Angela Merkel's Global Acceptance

By Naveed Qazi | Editor, Globe Upfront

Winning four consecutive federal elections in Germany was an exceptional political achievement. Yet longevity in office should not be confused with unqualified success or ideological clarity. Angela Merkel’s leadership was shaped less by grand vision and more by caution, pragmatism, and an ability to outlast crises without fully owning their long-term consequences. Her strength lay in endurance rather than transformation—and this distinction is essential to any serious assessment of her legacy.

In international media, particularly in the Anglo-American press, Merkel was often portrayed as a moral counterweight to the rise of authoritarian leaders. The Guardian’s Natalie Nougayrède famously described her as “the reluctant leader of the free world,” a phrase that captured both her authority and her discomfort with global leadership. Yet this reluctance often translated into delayed decisions and strategic ambiguity, especially during the eurozone crisis, the migration influx, and Germany’s dealings with Russia.

Merkel took office in 2005 just before the global economic order entered its most turbulent phase. The 2008 financial crash and the subsequent eurozone debt crisis tested not only Germany’s economic resilience but also the foundations of European integration. Her most cited accomplishment—preventing the euro from collapsing—came with serious costs. As The Financial Times consistently reported during the Greek debt crisis, Germany under Merkel became the main advocate of strict austerity, placing fiscal discipline above social protection in countries such as Greece, Spain, and Portugal.

The human cost of these policies was widely debated. Paul Krugman, writing in The New York Times, criticised Merkel’s economic approach for deepening recessions and prolonging hardship in southern Europe. Unlike the United States, which responded to crisis through stimulus and monetary expansion, Germany prioritised spending cuts and balanced budgets. While this approach reassured German voters, it generated resentment across much of Europe, where Merkel’s leadership was increasingly seen as rigid, technocratic, and indifferent to inequality.

At home, Merkel’s electoral success owed much to her ideological adaptability. She steadily absorbed policies traditionally associated with her opponents—introducing a minimum wage, exiting nuclear power, and relaxing her party’s stance on social issues. Der Spiegel has argued that this strategy weakened political competition by blurring ideological differences, leaving voters disengaged and creating space for radical alternatives. The rise of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) cannot be separated from this long-term erosion of political contestation.

The 2015 migration crisis marked the most divisive moment of Merkel’s chancellorship. Her declaration—“Wir schaffen das”—was praised by The Washington Post as a rare expression of moral leadership in Europe. However, moral clarity was not matched by institutional preparedness. As reported by Die Zeit and Süddeutsche Zeitung, local administrations struggled with housing, employment, and integration, while public anxiety was left largely unaddressed. The backlash strengthened nationalist forces and reshaped German and European politics.

Merkel’s foreign policy reputation as a stabiliser also deserves closer scrutiny. Her refusal to grant Georgia a NATO Membership Action Plan in 2008, despite pressure from Washington, was widely interpreted as an attempt to avoid provoking Russia. Commentators in Foreign Affairs viewed the move as pragmatic diplomacy. Yet, in hindsight, critics questioned whether such restraint encouraged Russian assertiveness, particularly after events in Crimea and eastern Ukraine.

Her relationship with Russia was marked by similar contradictions. Merkel supported EU sanctions following the annexation of Crimea, yet also backed the Nord Stream 2 gas pipeline. The Economist and several Eastern European leaders criticised the project for undermining European energy security. Merkel’s belief that economic interdependence could moderate geopolitical conflict appeared increasingly outdated in a more confrontational global environment.

Merkel remained a committed supporter of European integration, but her vision of Europe was limited. She favoured fiscal rules, economic supervision, and structural reforms, while resisting deeper political union that might have required Germany to shoulder greater redistributive responsibilities. As Le Monde observed, her Europe was one of discipline rather than solidarity—built on stability mechanisms rather than shared political risk.

Her domestic reforms were equally complex. The decision to phase out nuclear power after the Fukushima disaster was widely praised, yet The Wall Street Journal and German energy analysts pointed to unintended consequences: higher electricity prices, greater reliance on coal, and increased dependence on Russian gas. The abolition of military conscription was framed as progressive, but defence analysts writing in Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung later criticised Germany’s weakened military readiness within NATO.

International recognition followed Merkel throughout her career. She topped Forbes’ list of the world’s most powerful women multiple times, was named TIME’s Person of the Year in 2015, and received the Charlemagne Prize for European unity. Yet such accolades often reflected the absence of credible alternatives rather than exceptional leadership. As Martin Wolf wrote in The Financial Times, Merkel excelled at managing crises and postponing difficult decisions—skills valuable in unstable times, but limited in shaping long-term renewal.

Merkel’s political temperament was deeply shaped by her upbringing in East Germany. Living under a surveillance state taught her caution, respect for limits, and a strong sense of restraint. She governed by defining boundaries rather than offering grand narratives. This approach inspired trust, but it also constrained ambition.

In the end, Angela Merkel was neither a heroic saviour of liberal democracy nor merely a caretaker of the status quo. She was a crisis manager whose authority rested on patience rather than passion, and survival rather than vision. Her legacy is best understood not through admiration alone, but through the unresolved questions her leadership leaves behind—about Europe’s cohesion, Germany’s responsibility, and the long-term cost of stability without transformation.