Germany, long the anchor of European political stability, is experiencing a quiet unraveling of the centrist consensus that defined its postwar identity. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, who came to office promising economic renewal and firmer borders, now governs with record-low approval as voters in state after state turn away from both the centre-right and centre-left toward the fringes. The loss of cheap Russian energy, the erosion of manufacturing dominance, and unresolved questions about immigration and integration have left many Germans feeling that the country they knew has quietly disappear
Germany's Political Centre Crumbles as Merz Fights for Survival
The German political centre is coming apart
Mark
So Merz came in promising to fix things—the economy, immigration—and now he's in trouble after just two years. What actually went wrong?
Mimi
The elections showed voters don't believe his solutions are working. Yes, growth forecasts went up and border crossings are down, but people still face high energy bills and worry about their jobs. The promise hasn't translated into relief they can feel.
Luke
But we should be careful here. The economic institutes did raise forecasts. That's real. The question is whether voters will see improvement before the next federal election, or whether the damage to Merz personally is already done.
Mark
What about the AfD? They're at 28 percent. How did a far-right party become the country's political weather-maker?
Mimi
They've tapped into nostalgia for stability and order while the centre parties seem unable to deliver either. They've consolidated support in the former East, where people feel left behind, and they've survived scandal after scandal.
Luke
The intelligence services do classify some of their regional branches as extremist, and they're Russia-friendly at a moment when Russia is deeply unpopular in Europe. But they're also winning elections. That's the uncomfortable fact.
Mark
Is Merz actually going to be replaced?
Mimi
No one in his party is openly challenging him yet, despite the rumours. But his approval ratings are at record lows. He's on thin ice.
Luke
The source material doesn't tell us whether there's a credible alternative waiting in the wings. We know people are talking about it. We don't know if there's an actual plan.
Mark
What does this mean for Europe?
Mimi
Germany's political centre is collapsing. That's never happened before in the postwar period. If traditional coalitions can't form, or if the AfD gains real power, it changes everything about how Europe functions.
Luke
True, but we're still in the realm of regional elections. Federal elections haven't happened yet. The story could still move in different directions.
O Pulso
- Merz's CDU has suffered a string of bruising regional defeats — failing even to enter one state parliament — leaving the chancellor politically exposed and whispered about as a liability within his own party.
- The AfD, classified as right-wing extremist by German intelligence, now commands 28% in national polls and is winning state elections, with its co-leader openly declaring Merz's days in office are numbered.
- Germans are grappling with a triple loss of confidence: cheap Russian energy is gone, Chinese competition threatens the automotive sector, and the political consensus that once made the country feel stable has fractured.
- Immigration has shifted from a debate about numbers to one about integration, public safety, and welfare — terrain the AfD has exploited with devastating effectiveness against the mainstream parties.
- Even as economic forecasts inch upward and illegal border crossings decline, the public mood remains dark, suggesting that facts alone cannot repair the deeper crisis of national identity and institutional trust.
- Merz's allies insist the answer is reform and better communication, not a leadership change — but the question of who or what can restore Germany's political centre remains conspicuously unanswered.
Germany, long the anchor of European political stability, is experiencing a quiet unraveling of the centrist consensus that defined its postwar identity. Chancellor Friedrich Merz, who came to office promising economic renewal and firmer borders, now governs with record-low approval as voters in state after state turn away from both the centre-right and centre-left toward the fringes. The loss of cheap Russian energy, the erosion of manufacturing dominance, and unresolved questions about immigration and integration have left many Germans feeling that the country they knew has quietly disappeared. What is at stake is not merely one chancellor's survival, but the shape of the political order that has held Europe's largest economy together for generations.
Friedrich Merz entered the chancellery promising economic revival and tighter immigration controls, positioning himself as a decisive break from the cautious consensus politics of his predecessor. Less than two years later, a succession of regional election defeats has left him governing on borrowed time, with voters describing him as arrogant and out of touch, and quiet talk of a leadership swap circulating inside his own party.
The results have been stark. The CDU finished second in Berlin, was badly beaten in Saxony-Anhalt, and failed to clear the parliamentary threshold in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania. These are not minor reverses — they are symptoms of something larger: a German public losing faith in the institutions and assumptions that shaped the country for decades. The stable, consensus-driven political culture, the export powerhouse built on cheap Russian gas and world-class manufacturing, the sense of national efficiency and purpose — all of it feels, to many Germans, like it belongs to a country that no longer exists.
The economic picture offers little comfort. Growth forecasts have been nudged upward and illegal border crossings have fallen, yet energy costs remain punishing and fears persist that China is systematically dismantling German industry, particularly the automotive sector that once embodied national pride. These anxieties are not abstract — they reach into wages, jobs, and the futures people imagined for themselves.
Into this uncertainty has stepped the AfD, now polling at around 28 percent nationally and winning state elections across multiple regions. Despite repeated scandals and its classification as right-wing extremist by German intelligence, the party has made itself indispensable to a large share of the electorate by channeling fears about immigration, integration, and public safety. Its co-leader Alice Weidel declared this week that Merz's time is running out.
What distinguishes this moment is the simultaneous collapse of both traditional governing forces. Voters are deserting not just the CDU but the centre-left SPD as well, while a resurgent Left party — itself facing allegations of antisemitism — topped the polls in Berlin. Germany is now wrestling openly with questions it has not yet answered: how to rebuild economic confidence without Russian energy, how to manage immigration in a way that restores public trust, and how to hold a political centre together when so many of its former supporters have already walked away.
Friedrich Merz arrived at the chancellery less than two years ago promising to restore Germany's economic vigor and impose stricter immigration controls. He offered a sharp contrast to the fractious, consensus-seeking approach of his predecessor. But a series of regional elections over the past fortnight has exposed the fragility of his position and revealed something more unsettling: the German political centre, long the ballast of European stability, is coming apart.
In Berlin, Merz's Christian Democrats finished second. In Saxony-Anhalt, they were hammered in the polls. In Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, they failed to clear the threshold to enter the state parliament at all. These are not marginal setbacks. They have left the chancellor with record-low approval ratings, and voters openly describe him as arrogant and disconnected from their lives. Within his own party, there is whispered talk of a chancellor swap—a Kanzlertausch—though no one has yet moved openly against him. For now, Merz survives on borrowed time.
The deeper story, though, is not about one man's political survival. It is about a nation losing faith in the institutions and assumptions that have defined it for decades. Germans once took pride in a stable, consensus-driven political culture. The economy was a powerhouse, built on cheap Russian gas and world-class manufacturing. The trains ran on time. The country embodied efficiency. That Germany no longer exists, and many citizens feel untethered from the anchors that once held their national identity in place.
The economic picture is mixed enough to deepen public anxiety rather than ease it. Economic institutes this week raised growth forecasts for 2026 and 2027 above one percent, and illegal border crossings into Germany and Europe have declined year on year. Yet households and businesses still face punishing energy costs. The loss of cheap Russian gas—a consequence of the war in Ukraine—has hollowed out the old export-driven model. Fears persist that China is systematically dismantling German industry, including the automotive sector that once symbolized national prowess. These are not abstract worries. They touch wages, jobs, and the future.
On immigration, the political terrain has shifted. The debate is no longer primarily about the number of new arrivals but about public safety, welfare costs, and whether newcomers can be successfully integrated. These concerns have proven fertile ground for the Alternative für Deutschland, the AfD, a party that alarms security officials with its Russia-friendly foreign policy and whose regional branches are classified as right-wing extremist by German intelligence. The AfD has weathered numerous scandals to emerge as a force reshaping German politics. It now polls at around 28 percent nationwide and has won state elections in multiple regions, most recently claiming victory in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania. Its co-leader, Alice Weidel, declared this week that Merz's time in office is running out.
What makes this moment historically significant is not the rise of any single party but the simultaneous collapse of faith in Germany's two traditional governing forces. Voters are abandoning both the centre-right CDU and the centre-left SPD. In Berlin, the Left party topped the polls—a result that has drawn fresh scrutiny given allegations of antisemitism within its ranks, which the party leadership has denied. The regional elections have exposed the country's deepest fault lines: the erosion of centrist politics and a polarizing national debate over the AfD's role in German democracy.
Merz's allies argue that the solution is not to replace him but to press ahead with necessary reforms alongside the SPD and to find a better way of communicating with voters. Jürgen Hardt, the CDU's foreign policy spokesperson in parliament, acknowledged that the chancellor has work to do on his public image but insisted that swapping leaders would not solve the underlying challenges facing the country. The question of what comes next remains unanswered. Germany is wrestling with realities it has not yet resolved: how to rebuild economic confidence without Russian energy, how to manage immigration and integration in a way that restores public trust, and how to restore a sense of political stability when the traditional centre has lost its grip on power.
Citações Notáveis
Friedrich Merz's days were numbered— Alice Weidel, AfD co-leader
Friedrich Merz knows about his deficits. He will work on him and we will work on us as a party. And hopefully we will convince the people in the next months that we are on the right way.— Jürgen Hardt, CDU/CSU foreign policy spokesperson
Quer a matéria completa?
Leia o original em BBC News ↗