Germany's electorate has emerged as Europe's most sceptical towards China, marking a significant departure from the country's traditionally pragmatic stance towards Beijing. In a sweeping survey across 13 European nations, 49 per cent of German respondents characterised China as either a rival or an adversary—substantially higher than France's 43 per cent, the next most hawkish nation polled. This sentiment represents a notable realignment of public opinion that could reshape Germany's approach to contentious trade matters within the European Union.
The deterioration in German perceptions of China reflects tangible economic hardship across the manufacturing heartland. Between 2019 and 2025, Germany's manufacturing sector shed approximately 420,000 positions, with monthly losses persisting at around 10,000 jobs. The automotive industry has borne the brunt of this contraction, facing intensifying pressure from Chinese competitors who have consolidated dominance in domestic markets and expanded aggressively internationally. This economic squeeze has transformed China from a distant geopolitical concern into an immediate threat to livelihoods and industrial capacity.
Despite this evident public anxiety, Berlin has historically resisted stricter trade measures against China. During 2024's contentious EU vote on anti-subsidy tariffs targeting Chinese electric vehicles, Germany notably abstained from supporting the bloc's unified position—a stance reflecting the government's internal divisions over China strategy. Economy Minister Katherina Reiche, herself a member of Chancellor Friedrich Merz's Christian Democratic Union, has reportedly emerged as the cabinet's most reluctant advocate for confrontational measures, illustrating how competing interests continue to complicate policy formation even as economic pain accumulates.
The European Council on Foreign Relations report presenting these findings carries particular weight because it challenges assumptions that German voters would punish their government for adopting tougher China policies. The data reveals that 60 per cent of supporters from both Merz's Christian Democrats and the centre-left Social Democrats view China as adversarial, suggesting substantial political room for a policy shift without courting electoral backlash. This democratic permission stands in stark contrast to Berlin's historical reluctance, wherein powerful business lobbies succeeded in constraining governmental action through appeals to economic pragmatism and trade openness.
Interestingly, the political extremes in Germany occupy opposing positions on China. The far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD), which has surged in polling ahead of provisional elections this year, displays the most favourable disposition towards Beijing. Within the AfD's base, 45 per cent characterise China as a necessary partner, with only 31 per cent viewing it as a rival and 8 per cent as an adversary. By contrast, the Left party similarly tilts towards partnership frameworks, suggesting that mainstream centrist and centre-left parties have staked out tougher ground than both the far-right and left-wing challengers to the established order.
The centre-left Social Democrats present a particularly striking case study. Historically, European social democratic parties have advocated more accommodative approaches towards Beijing, often emphasising dialogue and commercial engagement over protectionism. Yet German Social Democrats have departed from this continental pattern, with 60 per cent characterising China as adversarial. This realignment suggests that localised economic devastation can override traditional ideological commitments when manufacturing constituencies face existential threats. Only 38 per cent of the broader German population maintains positive views of China as a partner or ally, compared with 65 per cent of Spaniards and 62 per cent of Bulgarians—a disparity that underscores Germany's unique vulnerability to Chinese industrial competition.
Corporate behaviour offers additional evidence that Germany's China approach is shifting beneath the surface of official policy. Last month, Volkswagen's chief executive publicly reversed the company's long-standing opposition to EU tariffs on Chinese plug-in hybrid vehicles, marking a watershed moment in German industry's relationship with trade defence mechanisms. The executive praised the very duties that Volkswagen had vociferously contested merely months earlier, signalling that the perceived competitive threat has intensified to the point where traditional lobbying strategies no longer suffice. According to analysts at Rhodium Group specialising in German China policy, this represents uncharted territory for Germany's largest carmakers, as the default posture of the past decades—persuading Berlin and Brussels to maintain passivity—has become untenable.
The timing of this reorientation carries significance for broader European strategic autonomy debates. For years, Germany's economic ties to China and its preference for commercial integration over geopolitical competition have constrained EU-wide initiatives towards Beijing. German resistance to coordinated trade measures, technology restrictions, and supply-chain diversification initiatives has often complicated Brussels' efforts to articulate a unified response to Chinese state subsidies and industrial policy. A fundamental shift in German public opinion and emerging cracks in the business consensus could unlock political possibilities that have remained frozen throughout the 2020s.
For Southeast Asian nations and other trading partners, Germany's repositioning carries strategic implications. A more assertive Berlin within EU deliberations might accelerate European moves towards protectionism or industrial policy interventions that reshape global supply chains. Countries already navigating complex relationships with both China and Western markets may face pressure to choose sides more explicitly as European protectionism intensifies. Simultaneously, the German experience demonstrates that economic pain concentrates political will for change—a lesson relevant across the region as nations wrestle with their own China strategies.
The survey findings suggest that German policymakers retain flexibility to implement tougher measures without fearing significant electoral punishment. Chancellor Merz's government, assuming it can bridge internal cabinet divisions, possesses public permission to pursue measures that would have been politically fraught merely years earlier. Whether Berlin will seize this opportunity remains uncertain, but the convergence of public opinion, corporate repositioning, and manufacturing crisis creates conditions distinctly more favourable to a China-focused reassessment than any point in recent German political history.
