Not since Margaret Thatcher in her pomp has there been a woman on the world stage with the appeal, and gravitas, of Angela Merkel. Like Thatcher, the German Chancellor is respected even by her sworn enemies – extending in her case from the Marxist Left to the near-Fascist Right, plus any number of foreign potentates, not least Donald Trump.
It used to be said that Helmut Kohl – the Unification Chancellor – was the most important German leader since the war. The same was previously said of Helmut Schmidt, and before him of Willy Brandt and Konrad Adenauer. Even the also-rans, Ludwig Erhard, Kurt Kiesinger and Gerhard Schröder, were worthy of note. The fact of the matter is that Germany since 1945 has produced more leaders of substance than any other European country. While nothing can obliterate the memory of Hitler and the Nazis or wash away the stain of the so-called German Democratic Republic, the roll-call of Chancellors in the 75 years since VE Day is one of which the nation can be proud.
But move over, meine Herren, and make way. Because Mutti, as she is universally known, looks as if she is about to achieve something quite astonishing. If the polls are to be believed, she is on course to be as popular, or more popular, at the end of her term in office than she was when she started out.
No other leader in Europe, and quite possibly the world, can boast of an 80 per cent approval rating, especially after the turmoil of the Covid-19 crisis and with the economy about to move into recession. Yet that is where Merkel stands today.
How can this be? Less than two years ago, she was finished. Defeats in a string of state elections, combined with ominous rumblings within the grand coalition of Christian and Social Democrats in the Bundestag, had robbed her of most of her hitherto unassailable authority. Her decision in 2015 to admit almost one million mostly Muslim refugees from Syria, Iraq and elsewhere in the Middle East and Africa had gone down like a lead balloon.
Linked to this, her inability to prevent the European Union from tearing itself apart over mass migration, and her refusal to throw money at the struggling nations of the continent’s Deep South, most obviously Italy, had seriously eroded her claim to be First Among Equals in Brussels. Emmanuel Macron, 25 years her junior, was the new kid on the block, determined to move his elegantly-shod foot onto the accelerator of the Franco-German motor. In Britain, where the image of Germany had become synonymous with the perceived self-interest of its carmakers, Brexit was the name of the game.
Suddenly, the German Chancellor was old news. She looked tired and out of ideas. Her announcement in the autumn of 2018 that she was giving up the leadership of the CDU and would step down as Chancellor in 2021 was widely interpreted as inevitable and, quite possibly, overdue.
Everyone wished her well. No one doubted that she had done her best in what were extremely trying circumstances, but, equally, everyone wished her gone.
Well, not any more. Never waste a good crisis is one of the oldest adages in politics, and Merkel certainly wasted no time when the coronavirus crossed continents from China to Italy, threatening Germany with an unknown and unknowable number of deaths and the shutdown of its export-led economy.
We all know what happened next. The Federal Republic, unlike almost all of its neighbours, had stockpiled large quantities of ventilators, surgical masks and personal protection equipment. It also had a detailed plan in place to deal with a pandemic, including the likely impact on care homes and the elderly, and enough spare capacity in its hospitals to deal with an upsurge in the number of patients needing treatment.
Germany engineering, it turned out, was as efficient in the social and medical field as it was in manufacturing.
In Britain, the NHS had been starved of cash for ten years and neither the Government nor its advisors knew what to do for the best. In France, the army burned millions of face masks and PPE, thought to be outdated and unnecessary, just as Covid-19 was about to touch down in Paris. In Italy, where government by chaos was firmly established, nobody knew what they were doing. In Spain, which prided itself on the efficacy of its health system, they knew even less. In Belgium, they just grimmaced and bore it.
The figures tell their own story. In the UK (up to Thursday) there were 39,728 deaths; in France 29.021; Italy 33,601; Spain 27,128; Belgium 9,548; and Germany – with the largest population in Europe – 8,701.
It would be an exaggeration to claim that Merkel made the difference. It was a combination of skill, hard work and preparedness, and perhaps a little luck. But the Chancellor had been in power since 2005 and it was under her leadership that the machinery of government swung into action when the crisis arose.
To the victor, the spoils.
But Merkel’s renaissance is not all about calmness under fire and the reassurance she offered her nation at a time of trial. It was also about the fact that Germany is expected to ride out the storm better than most. According to the last available statistics, the economy contracted by 2.2 per cent in the first quarter of this year – the worst result since the 2008 financial crash and the euro crisis that followed. But Germany recovered quickly in the years after 2008, so much so that as Italy and Greece tetered on the edge of collapse, it was Angela Merkel who, albeit in the manner of a 1950s bank manager, led the EU’s rescue efforts.
Merkel has never been a pushover when it comes to transferring billions in cash from her country’s exchequer to those of her neighbours. She was tough on Greece in 2009 and equally tough on Italy in more recent days. Yet, acting in tandem with France’s President Macron, it was she who just last month approved a plan worth €500 billion, rising to £750 billion, to help Europe recover from the Covid crisis and the resulting recession. She knows that Germany will be liable for by far the biggest portion of the rescue package, which is not exactly a happy thought for voters. But she also knows that the people respect her judgment, which is that self-interest and the interests of the EU as a whole are intimately entwined.
Five years ago, when when she used executive privilege to force through her decision to admit one million refugees, the backlash was immediate. Mutti had overstepped herself and introduced a divisive and unacceptably foreign element into the German population. The AfD, like Ukip in Britain, soared in the polls and, having for the first time entered the ranks of several state assemblies, went on to secure an impressive block of seats in the Bundestag. At the same time, the CDU’s sister party, the Bavarian Christian Social Union, decided to split away, forcing Merkel to accept a grand coalition with the equally divided SPD.
But then what happened? As the Greens and the AfD fought for the “soul” of Germany, apparently reliquished by the CDU, the refugees began to settle in, learning German and adding their skills and energy to an ageing workforce desperately in need of reinforcement. Merkel was proved right again.
Today, with her crown as the Queen of Europe, once more firmly in place, she can contemplate retirement with greater equanimity than any of her counterparts. The daughter of a Lutheran pastor, she was born in Hamburg but raised in the Communist East, where she trained as a scientist. When the Berlin Wall fell, it was her proficiency as a spokesperson for the East German interim government that first brought her to the attention of the CDU. She was elected to the Bundestag for a constituency close to the Polish border and rose quickly though the party ranks, becoming a protegé of the increasingly tired Helmut Kohl.
Having served Kohl as minister for women and youth and later the environment, she went on to be leader of the Opposition and then, in 2005, Chancellor. Even Bismarck would have been impressed.
Since then, Britain has had five prime ministers, and there have been four French heads of state. Merkel has been the enduring presence. On the global front, she has seen off George W Bush, Barack Obama and, if he fails to win re-election in November, Donald Trump. Only Vladimir Putin, with whom she enjoys a tense relationship, has enjoyed a more sustained period in power.
Trump – unlike Putin – is reported to be in awe of her intelligence and irritated by what he perceives to be the unduly forthright way in which she expresses her opinions. The suggestion, much in vogue after he took office, that she had supplanted him as the Leader of the Free world, continues to gnaw at him. Just last week, her decision to decline his invitation to attend the next meeting of the G7 at Camp David, with him as host, will have had the President spitting with rage.
If there is a downside to the Merkel miracle, it is that it has highlighted the dearth of competition to replace her as Chancellor when her third term expires next year. The CDU without her lacks focus, while the SDP looks to have lost confidence in its ability to govern. The Greens and the AfD may be riding high at the moment, but they cancel each other out at the ballot box and are in no position to provide a national leader.
When Mutti does step down and Germany has to carry on without her, the extent of the loss will be felt across the nation, which for a time at least is bound to feel orphaned and bereft. In time, someone as yet unknown will surely rise to the challenge, but for now, while she enjoys a well-deserved Indian summer, Angela Merkel is monarch of all she surveys.