Politicians Always Look for Mistakes Everywhere but in Themselves

After every election—here in the West, where we still have free elections despite their imperfections—politicians seem genuinely shocked when they face a defeat. Enclosed in their bubbles and surrounded by yes-men who depend on public funds and live with a „one good day at a time“ mentality, they remain persistently detached from reality. As a result, they are increasingly disillusioned as political parties, sometimes rightfully but often opportunistically labeled as „anti-establishment,“ gain traction.

The main issue I see in modern politics is that the ideal politician has, since the turn of the millennium, devolved into a kind of shapeless gel that can change color, content, and even form based on what pollsters tell them. Such a politician must never express a firm opinion that could be used against them later—in fact, it’s best if they don’t express any opinions at all. When they do speak, it’s in hollow generalities that can later be interpreted however is most convenient. But even this may be too much; the ideal politician of our time is someone who maximizes their appearances in social media videos or stares intently at something in the way North Korean leaders do, documented from every conceivable angle. I see a complete ideological void in politics—not just here, but across the entire Western world. People like Ronald Reagan or Margaret Thatcher, who successfully led their countries through crises, wouldn’t even make it through their own party primaries today.

It’s hard to pinpoint when and where things went wrong. One reason might be the prolonged period of prosperity and peace in Western Europe, though this doesn’t mean I wish for poverty or war. The problem is that the post-WWII prosperity, achieved through hard work and the Marshall Plan, has turned into prosperity funded by future generations through national debt. Britain was one of the first to embrace this unfortunate trend, especially under socialist governance that accelerated it with tragic nationalization of key industries. Predictably, the government, as the worst possible manager, increased employment but at the cost of stagnation in what had once been a strong export industry. The Labour government under Clement Attlee responded by injecting borrowed and taxed money into the economy, but to no avail. France followed suit, funding its welfare state at the cost of future generations’ debt, and by the 1970s, most key countries in the European Economic Community had joined in. But I digress into economics, which is necessary since this approach eventually paved the way for populist politicians, who didn’t even pretend to care about anything other than obtaining and keeping power.

One of the first to grasp that it wasn’t about ideas anymore, but about saying what people wanted to hear, was Tony Blair, who won the 1997 general election. Yes, the Conservatives, after 18 uninterrupted years in power, were exhausted, empty, and John Major had about as much charisma as Ursula von der Leyen. However, Blair managed to strip Labour of its overtly socialist image, and his freshness, youth, and media skills won him the election, setting the populist path in Western European politics. The most prominent symbol of this trend remains Angela Merkel, who took office as chancellor under the conservative CDU, but by 2021, she was leaving office having implemented policies even the Green and radical leftists couldn’t have dreamed of. Her successor, Olaf Scholz of the SPD, won on a platform promising to govern just like his predecessor Merkel from the CDU, effectively from the opposite side of the political spectrum.

Another thing worth noting about these „ideologically flexible“ politicians is their uncanny ability to eliminate any internal competition that might threaten them. This ultimately leads to the rise of weak leaders who simply nod in agreement with everything the party leader says and does, and to the inevitable decline of entire parties when, by unfortunate coincidence, these weak leaders end up in charge. Take, for example, Angela Merkel in Germany. She managed to sideline genuinely strong conservative figures like Friedrich Merz, Jens Spahn, Karl-Theodor zu Guttenberg, and even Horst Seehofer from the CSU. In their place, she promoted Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer, known as AKK, who only became known when Merkel helped her secure the CDU chair in 2018, only for her to step down after barely two years due to dismal performance.

After this brief historical overview, let me get to what truly concerns me: the inability of political elites to grasp the reality around them and their tendency to talk their way around problems instead of solving them—or, more often, hoping the problems will solve themselves, allowing them and their allies to hold onto power for another day. The issue is that this approach might have worked in „good times“ but will not work when we face threats from an aggressive Russia, an increasingly assertive China, and waves of “new Europeans” who, while enjoying the benefits of Western democracy, loathe it and want to return us to the Middle Ages. The time has passed when mainstream parties could keep saying, „Vote for us; we’ll always find a compromise,“ because it was enough to prevent extremists from gaining power. Old political parties with long-standing traditions have emptied themselves ideologically, and what was once acceptable is now unacceptable. To our great misfortune, they are oblivious to this and continue blaming voters instead of looking within.

Let me offer another example from Germany. After the ruling parties took a beating in Thuringia, Saxony, and barely scraped a win in Brandenburg—where the SPD didn’t even invite their leader to any campaign events—the response was predictable. Politicians and “talking heads” kept repeating, “Well, you know, these are East German voters, they’re just different, maybe even extremists, but it’ll be better next time.” But it won’t. Although Europe remains one of the best places to live, people no longer feel this way. No matter who I speak with in Germany, whether from different social classes or previously distinct political leanings, the topics are the same. They are deeply concerned about mass migration, which is changing the country’s security landscape daily. They are frustrated with an energy and industrial policy that defies physical laws and predictably hit a wall. The level of depression and pessimism is unprecedented, and I dread where Germany will go from here. Germans are a rational people with a strong sense of organization, order, and technical expertise. However, once they commit to an idea, however misguided, they pursue it relentlessly, even if it means Germany ends in ruins—and this time, the damage could extend far beyond Germany.

In political science, there is a term called the „Horseshoe Theory,“ which suggests that the extreme right and extreme left, though seemingly opposed, actually share many similarities in governance concepts and views on public affairs. From what I have observed in recent years on the European political scene, it seems that the middle of the horseshoe is emptying. Once-centrist parties are adopting ideas once reserved for extremists, and extremists are pushing further, turning the horseshoe into a closed circle.

I apologize for returning to Germany, but it’s the European country I know best and visit most often. After the conservative CDU adopted extreme Green policies like shutting down nuclear plants and adoring Greta Thunberg, and the SPD tried to keep up by becoming even more fiscally generous, a space opened up for new movements. On one end of the horseshoe, we have Sahra Wagenknecht’s BSW—a charismatic, hard-working, but extremely left-leaning politician who openly supports the Russian dictator’s worldview. On the other end is the AfD, which is no longer a respectable party of academics and economists, but an entity increasingly aligned with Wagenknecht from the opposite side of the spectrum.

Finally, I would hate for my reflections to be seen as a criticism of Germany. The same detachment from reality pervades elites across Europe, not just within the EU. Britain, which has fared poorly since Brexit, diverts attention from real problems. One major Brexit campaign point was to rid the country of foreigners, yet the Rotherham horror story, where Pakistani gangs abused over 1,400 girls between 1997 and 2013 while authorities feared accusations of racism, was ignored. Yet, portraying Poles and Czechs as job-stealing immigrants remains socially acceptable and won’t draw charges of racism. The consequence is widespread “white flight,” a trend seen across founding EU nations.

But forget the politicians—those who remain at the helm long enough, distanced from their voters except during campaigns, will find a way to retire safely with a pension. The real problem is their legacy, and it’s up to the rest of us to confront it. Now, more than ever, we must communicate with politicians, giving them clear feedback so they hear and understand what real life looks like. Because if they don’t, and soon, others will take their place, and those others won’t mince words. So please, don’t avoid your politicians; seek them out, speak to them, challenge them. There is still a small chance to avoid historical parallels that don’t promise much optimism for the future.