Germany has abruptly become Europe's most hawkish nation on China policy, a dramatic repositioning driven by economic hardship rather than geopolitical ideology. New polling data reveals that 49 per cent of Germans regard China as fundamentally a rival or adversary—a substantially higher proportion than any other European country surveyed, including France at 43 per cent, a nation that has long advocated for a more assertive EU trade stance. This emerging consensus among German voters stands in sharp contrast to the country's decades-long strategy of economic accommodation with Beijing, signalling a potential rupture in one of Europe's most consequential bilateral relationships.
The shift in German public opinion carries particular weight because it reflects genuine citizen concern rather than political theatre. Only 38 per cent of Germans hold positive views of China, whether characterising it as a partner or ally. This stands in marked contrast to other European populations—65 per cent of Spaniards and 62 per cent of Bulgarians express favourable attitudes towards Beijing. The disparity underscores how unevenly the costs of Chinese competition have been distributed across the continent, with Germany's highly developed manufacturing base bearing disproportionate strain.
The economic damage inflicted on Germany has been severe and ongoing. Between 2019 and 2025, Germany's manufacturing sector shed approximately 420,000 jobs, according to analysis by the European Council on Foreign Relations. More troublingly, the bleeding continues at a monthly rate of roughly 10,000 job losses. The automotive industry has borne the heaviest burden, facing an increasingly crowded market where Chinese manufacturers—both in Germany itself and globally—are steadily capturing market share. This represents an existential threat to an industrial sector that has historically anchored German economic prosperity and social stability.
Yet Berlin's political establishment has proved reluctant to match public sentiment with policy action. During 2024, Germany notably abstained from supporting the bloc's decision to impose anti-subsidy tariffs on Chinese-made electric vehicles, a stance that frustrated advocates for stronger EU trade defence. The German government remains internally divided on how to proceed. Economy Minister Katherina Reiche, herself a member of Chancellor Friedrich Merz's Christian Democratic Union, has emerged as the cabinet's most vocal sceptic of measures against China, even as manufacturing communities in her own country haemorrhage employment.
Yet the political terrain may be shifting beneath Berlin's feet. The polling data suggests that mainstream German voters would likely support a tougher approach without fear of electoral backlash. A striking 60 per cent of Christian Democratic and Social Democratic party supporters—the two traditional governing blocs—regard China as either a rival or adversary. This means that both the center-right and center-left camps possess substantial domestic political cover to pursue more assertive policies, removing what has long been a convenient excuse for inaction.
Interestingly, the political extremes in Germany tell a different story. The far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD), which currently leads or performs strongly in many polling aggregates and is positioned to win in some regional elections this year, expresses the most positive views of China among major German political movements. Some 45 per cent of AfD supporters regard China as a necessary partner, while only 39 per cent in aggregate view it as rival or adversary. This positioning reflects the AfD's broader Euroscepticism and alignment with Beijing's critique of Western hegemony, a posture that sits uneasily with Germany's NATO membership and European integration.
Moreover, the centre-left Social Democrats have emerged as unexpectedly hawkish on China relative to their counterparts elsewhere in Europe. Across the continent, social democratic parties have traditionally advocated for softer engagement with Beijing, yet 60 per cent of German SPD supporters now characterise China as a rival or adversary. This represents a notable divergence from international social democratic orthodoxy and reflects the particular vulnerability of German workers to Chinese manufacturing competition.
Signs of a genuine policy reorientation have begun appearing in Germany's corporate sector, itself a barometer of shifting elite opinion. In recent weeks, the chief executive of Volkswagen—one of Germany's three automotive giants—publicly urged the European Commission to impose tariffs on Chinese-made plug-in hybrid electric vehicles. This reversal is extraordinary given that the same company vociferously opposed such duties merely months earlier. As one analyst at the Rhodium Group noted, this represented the first occasion on which a German automotive chief executive had publicly demanded trade defence measures against China, a threshold moment after decades of industry lobbying for non-intervention.
The underlying logic driving this volte-face is straightforward: Chinese competitive pressure has become so overwhelming that the traditional strategy of quietism—lobbying Berlin and Brussels to refrain from intervention—no longer offers corporate protection. German manufacturers increasingly recognise that they cannot out-compete low-cost Chinese rivals or match Beijing's state-coordinated industrial policy through passive market reliance alone. Volkswagen's shift therefore signals that even Germany's most globally integrated corporations now regard some form of strategic trade policy as preferable to the slow-motion deindustrialisation they currently face.
For Southeast Asian economies, Germany's emerging hawkishness towards China carries important implications. Any hardening of German or broader European Union policy towards Beijing could reshape regional trade dynamics and investment flows. Malaysia and other regional economies that have benefited from Chinese investment and supply chains must monitor whether German-led pressure triggers a more coordinated EU approach to Chinese trade practices, potentially including mechanisms that could redirect investment or alter sourcing patterns across Asia. The region's positioning as an alternative manufacturing hub to China may become more attractive if European protectionism increases, but this would also reflect a more fragmented global trading system.
Germany's transition from Beijing's steadiest European ally to a sceptical partner represents more than a minor diplomatic adjustment. It reflects the grinding reality that economic integration with an autocratic state pursuing state-directed industrial policy generates winners and losers, and that Germany's manufacturing heartland has been decisively placed in the latter category. When corporations that lobbied for decades against trade intervention suddenly reverse course, and when mainstream voters across the political spectrum embrace scepticism, policymakers face a narrowing window before political pressure forces their hand.
