Curated by Kristóf Szombati and Ece Özbey
Germany’s latest parliamentary elections mark more than just a change in government — they signal a potential turning point for the country’s economy, multicultural identity, and political landscape. As the European Union’s largest and most influential member grapples with mounting domestic and global pressures, the decisions made in the coming years will not only define Germany’s trajectory but also reverberate across Europe and beyond.
This mini-series brings together leading scholars working in and on Germany to offer their insights into the key questions arising from this pivotal moment of transition. Through a multi-angled, interdisciplinary discussion, it examines the political, economic, and social forces driving change and shaping the country’s and the broader region’s future.
In this second edition, our contributors examine the shifting dynamics of integration and diversity in Germany.
You can also explore other contributions to this mini-series:
📌 Read our editor Kristóf Szombati’s analysis of the election outcome and the challenges the incoming government will have to face.
📌 Check out the expert insights on Germany’s socio-economic model in transition.
Germany’s approach to migration and multiculturalism has been a defining feature of its post-war political identity — oscillating between efforts to integrate newcomers and persistent anxieties over social cohesion. Since the so-called “Refugee Crisis” in 2015, these tensions have only deepened. While demographic trends and economic needs make continued migration essential, public backlash has fueled growing polarization and the rise of far-right populism.
The 2025 elections have brought these dynamics to a critical juncture, revealing a sharp turn in political discourse on migration, integration, and national identity. Against this backdrop, we asked two experts to reflect on how Germany’s multicultural project is evolving. The specific question we formulated was:
Have the 2025 elections marked a shift away from a focus on multicultural coexistence toward an emphasis on a German Leitkultur — and if so, how might this reshape official policy and public discourse regarding cultural differences?
A shared theme across both contributions is the diagnosis of a profound crisis of multiculturalism, marked by the erosion of earlier integrationist ideals and the virulent spread of exclusionary rhetoric. Both authors emphasize that political discourse has shifted away from embracing diversity to casting migration primarily as a source of societal tension.
Yet, their emphases differ. Steven Vertovec traces how Leitkultur has been gradually transformed from a civic tool of cultural negotiation into an engine of exclusion. Moreover, he points out the profound disconnect between Germany’s structural dependence on migration and a political imaginary that increasingly frames migration as a threat. Stefan Auer, in turn, highlights the political backlash to Merkel’s 2015 Willkommenskultur and argues that Germany is experiencing an identity crisis rooted in the dilution of its Leitkultur, which he sees as necessary for sustaining social cohesion.
Their views also differ on border regimes. Vertovec sees the dominance of a securitization logic, focused on sealing the country’s external borders and removing criminalized foreign bodies, as a force pushing national identity in an exclusionary direction. Auer, on the other hand, argues that controlling borders is not primarily about exclusion but rather about creating the necessary conditions for restoring public confidence and enabling more inclusive policies.
These contributions offer a sobering but nuanced view: Germany’s multicultural model is not on the verge of collapse, but it is deeply unsettled. While sectarian strife is not looming on the horizon, the authors imply that values such as openness, tolerance, and solidarity — though under pressure — remain available as resources for rebuilding a more inclusive vision of coexistence. Whether such a vision can be revived will depend on political leaders’ ability to reconcile public anxieties around immigration and find a way to sustain social cohesion.
Prof. Dr. Steven Vertovec
The concept of Leitkultur (“leading culture”) has long been a pivotal lens through which Germany has interrogated its complex relationship with migration and national identity. However, the 2025 national elections reveal a profound transformation in this discourse, marked by a striking shift from cultural integration to a rhetoric of exclusion and border control.
Originally conceptualized in the late 1990s, Leitkultur emerged as a nuanced framework for societal cohesion, as elaborated by sociologist Bassam Tibi. It initially proposed a set of civic-democratic values intended to facilitate meaningful integration. The concept was never monolithic but inherently dialogic — a proposed cultural grammar through which diverse social actors might negotiate belonging.
Yet, over time, Leitkultur metamorphosed from a dynamic integration model to a more rigid assimilationist construct. Initially meant to promote shared civil codes, values, and practices which all members of society — not least new immigrants — could follow to foster social cohesion, it has gradually become a byword not for societal integration and civic virtues but for adherence to “national cultural values” and moral belonging. Friedrich Merz’s interventions, particularly his 2000 pronouncement demanding immigrant adaptation, crystallized this shift. The discussion increasingly became less about mutual cultural negotiation and more about enforced cultural conformity, often contrasting the idea of a German Leitkultur with British-style multiculturalism, the former implying a single, dominant cultural narrative while the latter emphasizing the coexistence of diverse identities.
Paradoxically, the 2025 elections marked not an elaboration but an effective abandonment of the Leitkultur concept. Given that Merz was a key player in the electoral race, it was somewhat surprising that Leitkultur did not feature prominently in the political campaigns and debates. Instead of “integration,” the political rhetoric focused overwhelmingly on “exclusion.” This shift was underscored by the dominance of topics such as border control, strategies for dealing with “illegal migration” (a frustratingly misleading notion frustratingly parroted by much of the mainstream media), and deportation policies.
This discursive transformation is deeply consequential. It represents a move from viewing migrants (albeit in assimilationist terms) as people who could potentially become full-fledged and valuable members of German society to framing them primarily as potential threats to the national community.
What remains conspicuously absent from the political narrative is Germany’s structural dependence on migration. Despite rhetorical efforts to construct impermeable borders, the economic reality is unequivocal: Germany requires migrants to replenish its ageing workforce, maintain the tax base, and ensure the viability of the pension system. The political debate thus reveals a profound disconnection between economic necessities and political imaginaries.
The violent attacks in Magdeburg and Aschaffenburg were, of course, partly to blame for this shift. These events heightened public fears and compelled Merz to introduce a “five-point plan” on migration. The proposed measures were premised on the assumption that stopping current and future migration — further assumed to be mainly, if not exclusively, “illegal” — could prevent such attacks. Removing “foreign bodies” from the German population was presented as the necessary corrective to random acts of violence — an assumption almost immediately countered by another high-profile attack in Mannheim, committed this time by a German national.
The “Fortress Germany” model that became cemented in the 2025 election campaign represents more than a migration policy. It is a profound social imaginary that seeks to reconstruct national identity through exclusion. This approach is not only ethically problematic but also economically self-defeating.
True social resilience emerges not from fortification but from adaptive, dialogic processes of cultural becoming. The very notion of a fixed, immutable “leading culture” contradicts the dynamic, continuously negotiated nature of social identities in a globalized world. The 2025 German election debates surrounding migration reveal more about contemporary anxieties than actual realities. It illustrates how political rhetoric can transform complex sociological concepts into instruments of exclusion — obscuring the fundamental interdependence that characterizes modern societies.
Steven Vertovec is the Founding Director of the Max-Planck Institute for the Study of Religious and Ethnic Diversity in Göttingen. He is an Honorary Joint Professor of Sociology and Ethnology at the University of Göttingen, and a Supernumerary Fellow at Linacre College, Oxford. Contact: vertovec@mmg.mpg.de.
Prof. Dr. Stefan Auer
German multiculturalism “has failed, utterly failed,” Angela Merkel said in 2010. The irony is that Merkel contributed to this failure more than any other German chancellor in recent history — not with words but with deeds. Her assertion at the time echoed the concerns of her coalition partner, Horst Seehofer, who advocated stricter controls on migration based on his assessment of “Germany’s limited ability to absorb newcomers.” Yet in the late summer of 2015, Merkel made an abrupt U-turn, openly and proudly proclaiming that Germany could manage the intake of hundreds of thousands of refugees fleeing the civil war in Syria and other troubled regions. Suspending the EU Dublin regulations that require refugees to seek protection in the first country of entry, the government she led embraced the challenge of welcoming thousands of newcomers. “Wir schaffen das.” (“We will manage it.”), Merkel declared, arguing that a country as rich and populous as Germany could accommodate the sudden influx of refugees. This was the famed Willkommenskultur, the “welcome culture” that strengthened the image and attraction of Germany as a country of migration. Partly as a result of this bold policy change, a million refugees arrived in less than a year.
Ten years later, we can safely say that Germany has not “managed it.” The more welcoming the government’s policy was towards migrants, the greater the backlash — resulting in significantly strengthened popularity for the Alternative for Germany (AfD). At the most recent elections, the right-wing populist party doubled its support and now holds more than 20% of the seats in the Bundestag. In fact, the relative success of the Christian Democratic Party (CDU) in the 2025 elections was arguably achieved through Chancellor candidate Friedrich Merz’s disavowal of Merkel’s legacy, most notably his promise to introduce stricter border controls and expel asylum-seekers whose applications have been rejected.
Still, Germany — and Europe at large — need migrants. European societies must find ways to sustain support for newcomers for decades to come. The experience of countries of migration, such as Australia, shows that there is a troubling relationship between public acceptance of migration and the (perceived) porousness of borders. Electorates are more likely to support migration when they believe their government remains in control of migration flows. Controlling borders is thus not primarily about seeking exclusion but rather about creating the necessary conditions for inclusive policies that enjoy broad societal support. Hence, multiculturalism as an ideal and lived practice could and should be revived — but only if Merz fulfills his pledge to regain control over irregular migration. The chance of that happening is slim, particularly considering the well-established position of the CDU’s likely junior coalition partner, the Social Democrats (SPD), on this issue.
Finally, multiculturalism as pursued by Merkel and her successor, Olaf Scholz, has significantly undermined social cohesion. This makes the most pertinent challenge of our times seemingly insurmountable: How can a post-national Germany defend itself? If the unique accomplishment of contemporary German political culture is that Germans are proud of not being proud of their nation, why should anyone make sacrifices — including the ultimate one of risking their life — for a nation whose membership is meant to be shameful? Philosopher Hans-Georg Moeller described this phenomenon pithily as “guilt pride.” Germans will need to overcome this if they are to put themselves in a position to welcome refugees with greater ease and confidence and defend their own way of life, including their political system. Willkommenskultur needs Leitkultur. In other words, a nation is more likely to remain open to newcomers when its members are confident about their own culture and trust that their government is truly in charge of migration.
Stefan Auer is a Professor of European Studies at the School of Modern Languages and Cultures at the University of Hong Kong. Contact: stefauer@hku.hk.
