A trio of political bets and frictions defines the current scene: Merz has placed Jens Spahn in a position meant to bind the Union more firmly to its chosen path, while doubts persist about whether Spahn is truly aligned with Merz or pursuing his own ascent. Spahn’s rise is described as a stepping stone to higher office, and even voices within the CSU speak to his adaptability and loyalty, yet observers worry about where his true loyalties lie once the glare of power intensifies. The task before him—coordinating a black-red coalition—has exposed the fragility of internal cohesion after roughly a hundred days, with majorities proving difficult to marshal not only within the CDU/CSU but also from the SPD. His approach to the AfD—at once combative and willing to treat it as ordinary opposition—has stirred discontent within the SPD, heightening the sense that the coalition’s consensus is brittle.

Complications mount over the summer with the Maskenaffäre from the pandemic era, where Spahn sits at the center of procurement questions. He maintains a clean conscience, attributing scrutiny to crisis conditions, while the Greens say his explanations only deepen suspicion. In July the effort to secure a majority for Frauke Brosius-Gersdorf as a constitutional judge fails, drawing sharp rebukes from the Greens and other quarters and eroding coalition trust, with SPD leaders publicly acknowledging the damage. By August, Merz gauges how far Spahn can advance his broader program; Spahn characterizes discussion about limiting weapons deliveries to Israel as only “acceptable,” yet concedes there are internal headwinds, insisting the priority is solving his own problems before delivering for Merz. In short, Merz cannot yet rely on him with full confidence until demonstrable deliverables are achieved.

Spahn’s trajectory thus becomes a litmus test for the entire project: a political order predicated on compromise and credible commitments is exposed to the friction of personal ambition, crisis-era scandals, and the inherent difficulty of reconciling divergent aims. The episode reads less as a simple personnel drama than as a caution about the conditions under which a stable, rules-based order can endure within a pluralist democracy. If there is a truth here, it is that a coalition built on shifting majorities and strategic concessions is always in danger of dissolving the very trust it requires to govern.

What is at stake, and what the moment reveals with bitter clarity, is the paradox at the heart of political life in a complex society: decision-making requires coordination across diverse interests, yet the very power to coordinate concentrates in the hands of a few actors who must be held to account. The impulse to treat governance as a project of leadership charisma, or as a battlefield where loyalties are measured by the next press release, is precisely the impulse that undermines durable order. It is not merely a question of who can win a vote today, but whether the institutions and norms—legal safeguards, predictable procedures, checks and balances—that enable peaceful, productive cooperation can withstand the strain of crisis, suspicion, and personal ambition.

In this light, Spahn’s stubborn insistence on solving his own problems before delivering for Merz reads as a symptom of a deeper misalignment: the idea that a robust order can be built by raw effort and political dexterity alone, rather than by a steadfast adherence to the constitutional framework and to a distributed, impersonal system of incentives. The debates over the AfD, the Maskenaffäre, and the appointment of a constitutional judge all point to a common denominator: when accountability is tethered to factional success rather than to principles, the long arc of liberty and institutional competence bends toward fracture.

Suppose one seeks a remedy grounded in the very prudence that once sustained open societies under pressure: reinforce the rule of law, insist on transparent processes, and require that major policy shifts be justified within a framework that transcends personal careers. Demand that coalitions demonstrate not merely the ability to muster a majority, but the capacity to sustain it through principled compromises that respect minority rights and long-run institutional health. Encourage leaders to embrace the possibility that disagreement is not a betrayal of the common good but a vital safeguard against the fatal conceit of central planners of politics. Let the standard be not who can win the next round, but who can plausibly secure the conditions for a stable, dynamic order in which agents—citizens, businesses, and communities—can adjust, innovate, and prosper under a system of well-understood rules.

Ultimately, the course forward must not hinge on the temperament or the personal success of any one figure, however capable. It must rest on the enduring architecture of a free order: a government that governs least in the domains where knowledge is dispersed and situational, and a society that respects the limits of political calculation while cultivating the institutions that enable coordinated action without coercive central planning. If Merz and Spahn wish to supply a lasting answer to the demands of the moment, they must anchor their collaboration not in the promise of victories over insiders and rivals, but in a shared commitment to predictable rules, accountable leadership, and the patient work by which a pluralist polity earns the confidence of its citizens. Only then can the coalition hope to deliver not mere expedients, but a durable framework within which freedom, prosperity, and stability can endure amid the inevitable trials of a restless world.