already been embedded into the German economy and cannot be unpicked. Whether part of the next government or in opposition, the Greens aren’t going to just disappear — even as the Left party appears to have swallowed up a chunk of the Green vote in recent weeks. Indeed, the party has fallen from its high of 15 percent, but not by much. Acknowledging just how much the mood has turned, though, even the Greens themselves don’t mention climate protection that much on the campaign trail. They’d rather talk about housing and health care instead. Meanwhile, Habeck is caught in between, the whipping boy for both sides, denounced as metropolitan and “woke” by populists and as a sellout by the left. Much of the movement’s impetus has dissipated — for the moment at least.  

John Kampfner is a British author, broadcaster and commentator. His latest book “In Search of Berlin” is published by Atlantic. He is a regular POLITICO columnist. You know that Christian democracy is in trouble when the churches condemn it. Over the past week, much of Germany’s attention has been focused on huge protests against Christian Democratic Union (CDU) party leader Friedrich Merz for his flirtation with the far right, and former Chancellor Angela Merkel’s pointed criticisms of her abrasive successor. However, less was made of a joint statement released by the Protestant and Catholic leadership attacking the language in Merz’s controversial legislative plan. The religious leaders warned the proposal was “likely to defame all migrants living in Germany, to stir up prejudices and, in our opinion, not contribute to solving the real issues.” Religious denunciations matter in a country where citizens must make considerable effort to opt out of paying an obligatory church tax, and for a party that’s dominated postwar politics and has strong religious links. (The clue is in the name.) And that very party, the CDU of former chancellors Konrad Adenauer, Helmut Kohl and Merkel — as well as much of the country — was deeply shaken by Merz’s decision to try and convince the parliament (twice) to back stringent measures against immigration. Measures he knew had little chance of success without the support of the extremist Alternative for Germany (AfD) party. Despite the fury, Merz has stood firm, with most of his party standing by him. And as the febrile campaign hurtles toward the finish line on Feb. 23, the initial soundings are that his core vote remains behind him. Indeed, according to a post-crisis poll released Thursday, his personal popularity rating and party position are slightly up. More polls are expected imminently, but whether they confirm this trend or not, it’s a different party that Merz is now leading. The death knell for traditional Christian democracy has been sounded. And Germany’s merely following a worldwide trend that’s seen established conservative parties shed their traditional identities. The Republicans in the United States may still have their name, but under President Donald Trump, they’ve severed their relationship with past administrations. Even former presidents Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan or George W. Bush wouldn’t recognize their own party. In the U.K., today’s post-Brexit Conservatives bear no resemblance to the party that based itself in a patrician conservation of tradition after the war. Yes, during the 1980s, then-Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher shook that tree vigorously, but even she broadly adhered to the postwar consensus. That has long gone. Tories now see their very existence as under threat and are trying to emulate Reform UK — the party to their right. Likely, they’ll eventually either form a coalition with Nigel Farage’s party or be subsumed by it. Meanwhile, across European countries with proportional voting systems, it has become commonplace for center-right parties to jump into bed with the far right (other centrist and leftist groupings have sometimes joined them too). Following this pattern, just this month, Belgium joined, inter alia, the Netherlands, Italy, Finland, Hungary, Croatia and Slovakia. Austria is around the corner, and the Czech Republic not far behind. Of course, administrations have always come and gone, but what’s now indisputable is that the extreme and fringe has gone mainstream. The cordon sanitaire is disintegrating. According to a post-crisis poll released Thursday, Merz’s personal popularity rating and party position are slightly up. | Sean Gallup/Getty Images Even in places where centrists, or purported centrists, dominate, they’ve adopted much of the language and many of the practices of populists. In France, for example, the remarks by Prime Minister François Bayrou on how people are feeling “submerged” by immigration were hailed by the far-right National Rally, taken as evidence it had “won the ideological battle.” This is about far more than just coalitions and deals. It is the death of one political tradition and replacement by another. Some might argue this is inevitable — after all, eight decades might be considered a respectably long innings. Some might even see it as desirable that the social mores that defined a previous era are being discarded. The irony with Merz is that he hails from the Sauerland, a region of central Germany that epitomizes the bürgerlich stolidity of old — the three Ks of Kinder, Küche, Kirche (children, kitchen, church). He also regularly attends mass, so the churches’ criticism will have stung. But it’s not just social norms that are being culled, it’s also other principles that underpinned the postwar consensus — such as rule of law and the authority of international institutions, which Germans hold dear more than any other — that are being torn asunder. Perhaps the most important of these axioms was economic: the confidence that each generation would be more financially secure than the previous one. The 2007–2008 financial crisis was a shock to this system, but crashes had happened before. More enduring, and more politically damaging, was the economic system’s inability to recover — or at least to deliver for most voters. None of the emergent new parties have much convincing to say about the economy, though. Indeed, they’re divided between small-state neoliberalism (of the Brexiteer “Singapore-on-the-Thames” variety) and statist market interventions (like the national socialism, pun intended, of Germany’s far-right-meets-far-left Alliance Sahra Wagenknecht). Trump is looking both ways at once. Merz’s “Agenda 2030” firmly belongs in the former school of thought. After two years of seemingly immutable recession in Germany, the CDU leader promised to lower taxes for companies and households, “dismantle” bureaucracy and foster investment in research and development. His party program also involves unpicking green regulations and cutting welfare benefits introduced by the current coalition. From the moment he took over the party in 2022 — after a decade of waiting — Merz had promised to be radical. Aged 69, he firmly belongs to the postwar baby-boomer generation of Germans who saw dogged stability as a mechanism for survival, and as epitomizing their country’s new brand. But he decided to dispense with that. Even though it’s unclear what will follow — Merz will still have to form a coalition with other more centrist parties — old-school conservatism is over. Now that he’s started, does anyone really believe he really won’t work with the AfD in the future? The name, Christian Democrats, may stay the same. But the takeover is well underway.