RUTHFULLY YOURS

Sunday’s federal elections in Germany produced a clear-cut result. The two right-wing parties came first and second. The Christian Democratic Union (CDU) picked up 28.5 per cent of the vote, while the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party won 20.8 per cent. Together, they will have 360 out of 630 seats in the Bundestag, enough to form a stable coalition that would reflect Germany’s political mood.

But it seems that won’t happen. The CDU, in common with all the other parties, has said that it will not co-operate with AfD. It will now open talks with the Social Democrats (SPD), which was the big loser of the election, falling from 25.7 per cent of the vote in 2021 to just 16 per cent this time round – its worst election result in over 100 years. The CDU and SPD together will have 328 seats, even with a combined vote share of only 45 per cent.

The reasons the other parties give for refusing to work at all with the AfD are partly its policies – the AfD is opposed to the provision of aid to Ukraine, sceptical about membership of NATO and against any sanctions on Russia (ironically all positions now espoused by the president of the United States). More importantly, it’s because Germany’s established political parties question whether the AfD can be trusted to uphold democracy. They also accuse some of its leading members of having Nazi sympathies.

The AfD actually started life as a party that opposed the euro in 2013, and was led by some mild-mannered economics professors. But it quickly shifted its focus on to immigration. It argues for a near total clampdown on arrivals and the large-scale deportation of illegal immigrants. In this, the party is in tune with the mood of the German electorate as a whole. All the polls before the election suggested that voters saw immigration as a major issue of concern. The fact that in the weeks before the election there were several fatal attacks mainly carried out by asylum seekers on members of the public served only to heighten this concern.

Hostility to immigration, or to what is perceived as uncontrolled immigration, is widespread in Europe. But there are two reasons why it is particularly pronounced in Germany. Firstly, Germany has no equivalent of the Commonwealth or Francophonie, institutions that provide some sense of connection with countries of a different ethnic composition. Secondly, German nationality law is based on the legal principle of ius sanguinis, rather than ius loci – that is, it is the bloodline, not the place of birth, that is determinant. Until only last year, dual citizenship was illegal. There are one or two politicians with a Turkish German background, but it is hard to imagine a German equivalent of Rishi Sunak or David Lammy.

The other election winner, the CDU, also took a tough stance on immigration. It is no longer the party of Angela Merkel, who was pretty much sidelined during the campaign. Its new leader, Friedrich Merz, was dumped as chairman of the party’s parliamentary group by Merkel in 2002, and spent most of the following 20 years out of politics, concentrating on a successful career in business. On his return in 2022, he shifted the party to the right, advocating changes to Germany’s economic policies, particularly a reduction in regulation. But he also argued for restrictions on immigration, including controls at Germany’s own frontiers, which is in theory incompatible with EU law.

Merz will be Germany’s next chancellor. But by historical standards his party’s performance was not brilliant. Indeed, it was the CDU’s second-worst performance ever. Having to go into a coalition will limit his ability to implement the economic reforms he is seeking. The most likely new leader of the SPD is Boris Pistorius, the current defence minister, who is popular, pragmatic and a good communicator. But being a junior partner in a coalition has been something of a political curse in recent German history and the SPD will want to distinguish itself from the CDU in any coalition government. Portraying itself as the defender of the German welfare state against the depredations of right-wing capitalism may prove attractive for the SPD, and would further limit the CDU’s room for manoeuvre.

On Ukraine and defence, however, the two parties are likely to find common ground. Merz has demanded that Germany increase its defence expenditure and capabilities and is firm in his support for Ukraine. As is Pistorius. A government led by this duo will be a comfortable partner for Britain’s Labour government.

But if this is indeed how things turn out, there will be questions over the long-term stability of the German political system. A grand coalition (the term used in Germany for a coalition between the CDU and the Social Democrats) is not a natural political construct. The three times this happened before – from 2005 to 2009, from 2013 to 2017 and from 2017 to 2021 – were not Germany’s most glorious years. They were characterised by political stagnation and a failure to renew the country’s economic model.

Nor is it healthy for 20 per cent of the electorate to be permanently demonised as threats to democracy and unworthy of participation in government. Some AfD representatives have used phrases which, though innocuous in themselves, are associated with Nazi propaganda. But the party’s leader, Alice Weidel, is far more circumspect. Instead, she argues that Nazism should not dominate the way that Germany sees its history, and that Germans today should not be expected to continue shouldering the burden of guilt. Many Germans, particularly young Germans, share this view.

The chances are that a coalition government will be put together before Easter. Whether it will last a full four-year term is more questionable. Maybe before the next federal election the CDU will look again at its so-called firewall against the AfD. Rather than simply deriding it as a group of neo-Nazis, it may make more sense to set out what exactly the AfD has to do to make itself a party with whom co-operation might be possible. Simply ignoring it, or the voters it represents, may soon become untenable.

Sir Paul Lever was the UK ambassador to Germany between 1997 and 2003.