"No Ideological Luxury": Calling for an Evaluation of Germany's Feminist Foreign Policy
The German push for feminist foreign policy (FFP) had hardly been launched in 2023 when the Federal Foreign Office pulled the program. The new conservative Foreign Minister Johann Wadephul’s message was clear: FFP was a well-intentioned but unnecessary experiment that has no place in a time of major conflicts.
But before we go back to “business as usual,” a critical stocktaking of FFP is in order. After all, the half-hearted introduction of feminist foreign policy resulted in grievances on two sides. Feminist partners working with the government pointed out missed opportunities for real policy change (regarding Gaza or immigration policy, for example), while for conservatives and others who were unconvinced of the added value of feminist foreign policy from the get-go, FFP came across as mere ideological symbolism.
There is a real risk that an evaluation of Germany’s feminist foreign policy will play out along the lines of predetermined political beliefs. But avoiding the evaluation altogether would mean throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Central questions, relevant for future policymaking, remain unanswered: What success was achieved? What types of resistance did FFP face? Are there certain elements of the program the German government might continue to build on, even after doing away with the polarizing name? And to what extent are there positive side effects to FFP that could be strategically relevant for a largely conservative government?
Although academia and civil society have critically monitored German FFP since its inception, what is missing is a comprehensive evaluation with deep insight into the Federal Foreign Office’s headquarters. Such an evaluation would be of mutual interest to both feminists pushing for FFP and the new federal government.
What would such an evaluation look like? It should start by looking inwards. In the early days, German feminist foreign policy formulated noble goals for itself. The Federal Foreign Office was to become more diverse, equitable and open. Despite the ministry’s initial aspiration to reflect German society in all its multiplicity, voices from many communities (queer/Black/PoC/disabled communities, women (writ large), East Germans) remained underrepresented. This lack of diversity is echoed by the dwindling numbers of applications to the Foreign Service: fewer and fewer people can imagine themselves working in such a rigid, fossilized organization.
In other words, even in a post-FFP era, the Federal Foreign Office simply cannot afford to neglect thoroughly overhauling its working structures. After all, an inclusive and representative Foreign Service would not only be more effective, it would strengthen Germany’s credibility when promoting equality across the globe – crucial if Germany wants to retain its current leadership role in this field. The country would do well to evaluate which reform measures have been initiated and which have stalled.
Another reason to critically assess FFP would simply be that other countries have long done so. It would be a shame for Germany to lag behind. A Swedish study, for example, has gleaned important insights from its past FFP for its current policy, including the learning that Sweden’s feminist foreign policy has significantly strengthened its influence in the international promotion of gender equality. After Sweden abolished its feminist foreign policy in 2022, Germany picked up the baton and became the leader in FFP, thereby also taking on the responsibility and global influence that comes with this leadership (particularly in the context of the United Nations). Now that Germany has abandoned FFP, the question arises: Will we lose that leadership role again? An evaluation of German feminist foreign policy could provide an answer – and more fundamentally, it could examine the positive effects of the feminist foreign policy for Germany.
An unexpected side effect of the policy: closer relationships with countries that are outside of the traditional focus of German foreign policy, including Mongolia, Colombia and Panama. This has led to tangible successes in areas beyond FFP. In the Ulaanbaatar Declaration, for example, Mongolia accepted the inclusion of a sentence condemning Russia’s war against Ukraine, after the country had previously abstained from voting on the war of aggression in the United Nations General Assembly. And Colombia and Panama appear to have become more important partners for climate protection and green energy, at least in rhetoric.
The challenges, impediments and pushbacks to FFP should also be evaluated. The aforementioned Swedish study also shows that Swedish FFP led to greater tensions with conservative groups, both domestically and abroad. These tensions have also been observed in Germany. Has this slowed down the implementation of feminist foreign policy? And how did the Federal Foreign Office make decisions when feminist and other foreign policy interests collided? Was there a clear line? The Foreign Office should urgently assess what tools (if at all) FFP developed to navigate these areas of tension.
What remains clear, though, is that Wadephul’s return to “the big conflicts” at the exclusion of FFP is deeply mistaken. It fails to recognize that gendered power relations are an essential part of the logic of these very conflicts. Moscow justifies its attack on Ukraine as a defensive struggle against the supposedly decadent “Gayropa,” Trump’s anti-feminist entourage is dismantling the rule-based world order in real time and chauvinist forces throughout the EU are strategically planning to overthrow it. Those who want to do away with the label of feminist foreign policy can do so – but analytical and political engagement with gender dynamics will, without a doubt, remain central to foreign policy.
Individual departments of the Federal Foreign Office have already noted this dynamic, commissioning an external report to examine the impact and costs of feminist foreign policy in their silo-ed area of responsibility (namely: arms control). This initiative is very welcome, but also risks becoming a symptom of a typical German foreign policy deficit. If each department takes stock individually, it remains unclear how the different elements of feminist foreign policy interacted, which trade-offs arose and which synergies were not capitalized on. German foreign policy’s strategic capability – frequently invoked – would suffer severely under such fragmentation. A holistic evaluation of German feminist foreign policy would therefore be more than just an internal performance review. It would be a unique opportunity to better understand how department-wide transformation processes work and why they fail.
An independent and comprehensive evaluation of feminist foreign policy is not an ideological luxury, but a strategic necessity. Only an evaluation could show where feminist approaches were able to set foreign policy agendas, deepen alliances and help invigorate the internal workings of the Foreign Office – and where they fell short of their aspirations. Those who refuse to take stock risk that Germany’s foreign policy will soon be “back to normal” without having learned from the past few years.
This commentary was originally published in German in the print version of taz, on May 26, 2025.
