According to a Forsa poll from last year, only 16% of Germans said they would “definitely take up arms” to defend their country, while 22% said they would probably do so. A clear majority of 59% said they would “probably not” or definitely not be prepared to defend Germany militarily in the event of an attack. Among women, this figure rises to 72%. This is hardly surprising in a country where the political debate has rarely advanced beyond a simplistic “war or no war” binary—when the debate should really be about whether there is anything worth defending—and why. This is a debate the German government is clearly unable to lead.
Over decades, Germany’s political elites have systematically undermined the very values that might inspire citizens to feel a stake in their country’s defence. They promoted the comforting fiction that war in Europe was a thing of the past—that the EU would guarantee peace indefinitely. They cast the defence of borders as an outdated, vaguely sinister concern. They marginalised democratic nationhood—the sense of shared responsibility for a country and its future—in favour of technocratic governance and supranational structures. And they tarred even mild expressions of patriotism with the brush of the far right.
An elite steeped in this ideology had no difficulty abolishing conscription, weakening the army, and believing that trade and diplomatic engagement could appease even the most hostile regimes. Wandel durch Annäherung—change through rapprochement—would protect German interests, while actual wars would be fought in distant countries by professional armies. Much of this worldview now lies in ruins. But one thing has remained: the government’s fear of the public. That is why it cannot bring itself to make the case for compulsory service and why, despite all the tough talk, it continues to flinch from taking clear positions—on Taurus cruise missiles for Ukraine, on arms exports to Israel—wherever this might prove costly.