Although just three years have passed since Merkel left office, the world has changed so dramatically that her chancellorship already feels like it belongs to a different era. Her new memoir finds her at peace with the decisions she made, including those that have been judged most harshly.
BERLIN – Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel’s highly anticipated memoir, Freedom, was published last month to much fanfare. Co-authored with Beate Baumann, her longtime chief of staff and confidant, the book offers an in-depth look at Merkel’s extraordinary life and career, and has been translated into more than 30 languages. It was launched with sold-out events in Berlin, London, and Washington, the latter hosted by former US President Barack Obama.
One might wonder whether such a high-profile publishing tour – typically reserved for US presidents rather than former leaders of mid-size powers like Germany – is excessive. After all, the memoirs of former UK Prime Ministers Tony Blair and David Cameron did not attract this level of international attention, nor did those of former French Presidents Nicolas Sarkozy and François Hollande.
Admittedly, at the height of her popularity, Merkel was not only Europe’s most influential politician; after Donald Trump’s victory in the 2016 US presidential election, she was often referred to as the “leader of the free world.” But despite leaving office just three years ago, the world has changed so dramatically that her chancellorship already feels like it belongs to a different era.
For Germany, the past few years have been particularly challenging. An economy toggling between recession and stagnation has exposed the consequences of decades of underinvestment in infrastructure, housing, education, and digitalization. Inflation has eroded wages, exacerbating the housing affordability crisis. And record-high migration inflows have fueled widespread public discontent, enabling both the far right and the far left to make significant electoral gains.
Meanwhile, Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine underscored the failure of Merkel’s repeated efforts to appease Russian President Vladimir Putin. Just days after the invasion, her successor, Olaf Scholz, declared an “epochal shift” (Zeitenwende) in Germany’s defense and foreign policies, particularly toward Russia. In an instant, the world that Merkel helped to shape had vanished.
While many of these developments occurred after Merkel left office, she left Scholz with numerous issues to resolve. By contrast, Merkel benefited greatly from the labor-market reforms introduced by her predecessor, Gerhard Schröder, particularly in the early years of her chancellorship. Though deeply unpopular at the time – and partly responsible for Merkel’s victory in the 2005 election – the so-called Hartz reforms laid the foundation for Germany’s economic turnaround and fiscal consolidation, enabling it to become Europe’s strongest economy by the mid-2010s.
Unlike Schröder, Merkel did not introduce any major reforms of her own, likely because – although necessary – they carried significant political risks. Her tenure was characterized by small, technocratic steps rather than grand ambitions for Germany’s future, much less Europe’s. More manager than a visionary leader, Merkel aligned with the preferences of German voters, who typically shy away from charismatic politicians with bold agendas. As former Chancellor Helmut Schmidt once quipped, “Anyone who has visions should go see a doctor.”
From Crisis to Crisis
To be fair, Merkel spent much of her time in office, starting with the 2007-08 global financial meltdown, in crisis-management mode. In 2011, following the Fukushima nuclear disaster in Japan, she decided to phase out nuclear energy – a controversial decision that introduced significant uncertainty into the German and European energy markets. At the same time, Merkel and then-Finance Minister Wolfgang Schäuble’s handling of the eurozone debt crisis sparked outrage across Europe, especially in Greece, where images of her with a Hitler mustache reflected widespread anger and resentment.
In response to Russia’s illegal 2014 annexation of Crimea, Merkel initiated the Minsk Agreements, which were heavily skewed in Russia’s favor. The following year, she allowed more than one million migrants from the Middle East (mainly Syria), Africa, and Central Asia to enter Germany with minimal scrutiny – a brave humanitarian gesture that also provided fertile ground for the rise of far-right nationalist movements long relegated to the fringes of German politics.
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Then, in 2016, Merkel was tasked with managing the political and economic fallout from the United Kingdom’s Brexit referendum and Trump’s election, both of which represented significant diplomatic challenges during a period of deep uncertainty about the future of the European Union and US-German relations.
To top it all off, her last two years in office were overshadowed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Beyond its public-health impact, the pandemic profoundly affected Germany’s society, economy, and political landscape, with lockdowns and other safety protocols fueling public frustration.
Merkel’s leadership during these crises ended up elevating her domestic and global standing. Germany emerged from the 2008 financial crisis largely unscathed, and her approach to the European sovereign-debt crisis proved effective. Her decision to open Germany’s borders to more than one million refugees, though unpopular nowadays, earned widespread international praise at the time. Merkel also navigated the uncertainties created by Brexit and Trump’s election reasonably well. And, crucially, Germany handled the COVID-19 shock better than most countries.
But Merkel’s legacy has been marred by several major missteps, particularly her misreading of Putin’s expansionist ambitions and her reluctance to push for much-needed domestic reforms. Tellingly, her memoir devotes more attention to Putin than any other foreign leader. She strongly believed that maintaining political, economic, and cultural engagement with the Kremlin and its favorite oligarchs would enable her to build bridges and draw Russia closer to the West.
Consequently, Merkel refrained from measures that could undermine this effort or provoke Putin. For example, she voted against inviting Ukraine and Georgia to apply for NATO membership in 2008 – despite the support of then-US President George W. Bush – and went to great lengths to keep the Minsk Agreements alive. She also kept defense spending well below NATO’s 2%-of-GDP threshold, leaving Germany’s Bundeswehr (armed forces) severely weakened.
Perhaps most damning of all, Merkel championed the Nord Stream 2 pipeline, which was supposed to deliver Russian gas to Germany via the Baltic Sea, bypassing Poland and Ukraine, despite warnings from the United States and other NATO allies that this would make Putin even more dangerous. She defended her decision on economic grounds, arguing that it would lower energy costs and strengthen ties between Germany and Russia.
This raises the question: How could Merkel have been so naive about Putin when she proved to be a shrewd politician in so many other areas? In her memoir, she continues to frame Nord Stream 2 as primarily an economic project. Despite nearly three years of relentless Russian aggression in Ukraine, she remains steadfast in her belief that Wandel durch Handel (change through commerce) was the best approach, insisting that she could neither ignore Russia nor adopt a confrontational approach.
Throughout her 16 years in power, German voters trusted Merkel, admiring her steady, calm persona in the midst of serial crises. Her famous credo, “Wir schaffen das” (“we will manage it”), which she used to great effect at the height of the 2015 migration crisis, became emblematic of her pragmatic, no-nonsense approach to leadership and public messaging.
Her critics, however, focused on Merkel’s tendency to address problems only after they arose, rather than taking steps to prevent them. They pointed to a long list of vital reforms she failed to pursue while in office, ranging from infrastructure and public transport to education, immigration, public administration, domestic security, and digitalization. As a result, Germany was left ill-prepared for future challenges.
No Regrets
By the end of Merkel’s chancellorship, as the world slowly emerged from the pandemic, Germany appeared to be faring surprisingly well. But it soon became clear that German policymakers had been resting on their laurels for far too long. For decades, as the Brookings Institution’s Constanze Stelzenmüllernoted, Germany had “outsourced its security to the US, its export-led growth to China, and its energy needs to Russia.” After Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, this strategy revealed itself to be a serious vulnerability.
As it enters the second quarter of the twenty-first century, Germany finds itself in a precarious position. The Merkel era, with its constant crisis management, lack of domestic reforms, and naive foreign policy, gave way to Scholz’s fragmented and contentious “traffic light” coalition, which collapsed last month after failing to correct course. As the February 2025 elections approach, there is deep uncertainty about the country’s ability to overcome its current malaise.
Well aware of the daunting challenges ahead, Merkel devotes the closing chapters of her memoir to potential solutions. Among other things, she proposes reforming the debt brake, a constitutional cap on deficit spending that many analysts blame for Germany’s underinvestment in infrastructure, education, and digital technologies. She also calls for increasing defense spending to more than 2% of GDP.
Although these recommendations are useful, it remains unclear why Merkel changed her mind, especially given that she introduced the debt brake in 2009 and insisted on keeping Germany’s military spending below the 2% target. She neither offers explanations for this about-face, nor expresses regret for her earlier decisions.
In fact, Merkel appears remarkably at peace with her legacy. The decisions she made while in power – including those, like Nord Stream 2, that have been judged harshly in recent years – still seem entirely reasonable to her in retrospect.
Readers hoping for a deeper, critical analysis of Merkel’s chancellorship will be disappointed. There is no mea culpa to be found in the 720 pages of her memoir, nor any acknowledgment that others – for example, successive US administrations – may have been justified in urging Germany to increase its defense spending or in opposing the construction of Nord Stream 2.
As a result, Merkel’s account of her political career reads more like a meticulous office diary than a candid memoir. She recounts countless meetings and events in her trademark factual tone, yet rarely offers telling details or sharp observations that might bring these moments to life and shed light on her decision-making or the numerous leaders with whom she worked over the years. While some memoirs captivate readers with gossip or behind-the-scenes revelations, Merkel’s provides neither.
What Freedom does offer is an illuminating self-portrait. The book’s first section is the most revealing, tracing Merkel’s life between 1954 – when she was born – and the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. Titled “I Wasn’t Born Chancellor,” it explores how Merkel’s upbringing and education influenced her political trajectory, enabling her to become Germany’s first female chancellor and be re-elected three times.
The Two Lives of Angela Merkel
True to form, Merkel opens her prologue with a striking observation: “This book tells a story that will not happen again, because the state I lived in for thirty-five years ceased to exist in 1990.”
Having spent the first 35 years of her life under the East German dictatorship, pursuing a scientific career before she became a politician and a global leader, Merkel’s life has been marked by contrasts. It is this duality that explains why she chose the title Freedom. As she wryly notes, “If it had been offered to a publishing house as a work of fiction, it would have been turned down.”
Merkel was born in Hamburg, but her family soon moved to East Germany, where her father, a Protestant pastor, was offered a position in a small rural parish. While religion was marginalized in East Germany, the state struggled to meet many social needs, prompting the regime to allow religious institutions to provide certain services, albeit temporarily. These included facilities for the disabled and children with learning difficulties, often run by charitable foundations affiliated with the Protestant Church in Berlin-Brandenburg and funded by West German contributions.
One such institution was Waldhof, a relatively large complex surrounded by forests and located 80 kilometers (50 miles) north of Berlin, which also housed the pastoral college where Merkel’s father worked. In this secluded and idyllic setting, Merkel enjoyed a happy and protected childhood. She went on to study physics and later worked for the prestigious Academy of Sciences.
Initially, Merkel avoided overt political activity and did not get involved with dissident or underground opposition groups. It was not until the Berlin Wall fell that she became politically active, motivated by her support for a united Germany. She soon joined the Christian Democratic Union (CDU), where she became then-Chancellor Helmut Kohl’s protégé.
Though Merkel’s upbringing in the sheltered environment of Waldhof was a happy one, she was acutely aware of how fragile that environment was within the context of communist East Germany. This awareness, combined with her rigorous scientific training, instilled in her a strong belief in rationality and fact-based discourse. Together, these experiences shaped her political identity as a grounded leader who consistently relied on reason and evidence to guide her decisions. It was this combination of traits that made her so effective as a crisis manager.
The contrasts that defined Merkel’s life are evident in the book’s epilogue. “What does freedom mean to me?” she asks. “That question has preoccupied me throughout my whole life, on both a personal and a political level.” On one hand, freedom means “finding out where my own boundaries lie, and going to those boundaries.” On the other hand, it is about “not ceasing to learn, not having to stand still, but being able to go on, even after leaving politics.”
The first definition of freedom is rooted in Merkel’s early life: growing up in a sheltered Christian enclave under a dictatorship and rising to become a member of East Germany’s top academic institution. It’s the story of a scientist driven by curiosity, eager to make new discoveries. The second definition captures the arc of her post-1990 life: an audacious outsider from an extinct country who became the leader of one of the world’s largest democracies. Within a few short years, she would oust Kohl – who used to call her Mein Mädchen (“my girl”) – and assume leadership of the CDU.
Above all, it is the story of someone who made the most of what democracy had to offer. Merkel’s rise to the pinnacle of German politics is remarkable not only because of what she calls her “two lives,” but also because of her ability to combine two forms of freedom – that of a scientist and that of a politician – into a distinct leadership philosophy.
Freedom may lack the self-critical analysis some readers might expect, but it provides a revealing glimpse into the mind of a remarkable politician. As a pastor’s daughter in East Germany and an “Easterner” among the West German elite, Merkel has had to overcome deeply ingrained prejudices. These challenges help explain how she endured so long as chancellor.
Still, the big question remains unanswered: How will Merkel’s tenure be remembered? While she will likely be celebrated as an effective manager who steered Germany and Europe through multiple crises, her legacy will be colored by her domestic and foreign-policy failures.
Nevertheless, though she was neither a visionary nor a charismatic leader, Merkel was a perfect fit for Germany at a pivotal moment in its history. In an age of increasingly aggressive, polarizing leaders, her understated style may soon be missed.
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BERLIN – Former German Chancellor Angela Merkel’s highly anticipated memoir, Freedom, was published last month to much fanfare. Co-authored with Beate Baumann, her longtime chief of staff and confidant, the book offers an in-depth look at Merkel’s extraordinary life and career, and has been translated into more than 30 languages. It was launched with sold-out events in Berlin, London, and Washington, the latter hosted by former US President Barack Obama.
One might wonder whether such a high-profile publishing tour – typically reserved for US presidents rather than former leaders of mid-size powers like Germany – is excessive. After all, the memoirs of former UK Prime Ministers Tony Blair and David Cameron did not attract this level of international attention, nor did those of former French Presidents Nicolas Sarkozy and François Hollande.
Admittedly, at the height of her popularity, Merkel was not only Europe’s most influential politician; after Donald Trump’s victory in the 2016 US presidential election, she was often referred to as the “leader of the free world.” But despite leaving office just three years ago, the world has changed so dramatically that her chancellorship already feels like it belongs to a different era.
For Germany, the past few years have been particularly challenging. An economy toggling between recession and stagnation has exposed the consequences of decades of underinvestment in infrastructure, housing, education, and digitalization. Inflation has eroded wages, exacerbating the housing affordability crisis. And record-high migration inflows have fueled widespread public discontent, enabling both the far right and the far left to make significant electoral gains.
Meanwhile, Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine underscored the failure of Merkel’s repeated efforts to appease Russian President Vladimir Putin. Just days after the invasion, her successor, Olaf Scholz, declared an “epochal shift” (Zeitenwende) in Germany’s defense and foreign policies, particularly toward Russia. In an instant, the world that Merkel helped to shape had vanished.
While many of these developments occurred after Merkel left office, she left Scholz with numerous issues to resolve. By contrast, Merkel benefited greatly from the labor-market reforms introduced by her predecessor, Gerhard Schröder, particularly in the early years of her chancellorship. Though deeply unpopular at the time – and partly responsible for Merkel’s victory in the 2005 election – the so-called Hartz reforms laid the foundation for Germany’s economic turnaround and fiscal consolidation, enabling it to become Europe’s strongest economy by the mid-2010s.
Unlike Schröder, Merkel did not introduce any major reforms of her own, likely because – although necessary – they carried significant political risks. Her tenure was characterized by small, technocratic steps rather than grand ambitions for Germany’s future, much less Europe’s. More manager than a visionary leader, Merkel aligned with the preferences of German voters, who typically shy away from charismatic politicians with bold agendas. As former Chancellor Helmut Schmidt once quipped, “Anyone who has visions should go see a doctor.”
From Crisis to Crisis
To be fair, Merkel spent much of her time in office, starting with the 2007-08 global financial meltdown, in crisis-management mode. In 2011, following the Fukushima nuclear disaster in Japan, she decided to phase out nuclear energy – a controversial decision that introduced significant uncertainty into the German and European energy markets. At the same time, Merkel and then-Finance Minister Wolfgang Schäuble’s handling of the eurozone debt crisis sparked outrage across Europe, especially in Greece, where images of her with a Hitler mustache reflected widespread anger and resentment.
In response to Russia’s illegal 2014 annexation of Crimea, Merkel initiated the Minsk Agreements, which were heavily skewed in Russia’s favor. The following year, she allowed more than one million migrants from the Middle East (mainly Syria), Africa, and Central Asia to enter Germany with minimal scrutiny – a brave humanitarian gesture that also provided fertile ground for the rise of far-right nationalist movements long relegated to the fringes of German politics.
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Then, in 2016, Merkel was tasked with managing the political and economic fallout from the United Kingdom’s Brexit referendum and Trump’s election, both of which represented significant diplomatic challenges during a period of deep uncertainty about the future of the European Union and US-German relations.
To top it all off, her last two years in office were overshadowed by the COVID-19 pandemic. Beyond its public-health impact, the pandemic profoundly affected Germany’s society, economy, and political landscape, with lockdowns and other safety protocols fueling public frustration.
Merkel’s leadership during these crises ended up elevating her domestic and global standing. Germany emerged from the 2008 financial crisis largely unscathed, and her approach to the European sovereign-debt crisis proved effective. Her decision to open Germany’s borders to more than one million refugees, though unpopular nowadays, earned widespread international praise at the time. Merkel also navigated the uncertainties created by Brexit and Trump’s election reasonably well. And, crucially, Germany handled the COVID-19 shock better than most countries.
But Merkel’s legacy has been marred by several major missteps, particularly her misreading of Putin’s expansionist ambitions and her reluctance to push for much-needed domestic reforms. Tellingly, her memoir devotes more attention to Putin than any other foreign leader. She strongly believed that maintaining political, economic, and cultural engagement with the Kremlin and its favorite oligarchs would enable her to build bridges and draw Russia closer to the West.
Consequently, Merkel refrained from measures that could undermine this effort or provoke Putin. For example, she voted against inviting Ukraine and Georgia to apply for NATO membership in 2008 – despite the support of then-US President George W. Bush – and went to great lengths to keep the Minsk Agreements alive. She also kept defense spending well below NATO’s 2%-of-GDP threshold, leaving Germany’s Bundeswehr (armed forces) severely weakened.
Perhaps most damning of all, Merkel championed the Nord Stream 2 pipeline, which was supposed to deliver Russian gas to Germany via the Baltic Sea, bypassing Poland and Ukraine, despite warnings from the United States and other NATO allies that this would make Putin even more dangerous. She defended her decision on economic grounds, arguing that it would lower energy costs and strengthen ties between Germany and Russia.
This raises the question: How could Merkel have been so naive about Putin when she proved to be a shrewd politician in so many other areas? In her memoir, she continues to frame Nord Stream 2 as primarily an economic project. Despite nearly three years of relentless Russian aggression in Ukraine, she remains steadfast in her belief that Wandel durch Handel (change through commerce) was the best approach, insisting that she could neither ignore Russia nor adopt a confrontational approach.
Throughout her 16 years in power, German voters trusted Merkel, admiring her steady, calm persona in the midst of serial crises. Her famous credo, “Wir schaffen das” (“we will manage it”), which she used to great effect at the height of the 2015 migration crisis, became emblematic of her pragmatic, no-nonsense approach to leadership and public messaging.
Her critics, however, focused on Merkel’s tendency to address problems only after they arose, rather than taking steps to prevent them. They pointed to a long list of vital reforms she failed to pursue while in office, ranging from infrastructure and public transport to education, immigration, public administration, domestic security, and digitalization. As a result, Germany was left ill-prepared for future challenges.
No Regrets
By the end of Merkel’s chancellorship, as the world slowly emerged from the pandemic, Germany appeared to be faring surprisingly well. But it soon became clear that German policymakers had been resting on their laurels for far too long. For decades, as the Brookings Institution’s Constanze Stelzenmüller noted, Germany had “outsourced its security to the US, its export-led growth to China, and its energy needs to Russia.” After Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, this strategy revealed itself to be a serious vulnerability.
As it enters the second quarter of the twenty-first century, Germany finds itself in a precarious position. The Merkel era, with its constant crisis management, lack of domestic reforms, and naive foreign policy, gave way to Scholz’s fragmented and contentious “traffic light” coalition, which collapsed last month after failing to correct course. As the February 2025 elections approach, there is deep uncertainty about the country’s ability to overcome its current malaise.
Well aware of the daunting challenges ahead, Merkel devotes the closing chapters of her memoir to potential solutions. Among other things, she proposes reforming the debt brake, a constitutional cap on deficit spending that many analysts blame for Germany’s underinvestment in infrastructure, education, and digital technologies. She also calls for increasing defense spending to more than 2% of GDP.
Although these recommendations are useful, it remains unclear why Merkel changed her mind, especially given that she introduced the debt brake in 2009 and insisted on keeping Germany’s military spending below the 2% target. She neither offers explanations for this about-face, nor expresses regret for her earlier decisions.
In fact, Merkel appears remarkably at peace with her legacy. The decisions she made while in power – including those, like Nord Stream 2, that have been judged harshly in recent years – still seem entirely reasonable to her in retrospect.
Readers hoping for a deeper, critical analysis of Merkel’s chancellorship will be disappointed. There is no mea culpa to be found in the 720 pages of her memoir, nor any acknowledgment that others – for example, successive US administrations – may have been justified in urging Germany to increase its defense spending or in opposing the construction of Nord Stream 2.
As a result, Merkel’s account of her political career reads more like a meticulous office diary than a candid memoir. She recounts countless meetings and events in her trademark factual tone, yet rarely offers telling details or sharp observations that might bring these moments to life and shed light on her decision-making or the numerous leaders with whom she worked over the years. While some memoirs captivate readers with gossip or behind-the-scenes revelations, Merkel’s provides neither.
What Freedom does offer is an illuminating self-portrait. The book’s first section is the most revealing, tracing Merkel’s life between 1954 – when she was born – and the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. Titled “I Wasn’t Born Chancellor,” it explores how Merkel’s upbringing and education influenced her political trajectory, enabling her to become Germany’s first female chancellor and be re-elected three times.
The Two Lives of Angela Merkel
True to form, Merkel opens her prologue with a striking observation: “This book tells a story that will not happen again, because the state I lived in for thirty-five years ceased to exist in 1990.”
Having spent the first 35 years of her life under the East German dictatorship, pursuing a scientific career before she became a politician and a global leader, Merkel’s life has been marked by contrasts. It is this duality that explains why she chose the title Freedom. As she wryly notes, “If it had been offered to a publishing house as a work of fiction, it would have been turned down.”
Merkel was born in Hamburg, but her family soon moved to East Germany, where her father, a Protestant pastor, was offered a position in a small rural parish. While religion was marginalized in East Germany, the state struggled to meet many social needs, prompting the regime to allow religious institutions to provide certain services, albeit temporarily. These included facilities for the disabled and children with learning difficulties, often run by charitable foundations affiliated with the Protestant Church in Berlin-Brandenburg and funded by West German contributions.
One such institution was Waldhof, a relatively large complex surrounded by forests and located 80 kilometers (50 miles) north of Berlin, which also housed the pastoral college where Merkel’s father worked. In this secluded and idyllic setting, Merkel enjoyed a happy and protected childhood. She went on to study physics and later worked for the prestigious Academy of Sciences.
Initially, Merkel avoided overt political activity and did not get involved with dissident or underground opposition groups. It was not until the Berlin Wall fell that she became politically active, motivated by her support for a united Germany. She soon joined the Christian Democratic Union (CDU), where she became then-Chancellor Helmut Kohl’s protégé.
Though Merkel’s upbringing in the sheltered environment of Waldhof was a happy one, she was acutely aware of how fragile that environment was within the context of communist East Germany. This awareness, combined with her rigorous scientific training, instilled in her a strong belief in rationality and fact-based discourse. Together, these experiences shaped her political identity as a grounded leader who consistently relied on reason and evidence to guide her decisions. It was this combination of traits that made her so effective as a crisis manager.
The contrasts that defined Merkel’s life are evident in the book’s epilogue. “What does freedom mean to me?” she asks. “That question has preoccupied me throughout my whole life, on both a personal and a political level.” On one hand, freedom means “finding out where my own boundaries lie, and going to those boundaries.” On the other hand, it is about “not ceasing to learn, not having to stand still, but being able to go on, even after leaving politics.”
The first definition of freedom is rooted in Merkel’s early life: growing up in a sheltered Christian enclave under a dictatorship and rising to become a member of East Germany’s top academic institution. It’s the story of a scientist driven by curiosity, eager to make new discoveries. The second definition captures the arc of her post-1990 life: an audacious outsider from an extinct country who became the leader of one of the world’s largest democracies. Within a few short years, she would oust Kohl – who used to call her Mein Mädchen (“my girl”) – and assume leadership of the CDU.
Above all, it is the story of someone who made the most of what democracy had to offer. Merkel’s rise to the pinnacle of German politics is remarkable not only because of what she calls her “two lives,” but also because of her ability to combine two forms of freedom – that of a scientist and that of a politician – into a distinct leadership philosophy.
Freedom may lack the self-critical analysis some readers might expect, but it provides a revealing glimpse into the mind of a remarkable politician. As a pastor’s daughter in East Germany and an “Easterner” among the West German elite, Merkel has had to overcome deeply ingrained prejudices. These challenges help explain how she endured so long as chancellor.
Still, the big question remains unanswered: How will Merkel’s tenure be remembered? While she will likely be celebrated as an effective manager who steered Germany and Europe through multiple crises, her legacy will be colored by her domestic and foreign-policy failures.
Nevertheless, though she was neither a visionary nor a charismatic leader, Merkel was a perfect fit for Germany at a pivotal moment in its history. In an age of increasingly aggressive, polarizing leaders, her understated style may soon be missed.