Editorial: “Never again”? The 2025 German elections

“Writing poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric.” This 1949 statement by Theodor W. Adorno, one of the intellectual architects of modern German left-liberalism, has haunted Germany ever since. Its political and cultural discourse remains dominated by reductio ad Hitlerum—the near-obsessive tendency to compare contemporary events and individuals to the 12-year reign of the Third Reich, as few nations have struggled so intensely with their past, and fewer still have undertaken such a comprehensive rejection of their historical legacy. For decades, an implicit consensus among German intellectuals and politicians has held that the horrors of National Socialism were not a tragic aberration, but the inevitable and negative telos of German history itself.

Leading Europe - for its own good”

As a result, Germany exists in a perpetual post-historical state, attempting to build a modern nation founded not on continuity with its past, but on the conscious rejection of its national identity. Instead, it places exclusive emphasis on supposedly objective institutional procedures and universal human values. For many years, Germany’s post-war economic success—symbolised by the Wirtschaftswunder—appeared to validate this approach, reinforcing the belief that this new path was not only morally righteous but also materially advantageous. However, in recent years, that belief has begun to crack. Economic stagnation, a shift from liberal materialism to socialist materialism, the stifling effects of ideological conformity on education and innovation, mass migration, poorly conceived environmental reforms, and chronic underinvestment in infrastructure have led to a worrying national decline.

At the same time, Germany’s paradoxical sense of pride in its guilt—not only in having authored untold horrors but also in having become a global leader in atoning for them—has led to increasingly surreal self-perceptions. The author vividly recalls a 2017 speech by then-Economy Minister Brigitte Zypries, in which she explained to a somewhat unsettled international audience that Germany’s historical responsibility for conquering and nearly destroying Europe justified its leadership of the continent today—albeit, of course, this time for its own good.

This is why the upcoming German elections, occurring at a moment of both domestic and international volatility, are not merely a footnote in history. Since the Middle Ages, Germany has been the heart of the European continent, a role formalised in the Holy Roman Empire. Since the 19th century, it has also served as Europe’s demographic and industrial powerhouse. Whatever happens in Germany reverberates far beyond its borders, which is why its elections are of paramount importance—not just for the stability of the Old Continent but for the overall direction of the European Union, increasingly viewed as little more than a polite façade for German hegemony.

Firewalls and populists

At the heart of Germany’s political realignment is the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), a party that has fundamentally disrupted the country’s postwar political order. Founded in 2013 in opposition to what it saw as the reckless handling of the euro during the Greek debt crisis, the AfD gradually expanded its platform to include a strong anti-migration stance—particularly following the 2015 refugee crisis. This shift dramatically increased its popularity while drawing accusations of euroscepticism and xenophobia—a particularly damaging charge in a country where the traumatic memory of the Third Reich is omnipresent.

Under Angela Merkel, German politics underwent a peculiar form of radicalization through consensus. Her strategy of asymmetrische Demobilisierung (asymmetrical demobilisation) systematically co-opted the core positions of her left-wing opponents, leading to an unprecedented homogenization of political discourse. Today, Social Democrats, Greens, Liberals and Christian Democrats largely converge on most key ideological issues, leaving little room for genuine debate. This has fueled a growing voter alienation, as many Germans feel their concerns—ranging from migration, taxation, criminal gangs,  the “Green deal”, to economic stagnation—are dismissed by a political system that increasingly resembles a de facto one-party state.

This dynamic has hardened political rhetoric, especially given the overwhelming left-liberal and Green dominance of major media outlets, which frequently misrepresent opposition perspectives. In response, opposition discourse has become increasingly unrestrained, further deepening the country’s polarisation through an ill-chosen over-compensation of historical guilt by relativising past nationalism and expansionism.

A striking manifestation of this phenomenon is the “Brandmauer” (firewall), the absolute and non-negotiable barrier that all mainstream, self-declared “democratic” parties have erected around the AfD. Ostensibly implemented to protect democracy and prevent a repeat of Weimar-era political fragmentation, this strategy has failed spectacularly to contain the party’s rise—and may, in fact, have fueled it. Indeed, ever more Germans see it as confirming the AfD’s claims that the political establishment suppresses dissent, particularly at a time when public confidence in Germany’s economic performance and social cohesion is eroding.

This growing unease also extends to doubts about whether the upcoming elections will be truly free. Many citizens have not forgotten the organisational chaos of past regional elections, where significant irregularities—almost invariably favouring the established parties—were either dismissed outright or denied for as long as possible by those in power. They also recall the highly controversial 2020 Thuringian minister-president election, in which the result was effectively overturned at Angela Merkel’s insistence because it did not align with her preferences. Against this backdrop, recent events in Georgia, Romania, and Slovakia, as well as Michel Barnier’s ominous assertion that an AfD victory would be “unacceptable”, have only fueled anxieties. For many, these elections are not just another electoral cycle—they are seen as a potential turning point, possibly the last genuinely free elections before Germany shifts, depending on one’s political perspective, toward either a left-liberal technocracy or a right-wing nationalist state.

A late nation?

The international landscape only amplifies Germany’s internal tensions. First, there is the European context: as more countries—including Hungary, Slovakia, the Netherlands, Italy, and now Belgium—shift to the right, Germany increasingly finds itself as Europe’s last holdout of centrist-liberal orthodoxy. This is not an unusual situation in the history of the self-designed “verspätete Nation” (“late nation”), but it is also a worrying one, as historically, whenever Germany has found itself politically isolated in Europe, its response has tended toward stubborn adherence to its convictions rather than introspection and constructive self-criticism.

Second, Donald Trump’s return to the White House threatens to upend Germany’s transatlantic relationships. A radical shift in Washington’s foreign policy could push Berlin into further consolidating the European Union as an informal German sphere of influence—a prospect that would only exacerbate existing tensions with other EU members.

Third, the war in Ukraine has been profoundly unsettling for Germany, evoking contradictory historical memories from the long-standing Russo-Prussian entente to the trauma of the two world wars. At the same time, it has laid bare Germany’s military impotence, reinforcing a sense of strategic vulnerability while exposing deep internal divisions over Berlin’s role in the continent’s security.

Germany now faces a defining moment. The upcoming elections will determine not only its domestic trajectory but also the future of Europe itself. The country must decide: will it double down on its post-historical identity, pressing forward on its current course despite mounting economic and social strain? Or will it embrace a more pragmatic, self-confident role, one that acknowledges its past without being held hostage by it? The outcome will shape not just Germany’s fate, but the balance of power in Europe—and beyond—for years to come.