CDU’s Party Congress: A Carefully Choreographed Illusion

A carefully choreographed event—that’s what Germany’s CDU congress last weekend was. Some have called it “cozy,” others a safe space, still others a parallel universe in which party functionaries and delegates acted as if no problems existed, despite the massive social and economic upheavals affecting their country. It was fitting that the event lasted only a few hours, further truncated by technical problems. There was no time for debate, let alone dissent.

Yet however carefully the functionaries choreographed the proceedings, one problem dominated everything: the populist AfD. It was the elephant in the room, as Jasper von Altenbockum of the FAZ aptly put it—and it showed. Every speech, every resolution, every carefully managed applause line was, at its core, a response to a challenge the party simply cannot make go away—a challenge that has driven it into the arms of a coalition partner many of its own members deeply resent.

“I have taken the clear and final decision to seek approval for our policies exclusively in the political center of our country,” said Chancellor Friedrich Merz in an otherwise largely hollow speech. This was the message underpinning the entire event, imposed on everyone present: the cordon sanitaire must hold; there can be no cooperation with the populists. It was also, as political scientist Werner Patzelt observed, a signal to CDU branches in parts of Germany where important local elections loom in the coming weeks and months—and where the CDU faces being “shredded” by the AfD.

Much as Odysseus once had himself lashed to the mast to resist the Sirens’ song, Merz has lashed his party to the SPD.

“Good for Merz and bad for the country” was the verdict of some of the more conservative commentators. Despite languishing in the polls at around 25%—the worst approval rating of any chancellor after one year in office—Merz received standing ovations and was reconfirmed as party leader with an “impressive” 91.2%. This is a far cry from the humiliation of last year, when he needed a second round of voting to secure his chancellorship in parliament after winning the general election with a poor result, and after members of his own party refused to back him.

The man elected a year ago on the promise of change—of breaking with the mistakes of his predecessors, above all Angela Merkel’s refugee and energy policies—now pledged to bow to the same tired politics of “no alternatives” that defined those very predecessors. As if to reward him for the capitulation—though in reality more likely to reinforce his position—Merkel herself was present, applauding along with the rest.

The political price for this show of unity is steep. No concrete goals were presented, let alone bold proposals or visions for tackling the country’s formidable problems. Merz framed his widely criticized decision to loosen Germany’s debt brake—a principle he had defended so staunchly before the elections—as painful but necessary. Meager growth expectations of 1.0% for this year were celebrated as a turning point (“we’re growing again”), while the hundreds of thousands of jobs lost, predominantly in industry, went unmentioned. Anyone hoping for clarity on how to address the increasingly unsustainable welfare state—and the mounting pressure on pensions—would have left deeply disappointed. Here lies the coalition’s central contradiction: every meaningful reform Merz might have promised runs headlong into the SPD’s resistance, making bold action not merely unlikely, but structurally impossible. The coalition’s mutual dependence has become a mutual veto—and the losers are the voters. “Reform does not mean cutting back on welfare. That is certainly not my approach, and not in line with our party’s history,” Merz thundered.

The conference, one commentator observed, resembled a “peace treaty” between the CDU and the SPD. Merz acknowledged as much: “I am fully aware that this means the two remaining parties of the democratic center—the CDU/CSU and the SPD—are dependent on each other. Both parties are suffering internally as a result. Both are worried about their voters.” That two parties once regarded as the main rivals in a political system offering voters a genuine choice were now openly admitting they were bound to disappoint even their remaining supporters was, perhaps, the conference’s one honest moment.

The unofficial message was clear: voters who want real change will need to look elsewhere. Even on migration and asylum—the issue on which the CDU had most loudly claimed progress—the party has been forced to backtrack. Interior Minister Alexander Dobrindt’s “Sofort-in-Arbeit-Plan,” designed to allow asylum seekers to work just three months after filing their application, is a policy many fear will function as yet another pull factor. As if to extinguish any remaining expectations, Merz added, “Perhaps we did not make it clear quickly enough after the change of government that we will not be able to achieve this enormous reform effort overnight—I accept this criticism.”

But this is not humility—it is irresponsibility toward a country that cannot kick the can down the road forever and which is already in serious decline. Upholding the cordon sanitaire has become the default means of avoiding debate and deflecting criticism—a shield against accountability to voters. So enfeebled has the CDU become that even the physical conditions of the weekend event were those of a safe space: an awareness team was on hand to ensure everyone felt comfortable.

And it will not end there. Where younger conservatives, before last year’s elections, still campaigned to roll back restrictions on free speech—such as the push to abolish §188 of the penal code, which criminalizes defamation and insults of politicians—there are now plans to tighten them further. Merz’s call for a blanket real-name requirement for all social media posts is the most telling example. When politicians retreat into safe spaces, the rest of us can expect more censorship.

Authoritarianism and disappointed expectations, combined with a lack of vision, are reliable ways of alienating ever more voters. Perhaps Merz’s most blatant broken promise was that he would fight to win back AfD voters. Instead, the elephant in the room has emerged as the real winner of this caricature of a party conference. Polls show its continued rise. Even in Berlin, where a new mayor will be elected in the autumn, the AfD has climbed to second place—a minor revolution in itself. The weekend’s conference, however meticulously choreographed, reveals one thing clearly: the CDU is lost.