The
end of Germany’s golden age
Angela
Merkel was great when things were good, but can she lead in darker
times?
By
Konstantin Richter
7/28/16, 5:30 AM CET
BERLIN — A little
over a year ago, on a Saturday in June, a large number of ordinary
Germans filmed themselves doing ordinary things. They sent their
footage to Sönke Wortmann, a well-known director, who cut it down to
a 100-minute movie.
Wortmann’s film,
called “Germany — Your Self-Portrait,” was released on July 14.
It is completely devoid of German angst and it shows families on
rollercoaster rides, seniors having breakfast and teenage girls
hugging each other for the camera. “Friendship is a big issue in
this movie,” Wortmann said in an interview. “Pets. Sports. And
cars, of course.”
But while Wortmann
set out to make a feel-good film, what he released has the feel of a
paean to a Germany that’s on the verge of disappearing. Critics
were quick to point out how dated the footage already looks — like
archival material from another era.
For the past decade,
Germany has been enjoying what will perhaps one day be considered a
golden age. The country’s long-ailing economy ticked up in the
mid-noughties and weathered the recent crises far better than most.
Politically, the nation emerged as Europe’s dominant power. The
national football team, playing a thrilling attacking game, improved
steadily to win the 2014 World Cup.
And perhaps most
importantly, Germany became an attractive place to live. Having grown
up in Helmut Kohl’s dour Germany of the 1980s, I can testify that
the country has become more liberal, more tolerant, more easygoing.
Today, however, that
progress appears to be in doubt. The public mood shifted markedly
after hundreds of thousands of refugees entered the country, putting
a huge strain on resources and institutions. The right-wing party,
Alternative for Germany (AfD), has surged in the polls, benefiting
from widespread fears of mass migration and terrorism. Chancellor
Angela Merkel, at the height of her popularity when Wortmann’s
movie was filmed, now looks weak and vulnerable.
The economy is
showing some signs of frailty, too, with heavyweights Volkswagen and
Deutsche Bank in particular trouble. And then came the violence: an
ax attack near Würzburg, a mass shooting in Munich, knifings in
Reutlingen, a suicide bombing in Ansbach.
In the span of just
a few days, this string of heinous assaults has shaken a nation that
already seemed on the verge of becoming unhinged. Something good has
ended — or so it feels — and we don’t know what’s next.
* * *
Germany’s golden
age pretty much coincided with Merkel’s time in office. When she
ran for chancellor in 2005, the country was just coming out of a
crisis. Then-Chancellor Gerhard Schröder’s economic reforms had
begun to take effect, but Germans, unaware of the recovery, voted him
out anyway. And when the economy took off, it was Merkel who reaped
the benefits.
Today, many worry
the good times are coming to an end. Buttressed by its strong
manufacturing base, Germany emerged relatively unscathed from the
financial crisis. And while other members of the European Union were
rocked by the euro crisis — blaming German-led austerity for their
woes — the country’s exporting industry kept rolling, profiting,
among other things, from a weakening currency. But how sustainable is
this? With much of the world in turmoil, an economy so dependent on
exports must eventually suffer.
And then there’s
demographics. In France and Britain, an aging population is cause for
concern; in Germany, it’s a time bomb. The U.N. has predicted that
by 2030 only half of the country’s citizens will be working. Merkel
thought she had a fix. When she opened the borders to refugees it was
a humanitarian gesture, sure, but it was also an effort to rejuvenate
the workforce.
Merkel thought
Germans would understand. They didn’t. The long-term benefits of
mass migration may, in a best-case scenario, indeed outweigh the
short-term difficulties. But many in the country — especially older
and more conservative voters — only saw the downside. “We can
manage,” Merkel told them, and millions answered in unison, “No,
we can’t.”
For the AfD,
Merkel’s decision was a lifeline. Founded in 2013 by a group of
Euroskeptics, the party had seemed to be in decline. Its members are
a pretty angry bunch, some of them because Germany traded the
Deutsche Mark for the euro, others because they believe that sex
education in schools depraves innocent kids. And the one thing that
gets all of them going is Merkel’s migration policy.
The party’s
leaders aren’t skillful politicians. They lack charisma, and
they’ve made many mistakes. But events like those in Würzburg and
Ansbach, where attackers were recent refugees, will strengthen their
cause, adding evidence to their argument that Merkel’s move has
raised the risk of terrorism. An economic downturn would give the
party a further boost.
What would happen if
a German Donald Trump came along and took control? A couple of years
ago, a journalist named Timur Vermes published a novel called “Look
Who’s Back,” in which Adolf Hitler returned to contemporary
Berlin, becoming first a media celebrity and then a politician. It’s
a satirical book, and it gave many of its readers a good laugh. But
suddenly, with the establishment in crisis, “Look Who’s Back”
seems less like a joke and more like a cautionary tale.
* * *
The relationship
between Merkel and the Germans is at its best when the national
football team takes to the field during the playoff stage of a major
tournament. A player, usually Thomas Müller, scores, and the Germans
cheer. And then the camera swerves to show Merkel applauding from the
VIP box, and the Germans cheer her too.
At this summer’s
European Championships, however, Merkel didn’t show up when the
team reached the semifinals. Maybe she knew people would no longer be
cheering her. The Germans are confused and disappointed by their
chancellor. After shocking her conservative base with her refugee
policy, she alienated her newfound fans on the Left with a
controversial deal with Turkey. No one knows what she’s thinking
anymore, and she’s not talking. The result is obvious in her
approval ratings.
For the Germany
portrayed in Wortmann’s movie, Merkel was the perfect leader. As
long as her fellow citizens were engrossed in sports, pets and cars,
she could steer them safely through minor and major crises. She was
good in late-night emergency meetings with other world leaders, able
to strike complicated compromises that satisfied the Germans even if
they didn’t fully understand the details.
But Merkel has many
weaknesses too, and these days they’re on full display. She isn’t
gifted rhetorically, and she doesn’t know how to convey her
emotions. After these latest attacks, she needs to explain in simple
terms what, in her view, happened over the past year. She must tell
Germans how she felt last September and how she feels now. She should
admit that further attacks are likely, and that she was wrong because
she didn’t see them coming. And then she should stake out a new
middle ground, arguing that, in spite of the violence, it’s still
important to help people in need. That returning to a world with
fortified walls is no answer to the threat of terrorism.
But Merkel is not
the type to make emotional statements. And that’s unfortunate
because Germany is becoming polarized. On one side stand the
guilt-ridden advocates of Willkommenskultur, who believe Germans have
a moral duty to keep borders open for everyone, and that we only have
ourselves to blame when terror strikes. On the other, is the angry
far right.
Missing from the
debate are all those ordinary Germans who starred in Wortmann’s
feel-good project. Someone please tell them it’s their turn to
speak. They need to understand that the Germany they’ve lived in —
the one that is liberal, tolerant and vibrant — cannot be taken for
granted and needs their support.
Konstantin Richter,
a German novelist and journalist, is a contributing writer at
POLITICO.
Authors:
Konstantin Richter
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