Copyright politico
Instead, everyone must fight to get their own way in a new form of public disputatiousness that took root during the last government’s three-party “traffic light” coalition. Leading members battled over everything: The Social Democrats (SPD) , then the largest party, pursued their welfare agenda; the pro-market Free Democrats (FDP), which had barely scraped into parliament, controlled the purse strings; and the only thing they could agree on was ganging up on the Greens’ agenda. It was dispiriting to watch, and it came crashing down when then-Chancellor Olaf Scholz fired his minister of finance, FDP leader Christian Lindner, with ostentatious acrimony. All three parties were subsequently punished in last February’s general election, ushering in the new era under Merz. But even before he took the seals of office, Merz was being undermined by all sides — including within his own ranks. The players might be different, but the fighting remains the same. Right before parliament went into recess in July, for instance, several CDU MPs signaled they’d vote against a judge nominated to the Constitutional Court — an unprecedented break with protocol — prompted by a far-right storm portraying the moderately liberal candidate as dangerously left-wing. The vote was postponed, and the judge eventually withdrew her candidacy. Amid fears that a Rubicon had been crossed, both ruling parties then vowed to behave and better cooperate when the Bundestag resumed in September. But have they? Yes and no. In the age of social media, with its onus on brevity and bombast, German politicians are having to relearn their craft. Dogged and discreet participation in committees is no longer the route to success. Therefore, the negotiations required for two or more parties to come together and strike a deal are inevitably being portrayed in an argumentative manner. And it’s a shift that’s taking place across pretty much all areas of government business.
