The reasons for this unease are clear. The foundations of the post-war republic’s prosperity are eroding. Vladimir Putin’s invasion of Ukraine exposed not just Germany’s dependence on Russian gas but the futility of its hope that deepening trade links would safeguard peace. Donald Trump is challenging assumptions about America’s place in Europe’s security architecture, which perhaps held faster in Germany than anywhere else in the western half of the old continent.

Domestically, there is a growing sense that the order is crumbling. Irregular migration, while falling and far from the peaks of 2015-16, has been running at unsustainable levels for years. A series of horrific attacks by asylum-seekers, some of them evading deportation, has laid bare authorities’ failings; in the latest, on February 21st, a young Syrian refugee seriously injured a Spanish tourist in a knife attack at Berlin’s Holocaust Memorial. On the economic front, while many countries have seen incumbents toppled by electorates tired of the spiraling cost of living, in Germany this has been accompanied by a deeper sense of malaise over the country’s manufacturing-first business model. Industrial giants like Bosch and ThyssenKrupp are slashing jobs, and surveys suggest that more lay-offs lie ahead. Real GDP has barely budged for six years. No one knows what to do about the car industry. “Nothing works in this country anymore,” is an increasingly familiar (if exaggerated) refrain, especially on railway platforms after the latest delay is announced.

This unease has propelled the hard-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) to previously unimaginable levels. It may occupy close to one-quarter of the seats in the next Bundestag, and if the election outcome forces Mr. Merz’s Christian Democratic alliance into an unwieldy three-way coalition encompassing the other two big parties, the AfD will be left as the only significant opposition. The “firewall” that other parties have placed around the AfD, which bars any form of cooperation at federal or state level, has ensured that Germany remains in a rapidly dwindling set of European countries in which the hard right has no role in government. But it has also removed any incentive for the AfD to moderate. Along with Austria’s Freedom Party, it is one of the most radical of the populist-right parties straining politics across Europe.

Mr. Merz warns that failure to tackle Germany’s most pressing problems, which he regards as the stagnant economy and irregular migration, could see the AfD win the next election in 2029. If that is hyperbole, it is not atypical for Mr. Merz, who can have a tendency to talk first and think later. Both Olaf Scholz, the Social Democrat (SPD) incumbent, and Angela Merkel, Mr. Scholz’s party-political opposite but temperamental equivalent, offered German voters the comforting promise that the country required little more than managerial incrementalism. (It was Mr. Scholz’s misfortune that this recipe became indisputably obsolete during his term.) Mr. Merz, by contrast, presents himself as something of an agent of rupture—rhetorically, at least. “The business model of this country is gone,” he recently told The Economist: a phrase it is impossible to imagine passing the lips of either of his two predecessors.

Yet for all that, with one ill-advised exception—a decision to push through a non-binding motion on illegal migration with votes from the AfD—Mr. Merz’s campaign has been broadly marked by caution, even unseriousness. His remedy for fixing Germany’s economic ailments begins with tackling red tape and reducing the welfare rolls: worthy but hardly radical or adequate goals. His Christian Democratic Union’s (CDU) manifesto is stuffed with unfunded tax cuts. Germany’s economy has many pockets of enduring success, and even growth. But its structural problems, from demography to growing commercial rivalry with China, will require much more serious surgery.

On foreign policy, Mr. Merz at least has the right instincts. Where Mr. Scholz appears not to have noticed that the world has changed with Mr. Trump’s election, Mr. Merz has hinted at a willingness to discuss previously taboo subjects, including extending France’s nuclear umbrella. He detects an appetite among Germany’s European partners for a stronger German voice, and knows defense spending will need a huge boost, though he struggles to explain how to pay for it. But the true test will come after the election—and possibly before Mr. Merz has taken office, which could take several months—as Mr. Trump’s Ukraine policy takes shape.

Once installed as chancellor, Mr. Merz says his priority will be quickly to demonstrate to Germans that politicians can get stuff done. First, though, he will have to negotiate a coalition. If the numbers allow it, Mr. Merz will probably seek to work with the SPD. It looks as though Germany’s main center-left and center-right parties will together win significantly less than half of the votes for the first time in modern history. Perhaps in part for that reason, it need not be the muddy consensus-seeking machine that defined German policymaking for most of the past 20 years. A three-party coalition would be a far more troubling prospect.

Germans learned that lesson from Mr. Scholz’s “traffic-light” coalition, the least popular government in living memory. But they do not have much time for Mr. Merz either; his success rests largely on the unpopularity of his opponents. Having hoped to chalk up 35% of the vote just a month ago, the CDU and its Bavarian sister party will now be lucky to scrape 30%, a score lower than in any federal election bar the one in 2021. Germany’s presumed next chancellor will take office against a backdrop of a grumpy electorate, a flatlining economy, and a world that is rapidly being upended in ways that do not work to Europe’s advantage. It is an unenviable task.

For U.S. readers, the parallels are striking. The economic malaise and political polarization in Germany echo similar sentiments in the United States. The rise of hard-right parties in Europe mirrors the growing influence of populist movements in the U.S., such as the Tea Party and more recently, the America First movement. The challenges faced by Germany’s manufacturing sector are not unlike those faced by U.S. industries, particularly in the Rust Belt, which have struggled with job losses and economic stagnation.

In the context of global security, the U.S. has long been a key player in Europe’s defense architecture. The potential shift in Germany’s foreign policy, as hinted by Mr. Merz, could have significant implications for NATO and the broader transatlantic alliance. The U.S. has traditionally been a stabilizing force in Europe, and any changes in Germany’s approach to defense and foreign policy could reshape the dynamics of this relationship.

Looking ahead, the election of Friedrich Merz as Germany’s chancellor could mark a turning point for the country. His willingness to address the stagnant economy and irregular migration head-on, combined with his cautious but firm approach to foreign policy, could provide a much-needed boost to Germany’s standing in Europe and the world. However, the challenges he faces are substantial, and the success of his tenure will depend on his ability to navigate a complex political landscape and deliver tangible results to a skeptical electorate.

This article was written by an expert journalist from newsdirectory3.com.