1 Germany, Russia, and the War in Ukraine—Foreign Policy in Times of Nuclear Threats

German Chancellor Olaf Scholz (Social Democratic Party of Germany [SPD]) has called February 24, 2022, an “epochal tectonic shift” and branded the Russian invasion a “Zeitenwende,” not only in his speech a few days later (Scholz 2022a, p. 8065), but also in Foreign Affairs (Scholz 2023a). The term Zeitenwende refers to (world) political and historical events perceived as transformative change or “crisis” in the sense that established and routinized patterns of actions seem to be no longer working, suitable, or appropriate. The fall of the Berlin Wall and the terrorist attacks of 9/11 were often characterized as Zeitenwende since they marked such turning points in world history (Karmann et al. 2016).

Today’s Zeitenwende has a long foreshadowing and unfolds in light of Russia’s threats to use even nuclear weapons (Fröhlich 2023; Bunde 2022; Mello 2024). As no one knows how credible these threats are, the relations between Ukraine and NATO states with Russia have entered unchartered waters, and even 2 years after the invasion, Putin reiterated his nuclear threats.Footnote 1

1.1 Research Question: How Are German Weapon Deliveries to Ukraine (De)legitimized?

These threats have already been highly influential, irrespective of their credibility. Germany, for example, hesitated to support heavy weapons for a long time and abstained from supplying air power and other further-reaching weapon systems such as the Taurus, although the Ukrainian government has desperately requested them. However, there is a deep rift in the German public on the question of whether Ukraine should get weapons at all.

Shortly after Russia invaded Ukraine, many peace activists, politicians, researchers, and public intellectuals frequently expressed their anxiety and fears of being dragged into the war (Höltmann et al. 2022). Some initiated public letters and protest marches accusing Western governments of prolonging the war for their interest, nurturing Russia’s aggressiveness by handling the situation irresponsibly and launching incautious moves that might end up in a “nuclear apocalypse.”Footnote 2 Some others argued quite the opposite: Only weapon deliveries would force Russia to give in and come back to the negotiation table, and denying Ukraine military support would foster Putin’s hunger and imperialist obsessions. Fears of a “nuclear Armageddon” were denounced as “hysteria,” only playing into Putin’s rationale.Footnote 3

Also, the public at large is deeply concerned and divided on whether and how to support Ukraine without risking nuclear escalation. Current polls show the issue is still prevalent even 2 years into the war. The Statista Research Department 2024 on German support to Ukraine revealed that about 40% of the German public thinks that German military support is “too much,” while 41% regard military support as “proportionate.” Only 21% of the respondents think the current military support is “insufficient.”Footnote 4

Regarding the public contestation and uncertainty in Germany about the war, the question arises of how it was discursively made possible that Germany supported Ukraine militarily. Drawing on a discourse analytical approach, the main research question in this article is more precise: How were weapon deliveries to Ukraine (de)legitimized in the German parliament? The analytical part draws on debates on the subject matter in the German Bundestag from December 2021 to January 2023.

1.2 Main Findings

The (de)legitimation of such a decision is inseparable from concepts and understandings of foreign policy identities (Hopf 2005; Hansen 2013 (2006); Campbell 1992). Hence, this discourse analysis examines in more detail how members of the parliament, leading representatives of governmental and opposition parties alike, mobilized and resembled a repertoire of different and well-established narrative identities constitutive of German foreign policy to justify their position on the subject matter: “pacifism,” “civilian power,” “shaping power,” “feminist foreign policy,” “trading power,” “militarism,” and “ethnonationalism.”

The analysis reveals that the discursive “othering” of Putin, as the one who has unleashed an “illegal war,” was by no means sufficient to justify and enable weapon deliveries unequivocally. Some proponents of military support from the Free Democratic Party (FDP) and the Green party invoked the identity narrative of Germany as a “shaping power” that should take a leading position of the new European “we.” Weapon deliveries were legitimized through the discursive construction of a European “we-ness” now including the Ukrainian people as a defining part of the Western “self,” spearheading the fight against the totalitarian Russian “other” and defending freedom and democracy in Europe.

In contrast, weapon deliveries were heavily delegitimized by representatives of opposition parties such as the Alternative für Deutschland (Alternative for Germany [AfD]) and Die Linke (The Left). On the one hand, the illegitimacy of weapon deliveries was stressed by those who implicitly questioned Ukraine’s right to self-defense. Referring to ethnonationalism, representatives of AfD in particular argued that Russia had a historically founded “claim” to consider its Western territories as “natural spheres of influence,” as they had once been part of the Tsarist and Soviet empires. Whether the West liked it or not, Russian “entitlements” had to be respected. Moreover, weapon deliveries to Ukraine would ruin the economic relations with Russia to the disadvantage of the German people, and Germany would lose its influence as an “honest broker,” betraying its pacifist tradition in foreign policy. Referring to the identity narrative of Germany as a “trading power” and claiming a “radical pacifism” at the same time, representatives of the AfD assembled fragments and slogans of various narrative identities to delegitimize weapon deliveries. As they simultaneously expressed disrespect for international norms by mobilizing ethnonationalist ideas, a new narrative identity capitalizing on populist sentiments emerged in the German foreign policy discourse. Representatives of Die Linke essentially referred to moderate pacifism and the antimilitarist consensus to delegitimize weapon deliveries.

A significant change in the legitimation of weapon deliveries was observable in Chancellor Scholz’s (SPD) position. He justified weapon deliveries after the outbreak of the war through his “Zeitenwende” speech, implying a tough stance on Russian aggression and referring to the identity narrative of Germany as a “shaping power.” Nevertheless, some weeks into the war, the chancellor and other representatives of the SPD faction distanced themselves from such an offensive position. They retreated to the narrative identity of a “civilian power” and a “culture of restraint,” reminding the public that German foreign policy had already broken basic principles by delivering weapons at all and that such military support was the ultima ratio. Scholz legitimized weapon deliveries by cautiously and hesitantly claiming that Russia must “not win” and Germany, under all circumstances, must “stay out of this war.” However, Scholz finally approved the delivery of the Leopard 2 tank as an ultima ratio, invoking the principles of a “civilian power” identity.

The following section outlines the theoretical core assumptions of the discourse that structure the analysis connecting to ongoing debates on the value of constructivist and poststructuralist perspectives in foreign policy analysis. The paper ventures deeper into research and policy literature to unpack the previously mentioned narrative identities constituting German foreign policy. The last part reconstructs the parliamentary debates on weapon deliveries, analyzing how this repertoire of narrative identities has been mobilized and reconfigured to (de)legitimize Ukraine’s military support in times of “Zeitenwende.”

2 Discourse Theory and Foreign Policy Analysis

2.1 Discourse Approaches and the “Zeitenwende” in German Foreign Policy Research

In research on German foreign policy, discourse analytical approaches have been used in various forms. In a seminal work, Baumann (2005) drew on discourse analysis to reconstruct changes in the use of the concept of “multilateralism” and its legitimating power in German foreign policy. Nabers (2005) analyzed German participation in the war on terror from a poststructuralist perspective, and Stahl (2012) used the concept of identity-bound discourse theory to investigate German abstention in the vote on Libya. Stengel (2020) and Nonhoff and Stengel (2014) referred to discursive hegemony, drawing on Laclau and Mouffe to understand the differences in German foreign policy regarding military engagement in Iraq and Afghanistan. Most recently, Dück and Stahl (2023) analyzed the shifts in German foreign policy regarding the Ukraine war, drawing on identity-bound discourse theory.

More recently, Eberle and Handl (2020) analyzed the German discourse on Russia’s intervention in Georgia (2008) and Ukraine (2014) from an ontological security perspective to show how the civilian power narrative prevailed in German foreign policy. Although a well-established and productive field of research on German foreign policy in general and on the “Zeitenwende” in particular exists (Bachg and Peters 2023), the legitimation of military support to Ukraine in the German parliament has not been addressed yet from a discourse analytical perspective (Blumenau 2022; Brzoska 2022; Bunde 2022; Mello 2024; Fröhlich 2023; Mader and Schoen 2023). This contribution joins the evolving literature on German foreign policy in times of a “Zeitenwende,” providing a detailed analysis of the parliamentarian discourse on weapon deliveries to Ukraine and the reconfigurations of narrative identities in German foreign policy.

2.2 Core Assumptions of Discourse Analysis in Foreign Policy Research

In general terms, discourses are systems of signification in which meaning is assigned and produced. Discursive articulations are intertextually related and hierarchically ordered, as not every statement and articulation is treated likewise (Milliken 1999, pp. 229, 231). Hence, discourses regulate the formation and hierarchy among and between all (public) statements referring to a specific trope, topic, or event. Accordingly, discourse analytical approaches are based on the assumption that discourses should not be understood as mere “debates” about social and political circumstances. Discourses are performative processes of a generation of meaning and are inextricably intertwined with the phenomena they refer to (Dunn and Neumann 2016; Stengel 2020; Nabers 2015).

Societal or political discourses are processes by which, for example, contemporary or historical events are socially constructed through principally contingent attributions of meaning, whereby different interpretations of reality are hierarchically ordered and subject to discursive processes of negotiation and contestation. Whether Russia’s move on Ukraine’s territory is considered an “invasion” (a word used above without any further reflection, as if this specific reading of the events is consensual) or an act of “self-defense” is already the result of discursive processes—regardless of how obvious we might think the issue is. These significations, in turn, contribute to the conditions that enable and constrain what can be meaningfully said and done or/and what might be considered as legitimate and justifiable political action in response to a political event that is discursively framed in one way or another. Discourse analysis is mainly used to understand how political events, actors, and circumstances are discursively interpreted and constructed and how these patterns of interpretation open or close spaces for political decisions (Nabers 2015).

An early example of discourse analysis in foreign policy is found in the work of Doty (1993), which shows how U.S. interventionist policy in the Philippines emerged from a U.S. identity discourse based on unquestioned presuppositions about a U.S. superiority in relation to the Asian country and its society. In the discourse of that time, racialized attributions (predications) were sometimes made, which, from a U.S. perspective, enabled the establishment of a “hierarchical” relationship (subject positioning) by denying the people of the Philippines the capacity for self-determination in the sense of “agency” (Doty 1993, p. 311). Accordingly, linguistic attributions are to be understood as rhetorical figures and as “discursive practices” that assign meaning to the social conditions to which they refer and enable corresponding consequences of action by making them appear “legitimate” against the background of specific identity constructions. On the other hand, these particular courses of action are impossible to understand without considering the narrative constructions of the U.S.-American identity. Hence, the self-understanding as a militarily, politically, and civilizationally “superior” society contributes to the conditions of possibility that enable such interventions. At the same time, this decision reassures the United States’s militarized identity and self-understanding (Doty 1993).

In discourse, the limits and possibilities of what can be meaningfully said vary over time; thus, the field of what can be potentially done is structured (Doty 1996). From this it follows that not everything formulated as potentially “possible” in a political discourse can also be implemented as a political decision. Discourse analysis examines how a specific decision becomes realizable out of many contingent possibilities and how and under which discursive conditions they can become a reality. In this sense, discourses regulate what is commonly “said” and enable and limit what is politically feasible.

That said, it seems plausible to direct the focus of discourse analysis in foreign policy research toward specific arenas where justificatory practices and discursive struggles take place in the limelight, for example in parliamentary debates. Although discourse analyses are never identical or operate according to a fixed scheme, Doty’s discursive practice approach informs the following discourse analysis.

However, to understand how and why some legitimations of political decisions might resonate with audiences better than others, the question of identity must be addressed in one way or another in discourse analysis (Epstein 2011). As mentioned, when talking about legitimizing and enabling political choices in this context, we necessarily refer to a whole set of identities because it is only against the background of these particular identities that specific legitimations of politics appear meaningful and thus become “possible” in the first place (Dunn and Neumann 2016; Hopf 2005; Hansen 2013 (2006)). As Hansen puts it, “The adoption of a discursive epistemology implies that the poststructuralist analytical focus is on the discursive construction of identity as both constitutive of and a product of foreign policy” (2013 (2006), p. 20).

Campbell (1992) argues that “state identity can be understood as the outcome of exclusionary practices in which resistant elements to a secure identity on the ‘inside’ are linked through a discourse of ‘danger’ with threats identified and located on the ‘outside.’ The outcome is that boundaries are constructed, spaces demarcated, standards of legitimacy incorporated, interpretations of history privileged, and alternatives marginalized” (1992, p. 75). In the context of U.S. foreign policy, Campbell (1992) showed how the discursive construction of threat and difference shapes state identity in the first place, creating conditions of possibility for foreign policy and military action. Similarily, Hansen (2013 (2006)) demonstrated in her seminal work on the Bosnia intervention how Western politics were made possible due to an increasing change in Western identity discourses regarding the Balkans. Once considered a cultural, romanticized, and geopolitical “other,” Bosnia became increasingly constituted as a “civilian victim” to which humanitarian responsibility was granted (Hansen 2013 (2006), p. 188).

Following a poststructuralist understanding of “identity” in the field of international relations, this concept initially refers to all statements that contribute to the construction of a “we” in regard to and differentiation from an “other,” as has been shown, for example, by Neumann (1999) in his work on Russia and the “West.” Following Neumann, constructions of the “we” can be assembled from historically grounded, normatively shaped, and culturally transmitted narratives. Nevertheless, as Epstein (2011) reminds us, constructions of the “self” and “other” are often considered in essentialist terms. To avoid essentialist and reductionist conceptualizations, looking at the narrative construction of different identities in the context of foreign policy is apparently valuable.

Thus, the concept of identity enables a meaningful, discursive understanding of what can be considered legitimate in the first place, while the assignment or denial of legitimacy can simultaneously be identity-forming and open or close future possibilities for action (Stahl 2012). Alternatively, as Hansen argued, “As particular constructions of identity underpin and legitimize policies, the broader political and ethical ambition is to show how these constructions impose particular constraints on which subjects can gain a legitimate if circumscribed presence and which foreign policies might, in turn, be meaningfully proscribed” (2013 (2006), p. 33). The discursive negotiation and considerations of what might be deemed as a meaningful, legitimate, and justified action are thus inseparably and constitutively coupled with identity constructions. While political discourses enable and constrain specific courses of political action, meaningful discursive articulations intertextually refer to a more extensive repertoire of different “narrative identities” to (de)legitimize a specific position.

Hopf (2005), for example, points to the crucial nexus between legitimacy and identity concerning the Russian intervention in Abkhazia. Empirically, Hopf showed how the legitimacy of the intervention in Abkhazia was created in Russian discourse by referring to a specific narrative identity of Russia as a “great power” and how this intervention, which was internationally perceived as a violation of international law, in turn stabilized and fed into such a narrative identity. Hence, from a Russian perspective, it was possible to regard the Abkhazia intervention as a “legitimate act” following a “great power identity,” although it violated international law.

Narrative constructions of identity provide more or less coherent explanations and stories about who “we” as social entities are, where “we” come from, where “we” are heading, and who “we want to be” and, therefore, offer guidance on what the “right thing to do” might be. Such narratives impose appropriate behavior that group members must comply with in dealing with the “other.”

The concept of narratives in particular refers to textual vehicles through which thoughts, ideas, and experiences are transported into the social world and thus become discursively meaningful and negotiable (Gadinger et al. 2014). According to Viehöver (2001), narratives are a universal mode of communication and the constitution of meaning, producing complex cultural patterns of interpretation. Accordingly, narratives are not just a description of events or a narrative imitation of actions, but they establish a relationship between the narrator and the audience. Therefore, narratives can be understood as complex, actor-bound articulations in which certain beliefs, identities, values, and interpretations of reality are condensed. For Viehöver (2014), narratives can legitimize social and political practices, institutions, and ways of thinking, for example by justifying present actions by referring to future threats. In her work on the constitution of “narrative identity,” Somers (1994) merges the concept of “narrative” and “identity” and explicitly points to the relational aspect of the processes of identity formation. Hence, identity is not a fixed and essentialist category but discursively develops and changes over time, space, and in relation to others (Somers 1994, p. 606).

Moreover, narrative identities are often highly disputed and might contradict each other. Nevertheless, such narrative identities are mobilized in foreign policy discourses to enable and justify specific political actions. Especially in Germany, the question of identity in foreign policy is highly contested, as the following section shows (Hellmann et al. 2014).

3 Discursive Contextualization: Narrative Identities in German Foreign Policy

In German foreign policy, the debate on continuity and change has been as central as the tension between self-restraint and self-assertion (Haftendorn 2006; Risse 2007; da Silva 2023; Duffield 1998). Two world wars, the Holocaust, and the Nazi past have become a constitutive part of this discourse and are repeatedly updated for identity-related self-assurance from one camp or the other (Schwelling 2007). Consequently, the question of identity in German foreign policy has to be understood through the demarcation from its history (Maier 2009; Baumann and Hellmann 2001) and internal and external expectations (Oppermann 2019). “Nazi Germany” embodies the significant other in the discourse on German foreign policy identity, which is repeatedly invoked as a category of difference having formed a particular (West‑)German self-confidence, self-understanding, and definitions of “normality” (Liu and Hilton 2005; Kundnani 2012; Berger 2002; Althoff et al. 1994; Baumann and Hellmann 2001).

Research on German foreign policy shows that very different constellations and identity constructions have developed since 1949, struggling for recognition and dominance in a discursive process (Risse 2007). Many different terms and notions exist to grasp what researchers have called “role concepts,” “identities,” “cultures,” or “traditions” (see, for example, Eberle and Miskimmon 2021; Oppermann 2012; Koenig 2020; Aggestam and Hyde-Price 2020; Berger 1998; Dalgaard-Nielsen 2005), and a clear-cut distinction among these concepts is impossible (da Silva 2023). Despite all controversies, it is relatively undisputed that German foreign policy was about to change after the constitutional court opened the path for out-of-era deployments in 1994. Supporting military action in Kosovo by the end of the 1990s, the deployment of the Bundeswehr to Afghanistan, the engagement in the war on terror, or now the military support of Ukraine would hardly be feasible without the discursive conditions of possibility required to justify such decisions and gain support in the parliament (Vignoli et al. 2022).

In Germany, however, not just one predominant or hegemonic narrative identity enables a foreign policy political decision. Gaskarth and Oppermann (2021) have already acknowledged the existence of many traditions of thought constitutive of German foreign policy and argued that “the existing literature misses the extent to which German policymakers rely upon the dynamic interplay of meaning between all these traditions to interpret policy dilemmas” (Gaskarth and Oppermann 2021, p. 88). Through a close reading of existing literature on German foreign policy, they identified four different traditions: “regionalism,” “pacifism,” “realism,” and “hegemonism.”

This contribution draws on Gaskarth and Oppermann’s approach but recognizes seven narrative identities distilled from public, political, and scientific literature and debates revolving around military affairs in German foreign policy. These narrative identities serve as a repertoire that was mobilized by political decision-makers in the parliamentary debates to (de)legitimize weapon deliveries to Ukraine: Germany as “power for peace,” “civilian power,” “shaping power,” “feminist foreign policy,” “trading power,” “military power” and “ethnonationalism.” Some identity narratives necessarily overlap, share similar slogans and symbols, and might appear in combination with each other. The analysis reveals how these narrative identities have been invoked in the discourse on weapon deliveries, as parliamentarians were arguing, for example, that such action is (not) consistent with German foreign policy rules, norms, and traditions and, therefore, is a (deviant and il)legitimate act.

3.1 Germany as “Power for Peace”—Pacifism and the Antimilitarist Consensus in German Foreign Policy

The rejection of any use of military force has a historical tradition in Germany that extends far beyond the political peace movement of the 1960s and 1970s. The idea that Germany as a “peace power” should, in principle, abstain from using military means is the basis of a foreign policy identity deeply inscribed in German history. The German Peace Society, founded by Bertha von Suttner and Alfred Hermann Fried in 1892, is the oldest pacifist organization in Germany. Since the 1970s, the organization has called itself “Deutsche Friedensgesellschaft – Vereinigte KriegsdienstgegnerInnen” (DFG-VK). They rallied against conscription and fostered the idea of dismantling the Bundeswehr.

In one of his last contributions to the journal Die Friedens-Warte, the international lawyer and pacifist Walther Schücking (1935) refers to the Christian origins of pacifism in the Quaker movement. In discussing work by Eugen Diesel, Schücking writes that pacifism as a political idea has constantly been confronted with accusations that it would be utopian to want to put “reason in the place of violence” (Schücking 1935, p. 1). In his article, Schücking expresses a position still shared by some pacifists today: “Peace through law.” However, this form of “rule-based pacifism” (one could also say “pragmatic pacifism”) should be distinguished from more radical forms of pacifism (Hofheinz 2017). While the former harbors a fundamental rejection of militarized foreign policy but considers the use of armed forces to defend a legal order legitimate in an emergency, radical pacifism rejects all forms of violence (Brücher 2017; Müller 2017).

As mentioned, due to a critical assessment of a violent past, pacifism and antimilitarist positions are central to German foreign policy discourse. This (radical) pacifist attitude is symbolized by socially well-known slogans such as “Never again war,” “Create peace without weapons,” and, for example, in some radical pacifist circles, by demands for the abolition of the Bundeswehr (Bleisch and Strub 2006). Researchers assume that an “antimilitarist consensus” and a “culture of military restraint” have solidified in parts of the foreign policy discourse following a long pacifist tradition and as a result of the critical reappraisal of National Socialism (Berger 1998; Schwab-Trapp 2002). Hence, every form of military support or action is considered illegitimate because it might foster a remilitarization of society and awaken “old ghosts” (Stengel 2020).

3.2 Germany as “Civilian Power”: “Never Again” and “Never Alone,” Peace-Seeking Multilateralism as Normative Principles for German Foreign Policy

Particularly prominent after the end of the East–West conflict was the role concept of “civilian power,” which represented a counterpoint to demands that German foreign policy should once again be more oriented toward self-interest and that militarized power politics should not be excluded. Maull (Kirste and Maull 1996; Maull 2000a, 2015, 2018) contributed significantly to the development of the civilian power concept, which has been empirically applied repeatedly to the example of the Federal Republic of Germany (most recently, Ghalehdar 2023). However, Maull’s concept was not only used to analyze German foreign policy but advanced to a normative role model or civilizing concept (“civilizing hexagon”; Senghaas 1997) on which the Federal Republic should base its foreign policy. In the debate on “continuity” and “change” in German foreign policy, it has often been noted that it was precisely the role concept of the “civilian power” that survived reunification and successfully inscribed itself into the foreign policy identity construction of the “Berlin Republic” despite the fundamental changes happening in the international environment (Risse 2007).

Critics of the concept pointed to the military involvement of the Federal Republic, for example in the mission in Kosovo, which had no authorization by a United Nations Security Council resolution, and interpreted the engagement in Operation Allied Force as a violation of the principles of civilian power. Maull (2000a), in contrast, emphasized that military action can be justified even for a civilian power if all peaceful means to solve a conflict have been exhausted (ultima ratio). However, military engagement must, in any case, be multilaterally embedded and legitimized under international law. Finally, Maull (2000b) summed up the maxim of German foreign policy as “never alone” and “never again.”

Derived from this is the idea that Germany can only contribute to peaceful conflict resolution within the framework of multilateral institutions and should not intervene by military means as a matter of principle unless it is an ultima ratio. This ultima ratio was expressed, for example, in Joschka Fischer’s quote, “Never again war, but also never again Auschwitz,” which he used at the time to justify the Red–Green government’s involvement in Kosovo, even though the mission was controversial according to international law (Greenwood 2000), while he vehemently denounced the U.S. intervention in Iraq in 2003 (Dalgaard-Nielsen 2005).

While Germany may have initially conformed to the ideal of a civilian power in the period after reunification, with regard to the deployment in Afghanistan, one might question that the use of military force was an ultima ratio. Accordingly, some observers have already assumed that German foreign policy has restated the principles of a “civilian power” (Roos 2012). Instead, a more robust foreign policy identity emerged.

3.3 Good-bye “Checkbook Diplomacy”—Germany’s “Responsibility” as “Shaping Power” in World Politics

Such an identity construction that envisions a significantly more proactive or even a “leading position” for Germany in world politics is often summarized under the trope of “shaping power” (Szabo 2017). Demands that Germany become involved in world politics as a shaping power were expressed, for example, in quotes from Federal President Joachim Gauck and Minister of Foreign Affairs Frank-Walter Steinmeier at the 2014 Munich Security Conference. Gauck (2014) called for Germany to assume its global responsibility more fairly, even using military force if necessary. Moreover, Steinmeier seconded the Federal President, saying, “The use of military force is an instrument of last resort. It should rightly be used with restraint. Yet a culture of restraint for Germany must not become a culture of standing aloof. Germany is too big to merely comment on world affairs from the sidelines” (Steinmeier 2014).

Link (2015) also noted that Germany was increasingly committed to a joint leadership role while the “culture of restraint” was being called into question. Consequently, “responsibility” became a prominent cipher of German foreign policy, which it wanted to live up to through international engagement (Steinmeier 2016). Concerning military support, the responsibility policy was already mobilized to justify weapon deliveries to the Peshmerga fighters (Stahl 2017).

A few years earlier, at the Green Party’s special convention in Bielefeld in May 1999, Foreign Minister Joschka Fischer, as already mentioned, justified Germany’s participation in the Kosovo mission with the words “Auschwitz is incomparable. But I stand on two principles, never again war, never again Auschwitz, never again genocide, never again fascism. For me, both belong together” (1999). Fischer mobilized a historically based “policy of responsibility” but did not derive a military abstinence, as anchored in the radial pacifist tradition of his party, but rather the demand for a military engagement of the Bundeswehr. In this respect, the idea that German foreign policy should live up to its “responsibility” was not first developed at the conference in Munich in 2014 but had roots in the discourse since the late 1990s. In the past, however, a culture of restraint in power politics was sometimes bought at a high price or compensated for in other ways, as Gareis (2021, p. 266) has pointed out.

Consequently, “shaping power” is often linked to a value-based and militarily robust responsibility policy. The implications of this identity can be seen in the Afghanistan mission. When the situation escalated militarily in 2008, 2009, and 2010, it became clear, to the surprise of many allies, that the Bundeswehr continued its deployment and that even Germany could wage “war”—despite a fierce debate about whether using the term “war” would undercut the legitimacy of the Afghanistan intervention (Heck 2023; Jacobi et al. 2011).

3.4 Feminist Foreign Policy—Shaping Power on Normative and Humanitarian Grounds

While Sweden was among the first states to pursue a “feminist foreign policy” in 2014, the idea was only recently adopted in German foreign policy (Klein 2022). In particular, since the Green Party’s Annalena Baerbock became the first woman to head the Foreign Ministry, a human rights–oriented foreign policy should be pursued that focuses on the needs of minorities and disadvantaged groups (Nouripour 2021). The basic principles of a feminist foreign policy were most precisely published in the guidelines for a feminist foreign policy by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.Footnote 5 When Baerbock presented the guidelines to the public in 2023, she cited a Ukrainian woman who once said, “If women are not safe, no one is safe,” and she went on to say, “Feminist foreign policy is in our security and economic interest” (2023). According to Baerbock, a feminist foreign policy is based on fundamental principles called the three Rs: “rights, resources, representation.”

In its most basic formulation, there are close connections between Germany as a “shaping power” and a specific understanding of feminist foreign policy that serves as a normative guideline for foreign policy decisions. In particular, feminist foreign policy is about shaping foreign policy with specific attention to possible effects on individuals and weaker or marginalized groups (Achilleos-Sarll et al. 2023; Scheyer and Kumskova 2019). Feminist foreign policy infuses a “humanitarian imperative” into German foreign policy discourse, standing in deliberate distinction to power politics recentering national and state interests. The debate on whether and how feminist foreign policy will impact Germany’s international affairs is only at the beginning, but it already shows a wide range of different conceptualizations of “gender” and “feminism” in the realm of foreign policy (Aran and Brummer 2024; Pierobon 2023; Hauschild and Stamm 2024).

3.5 Militarized Power Politics—Power Is Nothing Without Military Resources

The most profound counter-position to a radical pacifist foreign policy is expressed in a narrative identity best described as “militarized power politics.” Some demand a massive rearmament, expressed, for example, in the narrative of a “Bundeswehr armed to the teeth” as Carlo Masala once put it.Footnote 6 Going hand in hand with such narratives, claims have surfaced that Germany should “dare to pursue more realpolitik” and clearly define its “strategic interests” (Berenskötter and Stritzel 2021). A historically charged narrative that also underlies this identity construction refers to the work by Schwartz (1985), according to which Germany’s “obsession with power” has led to a “forgetfulness of power.” According to this, it is necessary to overcome the past, become aware of one’s strength, and act in terms of power politics (Geis 2005).

However, militarized power politics did not occupy a noteworthy position in foreign policy discourse for a long time—even if pacifists might disagree and would accuse current German foreign policy of a new “militarism” in particular. In the 2008 work on the “Semantics of the New German Foreign Policy” edited by Hellmann et al., there are only two references to the term “militarism” (Hellmann et al. 2008). The situation is different, however, for a position less concerned with overt “militarism” but more with “power politics” in the sense of a unilateral, sovereignty-fixated, or geostrategically oriented foreign policy. This position, while highly controversial since the end of World War II, is certainly present. According to Hellmann (2004, p. 81), although a “power-political resocialization” of German foreign policy has been observed since Gerhard Schröder came to power at the end of the 1990s, it had until then been without any particular emphasis on the military. Demands for German “power politics” were thus more likely to be accompanied by claims for more “sovereignty” and “foreign policy self-determination,” which—although they were in considerable tension with institutional, multilateral integration such as NATO and supranational structures such as the European Union (EU) —were not backed up in the same way by demands for more military engagement.

More recently, contributions have been increasing to recenter German foreign policy on strategic aspects, with explicit calls for a military buildup (Giegerich and Terhalle 2021; Enskat and Masala 2015). Giegerich and Terhalle (2021) argue for a more decisive leadership role for Germany in Europe in general and in resolving security conflicts in particular, with the “hard side” of security policy “standing by as reinsurance.”

This narrative identity is based on power politics backed up by military resources and has become more vocal in recent years, especially since the Afghanistan intervention turned bloody and Germany decided to stay. Unsparingly, the Russian invasion spurred demands that Germany shake off its military restraint and become a fully equipped military power.

3.6 Germany as “Trading Power”—Business First, Moral Second (If at All)

Another narrative identity in German foreign policy can be subsumed under the trope of “trading power.” This term refers mainly to German export surpluses and its economic strength in general. Accordingly, securing and nurturing financial success and maintaining societal wealth should be the main guidelines for German foreign policy (Staack 2007). For example, the demand that Germany should be the “export world champion” rather than the “moral world champion” underscores a neoliberal–capitalist underpinning of this identity, which defines “values” primarily in monetary terms.

According to this narrative identity, Germany should abstain from giving moral lectures and taking sides in international conflicts on ethical grounds but instead offer a role as an “honest broker” in peace negotiations. Because Germany has vital interests in healthy and stable trade relations across the globe, war and violent conflicts should be regionally contained, managed, and solved. As a “trading power,” Germany should rely on its influence as one of the strongest economies in the world. The narrative of “change through trade,” which was initially invented to recalibrate the German “Ostpolitik” (Blumenau 2022) and later adopted to organize relations with Russia (Adomeit 2020), is repeatedly invoked to legitimize economic ties with authoritarian states. It is just as much an expression of German foreign policy identity as the repeated criticism of a policy of “raised forefingers” that is perceived as “damaging to business,” for example when it comes to human rights in China (for a critical assessment, see Heilmann 2002).

3.7 Foreign Policy Identity Infused by Ethnonational Geopolitics: German “People” First

A final narrative identity might be a result of the populist wave in Europe. Narratives associated with ethnonational geopolitics refer to ethnically defined or “naturally” yet geopolitically determined spheres of influence “that must be respected” (Gauland and Hampel 2021). On the other hand, they refer to nationalist, racialized, and, in part, antisemitic conspiracy narratives of a world order shaped by “sinister powers” to the detriment of the German people (Wojczewski 2022). Many of these narratives resemble the populist melody of Germany ruled by a “corrupt power elite” that acts against the national interest of the “people,” asserting that Germany is “not sovereign” but a vassal state of the United States (Ostermann and Stahl 2022).

These narratives, often associated with “new-right” and “identitarian” discourses, contain a profound rejection of liberal norms of an open society, which manifests itself in a gender-hostile disparagement of the United States as a “rainbow empire” or the homophobic vilification of Europe and the EU as “Gayrope,” initially used in Russian discourse to dispraise the liberal West. These symbols were soon picked up and incorporated into a right-wing narrative identity, which emphasizes the “moral degeneration” and the demise of “traditional values” in Europe. Furthermore, such narratives manifest in Putin worship and slogans like “Putin, help us!” as Russia is regarded as the true harbinger of security, strength, and values.Footnote 7 According to this identity construction, Germany should better care for itself (echoing Trump’s “America first”) and pursue a national strength and self-determination strategy.

These narrative identities form a repertoire that policymakers intertextually invoke to legitimize foreign policy action as they enable and constrain the spaces of legitimate political action.

4 Discourse Analysis of German Parliamentary Debates in 2021 and 2023

The discourse analysis draws on 41 documents and excerpts from plenary debates on military support or arms deliveries to Ukraine. The parliamentary documents/protocols were collected using the Bundestag Archive search engine. The period of investigation extends from December 9, 2021, since this was the first time that the supply of weapons was discussed in the Bundestag, given the massive military buildup in front of Ukraine’s border, to January 25, 2023, since this was when the Bundestag discussed the German government’s decision to supply battle tanks of the type Leopard 2 to Ukraine.

Analyzing the plenary debates shows that, at least in regard as to who started this war and whether it is considered an illegal invasion of Ukraine, there is widespread agreement since all speeches interpret “Putin” or “Russia” as the “aggressor.” This attribution is shared among all participants of the parliamentary debate. In his “Zeitenwende” speech, Chancellor Scholz (SPD) stated the following:

“February 24, 2022, marks a turning point in the history of our continent. With the invasion of Ukraine, Russian President Putin has cold-bloodedly launched a war of aggression—for one single reason: the freedom of the Ukrainians calls his oppressive regime into question. That is inhumane. It is contrary to international law. Nothing and no one can justify it” (Scholz 2022a, p. 1350 [all quotes translated by author]).

He also emphasized Putin’s will to resurrect a “Russian Empire” and change Europe’s power constellation by military means (Scholz 2022a, p. 1352). Opposition leader Friedrich Merz (Christian Democratic Union [CDU]) concurred with Scholz’s perspective and called Putin a “war criminal” and the “only person who is responsible for this war” (Merz 2022, p. 1355). Foreign Minister Annalena Baerbock (Bündnis 90/Die Grünen [Alliance 90/The Greens]) confessed that

“This war makes it necessary to reassess the basic principles of our foreign policy and that a 180-degree turn concerning weapon deliveries is required (…) the Kremlin has betrayed us (…) Putin wanted this war whatever it takes” (Baerbock 2022a, p. 1359).

Christian Lindner (FDP) claimed that Russia had started an “illegal war against Ukraine,” which “marks the end of all hopes for peace and the end of all illusions about Putin’s Russia (…)” (Lindner 2022, p. 1361), and he continued by stating that “this is an attack on our values and order, an attack on all of us” (Lindner 2022, p. 1362). Amira Mohamed Ali (Die Linke) joined the perspective that Russia had unleashed an offensive war in violation of international law and that Putin “has left the table” and jeopardizes the security of Europe and the whole world. “Russia’s offensive war is by no means justifiable,” Ali concludes (Ali 2022, p. 1363). Alice Weidel (AfD) offered a different explanation for the war, as it was a fundamental mistake to promise Ukraine NATO membership, as this would be “a red line for Russia” (Weidel 2022, p. 1360). However, she acknowledged that people in Ukraine are paying the price for Russia’s violation of international law; nevertheless, Western arrogance and denial of Russia’s “great power” status are responsible for the escalation (Weidel 2022, p. 1361).

In some speeches, but not all, a significant division is drawn between Russian President Putin and the Russian people. Military support for Ukraine (and the accompanying sanctions packages) are legitimized as measures that should be directed against the “Putin system” and not against the Russian people, as Baerbock claimed (Baerbock 2022a). The subjects “Putin/Russian elite” and “Russian people” are positioned in a strong hierarchy, implying that Putin and his system have taken the Russian people hostage and therefore rendered them incapable of action. Therefore, the subject “Russian people” has limited agency and cannot be held accountable for this war and its consequences. “Putin,” on the other hand, is positioned as the agent calling the shots. Tino Chrupalla (AfD) explicitly argued that “Russia is just as little Putin as Germany is Frank Walter Steinmeier; it is not that simple” (Chrupalla 2022a, p. 1370). He rejected finger-pointing and recrimination because they inflame the conflict. He reminded the parliamentarians, “Russia is likewise part of the European states and people as the Ukraine” (Chrupalla 2022a, p. 1370).

Although it was widely shared that Putin had unleashed an illegal war and that the attribution of Russia’s move on Ukraine’s territory as “aggressive” was common sense, the “othering” was by no means sufficient to legitimize military support for Ukraine univocally. The parliamentary debates resembled and echoed public concerns as the decision tackled core principles of German foreign policy.

4.1 Legitimizing Weapon Deliveries and Military Support to Ukraine

Most vehemently, weapon deliveries were demanded by the FDP, Bündnis 90/Die Grünen, and the Christian Democratic Union/Christian Social Union (CDU/CSU). Marie-Agnes Strack-Zimmermann (FDP) even referred to Willy Brandt’s Nobel Prize speech in 1971 to justify weapon deliveries.

“He was already concerned about the future of Europe (…) and pointed out Germany’s responsibility. 51 years later, this scenario is brutally catching up with us (…) Russia has invaded Ukraine and has attacked our value-based order (…). How to deal with the war also led to heated discussions, and I am happy that our Federal Government has cleared the way for the supply to deliver heavy weapons to Ukraine, in accordance with the Western alliance” (Strack-Zimmermann 2022a, p. 2733).

Moreover, some weeks later, she pointed out

“We are convinced that Germany needs to redefine its international role. Zeitenwende does not just mean more resources for the Bundeswehr. It also means taking the lead and not waiting for our partners to make uncomfortable decisions” (Strack-Zimmermann 2022b, p. 5876).

The term “responsibility” is also stressed in the words of Annalena Baerbock, who reminded the parliament that

“It is probably the case today that a special form and unique restraint in Germany’s foreign and security policy ends. The rules we set for ourselves must not relieve us from our responsibility. If our world is different, our policy must also be different” (Baerbock 2022a, p. 1359).

Baerbock explicitly addresses the question of a new German identity in foreign policy facing the war in Ukraine: “Not only are we formulating a national security strategy for the first time, but this is also about the identity of our country. Old habits have been thrown overboard” (Baerbock 2022b, p. 2633). Friedrich Merz (CDU) and members of the CDU/CSU faction also pushed the government into a “leading role,” and Merz explicitly demanded “the use of military force” to counter the aggressor and his power apparatus. Similarly, Anton Hofreiter (Bündnis 90/Die Grünen) urged the government to deliver more weapons:

“We need to provide Ukraine with even more support. Moreover, we must also ensure that Ukraine gets more weapons for its defense. Calls to stop weapon deliveries and to start negotiations are naïve, irresponsible, and a denial of assistance” (Hofreiter 2022, p. 7061).

These voices strongly call for a shift in German foreign policy, indicating that a new identity seems necessary in reaction to this crisis. They mobilize narratives associated with the concept of a “shaping power” identity as a German “responsibility” to defend the “value-based order” of Europe, which is proclaimed in order to legitimize weapon deliveries. However, in the case of the CDU/CSU and regarding speeches by parliamentarians from the FDP and Bündnis 90/Die Grünen, the claim to become a “shaping power” was combined with explicit references to militaristic power politics. A more demanding and much more decisive approach to the “weapons issue” was called by Friedrich Merz, for example, who claimed “candlelight gatherings” are not enough.

Concerning the “newly created reality” by Putin, the chancellor declared the following in his “Zeitenwende” speech:

“We decided yesterday that Germany will supply Ukraine with weapons to defend the country—there could be no other answer to Putin’s aggression” (Scholz 2022a, p. 1351).

Through this speech, Scholz positioned Germany “at the side” of Ukraine in this war and emphasized that “we [were] on the right side of history” (Scholz 2022a, p. 1351). According to Scholz, Germany is responsible for defending Ukraine’s sovereignty to maintain the order of peace in Europe because borders should not be moved by force. Christian Lindner (FDP) not only claimed “solidarity with Ukraine” but emphasized a new Western “we-ness,” including Ukraine as a “sovereign state” that has chosen a path “against authoritarianism, for democracy and the state of law and was therefore attacked” (Lindner 2022, p. 1362). This predication refers to a presupposed knowledge about the Euromaidan movement and Ukraine’s struggles to get rid of Russian influence dating back to the year 2014—the same year Russia annexed Crimea. Annalena Baerbock seconded this notion by stating that “we want to make it clear: Ukraine belongs to Europe” concerning a possible EU membership of Ukraine (Baerbock 2022b, p. 2637). Robin Wagener (Bündnis 90/Die Grünen) had already pointed to these developments before Russia’s invasions, arguing that the EU served as a “guiding star” for the people in Ukraine (Wagener 2021, p. 277). Several weeks into the war, Alexander Graf Lambsdorff (FDP) backed up these positions, stating that “democracy and freedom, for these values, for western values, for our values, people are dying every day in Ukraine” (Lambsdorff 2022, p. 1436), and Marie-Agnes Strack-Zimmermann claimed that

“It is about freedom, about democracy, about self-determination, human rights that are being trampled. And that is why Ukraine is asking, indeed is crying out for our help” (Strack-Zimmermann 2022a, p. 2733).

The calls to consider Ukraine as part of the Western community, emphasizing that Ukraine is defending Western values, democracy, and freedom, is remarkable in several respects. First, it positions the subject Ukraine alongside the “West” and insinuates a Western and specifically a European “we-ness,” including the people in Ukraine. Emphasizing a value-based foreign policy fosters the idea that support for Ukraine’s fight against Russia is not only justified in a legal sense or necessary for Germany’s geopolitical interest but is also morally legitimized in terms of a shared identity. These claims have also been made referring to the narrative identity of a feminist foreign policy, for example by Baerbock and others explicitly shedding light on individual suffering, emphasizing humanitarian issues as well (Baerbock 2022a, p. 1359). Svenja Schulze (SPD) addressed the hardship of women and children explicitly in her report to the Bundestag about the refugee situation that is emotionally related to the situation:

“Millions of people are on the run. Around half of them are children. Many of these children have to journey alone, without their parents. I saw this for myself on Monday in Sighet on the Romanian–Ukrainian border. These images continue to haunt me” (Schulze 2022, p. 1438).

The discursive construction of “we-ness” and references to the individual suffering and hardships of “women, men, and children” shifts the military support of Ukraine’s fight against Russia’s invasion onto higher ground and pushes the idea that Germany must live up to its responsibility as a “shaping power” and make firm but value-based feminist foreign policy decisions.

4.2 Delegitimizing Weapon Deliveries and Military Support to the Ukraine

The construction of a European “we-ness” including Ukraine or references to a “feminist foreign policy” were not shared by everyone. As early as December 2021, Alexander Gauland (AfD) pointed out that Russia had a culturally and historically based claim to power over ancient Russian “settlement spaces” and the “core of the Tsarist empire” that has not been respected by the West (Gauland 2021, p. 271). Concerning alliance membership of Ukraine and Georgia, Gauland emphasized that

“Historical and political circumstances restrict a state’s freedom of action even without a legal obligation. That is why it is not wise to insist on something that Russia takes as an unacceptable provocation: the ever-increasing interdependence of Ukraine, but also Georgia, of Western security structures. Russia suffers a ‘phantom limb pain.’ Therefore, the West must consider Russia’s reaction and abstain from further eastern enlargement” (Gauland 2021, p. 271).

Gauland vehemently claimed that Ukraine had been part of the Soviet empire and that “for Russia, Ukraine is not just any country, but part of a common past, rooted in a common identity” (Gauland 2022a, p. 1120). He vigorously defended his claim that Ukraine is not and should not be part of the West, as this might humiliate Russia’s geopolitical interests. “As long as Russia is a nuclear power, negotiations will only be feasible if the results are accepted by Russia, who will not accept a Western Ukraine” (Gauland 2022b, p. 2733).

Gauland mobilizes an ethnonationalist narrative as he presupposes Russia’s “natural sphere of influence.” Although Tino Chrupalla explicitly mentioned that “anyone who, like us, regards Ukraine as an independent state must also stand up for it and not encourage its destabilization” (Chrupalla 2022a, p. 1370), it seems that an essential part of this statement is, at the same time, the very denial of Ukraine’s right to self-determination and to choose alliance memberships as an act of sovereignty. By explicitly mentioning that Ukraine is an “independent state,” it seems that Chrupalla touched the borders of what could be said. Gauland’s statements went one step further, implying that Ukraine is, in fact, not a sovereign state but a subordinate entity within the Russian sphere of influence. This subject positioning creates a hierarchy between Russia and Ukraine regarding power and status because it considers both states unequal regarding fundamental rights usually granted to a nation-state and, therefore, questions the legitimacy of Ukraine’s self-defense.

This discursive construction of the unequalness and deficiency of Ukraine’s statehood denies Ukrainians the status of an independent entity and invokes conceptions of traditional great power politics as Russia “legitimately” exercises control over the former Soviet republics. This viewpoint resonates with a militarized geopolitical perspective, which vehemently rejects international norms and value-based considerations such as those associated with a “shaping power” or “civilian power” identity. Instead of delivering weapons to Ukraine, Germany should restore its relations with Russia and urge NATO partners to negotiate a peace settlement based on Russia’s terms and interests, irrespective of Ukraine’s territorial integrity and the Russian violation of international law.

After Russian troops finally crossed the Ukraine border, the AfD continued to argue that the eastern expansion of NATO disrespected Russia’s security interests and its status as a “great power,” as Alice Weidel said in her responding statement to Scholz’s “Zeitenwende” speech (Weidel 2022, p. 1361). Furthermore, she claimed that it was a “fatal error” to offer Ukraine a NATO membership perspective, as this has lured NATO and the EU into a confrontation with Russia.

“That is the historical failure of the West: the humiliation of Russia. That does not change the reprehensibility of Russia’s intervention. However, acknowledging the causes is a precondition for solutions” (Weidel 2022, p. 1361).

Regarding Germany’s involvement in the conflict, Weidel claimed it was too weak and “has nothing to call up in its current shape” (Weidel 2022, p. 1361). Instead, the issued sanctions against Russia “damage Germany more than they might harm those who should be affected, and they will not stop the war.” Weidel said they were “alibi-politics like illuminating the Brandenburg Gate in the colors of Ukraine” (Weidel 2022, p. 1361). Tino Chrupalla concurs with Weidel, as he explicitly questioned the decisions to stop Nord Stream 2 and to ban Aeroflot:

“We have to ask: who benefits? (…) This is not in Germany’s interest” (Chrupalla 2022a, p. 1370). Concerning the special fund for the Bundeswehr, he said, “This is crazy. We reject a new arms race, and I will engage in dialogue and negotiations for a peaceful solution” (Chrupalla 2022a, p. 1370).

At first glance, these statements reiterate the notion that NATO’s eastern enlargement has caused today’s war and that NATO has been a threat to Russia’s security interests. Therefore, weapon deliveries appear illegitimate and endanger Germany’s economic and geopolitical relations with Russia. Nevertheless, they also feed into complaints about “German weakness,” a fundamental criticism turning the narrative identity of “militarized power politics” upside down. While proponents of a more militarized German foreign policy welcomed the special funds, the AfD rejected them and claimed that Germany should stay out of the game due to its weakness. These incoherent positions only become comprehensible when recalling Alexander Gauland’s presuppositions, being that Ukraine’s right to self-defense is to be seen as questionable and that a militarily powerful Russia’s “natural right” to seize Ukraine might be ugly but must be accepted by weaker states.

Weidel and other AfD parliamentarians also mobilized the “trading power” identity to delegitimize the whole strategic course of action as a policy directed against the German people, who would suffer politically, economically, and strategically. Weidel saw the danger of Germany being dragged further into the war and forfeiting a possible role as an “honest broker” to overcome East–West “block thinking.” Tino Chrupalla mainly referred to Germany’s identity as a “power for peace.” He accused Scholz of having “reactivated the Cold War” and asked rhetorically,

“Do you want to be the government that sends soldiers to war against Russia? (…) Stop planning to harm relations but foster wealth, security, and peaceful coexistence of nations from Vladivostok to Lisbon” (Chrupalla 2022a, p. 1370).

Chrupalla was referring to Putin’s vision of a trans-Eurasian free-trade area. In an op-ed for the Süddeutsche Zeitung published in November 2010, Putin wrote, “We propose the creation of a harmonious economic community stretching from Lisbon to Vladivostok.”Footnote 8

The AfD melted fragments of several identity narratives, such as ethnonationalism, trading power, and Germany as a power for peace, to delegitimize weapon deliveries. However, the amalgam of “respect for Russia,” ethnonationalism, “Germany first,” and the “peace dove” rhetoric, in combination with the disrespect for international norms, contempt for liberalism, and disdain for Western democracy, seems to bring about a relatively new identity narrative in German foreign policy highly infused by populist sentiments.

Although Die Linke shared the critical perspective on weapon deliveries, representatives primarily referred to the “antimilitarist consensus” and “nuclear anxiety” to justify their positions. Nevertheless, some arguments overlapped, but not without some significant differences. Dietmar Bartsch (Die Linke) emphasized the “fears of millions of people in Germany that the current crisis might escalate into a nuclear war, and they are right” (Bartsch 2022, p. 2727).

He also stressed that his faction does not understand why the chancellor declared in an interview with Der Spiegel that he also shares this concern. He cited Scholz: “I am doing everything I can to prevent an escalation that leads to a third world war. There must be no nuclear war,” but he criticized the chancellor for acting otherwise, as his government had “announced the deliveries of heavy weapons only 72 hours after this interview” (Bartsch 2022, p. 2728).

While Bartsch raised the sentiment of “nuclear anxiety” and public fears that Germany would be dragged into the war, Gregor Gysi directly invoked Germany’s war-prone history to delegitimize military involvement and defended public criticism and skepticism regarding weapon deliveries. Gysi rejected weapon deliveries because they were enhancing and unnecessarily prolonging the war:

“No one has the right to dictate to Ukraine or to urge them to take this war to the bitter end of a military decision. Moreover, that is what you did, Federal Minister Baerbock, when you said that the war would only be over when the last Russian soldier has left Ukrainian territory” (Gysi 2022, p. 3954).

Gysi formulated a position that also contested Ukraine’s statehood, but in contrast to Gauland, he argued that weapon deliveries and Western military support might foster Ukraine’s dependency on the West and harm its self-determination. Although Gysi did not say it directly, these notions intertextually referred to accusations that the United States and the West might exploit Ukraine to wage a proxy war against Russia. Sevim Dağdelen (Die Linke) emphasized, “We urgently need a different foreign policy, a peaceful foreign policy instead of a bloc confrontation arms raise and a proxy war” (Dağdelen 2022, p. 8065)—a position shared by Tino Chrupalla (AfD), who explicitly condemned weapon deliveries because the federal government “was guilty of supporting a U.S.-led proxy war” (Chrupalla 2022b, p. 6151).

Concerning weapon deliveries, Gysi also emphasized his fundamental opposition to any German weapon production: “Germany’s guilt and responsibility for the Second World War and Holocaust should have prohibited us once and for all from allowing German companies from ever earning anything from arms exports again.” He also criticized Baerbock for having said that she fears the German “public would become war-worn,” to which he sarcastically comments, “what else, did you expect that people are enthusiastic about the war? I say to you: Most of our population is peace-loving and is therefore always war-weary” (Gysi 2022, p. 3954).

At the same time, he accused the government of sending even more weapons and using a militarized language, which are supposed to be instruments of increasing the acceptance for belligerent conflict resolution among the German people. In this regard, he pointed to the fierce criticism that philosopher Jürgen Habermas received for pleading “prudence” and “deliberateness” (Gysi 2022, p. 3954). Gysi strongly referred to German society’s “antimilitarist consensus” to reject military involvement and called for traditional pacifism as the central guideline for German foreign policy.

4.3 From Leader to Laggard: The Return of the Civilian Power Narrative Identity

The discursive construction of a Western “we” encompassing Ukraine and calls for Germany to take “responsibility” or a “leading role” is not shared by everyone—even among those who favor military support. Nils Schmid (SPD), for example, moves away rhetorically from constructions of “we-ness” as he positions Germany not “at the side” but explicitly “behind” Ukraine (Schmid 2022, p. 2731). Schmid emphasizes that Ukraine will be supported

“with everything we have at our disposal: politically, diplomatically, economically and, of course, also, very carefully weighed up, militarily” (Schmid 2022, p. 2731).

Furthermore, Lars Klingbeil (SPD) challenged statements from Merz and other calls for taking the “lead” in military support by cautiously reminding the parliament of the fundamental principles and convictions that have guided German foreign policy for a long time and “cannot be thrown overboard even while facing a “Zeitenwende” (Klingbeil 2022, p. 2724). Klingbeil emphasized that one has already broken the “principles of German foreign policy” by supplying defensive weapons:

“But even here we had principles […]. We said that we will not jeopardize our own national and alliance defense. And we said that we will not become a party of the war” (Klingbeil 2022, p. 2724).

In the debate on the supply of defensive weapons on April 28, 2022, which took place without the chancellor, the speeches of SPD representatives showed an apparent reference to the principles of a “civilian power” backed up with pacifist justifications. In a similar vein, Joe Weingarten (SPD) explained the reasons for weapon deliveries without referring to “we-ness” and “value” orientation but rather soberly:

“Our arms give Ukraine a military strength that will force Russia to engage in serious negotiations and withdraw from Ukrainian territory as quickly as possible” (Weingarten 2022, p. 9427).

Also, the chancellor’s tone changed significantly. Thus, Scholz suddenly emphasized “that we are supplying weapons at all is a break with a long tradition” of German foreign policy. “The real way, the real decision,” the chancellor said, was “that we do it at all” (Scholz 2022b, p. 2245).

The initially expressed solidarity with Ukraine is now placed under a junction that is supposed to set clear limits to military support: Germany will not be dragged into the war, and Russia will not be provoked. In legitimizing the delivery of defensive weapons, the chancellor refers to the ultima ratio but also stresses that the premise for this is straightforward: The goal must be that “Russia does not win this war” (Scholz 2022c, p. 3489).

In the January 25, 2023, debate, Scholz justified the German government’s position on the issue of heavy weapons delivery again. Scholz recalled that “Russia has unleashed an imperialist war which questions the basic principles in Europe, that borders must not be moved by force. That is what Russia has denounced. That is the ‘Zeitenwende’ that I have spoken about here in this Bundestag” (Scholz 2023b, p. 9643). The chancellor also emphasized that weapon deliveries have resulted from close consultations with international partners and that helping Ukraine goes far beyond military support. He also pointed out that “we have broken basic principles of governmental policies” and that

“Germany will always take the lead when it comes to supporting Ukraine, and that is why we have decided to deliver heavy weapons (…). We have made all these decisions in harmony and close cooperation with our allies. That is why they are effective, and why we were able to make them. That is the principle of this government” (Scholz 2023b, p. 9643).

Scholz emphasizes Germany’s civilian power identity but also explains that due to the “Zeitenwende” it was necessary and justified to abstain from principles that have guided German foreign policy for decades. Nevertheless, he does not wave the “civilian power” goodbye but, rather, recalls the narrative identity to legitimize his decisions—close consultation with partners and multilateralism and the situation of ultima ratio he calls “Zeitenwende.”

How can this change be explained? The cited opinion polls on weapon deliveries at the beginning of this article show that many people find it alienating that Germany acts as an offensive force in the turmoil of an utterly incalculable war against Russia and its threat to use nuclear weapons if necessary. However, given the massive military and propaganda escalation of the war by Russia, the publicly articulated claim for a leadership position in military affairs may have proved to be a number too large for both the government and the broader German public.

The media uproar was observable every evening by that time in relevant television and discussion formats and through the massive criticism of military support for the Ukraine expressed by public figures. In hindsight, this was less an expression of a lack of solidarity and more of an indication of a much more fundamental unease that Germany was no longer a “shaping power” in humanitarian and economic matters “only”—but strived for a leading position in military affairs as well.

Scholz’s discursive retreat from the offensive into the defensive midfield (Hellmann 2015) may have caused disappointment in the alliance and annoyance among advocates of a tougher stance. Nevertheless, as a confidence-building measure to calm a divided public, this step might have had an effect that ultimately allowed the chancellor to legitimize the delivery of heavy weapons such as the Leopard 2. Operating from the defensive midfield of civilian power, Scholz was less vulnerable to attacks and accusations of warmongering from weapon skeptics in his party and the larger public than he was in the offensive position of a self-proclaimed “playmaker.”

5 Conclusion

The aim of this analysis was to show how weapon deliveries were (de)legitimized in the German parliament. Justifications of such severe foreign policy decisions never take place in a discursive vacuum; instead, they intertextually refer to and are constituted by specific narrative identities that enable the legitimation of a decision as a meaningful and appropriate course of action. Therefore, identities and the legitimations of foreign policy decisions are mutually constituted but also reconfigured.

The results of the analysis show, at first glance and somewhat unsurprisingly, that plenary debates reveal a pronounced recourse to a (radical) pacifist and antimilitarist narrative identity to delegitimize and fundamentally reject arms deliveries and any military involvement in this war, especially as invoked by Die Linke and to some extent by the AfD. More interesting are statements referring to ethnonationalist narratives implicitly denying Ukraine’s right to self-defense and questioning its statehood. These delegitimations of military support to Ukraine invoke historically burdened geopolitical thinking regarding “natural spheres of influence” and question the concept of sovereignty. Accordingly, the violent shifting of national borders based on historical claims appears “legitimate,” although the West might despise it. The delegitimation of weapon deliveries articulated by representatives of the AfD reconfigures fragments and slogans of multiple narrative identities in German foreign policy, ranging from “pacifism” and “trading power” to “ethnonationalism.” This reconfiguration of identities to delegitimize military support to Ukraine might indicate the emergence of a new narrative identity heavily infused by populist and antiliberal sentiments, which require further investigation.

The attempts to create a new Western “we-ness” that includes Ukraine to legitimize weapon deliveries are also noteworthy. The problem is that ennobling Ukraine’s resistance against Russia as an epic fight for “freedom” and “democracy” inevitably exhales a paternalist flavor, as if the war is regarded as a kind of “initiation ritual.” It seems almost forgotten that the German government reacted reluctantly when Ukraine’s NATO membership was discussed in 2007 (Rahr 2007, p. 145). The construction of a Western “we-ness” including Ukraine and the strong othering of “Putin” and “Russia” was combined with notions of German “responsibility” and leadership aspirations invoking narratives associated with a “shaping power” identity. But the analysis shows that the increasingly militarized language might also reconfigure the “shaping power” identity into a more “militarized” version.

In contrast, Chancellor Scholz and the SPD representatives reacted very hesitantly to claims for taking an even tougher position on Russia and distanced themselves from calls for more weapons. Although Scholz’s “Zeitenwende” speech might have spurred expectations that German foreign policy is about to change and, indeed, is taking its “military responsibility” and “leadership position” in Europe seriously, it seems very obvious that he and the SPD faction rejected such interpretations. In the aftermath of the “Zeitenwende” speech, speeches made by SPD representatives were almost exclusively referencing the identity of a “civilian power.” Notions of a new “we-ness” were countered by notions of “standing behind” Ukraine and that weapon deliveries are legitimized only as ultima ratio so that “Russia must not win” and Germany will “not be dragged” into the war. However, invoking the civilian power identity also constrained further military support for Ukraine. Recently, Scholz rejected calls for Taurus missiles so intransigently (“because I am the chancellor, and that is why”) that he would not be able to walk it back without suffering a severe damage of reputation, whatever might happen in the war.Footnote 9

The question of whether and how Ukraine should be militarily supported in its fight against Russia has become a decisive moment in German foreign policy. The implications of the “Zeitenwende” go far beyond concrete political or military details about “special funds,” “caliber size,” or “weapon systems,” putting fundamental questions regarding German foreign policy at stake. The chancellor and parts of the SPD faction have updated the traditional “civilian power” identity to justify the “well-dosed” and limited military support to calm down an increasingly anxious public, intimidated by Putin’s threats and fears of a further escalation.

However, proponents of a “shaping power” identity have been more outspoken than ever before and have established a discursive coalition across governmental and opposition factions. In addition, the “shaping power” identity has at least in some parts adopted the language of a “militarized power politics” identity narrative and has also developed a gender perspective referring to a “feminist foreign policy.” While traditional pacifist and antimilitarist voices are still present, the most remarkable finding was the reconfiguration and sampling of identity narratives by the AfD faction. Melding traditional “pacifism,” “trading power,” and “ethnonationalism” to delegitimize the military support of Ukraine strongly indicates the rise of a right-wing identity narrative capitalizing on populist and antiliberal sentiments. The reconfiguration of these identity narratives has already pushed the borders of the sayable in German foreign policy, as speaking of “natural spheres of influence” and sacrificing the rule of law in favor of power politics echoes the darkest chapters in history.