贸易失衡下的握手：默茨访华与德国工业的焦虑

When Friedrich Merz's plane pierced through the clouds and slowly descended at Beijing Capital International Airport, this new German Chancellor was perhaps facing the most delicate and thorny moment in decades of Sino-German relations.

That handshake inside the Great Hall of the People, amid the flash of cameras, seemed especially laden with meaning, because behind this diplomatic courtesy lay a trade chasm that has been keeping Berlin awake at night.

On the eve of Merz's departure, the alarm bells from the German business community were already deafening — one might even call them ear-splitting.

The latest data published by the Federal Statistical Office landed like a bucket of cold water on the German economic community: last year, Germany's imports from China were nearly double its exports to China.

This alarming trade deficit is no longer merely a numbers game in statistics — it is now seen as the structural agony being endured by Germany, Europe's largest economy.

Let's turn our attention to the specific figures: in 2025, goods worth 170.6 billion euros flooded into the German market like a tide, with a year-on-year growth rate of 8.8%, and at the same time,

German exports to China shrank by nearly 10%, falling to 81.3 billion euros.

The widening of this scissors gap is triggering an existential crisis about the future of German industry.

Jürgen Matthes, an expert at the German Economic Institute, issued a stern warning, arguing that this trend is 'eroding the core of German industry,'

especially in those pillar industries that once made Germans beam with pride — automotive, mechanical engineering, and the chemical sector.

Matthes bluntly stated that this market distortion is mainly attributable to China's 'massive' subsidy policies and currency valuation issues.

In his view, the price advantage exhibited by Chinese companies cannot possibly stem solely from innovation and efficiency improvements — there are more complex non-market factors at play.

However, Beijing's response to these accusations has been consistent and firm: its subsidy policies are transparent, fully comply with international trade rules, and the RMB exchange rate is a floating mechanism based on market supply and demand.

This situation of each side sticking to its own story precisely reflects the deep-seated divergence in economic models between the world's two major trading powers.

Bruegel, the Brussels-based economic think tank, offered an interpretation from another perspective, arguing that this phenomenon — dubbed the 'new China shock' — is partly due to soaring production costs within Europe itself.

The lingering aftermath of the pandemic hadn't subsided before the energy crisis triggered by the Russia-Ukraine war followed in its wake, keeping European manufacturing costs stubbornly high.

Meanwhile, China is in a prolonged deflationary phase, where overinvestment in manufacturing has created enormous excess capacity, and these goods desperately seeking an outlet have naturally flowed toward the open European market.

For Merz, this is not merely an economic arithmetic problem, but a complex game of geopolitics.

At this moment, Europe finds itself in an unprecedented strategic squeeze: across the Atlantic, the shadow of former U.S. President Trump's tariff policies looms large; while in the East, China's powerful manufacturing capacity is reshaping global supply chains.

As Noah Barkin of the German Marshall Fund put it, "No European wants to deal with two trade wars simultaneously — one from the world's top superpower, the United States, and another from the second-largest economy, China."

This is the awkward predicament Merz faces on this visit: as a traditional free-trade supporter and staunch transatlanticist, his political instincts are colliding violently with the cruel realities of the global landscape.

The Federation of German Industries is pressuring him to send a clear signal on this first visit to China since taking office as Chancellor, addressing a series of thorny issues including competition distortions and rare earth export controls.

The German auto industry in particular — this once-glorious sector — is now stumbling on the road to electrification, forced to resort to layoffs to weather the winter, while China has already established a formidable dominant position in this field.

This anxiety reflects Germany's deep soul-searching about the diplomatic philosophy of 'change through trade' pursued over the past several decades.

The creed once held sacred during the Merkel era — that deepening economic ties would drive political and social change — now seems to have reached a dead end.

Merkel was controversial for allegedly shelving human rights concerns for economic interests, but it is undeniable that deep economic dependence had already taken shape, like deeply entangled old tree roots — trying to sever them would be not only painful

but potentially fatal.

Therefore, when we discuss the anti-dumping investigations launched by the EU or Brussels's attempts to protect domestic industries through tariff barriers, we must recognize that Europe's toolbox is actually quite limited.

Unlike the United States, which can wield the tariff stick flexibly and aggressively, attitudes toward trade protectionism within the EU remain deeply divided — France leans toward a protectionist agenda, while Germany, due to its enormous commercial interests in China, remains far more cautious.

Barkin hit the nail on the head: China needs markets to absorb its excess capacity, which theoretically gives Europe negotiating leverage — but how to use that leverage tests the wisdom of politicians.

In his final remarks before boarding the plane, Merz's statement was thought-provoking: he reaffirmed that Germany would continue its 'de-risking' policy, but also clearly emphasized that 'seeking to decouple from China would be a mistake.'

This statement is perhaps the truest reflection of Germany's current mindset: fearful of dependence, yet unable to bear the cost of separation.

In this game of balance, reliability, and fairness, Merz must not only face the Chinese leader across the negotiation table, but also respond to the mounting anxiety at home,

as well as the geopolitical appeal of urging China to use its influence over Moscow to end the war in Ukraine.

The enormous trade deficit hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles, constantly reminding this new Chancellor: the old era has ended, but a new equilibrium has yet to be established.

This is not merely about the buying and selling of cars or chemicals — this is about how a veteran industrial power redefines its position amid the violent tremors of the restructuring global economic map.

When the red carpet is rolled out in Beijing and both sides take their seats, the real contest has only just begun — and the outcome of all this will profoundly shape the Eurasian economic landscape for the next decade and beyond.