My German colleagues regularly ask me how the Philippines reacts to Germany’s current problems. Whether people here are concerned. What they think.
My answer is always the same: What problems do you mean, exactly?
That’s not meant to be cheeky. It’s simply the reality here.
We Germans have a strange self-image. Every coalition crisis feels like an earthquake. Every foreign policy statement like a historic turning point. Every ministerial resignation like a global event.
I live here now, I read local media, I talk to people from all walks of life — and I’m telling you: nobody cares.
Germany appears in Philippine news as a brief item. Factual, boring, without any debate. Diplomatic language is adopted one-to-one. No analysis, no opinion, no interest.
We are a trading partner. An investor. A country that provides development aid. That’s acknowledged, sure. But relevant in world politics? Here in the Indo-Pacific, where the US, China, Japan, and Australia are the real powers? We simply don’t play a part.
And that shows everywhere — in politics, in the military, in the way we’re reported on.
Take German foreign policy. In Berlin, every diplomatic initiative is sold as significant. We position ourselves, we admonish, we demand, we condemn.
Almost none of it reaches here. If anything, it’s a footnote. “Germany supports rules-based order” — nice, thanks, moving on.
The same applies to all the military announcements of recent years. “Germany shows presence in the Indo-Pacific.” Sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Early 2025 brought another such headline — cooperation here, partnership there.
As a former Navy serviceman, I have to laugh. The material situation is catastrophic, personnel is lacking everywhere, procurement takes decades. Send a ship to the Pacific? The logistics chain for that doesn’t exist. And when one actually arrives, it’s a photo op — not power projection.
The Philippines politely takes note of such reports. But nobody seriously expects Germany to accomplish anything here. Nobody counts on us. And honestly: that’s also realistic.
It gets interesting when the perspective is reversed. When it’s not us judging others, but others judging us.
Germany is increasingly criticized internationally for its restrictions on freedom of speech. Most loudly by the Trump administration, but far from exclusively. I can already hear the indignant snorts in German living rooms. They’re going to criticize us? Them?
But let’s be honest: look at it from the outside.
NetzDG. Platform regulation. Criminal speech offenses that would be perfectly legal in many other democracies. What we sell as “protection from hate” looks suspiciously like state control from a distance.
I’m not saying the criticism is justified in every respect. But I am saying: it doesn’t come from nowhere. And this reflexive “They can’t criticize us!” reveals exactly the problem. We consider ourselves the moral gold standard. But we’re not. At least not from the rest of the world’s perspective.
If Germany makes any impression here at all, it’s economic. That’s the one field where the German name still means something.
German engineering, reliability, quality — that has a good ring to it. German companies create jobs, train people, bring standards. That’s appreciated, that’s real.
But I’m genuinely worried.
The German economy is dying. That’s not an exaggeration and it’s not alarmism. Energy costs are exploding, bureaucracy is suffocating everything, digitalization is a foreign word, political leadership is completely absent. Large corporations are relocating abroad. The Mittelstand is fighting for bare survival.
For countries like the Philippines, that means in the short term: more outsourcing, more jobs here. German companies are saving what can be saved by moving to “low-wage countries.” Sounds good for the people here at first.
But that doesn’t change the underlying problem. Germany’s industrial base is crumbling. And when the substance is gone, the reputation will disappear too. Because it’s not based on marketing — it’s based on real performance. On products that work. On companies that deliver.
That’s eroding right now. And at some point, the people here will notice too.
The refugee debate, the heating law, coalition infighting, now the new government — for Germans, these feel like existential crises. Here, they’re about as relevant as Polish domestic politics to the average German.
Not at all.
Unless it directly affects Filipinos. Visa chaos, work permits, family reunification, skilled worker immigration — that’s where German bureaucracy suddenly becomes very real and very frustrating. But the grand ideological battles being fought in Berlin? Nobody here cares.
Seen from the outside, Germany appears stable, wealthy, technically competent. Polite in diplomatic dealings. Politically irrelevant. Militarily not to be taken seriously.
That’s not an insult. It’s a sober assessment from someone who knows both sides.
Maybe I’m wrong. But that’s what I see from here. And sometimes, when I explain German peculiarities to my Filipino family, I feel a touch of secondhand embarrassment. For this feeling that we always know better. That the world is watching us. That we matter.
Maybe we should finally accept it. Fewer moral lectures to the world. Less outrage when others criticize us. Less fuss about our own importance.
Instead: solve our own problems. Get our own house in order. We have more than enough of those.
Then maybe we’d have something to show again that actually interests others.
So when they ask me next time how the Philippines reacts to Germany’s problems, I’ll tell them exactly this:
It doesn’t. Because nobody here cares. Because we’re not as important as we think.
I’ve suspected this for a long time. Now I’m just confirmed in it every day.
© 2026 Xalor. All rights reserved.
December 17, 2025 
carl-hirndrehe 