The failure of Friedrich Merz to be elected Chancellor of Germany by his own parliamentary coalition at the first ballot is a huge blow to his authority, for three reasons.
First, it is unprecedented. In the 76-year history of the postwar Federal Republic, no chancellor has required more than one vote to gain an absolute majority, currently 316 members of the Bundestag. Merz received just 310 of the 328 members of the coalition. Even if he can reach the threshold in a second vote, his leadership will remain precarious.
Second, Merz’s defeat may force him to broaden his coalition to include the Greens, who would demand concessions in return. That would require a new negotiation between his own Christian Democratic Union (CDU) plus its Bavarian sister party (CSU) and the Social Democrats (SPD). Germany’s new government would look very like the old one – exactly the claim of the nationalist Alternative for Germany (AfD), which is rising in the polls.
From a British perspective, the lesson is clear: it is easy to promise change, as Labour did last year, but delivering it is hard. And if the mainstream parties fail, there is always a populist one waiting in the wings.
Thirdly, the blow to Merz’s prestige will undermine his ability to unite Europe behind Ukraine and against the emerging Trump-Putin rapprochement. After years of dithering by his predecessor Olaf Scholz, Germany’s allies had hoped that Merz would revive Europe’s largest economy and mobilise its arms industry to resist the Russian threat. But he clearly faces fierce resistance.
Merz’s first challenge is to find out who voted against him. To British eyes, the idea of a secret ballot in the Commons to elect a prime minister seems bizarre. Parliamentary votes are usually open and recorded in Hansard.
But Hitler’s ghost haunts Berlin to this day. In 1933, the Nazis secured the necessary majority to introduce the notorious Enabling Act by intimidating their opponents. The secret ballot is intended to ensure that deputies obey their consciences in electing a chancellor, rather than an aspiring dictator.
Merz was elected in February against a background of war and recession with a mandate for radical change. Even before taking office, he built a consensus for reform of the “debt brake” to allow the government to borrow up to a trillion euros for defence and infrastructure.
On the threshold of power, however, Merz has stumbled. His foes on the Right are exultant. The AfD leader Alice Weidel is relishing the schadenfreude after last week’s decision by the BVS (the German equivalent of MI5) to place her party under surveillance as an extremist organisation.
Senior members of the Trump Administration, including Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio, have openly denounced this measure. Like Elon Musk, they have made their sympathies for the AfD plain, depriving the lifelong Atlanticist Merz of his political anchor.
Having elected a coalition of the unwilling only two months ago, Germans are already feeling buyers’ remorse. The centrist parties who have just sabotaged their leader before he could take office may find that voters are tempted instead by a nascent movement of authoritarians, many of whom admire Trump, Putin and even Hitler.
Friedrich Merz’s bold bid to emulate past role models, such as Konrad Adenauer and Helmut Kohl, has now been vitiated by petty party politics. The “alternative” offered by the AfD, though, amounts to a repudiation of the democratic principles that underpinned West Germany’s postwar prosperity and brought down the Berlin Wall in 1989.
Germany is a nation torn between the unpalatable and the unspeakable. Before too many fatal parallels with the Weimar Republic re-emerge, it is high time for the entitled elites of Berlin to give Chancellor Merz his chance.
The failure of Friedrich Merz to be elected Chancellor of Germany by his own parliamentary coalition at the first ballot is a huge blow to his authority, for three reasons.
First, it is unprecedented. In the 76-year history of the postwar Federal Republic, no chancellor has required more than one vote to gain an absolute majority, currently 316 members of the Bundestag. Merz received just 310 of the 328 members of the coalition. Even if he can reach the threshold in a second vote, his leadership will remain precarious.
Second, Merz’s defeat may force him to broaden his coalition to include the Greens, who would demand concessions in return. That would require a new negotiation between his own Christian Democratic Union (CDU) plus its Bavarian sister party (CSU) and the Social Democrats (SPD). Germany’s new government would look very like the old one – exactly the claim of the nationalist Alternative for Germany (AfD), which is rising in the polls.
From a British perspective, the lesson is clear: it is easy to promise change, as Labour did last year, but delivering it is hard. And if the mainstream parties fail, there is always a populist one waiting in the wings.
Thirdly, the blow to Merz’s prestige will undermine his ability to unite Europe behind Ukraine and against the emerging Trump-Putin rapprochement. After years of dithering by his predecessor Olaf Scholz, Germany’s allies had hoped that Merz would revive Europe’s largest economy and mobilise its arms industry to resist the Russian threat. But he clearly faces fierce resistance.
Merz’s first challenge is to find out who voted against him. To British eyes, the idea of a secret ballot in the Commons to elect a prime minister seems bizarre. Parliamentary votes are usually open and recorded in Hansard.
But Hitler’s ghost haunts Berlin to this day. In 1933, the Nazis secured the necessary majority to introduce the notorious Enabling Act by intimidating their opponents. The secret ballot is intended to ensure that deputies obey their consciences in electing a chancellor, rather than an aspiring dictator.
Merz was elected in February against a background of war and recession with a mandate for radical change. Even before taking office, he built a consensus for reform of the “debt brake” to allow the government to borrow up to a trillion euros for defence and infrastructure.
On the threshold of power, however, Merz has stumbled. His foes on the Right are exultant. The AfD leader Alice Weidel is relishing the schadenfreude after last week’s decision by the BVS (the German equivalent of MI5) to place her party under surveillance as an extremist organisation.
Senior members of the Trump Administration, including Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio, have openly denounced this measure. Like Elon Musk, they have made their sympathies for the AfD plain, depriving the lifelong Atlanticist Merz of his political anchor.
Having elected a coalition of the unwilling only two months ago, Germans are already feeling buyers’ remorse. The centrist parties who have just sabotaged their leader before he could take office may find that voters are tempted instead by a nascent movement of authoritarians, many of whom admire Trump, Putin and even Hitler.
Friedrich Merz’s bold bid to emulate past role models, such as Konrad Adenauer and Helmut Kohl, has now been vitiated by petty party politics. The “alternative” offered by the AfD, though, amounts to a repudiation of the democratic principles that underpinned West Germany’s postwar prosperity and brought down the Berlin Wall in 1989.
Germany is a nation torn between the unpalatable and the unspeakable. Before too many fatal parallels with the Weimar Republic re-emerge, it is high time for the entitled elites of Berlin to give Chancellor Merz his chance.