Engagement with China pragmatic amid fraying transatlantic relations

The German leader gives the impression of a man who prefers his convictions orderly and well-defined. Yet there he was this week, peering across the tariff barricades erected by the United States administration and announcing that Germany would seek "strategic partnerships" with China.

The pivot of the liberal-minded judge and corporate lawyer from Brilon, who once viewed the world in more clear-cut terms, now seeking common ground with Beijing because Washington has appeared to decide Europe is less partner than a source of profit, looks like a plot twist in a Cold War paperback. History likes to add its own twist to a tale.

But Friedrich Merz's evolution since taking office as chancellor in mid-2025 has been less a transformation and more a pragmatic taking stock. The Ukraine crisis continues to drain Europe's coffers and patience; relations between the European Union and the US have been strained by tariffs that German industry calls "security theater with a price tag"; and EU-China ties oscillate between suspicion and necessity. Germany's export machine — which sent goods worth around $80 billion to China last year, a marked drop from more than $100 billion four years ago — does not run on ideology. It runs on orders.

The US accounts for roughly 10 percent of German exports; China, about 7 percent — but the growth potential in China's green transition, electric vehicles and artificial intelligence infrastructure dwarfs that of a tariff-happy US.

Merz's background is classic West German establishment: born in 1955 in North Rhine-Westphalia, trained as a lawyer, polished in boardrooms, and shaped within the pro-business wing of the Christian Democratic Union, his worldview was forged when the transatlantic alliance was sacrosanct and supply chains were local. But the 2020s have been less than kind to the tidy binaries that previously characterized postwar transatlantic relations. When allies slap tariffs on your steel and subsidize your competitors, the categories of "friend" and "frenemy" begin to blur.

At the Munich Security Conference last week, Merz spoke of "a changed era" and the need for Germany to adapt — language that echoed, albeit faintly, the more candid realism voiced weeks earlier in Davos by Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney who frankly acknowledged the West's postwar liberal order was fraying. For a CDU chancellor, Merz's acknowledgement of change was itself notable.

His mention of an upcoming China trip, his first since taking office, was read in Berlin as a signal flare: Germany may seek to balance the negative spillovers from US trade policy by deepening pragmatic ties with Beijing. Not as a counterweight to Washington, as some observers insist, but as a matter of German interest. The distinction is less philosophical than fiscal.

Domestic politics are tightening the vise. German manufacturers warn of a "second China shock" if they lose competitiveness in the world's largest EV market. Farmers fret over fertilizer costs tied to geopolitical tensions. Voters, meanwhile, are less interested in ideological purity than in energy bills and job security. A chancellor who campaigned on fiscal prudence now faces the expensive reality of strategic autonomy.

Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi, in his recent meetings with Merz and his German counterpart, outlined a practical perspective that likely resonated: view China objectively, expand cooperation in green development and digital technology, and stabilize China-EU relations for mutual benefit. Stripped of diplomatic flourishes, it was the message that Germany has a stake in a stable EU-China relationship.

The numbers argue for steadiness. China remains Germany's largest trading partner for the eighth consecutive year, with bilateral trade reaching about $300 billion. German automakers sell more cars in China than anywhere else. Joint ventures in renewable energy and hydrogen technology are multiplying. Even in AI, where security anxieties loom, research collaboration continues through European frameworks. This is not a relationship easily reduced to slogans.

Caught between the legacy of the transatlantic alliance and Eurasian economic realities, Merz is in what must feel to him like a difficult position. Some critics argue his steps are too tentative, while supporters say he is steering a new course. The situation resembles a driver assessing his route after the conditions of the road have changed.

Will Germany align its China policy closely with US strategy or develop it as part of its own independent foreign policy? This is not na?veté. Europe has concerns about market access, intellectual property rights and "security". But engagement and caution are not mutually exclusive; they are the twin engines of diplomacy. Germany, with its export prowess and engineering might, is uniquely positioned to turn cooperation into leverage rather than dependency.

Merz's China trip, if it materializes, could mark the beginning of a more balanced approach, one that recognizes Beijing can be a supportive partner. Today, statecraft involves recognizing the world has become more complex beyond a simple binary.