Germany’s relationship with Russia is rooted in a complex legacy of war, division, and economic dependence. The Cold War’s parceling of Germany into a NATO West and Soviet East laid the foundation for a long-standing consensus: stable and friendly relations with Russia were deemed vital. This legacy still influences German policy today, forming a backdrop of restraint against which Chancellor Friedrich Merz of the Christian Democratic Union (CDU) is now pushing for a strategic shift.
His first trip to Washington—and his call for renewed U.S. commitment to the transatlantic alliance—has intensified expectations that Germany must take a leading role in Europe’s defense against Russian aggression. Yet deep domestic divisions, coalition constraints, and shifting geopolitical realities threaten to undermine his ambitions.
Legacy Constraints
Merz’s coalition government is only beginning its term in office, and Russia looms large across a range of critical policy areas, from reviving Germany’s defense industry and deterrence capabilities to managing relations with EU neighbors, securing energy supplies, and safeguarding the future of the German economy. To complicate matters further, a new Russia policy must be formulated at a time when the United States is reducing its security commitment to Europe and is in a trade war with the EU; relations inside the EU and NATO are fraught with personal and national rivalries; Ukraine is not winning the war and requires an increasing amount of assistance; and the domestic backlash against supporting Kyiv is growing.
Merz’s coalition partner, the traditionally pacifist Social Democratic Party (SPD), is highly attuned to this public sentiment. The party’s outlook on Russia is deeply rooted in Willy Brandt’s Ostpolitik. Germany’s first social democrat Chancellor (1969–1974) sought détente with the Soviet Union through economic engagement. While relations fluctuated under subsequent SPD and CDU governments, his engagement-first mindset persisted, and the SPD later saw the peaceful reunification as a clear vindication of its outlook and Brandt’s Ostpolitik.
In freshly unified Germany, the fact that the reunification had depended on the Kremlin’s goodwill created a sense that a united Germany’s future is tied to Russian benevolence. A political notion emerged that to preserve sovereignty and security, Germany had to maintain at least a neutral, if not friendly, relationship with both opposing superpowers of the Cold War, but especially with Moscow, the likelier aggressor. These ideas continued to influence German policy toward Russia after Vladimir Putin came to power at the turn of the millennium.
Chancellors Gerhard Schröder (1998–2005) and Angela Merkel (2005–2021) advanced distinct but converging approaches to Russia that embedded economic dependence and political restraint within their parties. Although after the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 the so-called traffic light coalition marked a significant shift in Russia policy—introducing the Zeitenwende (an overhaul of foreign and defense policy), suspending Nord Stream 2, and delivering weapons to Ukraine—familiar patterns soon resurfaced.
The SPD struggled to break with its legacy, often clashing with its coalition partners over arms deliveries and sanctions. This lack of coherence contributed to the government’s collapse and a crushing electoral defeat in the 2025 snap elections. The Russia-friendly legacies of Brandt, Schröder, and Merkel within the CDU and the SPD now limit Merz’s ability to chart a decisive break.
Ukraine at the Core
Regarding Russia, Merz’s coalition agreement reads ambitiously. It pledges to comprehensively support Ukraine: militarily, civilly, and politically. The German government intends to enable Ukraine to effectively defend itself against Russian aggression and assert itself in negotiations for “a real and lasting peace,” operating from a position of strength and on equal footing. Germany seeks to provide military and political security guarantees for a sovereign Ukraine and to participate in its reconstruction.
The coalition also strives to effectively implement national sanctions against Russia and supports EU plans for tariffs on fertilizer imports from Russia and Belarus. Exploring ways with partners to economically utilize frozen Russian state assets for Ukraine’s financial and military support is another goal.
Furthermore, Germany under Merz stands by Ukraine’s NATO membership prospects and supports the establishment of a special tribunal to prosecute the war of aggression. Ukraine’s EU membership is noted as an important goal of mutual interest several times in the coalition treaty, which mentions Ukraine seventeen times, and Russia just three times. In other words, Germany’s new government identifies the Ukraine war as the core lens and organizing principle for engaging with Russia—not the other way around.
The agreement foresees significant changes to the security policy apparatus. Most notably, the two parties pledge to establish a National Security Council, institutionally anchored within the Federal Chancellery and likely headed by a new national security advisor. Additionally, for the first time since 1966, both the chancellor and the foreign minister belong to the same party, removing an obstacle that had previously hindered coherent foreign policy coordination.
Merz has retained Boris Pistorius (SPD), a staunch proponent of deterrence, as defense minister and appointed new state secretaries in the Foreign Office with strong Russia and NATO expertise. Compared to his predecessor Olaf Scholz, Merz is therefore institutionally and politically better positioned to assert control over foreign policy. Whether this potential for coherence will translate into consistent execution remains to be seen. It certainly reflects the elevated role of foreign policy in the new chancellor’s agenda.
A conservative West German transatlanticist, Merz was never a strong advocate of the Merkel-era economic normalization and deeper energy ties with Russia. Since February 2022, Merz has positioned himself as a defender of a firm line against Moscow. He castigated Scholz for lack of leadership in the EU against Russian aggression and campaigned on the promise of arms deliveries to Ukraine, like the Taurus missile system. He framed the war as a defining struggle for Western democracy.
Now that he is in office, however, the new chancellor faces significant domestic and coalition restrictions. Amid the constraints of governing alongside the cautious SPD, Merz swiftly paused his Taurus demands. When he announced the intention to lift the range restrictions on missiles delivered to Ukraine from Germany at the end of May, it was the same influential SPD figures who had already pushed back against the delivery of heavy weaponry to Ukraine within the traffic light coalition who turned against him.
In one of his first speeches, Merz announced that Germany would become the country with the “strongest conventional army in Europe” as a means of restoring credibility in the transatlantic partnership and deterrence of Russia. To that end, the new chancellor wants to spend a historic 5 percent of the country’s GDP on defense. But here, a number of SPD grandees also push back against the idea, questioning higher military spending.
These differences reveal two problems at play: the legacy of Russia appeasement within the SPD and the uncertainty about the party’s ability to serve as a reliable partner for Merz’s goals regarding defense and Russia. Beyond that, Merz’s at times volatile leadership style could complicate their implementation. He clearly had not communicated the announcement to end the missile reach cap to his coalition partner. This unilateral overreach underscores a pattern of spontaneous moves and uncoordinated action in his decisionmaking, often alienating potential allies.
Within his own party, Merz also has to deal with the CDU’s eastern state branches advocating for a return to Merkel’s Russia policies. Michael Kretschmer, CDU governor of Saxony, for example, openly advocates for resuming gas imports from Russia and bringing the Nord Stream pipelines back into operation. During coalition negotiations with the SPD in the spring, Kretschmer wanted to discuss easing sanctions on Russia.
The reason for such behavior is pressure from the AfD. The far-right party, which campaigned on ceasing military support for Ukraine, trailed the CDU by less than 2 percentage points in the Saxony elections last fall. Kretschmer increasingly finds himself held hostage to the positions of the AfD and having to prevent further voter defections. The internal divisions within his own party certainly contributed to Merz’s decision to stall his pledge to deliver Taurus missiles, which would require active training of Ukrainian soldiers by German forces.
While Saxony is an outlier, the situation represents shifting German public opinion largely unaligned with Merz’s Russia and Ukraine policies. Currently, only about 25 percent of Germans support the delivery of long-range Taurus missiles to Ukraine, according to recent surveys; half of the increasingly war-weary German public still approves of providing Ukraine with other weapons and/or money. Back in the spring of 2022, public backing for sending weapons to Ukraine was over 65 percent.
This puts Merz’s most recent initiative, announced during Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky’s Berlin visit, in sharper perspective: his push to fund the production of long-range munitions in Ukraine is both a concrete show of support and a strategic workaround. By sidestepping the politically charged issue of delivering Taurus missiles, he is offering tangible help without triggering a further backlash against and within his thin parliamentary mandate.
Europe Looks to Berlin
Internationally, the recalibration of U.S. foreign policy under the Trump administration puts further pressure on Merz, effectively thrusting the new coalition into a leadership role in Europe that neither the Social Democrats nor parts of the CDU are fully ready to fill.
A first step toward assuming a leadership role in Europe could be German support for joint European defense bonds, allowing other EU member states to benefit from Germany’s AAA credit rating. Until autumn 2024, Merz opposed such a move, fearing it could lead to long-term debt mutualization. Now he is dodging the question.
Meanwhile, the EU Commission has acknowledged that asking countries more focused on domestic concerns to significantly increase defense spending is a difficult proposition. To ensure higher European defense spending, the Baltic states, Poland, Finland, Greece, and even traditionally frugal Denmark now support joint EU borrowing for defense. Merz could add substance to the strong symbolism of his early days in office by joining their ranks.
The central question, then, is not whether Merz aspires to lead Europe’s response to Russian aggression: his vision is clear, rooted in transatlantic conviction and strategic realism. Rather, the challenge is whether he can effectively lead amid the heavy legacy of Germany’s past, the structural constraints of a divided coalition, and the shifting geopolitical and economic pressures surrounding Ukraine.
As Merz seeks to pivot Germany from a posture of accommodation to one of deterrence, he must contend not only with external threats, but also with internal resistance—from a hesitant SPD, a divided CDU, and a war-weary public. Whether Germany can move from restraint to deterrence will depend less on Merz’s vision and more on his ability to govern within—and around—the limits imposed by his political environment.
