After four weeks of exploratory talks between the centre-right parties led by Angela Merkel failed to find enough common ground with the Greens and the Free Democratic Party (FDP) to begin formal negotiations on a coalition government, dismayed Germans have found themselves back at square one.

The talks followed the poor performance of Merkel’s Christian Democratic Union (CDU) in the 24 September federal election, where it gained just 32.9% of the vote. Merkel was expected to be able to sit down with the CDU’s Bavarian sister party, the Christian Social Union, to negotiate a coalition arrangement with the FDP, Germany’s economic liberals, and the Greens.

When the FDP walked out of the talks late on Sunday night, it became clear that the next government would not be formed by what was dubbed the ‘Jamaica’ coalition of CDU, CSU, the Greens and FDP—the parties’ colours resemble the island state’s flag. The main (and pretty much only) explanation provided by FDP leader Christian Lindner was that his party sensed a ‘lack of trust’ in the negotiations. Consequently, he said, the liberals preferred to not govern at all rather than to govern the ‘wrong way’.

The main issues of disagreement were climate change and refugee policy. The viewpoints differ significantly: the CSU wants to cut back on migration and the Greens argue against limiting the family reunification program. An initial deadline was extended from Friday to Sunday when, at 13 minutes to midnight, Lindner announced to the media that he was quitting the talks. The FDP’s approach was sharply criticised after it emerged that Lindner had not alerted the other parties in the talks before he told the media. The CDU and Greens delegations watched, in shock, as the FDP made its decision known on television. After seeing four weeks of exploratory talks going nowhere, an increasingly concerned German public might have expected a joint announcement from all of the parties involved.

The FDP’s strategy is curious. In the 2013 elections, the party failed to reach the threshold of 5% of the vote necessary to enter parliament for the first time in its history and therefore missed out on any seats. It bounced back in the latest election with 10.6% of the vote and had just returned to parliament. Quitting the talks might backfire on the FDP; 32% of those who responded to a recent poll blamed it for the failure of the talks.

So, what happens next? There appear to be three possibilities:

• A grand coalition between CDU and the Social-Democratic Party (SPD). This appears unlikely as the SPD ruled out on election night any further coalition with the CDU and the CSU. SPD leader Martin Schulz has reconfirmed that position since the elections.
• Minority government. The parliament could elect Angela Merkel as chancellor, accepting that her CDU would govern in a minority coalition. If Merkel cannot get sufficient support to become chancellor, President Steinmeier will need to dissolve parliament and schedule new elections in January following a lengthy and complicated process under Article 63 of the constitution. He theoretically also has the option to do that if Merkel is elected chancellor and he doesn’t want to make her chancellor of a minority government.
• New elections? That would be a first for the federal republic. It could be the end of Merkel’s time as chancellor—though she announced she would serve again as a candidate and most Germans would support She also has no clear replacement as party leader.

Germany has never had a minority federal government. In general, its people prefer stability and are sceptical of minority government and the constant lobbying it brings to decision-making. Some of the states do have experience with minority governments, but at a federal level it would be up to the opposition to demonstrate that it would be willing to compromise to prevent the political system grinding to a halt.

Minority government could lead to a more vibrant democracy. The need to constantly communicate, to exchange opinions and to compromise could make parties develop clearer positions on issues to highlight differences. It could also encourage discussion between parties, and (re-)train politicians in a healthy democratic culture of debate. The lack of such a culture has been identified by many who opted to vote against the ‘establishment’. One of the main issues in recent years has been a blurring of policy lines, with many established parties sharing positions and opinions.

A fresh election would most likely also see the right-wing populist Alternative for Germany gain even more support. It’s likely to make much of the failure of the talks to back its claim that the time of the established parties is over. Apart from that, there’s no guarantee that there will be more options for coalitions after the new elections than there are now. The only difference then could be that the SPD won’t block a ‘grand coalition’, or that a coalition of SPD, Greens and Left Party would gain a majority.

Merkel has not ruled out a minority government, but she’s clearly stated that she prefers to have new elections. Nearly two-thirds of Germans agree. No matter which path is chosen in the end, it’s worrying, particularly around Europe, that Germany is tumbling.

Germans have voted to keep Angela Merkel as chancellor, and expressed deep unhappiness about her Christian Democrat Union/Christian Social Union (CDU/CSU) – Social Democrat (SPD) coalition government. The SPD, the party of former chancellors Willy Brandt and Helmut Schmidt, was relegated to also-ran status, suffering its worst result since 1949. Frustrated with both parties, Germans also transferred their votes to smaller parties, especially the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD), which gained its first seats in the Bundestag and is now the third-largest party in the German parliament.

Merkel’s CDU/CSU remains the largest party in the Bundestag, but its vote dropped by 8%, from over 41% at the last elections to just 33%, falling well short of a majority. As the largest party, it is entitled to form government again, with Merkel as chancellor.

The CDU/CSU was left with only two options to create a Bundestag majority: either enter another grand coalition with the SPD, which would produce a majority of about 40, or pursue a coalition with two minor parties, the Greens and the Free Democrats (FDP), which would mean a majority of around 30.

Mathematically, there are no other alternatives. Both the CDU/CSU and the second-placed SPD have already ruled out a coalition of any sort with the AfD.

The failed SPD chancellor candidate, Martin Schulz, has ruled out a further grand coalition with the CDU/CSU—which isn’t much of a surprise given the SPD’s appalling poll result. Most members of the SPD will blame their party’s decision in 2013 to hop into bed with the CDU/CSU as the source of the SPD’s decline. Many would prefer a period of rejuvenation in opposition. But it’s early days yet and Merkel will certainly at least float the prospect with the SPD, even if it is then rejected.

So that leaves the so-called ‘Jamaica’ coalition option, named after the colours of Jamaica’s flag. That would involve the CDU/CSU (party colour black) forming a coalition with the Greens (party colour green) and the FDP (party colour yellow). This option is not as far-fetched as it sounds. The CDU/CSU is already in a coalition with the Greens in the state of Baden-Württemberg, for example. And the FDP was the CDU/CSU’s coalition partner in government under Merkel until 2013, when it failed to clear the 5% hurdle for representation in the Bundestag.

But the trick will be to bring all three parties together in ‘Jamaica’. The Germans usually take ages to build coalitions after elections—it took over 12 weeks to get the grand coalition up and running in 2013—and this one could break all records. There are some fundamental differences to be addressed among the three parties (over Europe, the environment and refugee policy, for example), and the Greens and the FDP understand very well that they have Merkel and the CDU/CSU over a barrel: Merkel needs both the Greens and the FDP to gain a governing majority.

The FDP has reinvented itself and will have around 78 seats in the next Bundestag. It has traditionally been a very pro-business party with an outlook that is often compatible with that of the CDU/CSU conservatives. But, under its new party leader (Christian Lindner), the FDP has become more Euro-sceptical and hard line on the asylum-seeker problem.

The Greens (67 seats provisionally) have moved much more to the centre of German politics and are closer to Merkel’s CDU/CSU on issues like Europe.

There’s no guarantee that the Greens and the FDP will get along in government, let alone with the CDU/CSU. But try Frau Merkel must. And, of course, there will be many within the CDU/CSU who will blame the huge drop in the CDU/CSU’s vote since 2013, and the AfD’s large gains, on Merkel’s approach to asylum-seekers and demand a much tougher line from her government.

We’ll have to wait and see how the coalition negotiations go and what policies and (significant) compromises the eventual coalition agreement contains before we can make any sensible assessment of what the new Merkel-led government will mean more broadly for Europe (including building the new European Union and negotiating its approach to Brexit) and the West. But it’s clear that the 2017 election result has been damaging for brand Merkel. However, there’s little doubt that the continuity, stability and common sense that four more years of Chancellor Merkel will bring is unequivocally a good thing for Germany—and probably for us all.

A final word on the AfD, which is what the media is focusing on, almost to the exclusion of anything else. After sitting on about 9% for much of the campaign, a late surge as undecided voters made up their minds resulted in the AfD winning around 13% of the vote and about 98 seats in the Bundestag. It has built strongly, in particular, on its very high support in the eastern part of Germany. This is a massive wake-up call for Germans and absolutely a bad thing for Germany and for Europe. In the remote likelihood that the SPD were to join another grand coalition, the AfD, as the third-largest party, would formally be the leader of the opposition, with all the status that brings.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What the outcome means is that 87% of Germans who voted didn’t vote for the AfD, and none of the other large parties in the Bundestag is prepared to enter a coalition with it.

And remember, against this, that Marine Le Pen got almost 34% of the vote in the run-off against President Macron in France, and there are already populist/nationalist governments in Poland and Hungary. Also, opinion polling ahead of Italy’s elections, which are scheduled for 2018 but might be much sooner, suggests that populist parties, in coalition with others on the right, could have a majority. Taken together, these developments are more worth worrying about, at least for now, than the AfD.

The bottom line for Australia out of all this (in the short term, anyway) is that Angela Merkel will be chancellor again, and that is positive. Germany will remain the most important country and largest economy in the EU and it is absolutely in our interests to develop the closest possible relationship we can with Chancellor Merkel and her eventual government.

Among the flood of centenary anniversaries and commemorations, one that slipped past without comment was the destruction of the German cruiser Konigsberg in East Africa on 11 July 1915. Although less well-known than her sister raider Emden, Konigsberg managed to survive for eight months longer. By then, she was the last of the original batch of warships and armed merchant cruisers that Germany expected to implement plans for commerce warfare in the Indo-Pacific.

One of the most ill-considered myths surrounding Australia’s Great War involvement suggests that it was a war of choice. Yet, no matter how distant from European affairs we may have seemed, Britain’s enemies had no inclination to view the self-governing dominions as anything but legitimate targets; if not critical in their own right, then useful for applying pressure on the motherland. Like Britain, Australia’s economy remained entirely dependent upon the free movement of its overseas trade. Rendered secure from direct assault by our geographic isolation, only at sea did we face a credible threat.

Few Australians today are aware that Germany once maintained a potent cruiser squadron permanently in East Asian waters. Commanded by Vice Admiral Maximilian von Spee, the squadron had its primary base at Tsingtao within China’s German concession, but roamed widely. Indeed, its units coaled routinely at Rabaul, the capital of German New Guinea and just 1,000 miles from Australia’s coast. In wartime, von Spee could also call on a number of smaller gunboats and several converted merchant ships.

Theoretically, a successful war against trade could cripple the British Empire more quickly than operations on land, and since at least 1900 the Germans had been envisioning a campaign of what they termed ‘Cruiser Warfare’ on the Empire’s periphery. By March 1914 the orders issued to von Spee were clear:

The main objective of all operations is to inflict damage on English trade. Besides the respective strengths and locations of the two armed forces, the initiation and implementation of operations depend predominantly on securing adequate coal supplies. This must therefore be a decisive factor in the choice of a suitable operation area. The ability to depart quickly will force the enemy to search and thus lead to fragmentation of his forces. This will create opportunities to score tactical successes against enemy elements.

By August, the German squadron’s designated priorities were to attack shipping focal areas in the Arabian Sea and off Australia. Had von Spee maintained his freedom of movement, the results could have been disastrous; potentially strangling Allied sea communications and rendering the combined resources of Australia, New Zealand, India and the smaller British colonies strategically irrelevant.

Instead, the German commander faced a situation where superior Allied naval forces prevented him from remaining in the northern Pacific, moving west into the Indian Ocean or south into the Tasman Sea. Only by proceeding east across the Pacific did he hold some chance of obtaining logistic support from neutral territories. It meant the temporary abandonment of cruiser warfare by his main force, but von Spee detached one light cruiser, Emden, to join with Konigsberg, which was already operating off East Africa.

The Germany Admiralty’s preoccupation with European waters played a large part in restricting von Spee’s resources and hence his options, but so too did Australia’s 1909 decision to acquire an effective ocean-going fleet. Even alone, the flagship, HMAS Australia, was powerful enough to defeat the German squadron, but acting together the fleet provided both effective deterrence and a flexible means of maritime power projection. Within days of the war’s outbreak, Australia’s navy had embarked on a succession of wide-ranging and interlocking operations designed to deny von Spee potential bases, disrupt his coal supplies and destroy his wireless communications.

Australian defence planning had never envisaged the complexities of multi-national command, operational sequencing and long-range sustainment that such a maritime campaign entailed. But that it could be completed successfully, owed much to the high level of professionalism inherent to naval training and the fortunate emergence of a remarkably modern conception of naval warfare; one of independent, self-contained and adaptable task-force operations.

By December 1914, the Allies had seen all German possessions in the South Pacific occupied, most enemy auxiliary vessels interned or scuttled, Emden destroyed by HMAS Sydney and von Spee’s elimination almost inevitable. Six separate Allied naval formations were either converging on his position or sealing off his escape into another theatre. Of these, the two most important were a combined Anglo-Japanese force centred on Australia, sailing south along the west coast of South America, and a British squadron mirroring this movement off Argentina. On 10 December, it fell to the latter force to defeat von Spee off the Falkland Islands.

With the German threat essentially removed from the Pacific, the path was clear to redistribute Allied naval forces to areas of greater need. Australia’s major units thereafter proceeded to the West Indies and North Sea, but the small cruiser HMAS Pioneer deployed to East Africa. Here Konigsberg had just been found hiding in the shallow delta of the Rufiji River.

Although her raiding career had been disappointing in comparison with Emden’s, as a force-in-being Konigsberg’s achievements could hardly have been bettered. For almost a year she soaked up the attentions of up to 25 Allied warships and dashed British hopes for the early conquest of German East Africa. Konigsberg’s demise eventually required the use of specialised vessels, with Pioneer providing suppressive fire against enemy positions ashore.

That Australia was spared direct attacks in 1914–15 came down to a combination of German strategic ineptitude and timely recognition by our politicians of where the nation’s strategic vulnerabilities lay. Emden’s successes against merchant traffic, demonstrated what might have been achieved and as one British admiral soon admitted, ‘…we should from the first have controlled the waters of the Pacific and Indian Oceans …It is the existence of the Australian Squadron that has saved the situation.’

A century later Australia remains a maritime nation and just as dependent upon the sea for our economic wellbeing and physical security. Yet, the potential challenges to our oceanic wealth and connections have become far more varied and complex than in 1914. How best we should manage these threats is a question that receives far too little attention in our strategic discourse.