We are being unfair to Friedrich Merz

On 13 April 2026, Beatrice Achterberg, an editor at the conservative publication NZZ Deutschland, titled her newsletter Der andere Blick am Morgen with the remark: “He moderates where he should decide, and lets things happen where he ought to lead – Merz is reminiscent of Angela Merkel.”

Yes, we are being unfair to Friedrich Merz.

Yet we have known him for many years.

We have long been aware that he was driven—almost consumed—by a fervent desire: to become Chancellor of Germany, to stand at the very top, to sit at the table with the great figures of the world.

That was his ambition. There was little talk of governing, and even less of what such governance might concretely entail. Of course, during election campaigns—that brief moment when the electorate is stirred from its political slumber—politicians compete with one another in making grand promises.

“Economic renewal” was one such conveniently vague slogan. It sounded appealing. After all, “the economy” was a cause for concern, and a “renewal” (preferably for the better) seemed desirable. Curiously, we ascribed “economic competence” to Friedrich Merz. In reality, his foray into the financial world primarily demonstrated his ability to enrich himself successfully.

Leadership strength, too, was widely attributed to him. And indeed, he proved capable of fastening himself onto his political opponents with the tenacity of an angry terrier.

But is this truly what we need?

Do we genuinely require yet another “strong leader”? Surely, history should have cured us of that inclination.

Should politics not instead be understood as a collective endeavour? Should not the individual at the top be supported by a deep and genuine consensus within the political and administrative structures beneath them? Admittedly, this would mean that the roles of minister or even chancellor would cease to be positions of concentrated power.

And that would be no bad thing. For genuine teamwork can only emerge when the opportunists, the unscrupulous careerists, and the vain egotists are kept away from positions of influence.

Here, then, the true drama reveals itself. We—the people—ought to look into the mirror if we wish to identify the real culprit.

It was we who elevated Friedrich Merz to his present position. We knowingly projected vastly inflated expectations onto his abilities. We had known him for years. Any individual would have struggled to fulfil the exaggerated promises of an election campaign—Friedrich Merz perhaps more than most.

And yet, it remains: we are doing him an injustice. The fault lies with us—those who “take no interest in politics,” who cast their vote once every four or five years, and who then succumb to the loudest voice.

We must finally awaken from our slumber, organise ourselves, and take our future back into our own hands.