Germany allows its citizens to vote for 25 years following their emigration, so I still qualify – though only just.
Although they received my registration months before the election, I did not receive my ballot papers until Saturday, 22 February – precisely one day before the election. The postmark showed they were sent from Germany on 10 February.
Had German efficiency not become an oxymoron, perhaps they might have considered that mail to New Zealand takes at least four weeks for a round trip – just under two weeks to reach me and two more to return. Under German law, postal ballots must arrive at the local election office by 6pm on election day – a physical impossibility from this part of the world if sent that late.
Of course, this being Germany, I could not have voted electronically either – not even by fax, which, in a technological time twist, still exists in bureaucratic Germany.
I could not have voted at the German Embassy, either. In fact, not even German diplomats can.
Germany’s ambassador to the United Kingdom, Miguel Berger, posted on social media that his ballot papers never arrived in London (never mind that London is closer to Berlin than Wellington). Tens of thousands of Germans abroad faced the same situation.
The German election process is symptomatic of the country as a whole: Nothing works as it should.
Even so, somewhat miraculously, the election produced a result. The Christian Democrats’ leader Friedrich Merz will likely become chancellor. If so, he will lead a coalition involving his Christian Democratic Union (CDU – and its Bavarian sister party CSU) and the Social Democratic Party (SPD).
Since their establishment in the late 1940s, the CDU and the SPD have dominated politics, first in West Germany and then in the re-unified Federal Republic. For example, in the 1980 West German election, CDU/CSU and SPD had 87 percent of the votes between them. An alliance between these parties would once have been called a “Grand Coalition.” But there is nothing “grand” about it anymore.
Last weekend, the CDU/CSU secured just 28.5 percent of the vote, while the SPD managed only 16.4 percent. Their combined 45 percent barely constitutes a parliamentary majority. It was achieved only because about 15 percent of votes went to parties that failed to clear the five percent threshold for parliamentary representation. That is a far cry from when these parties had up to 90 percent between them. It is weird for me to write about Germany these days because I barely recognise the country of my birth.
As someone born in 1975, I have witnessed Germany’s decline firsthand. I grew up in a prosperous West Germany, already past its “economic miracle” but still a model of efficiency. I was 14 when the Berlin Wall fell and 15 when reunification made Germany whole again.
When I left Germany in 2004, during the final years of Gerhard Schröder’s chancellorship, the country was grappling with a severe economic crisis. Since then, I have observed from abroad – first from London, then Sydney, and eventually Wellington. I still maintain several online newspaper subscriptions from Germany, listen to German podcasts and keep in frequent contact with friends and family. From afar, I can sometimes barely believe the decline, but each time I visit, it hits me. It is one thing to read and hear about it, but in Germany these days, you can see it everywhere. Just take a train. Or walk down once prestigious inner city shopping streets. Let alone have a look at the toilets of an ordinary state school. The signs of decline and decay are everywhere.
It is hard to answer when people ask me what happened to Germany or what went wrong. But that is only because I do not even know where to start. The country went in the wrong direction in so many different areas – and it did so all at once.
Was it Germany’s hostility to technological change? Its overburdening bureaucracy? Its corporatist industry structures? Its semi-state-controlled banking system? Its naïve refugee policy? Its lack of infrastructure investment? Its crazy energy policy that made it reliant on Russian energy imports? Its freeriding on American defence and neglect of its own armed forces? Its sometimes-arrogant foreign policy vis-a-vis its neighbours? Its focus on exports to China?
In truth, it was all of the above. It was not a single issue that got Germany into its current state but multiple mistakes, events and systematic errors. The combination presents a monstrous challenge for the next government. Because many of these issues are interrelated, they cannot be reformed in isolation.
The decline is perhaps most visible in Germany’s once-proud infrastructure. Deutsche Bahn, the railway system, was once renowned for precision. They even had an advertising slogan “Alle reden vom Wetter. Wir nicht.” – “Everybody talks about the weather. Not us.” Nowadays, trains routinely arrive late (rain, hail or shine), if they arrive at all.
When the government tried to encourage public transport use during the energy crisis with €9 monthly passes, the extra demand collapsed an already overburdened system.
The economic indicators are equally alarming. The vaunted auto industry, which directly or indirectly employs one in seven Germans, failed to anticipate the electric vehicle revolution. Now, German carmakers are playing catch-up with Tesla and Chinese manufacturers.
Meanwhile, chemical giant BASF is scaling back its German operations; BMW is shifting production eastward; ThyssenKrupp struggles to remain competitive. These are just some large and obvious companies. Company closures and relocations abroad are happening right across Germany Inc.
Energy costs have soared above those of European neighbours – the result of policy decisions made with good intentions but disastrous consequences. After Fukushima, Chancellor Angela Merkel abruptly abandoned nuclear power, not based on strategic assessment but because polls showed public anxiety ahead of some state elections. This increased Germany’s dependence on Russian gas, but environmental idealism prevailed over energy security and economic pragmatism.
These developments did not occur in a political vacuum. When I left Germany during Schröder’s chancellorship, Germany was implementing painful but necessary labour market reforms that would later revitalise the economy. Schröder paid the political price for these reforms but had laid the foundation for the prosperity that followed. What Germany needed next was a leader to build on his framework with a strategic vision.
Instead, it got Merkel. Her 16 years in power were characterised by tactical drift – strong on day-to-day political manoeuvres but without any strategic thinking to steer them. Her recent 720-page memoir reveals that Merkel never had a long-term plan for anything. It was all process, no strategy.
Merkel moved her Christian Democratic party leftward on every major issue – from nuclear power to migration – creating space for populist challengers on the right like Alternative for Deutschland (AfD).
When confronted with crises, Merkel’s approach was always to postpone difficult decisions. Her Russia policy, despite her claim that she “never had illusions about Putin,” left Germany strategically vulnerable – and Germany’s eastern European neighbours furious. Her unilateral decision to admit more than a million refugees in 2015 created integration challenges that will take generations to resolve.
Still, the Germans voted for her four times, and she remained popular when she left office. No wonder her successor, Olaf Scholz, campaigned as Merkel’s natural heir – another reliable, steady leader who would manage without drama.
The reality proved different. His “traffic light” coalition was meant to unite parties that were ideologically miles apart: Social Democrats (traditional colour: red) pulling left on spending, Greens (green) pushing for climate measures, and free-market liberals (yellow) demanding fiscal discipline. Such divisions would have required exceptional leadership to create coherence. Instead, Scholz could not manage even basic communications between his coalition partners.
Like Merkel before him, Scholz rarely led but waited for circumstances to make decisions for him. When Russia invaded Ukraine, he dithered for months over sending tanks until the US promised to do so as well. Never mind, he had promised a ‘Zeitenwende’ – a ‘turning of the times’. If only. By the time his coalition collapsed, Scholz’s approval ratings had fallen to the lowest ever recorded for a sitting chancellor.
These internal failings have had profound geopolitical consequences. Germany’s relations with France and Poland have deteriorated to post-war lows. Within NATO, Germany has become known as an unreliable ally, failing to meet the 2% GDP defence spending target despite repeated promises. The Bundeswehr – once a formidable Cold War force – has descended into such disrepair that German soldiers reportedly trained with broomsticks instead of gun barrels during a NATO exercise due to equipment shortages.
Friedrich Merz inherits this perfect storm of challenges. Unlike his predecessors, at least he speaks plainly about Germany’s problems rather than hiding them in bureaucratese.
Yet Merz will not have a free hand. The mathematics of coalition-building in a fragmented parliament and with the AfD’s status as the pariah of German politics means he must govern with the Social Democrats, who will resist a complete break with past policies.
While he may achieve tougher migration policies and a more robust defence stance, the deeper rot in German governance – from crumbling infrastructure to bureaucratic sclerosis – will require more fundamental reforms than any coalition will likely deliver.
The combination of Merkel’s 16 years and Scholz’s three has left problems too deep for quick fixes. That is the price Germany must pay for too many years of politics without leadership.
As I observe all this from afar, I cannot help but see Germany’s trajectory as a cautionary tale for other Western democracies. It is what happens when nations prioritise short-term political management over long-term vision, grow complacent about their achievements, and allow their core infrastructure, security and economic structures to decay.
That cautionary tale, unfortunately, is playing out in the land of my birth. I wonder if I will ever again recognise it as the country I knew.
Dr Oliver Hartwich is the Executive Director of The New Zealand Initiative think tank. This article was first published HERE
Had German efficiency not become an oxymoron, perhaps they might have considered that mail to New Zealand takes at least four weeks for a round trip – just under two weeks to reach me and two more to return. Under German law, postal ballots must arrive at the local election office by 6pm on election day – a physical impossibility from this part of the world if sent that late.
Of course, this being Germany, I could not have voted electronically either – not even by fax, which, in a technological time twist, still exists in bureaucratic Germany.
I could not have voted at the German Embassy, either. In fact, not even German diplomats can.
Germany’s ambassador to the United Kingdom, Miguel Berger, posted on social media that his ballot papers never arrived in London (never mind that London is closer to Berlin than Wellington). Tens of thousands of Germans abroad faced the same situation.
The German election process is symptomatic of the country as a whole: Nothing works as it should.
Even so, somewhat miraculously, the election produced a result. The Christian Democrats’ leader Friedrich Merz will likely become chancellor. If so, he will lead a coalition involving his Christian Democratic Union (CDU – and its Bavarian sister party CSU) and the Social Democratic Party (SPD).
Since their establishment in the late 1940s, the CDU and the SPD have dominated politics, first in West Germany and then in the re-unified Federal Republic. For example, in the 1980 West German election, CDU/CSU and SPD had 87 percent of the votes between them. An alliance between these parties would once have been called a “Grand Coalition.” But there is nothing “grand” about it anymore.
Last weekend, the CDU/CSU secured just 28.5 percent of the vote, while the SPD managed only 16.4 percent. Their combined 45 percent barely constitutes a parliamentary majority. It was achieved only because about 15 percent of votes went to parties that failed to clear the five percent threshold for parliamentary representation. That is a far cry from when these parties had up to 90 percent between them. It is weird for me to write about Germany these days because I barely recognise the country of my birth.
As someone born in 1975, I have witnessed Germany’s decline firsthand. I grew up in a prosperous West Germany, already past its “economic miracle” but still a model of efficiency. I was 14 when the Berlin Wall fell and 15 when reunification made Germany whole again.
When I left Germany in 2004, during the final years of Gerhard Schröder’s chancellorship, the country was grappling with a severe economic crisis. Since then, I have observed from abroad – first from London, then Sydney, and eventually Wellington. I still maintain several online newspaper subscriptions from Germany, listen to German podcasts and keep in frequent contact with friends and family. From afar, I can sometimes barely believe the decline, but each time I visit, it hits me. It is one thing to read and hear about it, but in Germany these days, you can see it everywhere. Just take a train. Or walk down once prestigious inner city shopping streets. Let alone have a look at the toilets of an ordinary state school. The signs of decline and decay are everywhere.
It is hard to answer when people ask me what happened to Germany or what went wrong. But that is only because I do not even know where to start. The country went in the wrong direction in so many different areas – and it did so all at once.
Was it Germany’s hostility to technological change? Its overburdening bureaucracy? Its corporatist industry structures? Its semi-state-controlled banking system? Its naïve refugee policy? Its lack of infrastructure investment? Its crazy energy policy that made it reliant on Russian energy imports? Its freeriding on American defence and neglect of its own armed forces? Its sometimes-arrogant foreign policy vis-a-vis its neighbours? Its focus on exports to China?
In truth, it was all of the above. It was not a single issue that got Germany into its current state but multiple mistakes, events and systematic errors. The combination presents a monstrous challenge for the next government. Because many of these issues are interrelated, they cannot be reformed in isolation.
The decline is perhaps most visible in Germany’s once-proud infrastructure. Deutsche Bahn, the railway system, was once renowned for precision. They even had an advertising slogan “Alle reden vom Wetter. Wir nicht.” – “Everybody talks about the weather. Not us.” Nowadays, trains routinely arrive late (rain, hail or shine), if they arrive at all.
When the government tried to encourage public transport use during the energy crisis with €9 monthly passes, the extra demand collapsed an already overburdened system.
The economic indicators are equally alarming. The vaunted auto industry, which directly or indirectly employs one in seven Germans, failed to anticipate the electric vehicle revolution. Now, German carmakers are playing catch-up with Tesla and Chinese manufacturers.
Meanwhile, chemical giant BASF is scaling back its German operations; BMW is shifting production eastward; ThyssenKrupp struggles to remain competitive. These are just some large and obvious companies. Company closures and relocations abroad are happening right across Germany Inc.
Energy costs have soared above those of European neighbours – the result of policy decisions made with good intentions but disastrous consequences. After Fukushima, Chancellor Angela Merkel abruptly abandoned nuclear power, not based on strategic assessment but because polls showed public anxiety ahead of some state elections. This increased Germany’s dependence on Russian gas, but environmental idealism prevailed over energy security and economic pragmatism.
These developments did not occur in a political vacuum. When I left Germany during Schröder’s chancellorship, Germany was implementing painful but necessary labour market reforms that would later revitalise the economy. Schröder paid the political price for these reforms but had laid the foundation for the prosperity that followed. What Germany needed next was a leader to build on his framework with a strategic vision.
Instead, it got Merkel. Her 16 years in power were characterised by tactical drift – strong on day-to-day political manoeuvres but without any strategic thinking to steer them. Her recent 720-page memoir reveals that Merkel never had a long-term plan for anything. It was all process, no strategy.
Merkel moved her Christian Democratic party leftward on every major issue – from nuclear power to migration – creating space for populist challengers on the right like Alternative for Deutschland (AfD).
When confronted with crises, Merkel’s approach was always to postpone difficult decisions. Her Russia policy, despite her claim that she “never had illusions about Putin,” left Germany strategically vulnerable – and Germany’s eastern European neighbours furious. Her unilateral decision to admit more than a million refugees in 2015 created integration challenges that will take generations to resolve.
Still, the Germans voted for her four times, and she remained popular when she left office. No wonder her successor, Olaf Scholz, campaigned as Merkel’s natural heir – another reliable, steady leader who would manage without drama.
The reality proved different. His “traffic light” coalition was meant to unite parties that were ideologically miles apart: Social Democrats (traditional colour: red) pulling left on spending, Greens (green) pushing for climate measures, and free-market liberals (yellow) demanding fiscal discipline. Such divisions would have required exceptional leadership to create coherence. Instead, Scholz could not manage even basic communications between his coalition partners.
Like Merkel before him, Scholz rarely led but waited for circumstances to make decisions for him. When Russia invaded Ukraine, he dithered for months over sending tanks until the US promised to do so as well. Never mind, he had promised a ‘Zeitenwende’ – a ‘turning of the times’. If only. By the time his coalition collapsed, Scholz’s approval ratings had fallen to the lowest ever recorded for a sitting chancellor.
These internal failings have had profound geopolitical consequences. Germany’s relations with France and Poland have deteriorated to post-war lows. Within NATO, Germany has become known as an unreliable ally, failing to meet the 2% GDP defence spending target despite repeated promises. The Bundeswehr – once a formidable Cold War force – has descended into such disrepair that German soldiers reportedly trained with broomsticks instead of gun barrels during a NATO exercise due to equipment shortages.
Friedrich Merz inherits this perfect storm of challenges. Unlike his predecessors, at least he speaks plainly about Germany’s problems rather than hiding them in bureaucratese.
Yet Merz will not have a free hand. The mathematics of coalition-building in a fragmented parliament and with the AfD’s status as the pariah of German politics means he must govern with the Social Democrats, who will resist a complete break with past policies.
While he may achieve tougher migration policies and a more robust defence stance, the deeper rot in German governance – from crumbling infrastructure to bureaucratic sclerosis – will require more fundamental reforms than any coalition will likely deliver.
The combination of Merkel’s 16 years and Scholz’s three has left problems too deep for quick fixes. That is the price Germany must pay for too many years of politics without leadership.
As I observe all this from afar, I cannot help but see Germany’s trajectory as a cautionary tale for other Western democracies. It is what happens when nations prioritise short-term political management over long-term vision, grow complacent about their achievements, and allow their core infrastructure, security and economic structures to decay.
That cautionary tale, unfortunately, is playing out in the land of my birth. I wonder if I will ever again recognise it as the country I knew.
Dr Oliver Hartwich is the Executive Director of The New Zealand Initiative think tank. This article was first published HERE
9 comments:
I lived away from NZ for 26 years. At no time did I feel I had the right to vote and try and influence the outcome of the elections. Voting in a country you have no intention of living in is morally wrong.
Just like I don't think people should be allowed to have dual citizenship, they shouldn't be allowed to vote in a country if they are a citizen somewhere else, particularly 20 odd years after the fact. If Oliver doesn't sufficiently care for Germany to actually live there, why should he nonetheless get a say on how and by whom Germany is run?
I have lived away from New Zealand for 14 years, returning from time to time. At all times I felt I had a right to vote and influence the outcome of elections (and I am now a dual citizen). Voting in a country (even if you have no intention of living there) is a democratic right, and it is morally wrong (and an offence in some countries) NOT to exercise that right.
The key failure was the delusional global warm cult. If the country had just maintained an energy structure with half the consumer and industrial cost plus focused on efficiency they would have been different.
As the current leader of the UN said many years ago global warming ha nothing to do with climate it's about removing capitalism from the world.
That went well and Merkel was simply part of the march through our agencies.
Enjoy.
Juliet
Why do you think you have any right to vote in a country you don't even live? The fact you don't even live in New Zealand and have even become a citizen of another country shows what little regard you have for New Zealand. Why should you have any say on what goes on here? There's even an argument that you shouldn't have a vote in your new home either, given that you are sitting on the fence and are still a New Zealand citizen.
“From afar, I can sometimes barely believe the decline, but each time I visit, it hits me.”
Exactly my experience as a Kiwi expat. Sadly.
To Madame Blavatsky - I suggest you take the 2 posted comments re - dual citizenship - to Australia and make those same comments to the many New Zealanders who have lived there for many years and those who have recently moved - my suggestion is ' wear a good pair of Nike's ' as you may need them 'when you start running from the verbal abuse that will levelled at you".
Also keep in mind, for many years we have had pending/potential MP's travel to Australia on " the campaign trail, prior to our General Elections, Labour being the leading contender "'.
Many Kiwi's do not seek Australian Citizenship, though made easier by Ardern, and retain their Kiwi Passport and a NZ residential address, so seek to vote, when they can.
I have property in two countries, I spend time in both , my heritage is both, I have dual citizenship in both, until a recent death, I had family in both and I vote in both. What's wrong with that?
It's like saying you have to choose your Maori heritage or your non Maori heritage, you can't have both.
Thank you very much for a very interesting summary of Germany in the last 20 years. I applaud your desire to keep abreast of the affairs affecting your country of birth. It is because of your heritage you have the insight to discuss German political trends as you do. Unlike others I am not concerned that you wish to vote in two countries, your native homeland and your new homeland. I wish we in NZ were more open to different perspectives, more willing in general, to discuss political issues that face us on a local, national and international level.
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