Angela Merkel

by Stefan Kornelius

  An exaggerated prediction? Slightly, perhaps, but geostrategists all agree that the next great ideological confrontation after the struggle between capitalism and communism will be between open and closed systems, liberty and autocracy. “We can see gradual processes of transition ahead,” Merkel once said. “Twenty years is not a long time. The different forces are still developing. Ways in which states can co-exist are only just beginning to form.” She might also have said: I want democracy to win.

  These new conflicts between states are only just appearing. During the recent currency crisis, for instance, the International Monetary Fund asked its members to raise their contributions in order to boost its holdings of securities. Ethiopia and many other states did so, but the United States did not. That kind of thing hurts Merkel, because she sees that here, of all places, the emphasis is shifting. At some point the relationship between contributions will turn into voting blocs, and states other than the USA will determine the policy of the IMF. Sometimes Merkel would like to listen in on the discussions of the Permanent Committee of the Politburo of the Communist Party of China, when the eight men at the head of that mighty land are making decisions. Or she would like to be present at discussions of the Arab League. She would also probably have no objection to travelling back in time to the Politburo of the Social Unity Party of the GDR.

  Whenever Merkel goes to China or other newly prominent states with minimal levels of democratic representation or none at all, she always leaves them with a warning: you are doing well, but human beings require freedom. In her experience, freedom is the prize that comes with prosperity and growth. In her view it is a prize worth having.

  In 2010 Merkel awarded a media prize to Kurt Westergaard, the artist who drew the cartoons of Muhammad. She gave a speech entitled “The Secret of Freedom Is Courage”. Joachim Gauck, who was not yet President of the Federal Republic, but knows a thing or two about freedom, presented the prize. In her address Merkel tried to define freedom – so that no one present could presume to stretch this elastic concept to suit their own personal criteria. Freedom, said Merkel, is concerned first and foremost with responsibility. “On one side stands freedom from something; on the other, freedom to do something. So when we speak of freedom we are always really speaking of someone else's freedom.” Tolerance is required. In Merkel's value system, tolerance comes just below freedom and next to responsibility.

  In this system, responsibility is mainly concerned with politics and the economy. She doesn't like her freedom to be taken lightly. In the financial crisis, as Merkel saw it, the banking economy did just that – it behaved irresponsibly. Merkel can get very annoyed about bankers who come cap in hand to the State after paying themselves enormous bonuses. She not only felt that a blow had been dealt to her understanding of values, but that her authority had been challenged. So she put it in writing for all to read: “The State protects the order of our social market economy.” Merkel feels that the authority of the State was challenged, and she has sworn to restore her own idea of values and order.

  Another item related to freedom in Merkel's value system is courage. “The secret of freedom is courage,” she said, quoting the general and politician of the ancient world, Pericles of Athens. Or, to echo the dissident East German songwriter Wolf Biermann, whom she admires: “Courage begins with overcoming our own despondency.” We have all experienced that, even if we haven't lived in the GDR. Merkel clearly belongs to the club of those who speak their minds – when the moment is right, when she has weighed up the consequences and exhausted all the alternatives, Merkel can be brutally direct.

  In the case of the cartoons of Muhammad, it was about the universal nature of values. It was about who would win in the end – those who are free or those who are not. In her address at the award to Westergaard, she concluded with another statement of principle. To those who ask themselves, “Are we allowed to do it?” she said, “It isn't presumptuousness on our part. Anyone who questions these rights isn't concerned about the good of humanity. No cultural difference can justify disregard for those rights.” Merkel is not a pessimist, she believes in the West as she sees it, and in her own values, although they are sometimes slow to make themselves heard. She also says: “I believe that free societies are more creative, and in the long term develop more workable solutions.”

  Once, during the euro crisis, the Bulgarian Prime Minister, Boyko Borisov, visited the Chancellery and held the usual joint press conference with Merkel. He was clearly still somewhat overwhelmed by what his host had been telling him, in vivid terms, about the nature of the crisis, and told the world: “Frau Merkel quite rightly pointed out that the Maya and many other civilizations have disappeared from the face of the earth.” Is Europe as a civilization threatened by extinction? The Bulgarian Prime Minister looked very serious, the Chancellor looked rather contrite. Obviously she had made the gravity of the situation a little too plain. As usual, however, not many German journalists were at the conference, and so his historic statement went unnoticed.

  Necessary Evils

  The Chancellor and Her Coalitions

  As I mentioned before, Angela Merkel prefers foreign politics to domestic politics. She said so shortly before she was first elected Chancellor, and would say the same today. “Foreign policy is my thing,” she confided to anyone who cared to listen. Or: “Foreign policy is easy.”

  It isn't difficult to find reasons for this enthusiastic openness to the world. Most heads of government prefer foreign policy because it raises their profile: in no arena does a chancellor or prime minister have more creative power, freedom, figure more prominently in the public eye than in his or her dealings with foreign countries. On the domestic front, Merkel has to deal with a coalition partner who can be uncooperative to say the least, a CSU (the Bavarian sister party to the CDU) that has a mind of its own, the Bundestag and the interests of hundreds of MPs. She has to think about the structure of the cabinet, and must never lose sight of the interests of the Länder, or regions: you never know when the Bundessrat, the legislative body that represents the regions, will want to have its say. All this takes place on an increasingly small political playing field, in an over-regulated system where there are laws for everything – and in which the Constitutional Court has the deciding vote.

  By comparison, foreign policy is unhampered. Business between countries is booming, the world wants to be governed and coordinated, natural disasters and revolutions clamour for the attention of government leaders – who are delighted to accept the task. In France and the USA, the President is always the leading figure in foreign policy, steering the ship of state single-handedly. In Germany, however, the head of government doesn't have a comparable level of power. But constitutional reality is catching up, as the national media spotlight focuses on the Chancellor rushing from summit to summit, attending more and more bilateral meetings, presiding over more and more governmental consultations. On top of that, European Union summits are piling up as well. “European policy is domestic policy,” Merkel always says – but she treats it like classic foreign policy, as the prerogative of the country's leader. Politics in Germany is becoming presidential, hierarchical, centralized.

  There are no guidelines for this area of politics, and coalition agreements are traditionally thin on foreign policy. As a result, people feel a need to pad things out. The fundamentals have to be established: what are the Chancellor's aims, how does she see the world, what is her country's position? Before he became Foreign Minister, Joschka Fischer wrote a book in which, over 340 pages, he laid out his world view, the current state of affairs in Germany as far as foreign policy is concerned, as well as touching on the history of ideas. In Great Britain, France and the United States it is taken for granted that the head of state should make declarations about their country's foreign-policy aims. Strategy and vision go together; in the United States they are studied as part of the National Security Doctrine.

  Merkel has never done this. Nor has she ever made a spe
ech on foreign policy that would do justice to these lofty ideals. She has certainly made many speeches, some of them detailing her own plans and beliefs. Anyone who studies them carefully can piece the jigsaw together – a major document on transatlantic politics here, a range of opinions on European policy there – but never a complete blueprint.

  This doesn't mean, however, that when Merkel moved into the seventh floor of the Chancellery she didn't have any plans in this area. Far from it. She is constantly thinking about Germany's precise position on foreign policy, has devoted long sections of her speeches to the subject, collected research from all over Europe and the rest of the world, and created a network of contacts during her travels as Leader of the Opposition. But when she came to power, at first nothing happened. In Merkel's initial statement as Chancellor in 2005, foreign policy was mentioned on page fifteen of an eighteen-page speech. With some reluctance, Merkel included comments on foreign policy in a series of statements on domestic policy. Yet it is worth noting that what she said about Europe, the USA, security and the international institutions aroused very little enthusiasm. The German public still had Schröder's strident voice ringing in their ears. Merkel openly admitted: “I'm not going to fight the battles of the past all over again. Those conflicts have been decided.”

  A hackneyed phrase, but along with a few symbolic acts it should have been enough to restore German foreign policy to its position at the top of the agenda. With his fierce opposition to the Iraq War and President George W. Bush, Gerhard Schröder had already caused enough resentment. Europe was still having to cope with the gaping fault lines that had been opened up by the conflict. And in the east there was Vladimir Putin, the President of Russia, who had taken Chancellor Schröder on a sleigh ride and negotiated new gas-pipeline agreements while the Poles feared yet another German-Russian stranglehold.

  For Merkel, the international political climate was ideal for adapting the circumstances to suit her ideas within the space of a few weeks. George Bush had just been elected for a second term, but he had to contend with a hostile Congress, while public support for his blustering foreign policy was collapsing. Very few of his predecessors had had to face such a bleak prospect of reaching agreement. In Europe, Merkel also met two heads of government whose power was on the wane – Tony Blair and Jacques Chirac. The British Prime Minister had been damaged by his close relationship with Bush; Chirac was coming to the end of his second and final term. The timing of the French presidential election and the political timetable were both in Merkel's favour: in her second year in office, Germany held two revolving presidencies, those of the G8 and the European Union. Something could be made of this situation. With that in mind, she had to spell out where Germany stood with herself as Chancellor.

  The first opportunity to take up a position is always the best. So Merkel used her official visits to Brussels, Paris, Washington and Moscow to make some statements. The French were surprised that this Chancellor didn't immediately bow twice to the Tricolour – as had been the custom of her forebear, Helmut Kohl – but told the President that, with all due respect, she thought his European policy during the Iraq crisis had been divisive. She pulled off a considerable coup in Washington when, with a couple of remarks in an interview, she dispelled any fears that she was too uncritically close to the United States. Shortly before meeting George W. Bush she had served notice, in Der Spiegel, about the need to close Guantánamo and respect the rule of law: no previous Chancellor would have dared to do that in their first few weeks in office. And, since she had given Bush, who was now rather a lame duck, advance warning of her position, no real offence was taken.

  But she sent out the clearest signal in Moscow, when she not only asked President Putin to provide an immediate explanation for what was obviously the politically motivated murder of the journalist Anna Politkovskaya, but also met opposition leaders and critics of the government one evening over vodka and wine. She had always found the testosterone-fuelled friendship of Putin and Schröder objectionable, so there was no mistaking the fact that a new note had been struck. The press was effusive in its praise. Die Zeit spoke of “a critical bow wave” and took stock of the new scope she had given herself. The report spoke of “small steps towards a new self-awareness”, but most striking of all was the following conclusion: “The first secret of her success goes by the name of Schröder. In his last two years in office he brought German foreign policy to a standstill. Lasting damage was done to our relationship with the United States, and Germany was too close to Russia for any criticism to be effective.”

  The Frankfurter Allgemeine noted laconically that at the White House Merkel had made it clear that she belonged to “the school of Helmut Kohl”. That could be read in any number of ways, but the basic message conveyed a sense of reliability and tradition. On the anniversary of Merkel's election – an appropriate distance in time from the event – The Economist wrote: “Merkel as a global star. German Chancellor wants Europe's powerhouse to play a bigger role on the world stage.” And then it added, with a note of concern: “But is Germany ready for that?”

  At this stage, all Merkel had to her credit was that she had restored the situation to what it was before. After his departure, Schröder had left a disgruntled – and intrigued – world behind him. Was this still the post-war Germany – an integral part of Europe and the Atlantic Alliance? Or was something else afoot – was the European giant in the process of reawakening? Merkel felt that Schröder had been excessively drawn to the hard men, while she had always preferred those with a more inconspicuous approach to governing. So she kept her distance from Vladimir Putin, was never really close to Nicolas Sarkozy and thoroughly disliked Silvio Berlusconi.

  But the remarkable aspect of Merkel's realignment was that she didn't take Germany back to the almost homespun postwar order of previous administrations – such as Kohl's – which discouraged any form of criticism, out of fear for a dispute with the country's allies. The boldness with which Merkel acted was also remarkable, as was her personal interpretation of foreign policy. This approach was exemplified by the way in which she first dealt with the problem of Germany itself, in order to see the country play its part alongside other nations, and thus solve the problem of German identity. “If Germany can find its identity and stand by it, that will be good for democracy,” she said after becoming Chairman of the CDU. “A great deal of damage is done by what remains unsaid, concealed. We must develop a sense of our history as a whole, and then say: we are glad to be German. The words come easily to us.” “Glad” is trademark Merkel – it is a declaration, but couched in relative terms: she avoids saying “proud”.

  When the CDU was once more struggling with the idea of identity, insisting that there should be a debate on the Leitkultur (“guiding culture”) in Germany, she deftly evaded the issue during an interview with Der Spiegel – much to the annoyance of the conservative wing of her party. When she was accused of speaking lightly about her home and fatherland, she retorted, “You see it only from the West German perspective – but I see it from the point of view of all Germany. I have grappled inwardly with these concepts, because I couldn't speak openly about them in the GDR. When I use a word like fatherland I don't mean it in an elevated sense. I don't think the Germans are particularly bad or outstandingly wonderful. I am fond of kebabs and pizza, I think the Italians have a nicer al-fresco café culture, and I think there is more sunshine in Switzerland.”

  Then she recalled that in the nineteenth century it took the arrival of the Huguenots and their silkworms to get Prussia to abandon its uncomfortable, scratchy fabrics. But at the end of the interview she became more serious: “I use the term fatherland not to mean that we are the hub around which the whole world revolves. I use it in the sense that this is my language, these are my trees, that is my lake, I grew up here. I like living here. I have confidence in this country, I am part of its history, with all the pain and all the good things.” A disarmingly down-to-earth statement.

 
Merkel's understanding of Germany is also reflected in the way she wants it to take its place in the world, as a more modern, more open country, at home within its international-alliance structures, led by its values and interests – and confident in itself. In a sense this sounds like a classic, one-size-fits-all definition; yet in another, Merkel was able to reassure more sensitive observers around the world. After all, she was only the second head of government since Kohl, the Chancellor who ushered in reunification. At a time when foreign affairs were more prominent than ever, his successor, Gerhard Schröder, had indicated that Germany's position in the world could change. Who could say with any certainty where this stronger Germany would channel its power? Merkel made it clear that one could not change the basic tenets of foreign policy overnight any more than one could reinvent those of health or pensions.

  The most important principle of her foreign policy is that Germany cannot solve its problems alone: the country is part of several confederations and alliances. Europe and the European Union, the United States, the transatlantic alliance in the form of NATO, subordination to international law under the United Nations Charter and an acute sense of duty towards Israel – these are Merkel's main prerogatives. Everything else stems from them: friendship with France, the importance of Poland, the balance of interests in Europe, the euro and being prepared for military intervention as a last resort.

  Regarding Germany's security policy, in 2011 she said in a speech to the Körber Foundation that “our partnership with the USA and the transatlantic alliance forms the basis of our foreign policy”. Merkel often mentions the alliance with the USA before the EU in her speeches, as if she wants to establish an order of precedence – perhaps because she sees, with some anxiety, how America is drifting away from Europe and Germany. Her primary concern is not with guarantees of support or agreements for stationing troops in Europe. America occupies a central place in her world of alliances, because it shares its history, culture and values with Europe – and values are what ultimately hold countries together. In this alliance of values with the USA, in her darker moments Merkel sometimes suspects that America is ignoring its roots or, worse, fails to understand how globalization can sap even the resources of a superpower. Because that superpower could suddenly wake up one morning and realize that although it is large and heavily populated, it has slept through the process of modernization and failed to pay attention to some of its important friends.