The great divider disguised as a unifier by Sabine Fischer

When Friedrich Merz took office as Germany’s new chancellor, he wasted no time positioning himself as the man who would restore European strength against external threats. His rhetoric is carefully tailored: a strong Europe facing down Vladimir Putin’s imperial ambitions and Donald Trump’s chaotic return to power. But beneath the grandiose promises and strategic posturing, Merz’s true vision is far from the unifying force he claims to be. His Christian Democratic agenda, deeply rooted in an increasingly far-right ideology, is poised to fracture Europe from within rather than fortify it.

Merz is not the traditional centrist conservative that his predecessors, such as Angela Merkel, embodied. Merkel, for all her pragmatism, understood that unity in Europe was a delicate balancing act, one that required compromise, not just rhetoric. Merz, on the other hand, thrives on division. His economic ultra-orthodoxy, his hardline stance on immigration, and his thinly veiled contempt for progressive policies reveal a man who sees leadership as an exercise in dominance rather than cooperation. His agenda is not about building bridges across Europe, but about reshaping it into an ideological fortress where only his brand of conservatism prevails.

Merz’s political strategy hinges on presenting himself as the last defense against two major geopolitical forces: Trump’s unpredictable populism and Putin’s authoritarian aggression. He speaks of European resilience, of sovereignty, of a Europe that can stand its ground. And yet, for all his posturing, his approach is fundamentally flawed.

To counter Putin effectively, Europe needs solidarity, not just militarization. Yet Merz’s policies, particularly his economic ones, lean towards austerity measures that have historically exacerbated tensions among EU member states. His brand of fiscal conservatism will widen the gap between northern and southern Europe, creating an economic hierarchy that fosters resentment rather than unity. Countries struggling with debt and inflation will find little solace in Merz’s rigid financial doctrine, and this economic imbalance will, inevitably, play into Putin’s hands.

As for Trump, Merz presents himself as Europe’s bulwark against the former U.S. president’s erratic nationalism. But Merz himself flirts with the same brand of right-wing populism that fueled Trump’s rise. His views on immigration and identity politics mirror the rhetoric of the far-right, and his alliances within Germany already include voices that sympathize with the very forces he claims to oppose. If Trump returns to power, Merz will not be a European shield, he will be another pawn in the larger game of nationalist resurgence, where alliances shift based on ideological expediency rather than principle.

The most dangerous aspect of Merz’s leadership is his ability to masquerade as a moderate while pushing policies that inch closer to the far-right. The CDU, under his leadership, is veering away from the centrist conservatism that made it Germany’s dominant political force for decades. Instead, Merz embraces a reactionary vision, one that seeks to roll back social progress under the guise of “traditional values” and “economic discipline.”

His stance on immigration is particularly telling. While he stops short of openly aligning with the extremist AfD, his policies and rhetoric echo their fearmongering narratives. He has suggested stricter migration controls, questioned Germany’s capacity for integration, and played into the idea that Europe is under siege by foreign influences. This is not the language of unity, it is the language of division, designed to stoke anxieties and rally support from the growing base of disillusioned conservatives who feel betrayed by Merkel’s more inclusive approach.

On economic policy, Merz champions a model that prioritizes corporate interests and fiscal discipline at the expense of social cohesion. His vision of a strong Europe does not include a robust social safety net or policies that address growing inequality. Instead, he leans into the myth that austerity equals strength, a philosophy that, if implemented on a continental scale, will only deepen existing fractures within the EU. Countries struggling to recover from economic crises will find themselves further marginalized, increasing tensions within the bloc and making Europe more vulnerable to external manipulation.

Merz’s rise to power comes at a critical moment for Europe. The continent faces external threats from Russia and an unpredictable America, but its greatest challenge may be internal. The battle for the soul of Europe is not just about military readiness or economic stability, it is about the fundamental question of what kind of Europe we want to build.

A Europe led by Merz is not a Europe of unity. It is a Europe of rigid conservatism, economic Darwinism, and cultural retrenchment. It is a Europe that risks alienating its own people while claiming to protect them. The choice before European leaders is clear: either rally behind a vision of genuine solidarity and progress or allow figures like Merz to redefine unity as submission to their ideology.

Merz may present himself as a unifier, but his politics tell a different story. His legacy will not be one of a strong, united Europe standing against external threats, it will be one of internal strife, widening divisions, and a continent left vulnerable by its own leader’s inability to embrace the true meaning of European unity. And that, ultimately, is the greatest threat Europe faces today.