In the long tradition of leaders who must reckon with the gap between their promises and the public's patience, Friedrich Merz finds himself governing a Germany that is restless and unconvinced. Less than eighteen months into his chancellorship, electoral defeats to the far-right AfD and record-low approval ratings have forced a quiet but consequential question to the surface: does his party still believe in him? The answer, for now, is a reluctant yes — not out of conviction, but because the alternatives are absent and the cost of instability feels greater than the cost of doubt.
Merz fights to retain CDU leadership as far-right AfD gains ground
The chancellor had essentially called Germans lazy.
So Merz is in real trouble. The CDU lost badly in Saxony-Anhalt, and now they're polling at seven percent in the next state election. How does a chancellor recover from that?
The thing is, he might not have to recover—at least not by leaving office. Yes, the numbers are terrible, but there's no viable successor. Söder alienates people, Wüst doesn't want the job. So Merz is betting the party will stick with him because the alternative is messier.
But we should be clear about what "terrible" means here. Seven percent in one state election is bad, but is it a sign the whole government is collapsing, or is it a regional problem? The source doesn't really separate those out.
Fair point. The federal government approval is at a record low, though, so it's not just Saxony-Anhalt. But you're right that we don't know if voters are rejecting Merz personally or the coalition's policies.
What about the pension reform? That seems to be a real flashpoint.
It's a difficult reform—it requires cuts. Merz has been impatient explaining it, and he made it worse by essentially saying Germans are lazy for wanting work-life balance. That comment alone probably cost him credibility.
The "lazy" comment—did he actually use that word, or is that a characterization? The source says trade unions were outraged that he accused Germans of being lazy, but I want to know what he actually said.
The source says he complained about attitudes toward four-day workweeks and work-life balance, and that unions saw it as calling them lazy. So it's an interpretation, not a direct quote.
And the state premiers backing him—is that genuine support or just damage control?
Probably both. They're saying Germany needs stability, which is code for "we don't want a leadership fight right now." But it also suggests they don't have a better option.
The statement came from all eight CDU state premiers. That's significant—it's hard to organize that kind of unity if there's real fracturing. But it also might mean Merz called in favors.
So what happens on Sunday when he meets with the executive committee?
He's going to ask them directly if they still trust him. If they say yes, he survives. If they say no, he'd have to resign or face a constructive vote of no confidence.
But the source says no one can imagine that scenario happening. So we're really just watching to see if Merz can hold the line until the next election cycle.
Exactly. The real test is whether voters start trusting him again, or whether the AfD keeps gaining ground.
The Pulse
- The CDU's collapse in Saxony-Anhalt and near-disappearance in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania polling at 7% signals that Merz's promise to halve AfD support has instead halved his own party's standing.
- His own education minister said publicly that citizens feel the chancellor lacks empathy — a damning verdict from inside the tent, echoed quietly by coalition partners in the SPD.
- With no credible successor willing to step forward — Söder too divisive, Wüst too focused on his own state — the path to removing Merz is procedurally and politically blocked.
- All eight CDU state premiers issued a joint declaration of support, a show of unity that reads less like confidence and more like a controlled attempt to prevent free fall.
- Merz canceled his United Nations General Assembly appearance and is preparing to face his party's executive committee directly, staking his chancellorship on a single blunt question: do you still trust me?
In the long tradition of leaders who must reckon with the gap between their promises and the public's patience, Friedrich Merz finds himself governing a Germany that is restless and unconvinced. Less than eighteen months into his chancellorship, electoral defeats to the far-right AfD and record-low approval ratings have forced a quiet but consequential question to the surface: does his party still believe in him? The answer, for now, is a reluctant yes — not out of conviction, but because the alternatives are absent and the cost of instability feels greater than the cost of doubt.
Friedrich Merz was nearly eighteen hundred kilometers from Berlin, attending the European Arctic Summit in Finland, when the political ground at home began to shift. Asked about the mood in the capital, he deflected toward Europe's larger future — but what he was avoiding was a slow-motion reckoning with his own leadership, barely eighteen months after taking office.
The numbers were unsparing. The CDU had been routed in Saxony-Anhalt by the AfD — a party officially classified as right-wing extremist — and in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, the CDU was polling at just seven percent ahead of a September 20 vote, dangerously close to falling below the threshold required to enter the state parliament at all. Before his election, Merz had promised to cut AfD support in half. Instead, it was his own party's numbers that had been halved.
The diagnosis offered by members of his own government pointed squarely at Merz himself. Education Minister Karin Prien said publicly that many citizens felt the chancellor and his party lacked empathy. His communication style — impatient, sometimes abrasive — had repeatedly misfired. When he suggested that German attitudes toward work-life balance threatened national prosperity, trade unions erupted and the damage lingered. Even coalition partners in the SPD were privately alarmed, urging the CDU to steady itself.
Yet removing him was easier to imagine than to execute. Markus Söder lacked broad CDU support, and Hendrik Wüst had little appetite for Berlin with his own state reelection approaching. A constructive vote of no confidence would require someone to openly challenge a sitting chancellor — a scenario no one was willing to trigger. Instead, all eight CDU state premiers issued a joint statement of support, a gesture that read more like damage control than genuine confidence.
Merz, for his part, was not preparing to retreat. He canceled his trip to the United Nations General Assembly and arranged to face the CDU's twenty-two-member executive committee on Sunday evening, once the Mecklenburg results were known. He intended to ask them directly whether they still trusted him — betting that when forced to choose between a flawed chancellor and the uncertainty of chaos, his party would choose him.
Friedrich Merz was in Rovaniemi, Finland, nearly eighteen hundred kilometers from Berlin, when the ground began shifting beneath him. The German chancellor had traveled north for the European Arctic Summit to discuss resources and geopolitics, but even that distance could not insulate him from the crisis unfolding at home. When journalists asked about the mood in the capital, Merz deflected—Europe's future, he said, mattered more than domestic political debates. He was being generous with the word "debates." What was actually happening was a slow-motion reckoning with his leadership, less than eighteen months after he took office in May 2025.
The numbers told the story plainly. The CDU had been demolished in the Saxony-Anhalt state election, losing ground to the Alternative for Germany, a party classified by the domestic intelligence agency as confirmed right-wing extremist. Worse was coming. In Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, where voting was set for September 20, the CDU was polling at seven percent—so low that failure to clear the five percent threshold needed to enter the state parliament seemed possible. Before his election, Merz had promised to cut AfD support in half. Instead, his own party's support had been halved. The federal government's approval had hit a record low. The math was brutal and the message was clear: something was broken.
The diagnosis, offered freely by members of his own government, centered on Merz himself. Education Minister Karin Prien, also CDU, said publicly that many citizens felt the chancellor and his party lacked empathy. The problem, according to observers and officials, was his communication style—often impatient, sometimes abrasive, frequently tone-deaf to the actual concerns of ordinary people. When he discussed the pension reform that would require difficult cuts, he seemed irritated by the resistance. In July, he had complained that citizens' attitudes about four-day workweeks and work-life balance threatened the country's prosperity. Trade unions erupted. The chancellor had essentially called Germans lazy. Behind closed doors, even his coalition partners in the Social Democrats were alarmed. One SPD official said the CDU's nerves appeared frayed, appealing to them to get back on track.
The obvious solution—removing Merz—ran into an immediate wall: there was no one to replace him. Markus Söder, the Bavarian CSU leader, had been floated as a possibility, but he provoked the CDU regularly and lacked broad support within the party. Hendrik Wüst, the CDU premier of North Rhine-Westphalia, the country's most populous state, had run a coalition with the Greens competently for over four years, but he showed little interest in moving to Berlin and had his own reelection campaign planned for April. Procedurally, removing a sitting chancellor required either his voluntary resignation or a constructive vote of no confidence—a scenario in which a rival would have to openly challenge him. No one could imagine that happening. Instead, all eight CDU state premiers issued a joint statement on Wednesday declaring their continued support for Merz, calling for unity and arguing that Germany needed stability more than ever.
Yet Merz was not a man likely to step aside quietly. According to reports circulating in Berlin political circles, he planned to convene the CDU's executive committee—twenty-two of the party's leading figures—on Sunday evening, once the Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania results were in. He would stand before them and ask a direct question: did the party still trust him? The seriousness of his position was underscored by a dramatic gesture: he had canceled his trip to the United Nations General Assembly, a major international engagement that had been scheduled long in advance. Government sources confirmed he was needed in Berlin. The chancellor was preparing to fight for his job, and he was betting that when forced to choose between him and chaos, his party would choose him.
Notable Quotes
Many people feel that the chancellor and we in the CDU/CSU lack the necessary empathy, and that has to change.— Education Minister Karin Prien, CDU
Germany needs stability more than ever, and rebuilding voters' trust means listening and political action, not personnel debates.— Joint statement from eight CDU state premiers