End of Kühnert’s career: What destroys politicians in Germany

It was a hot August day in Erfurt, over 30 degrees Celsius. The General Secretary of the Social Democratic Party of Germany wore shorts, had his shirt sleeves rolled up and was taking large sips from a water bottle at irregular intervals.

But the precautions didn’t help much. Kevin Kühnert’s head shone dangerously red in the sun as he agitated tirelessly against the extremism of the AfD and the populism of the BSW. Finally he shouted: “Choose boredom!” He meant his party.

I had made myself comfortable on the edge of the square, under the umbrella of a café, and was sipping an ice-cold Cola Zero. I listened to Kühnert’s wooing and looked at the local representative who was standing next to the general secretary. The poor man knew very well that with his 11th place on the list he would never be a member of the next Thuringian state parliament. But he still bravely campaigned for his SPD.

At this point, with only a few days left until the state elections, it did not even seem certain that the party would even remain in parliament. As in Saxony, where elections were taking place at the same time, the SPD was dangerously approaching the 5 percent death zone in the polls, while the AfD and BSW were moving side by side towards the majority.

So the scene at Erfurt’s Wenigemarkt felt like the euthanasia of Germany’s oldest party. Of the few people who listened to Kühnert in the heat, it was unclear why they had stopped. Because of him? Or rather because of the free bratwursts on the grill next to him?

At that moment, in the shade of my parasol, I gained respect for the perseverance slogans of the perseverance politician Kühnert, who had already held several similar appointments in Thuringia. He didn’t notice that he wasn’t feeling well even back then. He functioned as a top politician should function in a 21st century democracy, seven days a week, twelve to 16 hours a day.

Until it stopped working.

Kühnert’s career ended at 35

After the SPD had just made it back into the state parliaments in Saxony and Thuringia and a little later, in Brandenburg, the AfD was narrowly defeated, Kühnert resigned. His career ended at the age of 35. For health reasons, as he said.

I only knew Kühnert from a few public meetings and from two or three short interviews. But after reading the news of the resignation, digesting the novelty, and yes, that too, engaging in a few unnecessary speculations, I felt something I increasingly feel when politicians become seriously ill or abruptly quit.

It’s not a bad conscience – that would be the wrong term for it – but rather an involuntary admission of professional responsibility. Because I, too, contribute to the relentless 24-hour cycle through constant inquiries, reports and comments, which not least puts a strain on myself and my profession. And I help shape the precarious external image of politics.

Of course, it’s true that this business often works as dirty and brutal as the common stereotypes say. It’s all about ambition, vanity and influence. But at least as often, and in parallel, it is about the desire to solve problems and do things better.

The urge for power and the will to shape things: Even the economist Joseph Schumpeter, himself a politician, knew that one is worth little without the other, that both belong together. The idea that politicians should only be selfless servants of the people is not only out of touch with life, but fatal.

A doctor doesn’t just want to heal people and an engineer doesn’t just want to design machines. They want to make a living, achieve a certain status, strengthen their self-esteem and, if this is possible, give meaning to their own existence.

Something has changed in this country

Of course, I also meet people in politics who take advantage of their privileges or rest on their laurels. But I see more people trying to fulfill their role, be it full-time or voluntary, as a local councilor or cabinet member, as a parliamentarian or head of government, as a district administrator or federal president.

By the way, most of them work significantly more than I do. And they have significantly more responsibility, although they usually don’t even know what will happen to them after the next election.

I don’t want to spread pity or let journalists’ tears fall. There has always been a high price to pay for the privilege of creative power. And in a democracy, at least that price is not your own existence.

Or?

Something has changed in this country, qualitatively and quantitatively. Nobody needs the next Martin Schulz interview to gain this insight. The increasing work pressure leads to burnout. Constant availability destroys families. The increasing attacks produce fear.

Death threats have now become almost commonplace. And violence is becoming more and more real, both psychological and physical.

That has consequences. It’s not just about politicians who resign out of exhaustion or frustration. It’s about those who are sickened by the business or who gradually give up. And it’s about those who don’t even run, who will never run, for the city council, the parliament, the party executive.

And the way social problems often behave in this republic affects East Germany in particular. There are fewer and fewer people living there and older people who, as we know, are reluctant to join political parties since they are no longer forced to do so. At the same time, there is greater contempt for politics and greater aggression.

There are reasons and explanations for this, but I don’t want to repeat them here. Especially since they do very little to help those who still get involved.

But questions remain. Who wants to make impossible coalitions possible in the East because a country has to be governed? allow yourself to be insulted in marketplaces and have constant debates about envy? Who else wants to become a politician here? Who else wants to put themselves through this, apart from extremists, populists or other charlatans?

I don’t have any answers, just a tentative attempt at an answer. Maybe we should all, to embellish Kevin Kühnert’s sentence with a bit of Willy Brandt: dare to be more bored.