“Historic moment”, “game changer” and “epic announcement” were among the hyperbolic media headlines that greeted the decision by Germany’s Bundestag to change the constitution, in order to suspend the Debt Brake (Schuldenbremse) and enable hundreds of billions of euros to be spent on a variety of policies, one of which is defence.
In Britain, that was the aspect of this new departure that was most canvassed (“Germany rearms – Rejoice! Rejoice!”). It would be delusory, however, to imagine that defence was the sole, or even principal, beneficiary of this abandonment of German fiscal continence. Nor should the fact that Germany, belatedly and allegedly (only time will show the eventual outcome), is shouldering its share of European defence be allowed to obscure the decidedly murky circumstances in which the necessary constitutional amendment was voted through.
Germany held federal elections on 23 February which unseated the Social Democrat party of Olaf Scholz, in favour of the Christian Democrats led by Friedrich Merz, with the AfD, which doubled its vote, in second place. Two days later, on 25 February, the incoming chancellor Merz ruled out any quick change to Germany’s constitutional block on state indebtedness, known as the “Debt Brake”, and said it was too early to say whether the outgoing parliament could wave through a massive military spending boost.
Three weeks later, to the day, Merz and his colleagues put legislation through the Bundestag, suspending the Debt Brake for certain fiscal expenditures, by effecting a constitutional change through a vote with a two-thirds majority. So, you might think, Chancellor-in-waiting Merz has a two-thirds majority in the Bundestag: he must really command the confidence of the German public. Er – up to a point, Lord Copper. It all depends to which Bundestag you are referring: is it this Tuesday’s outgoing Bundestag or next Tuesday’s incoming parliament?
For the German lower chamber that passed this constitutional amendment was not the recently elected legislature, with its fresh mandate from the electorate, but the old, pre-election chamber, including parties that have been humiliated at the recent polls and individuals who have lost their seats, specially reconvened for this purpose.
In Britain, when a general election is called, Parliament remains in session just long enough to tie up loose ends of important business and legislation, before being dissolved, three weeks before polling day. On the Monday following an election (traditionally held on a Thursday), the newly elected MPs begin to assemble at Westminster and a new parliament is formed. Throughout the election campaign the Government remains in office, to ensure administrative continuity, but, due to the absence of Parliament, it cannot pass any legislation.
That is because it has no mandate to do so. In British constitutional law, it is thought improper for Parliament to remain sitting during an election campaign, so that MPs cease to be so as soon as Parliament is dissolved. The idea that it would continue in session, passing laws, during an election campaign, is inadmissible. Even more so would be the bizarre idea that it should continue to sit after an election, when many of its members had already been rejected by the voters. But, most bizarre of all, the notion that such an assembly, full of electoral rejects, should be permitted to pass – of all things – an amendment to the constitution, to anyone espousing democratic principles, beggars belief.
Regardless of how welcome it might be to see Germany finally stepping up to the plate to pay its fair share of European defence, that should not distract us from the undemocratic and disreputable means by which this end was achieved. Why are European nations suddenly rushing to rearm themselves? Because America has withdrawn its decades-long security umbrella and defence must be boosted “to defend democracy”. In Berlin, democracy is defended, in the first instance, by making a travesty of parliamentary government.