It was a sentence spoken with the nonchalance of a man who never had to wait in a basement for the end of a bombing raid. "That wasn't a great day for you." No smile, no hint of irony - just that sentence, cold as concrete, directed at Friedrich Merz, the German Chancellor, on the eve of June 6. Of all dates, the one marking the 81st anniversary of the Allied landing in Normandy - D-Day, synonymous with liberation, sacrifice, hope. What Donald Trump said at that table in the Oval Office was more than a diplomatic faux pas. It was a shift in the historical coordinate system. And Merz? Merz smiled.
The contrast could hardly be more brutal: while Trump - live on air - launched into a monologue about American domestic politics, Musk, migrants, and the media, Merz looked like a polite guest in an embassy long since closed. Ninety percent of the time, Trump spoke, observers said. Ninety percent of the time, the Chancellor stayed silent. And after the meeting? Merz said, "It was exceptionally good."
Who could possibly be surprised?
A president who - so it is said - is considering whether "maybe it's better if they fight a while longer," meaning: Russia and Ukraine. A man who openly shows sympathy for Putin's stance, who, during a small private dinner, allegedly asked whether Germany still believed wars could be won through moral posture. And then that sentence - "Not a great day for you" - a sentence that not only desecrates the remembrance of Europe's liberation but also the office he holds. Yet Friedrich Merz insisted, "I remain an incorrigible optimist when it comes to America." It's one of those phrases that sounds noble on paper, but in context feels hollow and helpless. Because what remains of the transatlantic foundation when one of the architects of the postwar order - the American president - sees history as a burden and Europe as a liability?
In the ARD Brennpunkt program, Merz spoke of a "good foundation for politically constructive discussions." But what does "constructive" mean when the host doesn’t listen? When a lunch behind closed doors becomes the canvas for a narrative that never happened? When the political outcome is reduced to Trump’s supposed willingness to compromise - and not to what was actually said?
Because a lot was said. Just not about Germany. Trump spoke of tariffs he wants to continue using as leverage. Of the sanctions package against Russia, which he is "still reviewing." Of "energy independence" - meaning: no deals with Europe, but deals with ExxonMobil. And of Elon Musk, whom he casually referred to as a "clown with rockets." Merz, in turn, spoke - on Fox News - of "imported antisemitism." A phrase that, even there, went unchallenged, because it fits the new ideological climate: clear, reductive, pliable. But it reveals a pattern: the chancellor known in Germany for his sharp remarks presented himself in Washington as tame, almost submissive. Out of fear of slamming a door shut - or out of fear of never finding another open?
And still - the tone of the post-meeting narrative was euphoric. A chancellor who stood beside Trump with folded arms later spoke of "great signals" and a "functioning American democracy." The same democracy Trump is currently bypassing with executive orders, loyalty tests in the White House, and attacks on courts, media, and universities. The same democracy that no longer allows reporters from Reuters and ProPublica into press briefings because they ask the wrong questions.
The question remains: Is Friedrich Merz naïve? Or is he playing a game others have long since stopped playing? While Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky and South African President Cyril Ramaphosa were recently humiliated on camera, Merz remained quietly deferential. And Trump? Supposedly, he listened to him - once. Briefly
Maybe that’s the new standard for “good conversations.
In a ZDF interview, Merz said he was returning with the feeling that "the forces that want a free society are still strong." But the president he praises is long on a different path. A path in which D-Day is no longer a day of liberation - but a "bad day for you." For us. For everyone who believes that remembrance is more than decoration. Because what remains when a chancellor sells as success what others recognize as danger? What if diplomacy turns into self-denial? And what if even the sharpest analysis is useless - when the will to maintain illusion is stronger than the ability to see reality?
Maybe for Trump it truly wasn’t “a great day.” But for Europe, it was a bad one. A very bad one. And the worst part: it was accompanied by polite silence.
Fragen über Fragen.
(unsortiert)
1. Wie definiert er denn “freie Gesellschaft?”
3. Ist es (nur) die Abhängigkeit (Wirtschaft, NATO), oder ist es doch eine gewisse Faszination..?
4. Ist Trump nicht nur deshalb groß, weil man ihm das zugesteht?
2. Ist eine gewisse Mitschuld am Zerfall dieser Demokratie erkennbar (und womöglich auch Mitschuld am Zerfall weiterer Demokratien), wenn man eben diesen Zerfall nicht klar benennt?