For many years, Germany has needed to dramatically expand its defenses, and today, it finally seems ready to do so. When Russia annexed Crimea and invaded eastern Ukraine in 2014, Germany’s response was muted. Berlin held inconclusive talks with the Kremlin, imposed a handful of sanctions, and then quietly returned to business as usual with Moscow. After Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Chancellor Olaf Scholz announced a Zeitenwende, or “turning point.” He promised to increase defense spending, send more aid to Ukraine, and rapidly reduce Germany’s energy dependence on Russia. In the end, the Zeitenwende was a turning point in name only. Hamstrung by coalition infighting, Scholz failed to overhaul Germany’s defenses.

Now, however, German leaders are poised to deliver the transformation that circumstances demand. The Bundestag held elections in February, and Germany’s incoming government seems ready to declare its independence from Washington. Germany is preparing for a future in which the United States no longer reliably guarantees Europe’s security. To upgrade its army and kick-start its economy, Berlin is ending its long addiction to austerity, lifting a constitutional constraint that since 2009 has limited annual debt spending to a mere 0.35 percent of gross domestic product.

This new Germany will be able to support Ukraine without having to walk behind Washington. Germany will be less bound to an erratic American president who refuses to consult with Europe on Ukraine. Kyiv will benefit from Berlin’s newfound independence, and Germany’s example will likely encourage other European countries to step up their support for Ukraine. Berlin can take the lead in underwriting Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity and in urging the European Union to accept Ukraine as a member.

But Berlin’s push for autonomy will come at a price. Germany will have to take primary responsibility for deterring Russia in Europe—an enormous and risky job. If more intense forms of nationalism were to take hold in Europe, a revamped German military could fall into the hands of an extremist government, which could then use it to intimidate Germany’s neighbors. A more independent Germany will strengthen Europe’s presence on the global stage, but when it comes to intra-European affairs, the continent may well struggle to accommodate a more powerful Berlin.

A missing umbrella

For the past 80 years, West Germany and then a united Germany relied on the United States for its security. The relationship was mutually beneficial, although the two countries always had their disagreements. They clashed, for example, over the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003. Yet overall, Germans were comfortable living under the umbrella of U.S. protection. Germany saw no mortal enemies on the horizon and viewed its safety as a function of the transatlantic relationship.

Angela Merkel, who served as Germany’s chancellor from 2005 to 2021, thrived under this arrangement. Transatlantic cooperation was the bedrock of her foreign policy agenda. Merkel envisioned peace in Europe—brokered by the European Union—and a nonconfrontational relationship with Russia. Under Merkel, Germany related to the rest of the world through diplomacy and commerce, not military might, and its strategy was informed by multilateralism and a commitment to the rule of law.

When Russian President Vladimir Putin annexed Crimea in 2014, Merkel insisted that there was “no military solution” to the crisis. Her goal was to maintain a post-1991 European order in which institutions such as the EU and NATO were the arbiters of Europe’s destiny and in which Russia had some kind of seat at the table. Despite Russia’s aggression, Merkel did everything she could not to transform Germany. She wanted to avert a European war by managing relations with Russia and preserving the U.S. commitment to Europe’s defense.

Her successor, Scholz, shared her inclinations. His Zeitenwende was cautious, and he perpetuated many of Merkel’s policies. In 2022, Scholz created a special fund of more than $100 billion to upgrade German military capacity. But the debt brake blocked more ambitious investments in defense and infrastructure. Germany eventually accepted over one million Ukrainian refugees and sent billions of dollars’ worth of aid to Kyiv, yet it was slow to address its own military deficits.

Germany’s halting approach to defense was not entirely Scholz’s fault. He was held back not just by his country’s constitution but by its political reality. The Social Democrats, Scholz’s party, had a long history of engaging with Russia going back to Ostpolitik—a West German effort to normalize relations with East Germany and other Soviet bloc countries in the 1970s. It was difficult to shift gears completely. Other German parties favored maintaining ties with Russia even after the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The Alternative for Germany (AfD) is far right, NATO skeptical, and Putin-friendly, and its leaders have regularly derided Scholz as a warmonger. During Scholz’s time in office, the AfD gained significant ground, doubling its vote share to 20 percent in the last election. Scholz also had to manage a fractious three-party coalition. Members of his bloc were not willing to eliminate the debt brake. Nor were they willing to wean Germany off Russian energy by extending the life of Germany’s nuclear reactors, which Merkel had shut down. Now many of these constraints no longer apply.

Bulking season

Scholz’s successor, Friedrich Merz of the Christian Democratic Party, is eager to reduce Germany’s reliance on the U.S. security umbrella. This comes as something of a surprise, given his background. Merz prides himself on being a transatlanticist, and his party has long embraced Westbindung—the concept that Germany must coordinate and cooperate with the United States. Yet since the inauguration of U.S. President Donald Trump in January, public sentiment in Germany has shifted so precipitously that the country’s next leader is almost guaranteed to transform foreign and economic policy, a process that has already started. In March, the Bundestag voted by a two-thirds majority to remove the debt brake, clearing the way for Germany to spend over a trillion dollars on defense and infrastructure. Merz has vowed to pour money into Germany’s military hardware, intelligence, and information security.

Wide support for a stronger, more independent Germany is lending an aura of inevitability to the country’s metamorphosis. Merz’s crusade to remove the debt brake was not motivated by personal whim. He was channeling German public opinion across the political spectrum. Most Germans now believe that the United States is unwilling to underwrite European security, could stop its assistance to Ukraine, and might even draw down its military presence in Europe. Merz has the political backing to assume greater debt, boost the country’s defense capabilities, and stimulate the economy, if he can cut through red tape and assuage domestic concerns about migration.

The recent transformation of German politics was not born out of a discrete set of policy objectives—such as helping Ukraine survive. It follows from the realization that old formulas no longer apply. If the United States is not a reliable partner, Westbindung will fall out of vogue or take on a new meaning. Some Germans have already redefined the concept as cooperation with Europe. Germany is therefore changing its posture and releasing itself from the strictures that had been imposed on it by the Soviet Union, the United States, Europe, and the German people themselves after World War II.

Other European countries and the United States will applaud Germany’s investment in defense, at least in the short term. France, Poland, and the United Kingdom share Germany’s anxiety over Russia’s designs on Europe and would welcome Berlin’s rearmament, as would Nordic and southern European countries. Merz can work with these governments to upgrade German capabilities in ways that fill Europe’s gaps. A rearmed Germany would also show Trump that Berlin is shouldering its share of collective defense—something the president has long called for. And if the United States pulled away from Europe, a more militarily capable Germany would be better positioned to pick up the slack.

Gentle giant?

As necessary as it is for Germany to rearm today, doing so could have troubling consequences in the long term. Europe was mostly peaceful from 1945 to 2014 in part because Europeans rejected the idea that war could solve problems. They devised nonmilitary institutions, such as the European Union, through which they could hash out their differences. And aggressive nationalism receded after World War II, as Europeans learned to channel their patriotic zeal through soccer, not war.

Another important driver of postwar peace was the relative demilitarization of Germany. During the Cold War, West Germany had a sizable military, but the country was occupied by foreign powers, including France and the United Kingdom. Germany was not fully sovereign. After the Cold War, a united Germany reduced its army and was content to spend little on defense. Berlin posed no threats.

Germany’s highest ideal is still a Europe without war, but now the country is rearming so it can make its own decisions. Former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger once described Germany as being “too big for Europe, too small for the world.” The country will never be a global superpower, his thinking went, but it cannot avoid having a dominant position within Europe. Germany has Europe’s largest population and economy. Should it also acquire a powerful military, it could become a regional hegemon—or risk being seen as one.

A rearmed Germany could unsettle its neighbors.

The first country to challenge a more assertive Germany will be Russia, Germany’s traditional rival in central and eastern Europe. Germany is rearming because of Russia, and it is doing so amid a major European war. Moscow, which is already sabotaging Germany, will do whatever it can to frustrate a strengthening Berlin. According to a senior NATO official, for example, Russia tried last year to assassinate the CEO of Rheinmetall, a German arms manufacturer. If Germany rearms, Russia may provoke a crisis to discourage Germans from becoming more autonomous.

A rearmed Germany will remain a force for good only if its government can avoid falling into the hands of ultranationalists. For generations, Europe has known a Germany that is unwilling to use military force. Having lived through the horrors of extreme nationalism in the 1930s and 1940s, Germany had no desire to fight or inflame tensions with its neighbors. Yet nationalism can be contagious, and charismatic leaders can take it in unpredictable directions. It is already ascendant in places as disparate as China, India, Russia, and the United States.

A rearmed Germany could unsettle its neighbors. Other European countries already criticize Germany for throwing its financial weight around in Brussels. A more broadly powerful Germany might provoke the rise of nationalism in nearby countries beyond Russia, and greater nationalism in Germany’s vicinity could, in turn, fuel nationalism within Germany itself. And a German military first strengthened by politically centrist, pro-European governments could fall into the hands of leaders willing to relitigate Germany’s borders or to forgo EU-style deliberation in favor of military blackmail.

The United States, for its part, can help Europe adjust to a rearmed Germany. If the Trump administration is determined to reduce its European footprint, it should do so slowly. After World War II, the United States became a balancing power—first in western Europe and then, when the Soviet Union collapsed, in central and eastern Europe, as well. A gradual exit from the European theater, during which the United States slowly removes military assets so that European countries can replace them with their own, would be vastly preferable to an abrupt withdrawal. Rushed changes could leave vacuums of power conducive to fear and suspicion. Properly planned for, a rearmed Germany could be just the right size for Europe.

(Source: Foreign Affairs)

Michael Kimmage is Professor of History at the Catholic University of America and the author of The Abandonment of the West: The History of an Idea in American Foreign Policy.

Sudha David-Wilp is Vice President of External Relations and a Senior Fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States.