Comment: Saskia Esken was made the scapegoat of her party – that is insidious

No one ever really liked her – not in the parliamentary group, not at the grassroots level, and certainly not on talk shows when she would calmly explain the world to the world, wearing a leather jacket and a pair of colorful sneakers she'd bought in San Francisco. Many in the SPD quipped: "If she opens her mouth, the SPD will lose numerous members again."

Saskia Esken wasn't someone who shone with charisma or even captured the hearts of voters. Instead, unlike her co-chair, Lars Klingbeil, she often came across as the know-it-all admonisher on a school trip, who wants to ban everyone from drinking soda after 8 p.m. – out of principle, not conviction. And then she stoically clung to the party leadership – like glue on chipboard, defiant and resistant to advice. Nothing could stop her.

But no matter how questionable her performance was, what the SPD is now doing with Saskia Esken is the lowest of the low. They're single-handedly making her the lightning rod and scapegoat for the complete failure of the traffic light coalition, as if she had personally ruined the heating plans, drilled holes in the budget, and caused the migration chaos. A transparent stunt: cheap, cowardly, typical of a backroom SPD.

Since the botched federal election in February of this year, in which the SPD received only 16.4 percent, Esken has been on her way to political no-man's-land. Her Pattex phase – that desperate clinging to office and influence, and essentially political survival in the SPD's shark tank – is over. Her own state association, Baden-Württemberg, no longer wants her – not even for the federal executive board. And her own attempt to become Minister for Development Aid: Even that is no longer enough. The party reacted with annoyed eye-rolls, at best with pitying ridicule. Bärbel Bas is already being touted as a successor at the party leadership.

Klingbeil blossoms, Esken crashes: What's behind it

Meanwhile, her co-leader, Lars Klingbeil, is blossoming. With his mother-in-law's smile and the voice of an elevator radio, he may have shared responsibility for the same election flop—but so what? The party forgives him, at least. Klingbeil is now being hyped up as a potential vice chancellor, a puppet master, a power architect—that's all it takes.

Esken, on the other hand, is the scapegoat for everything. And no one contradicts her. There is no outcry, no final word of solidarity, not even a symbolic "thank you." Instead: icy silence. And if there are, only watered-down comments: She is renouncing a ministerial post. A sentence straight out of PR hell, meant to create the impression that a deserving comrade is voluntarily stepping aside – unpretentious, unselfish, magnanimous. But a closer look reveals: It wasn't a resignation, it was a dismissal. On top of that, the wording sounds like something from an application letter for a volunteer position at a community college. In truth, the departure is a disempowerment that was announced. And a rather cowardly one at that.

Let's face it: Esken was never the party's darling, but she was also never primarily responsible for the disaster of the traffic light coalition government. During the traffic light coalition, Scholz and Klingbeil set the agenda, not her. Klingbeil, the far more articulate communicator, was able to develop into a strong man – someone who consolidates power in the background, cultivates networks, and finds a listening ear with Scholz and now also with future Chancellor Friedrich Merz . That he kept his own party in a kind of loyal coma for years while the government teetered between the traffic light coalition dispute and a loss of profile – no big deal. He was always in the shadows just in time when things got uncomfortable – and now he's ready for the spotlight.

Saskia Esken: Demonstrated, abandoned, discarded, disposed of

The fact that Saskia Esken is now being branded as the sole culprit for the entire traffic light debacle and chased out of power is therefore very one-sided. A cheap diversionary tactic. Esken is being presented as a pawn, abandoned, discarded, and disposed of.

Even within the parliamentary group, there's apparently no room left – it's set to be led by General Secretary Matthias Miersch , a textbook apparatchik. A functionary with a familiarity with the party's reputation, who, in terms of unpopularity, can certainly give Esken a run for his money – except that he gets along better with Klingbeil. And that's apparently enough these days to stay on top in the power game.

The party leader's only option is to exit through the back door. That she, of all people, who was never loved but always criticized for her principles, is now paying the price for policies she was never truly able to control is a bitter footnote in the history of the SPD. It could have been a clean exit, statesmanlike, harmonious, and as quiet as possible. In any case, what Esken still has left is a seat in the Bundestag.