Friedrich Merz’s chancellorship, born of a second-ballot vote that exposed its fragility from the outset, marks its first anniversary in a state of advanced decay. The grand coalition of his Christian Democrats and the Social Democrats has alienated voters with dizzying speed. Polling from INSA now places the Union at twenty-four percent—four points below its election result—while the SPD, traditionally the party of the working class, has slumped to levels that make the previous traffic-light coalition look popular by comparison. The government’s approval ratings have plunged even below those of Olaf Scholz’s unstable administration, a damning metric that analysts in Berlin treat as a measure of cumulative disillusionment.

The coalition’s internal strife has become a public spectacle. Senior CDU figures openly question whether the SPD is capable of reform; SPD faction leaders retaliate by questioning Merz’s capacity to govern. Viewed from Frankfurt, the chancellor’s response has been oddly passive—lamenting the slowness of democratic processes in interviews, floating eccentric proposals such as abolishing the First of May holiday to boost productivity, a notion that sent his vice-chancellor, Lars Klingbeil, into an expletive-laden fury. Such theatrics, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung notes, substitute for the structural reforms the economy urgently requires.

Beyond domestic squabbling, Merz’s communication style has become a liability on the European stage. A planned partial withdrawal of American troops, announced from Washington with minimal prior coordination, caught the German government flat-footed. The chancellor’s subsequent remarks on the Iran conflict further revealed a lack of awareness of how his words ricochet across digital platforms. Commentators in Zurich characterise this as a deeply retrograde understanding of political communication for a leader in 2026.

From Barcelona and Madrid, the picture is starker still. La Vanguardia calls Merz’s first year a lost year for Europe, while El Mundo highlights the visible decay on Berlin’s Alexanderplatz—homeless encampments and passive policing—as a metaphor for a government that presides without steering. Meanwhile, the Alternative for Germany capitalises on the disarray, rising in polls as mainstream parties tear each other apart.

What comes next? CDU strategists are already gaming scenarios for an exit from the coalition, yet no viable alternative commands a parliamentary majority without the very Social Democrats they disdain. Merz himself, now even less popular than his predecessor, may face a challenge from within his own party. The grand coalition has not merely lost momentum; it has lost its sense of purpose, and Germany drifts without an obvious course correction in sight.