Quiet is Scholz's hallmark trait.

A reserved man who, as his biographer Lars Haider puts it, "deliberately does not answer questions directly," Scholz has yet to find his political rise impeded by his apparent reluctance to explain himself.

But in this moment of historic crisis, when the future not just of Ukraine but of the entire European order hangs in the balance, his subsequent reticence has inflamed critics at home and abroad, turning the expectations raised by the Zeitenwende speech to widespread frustration.

When it comes to military and financial aid, the international perception has been that Europe's largest economy is shirking its responsibilities at a time when smaller nations, from Poland to Estonia, are stepping up to provide hefty donations of money and weapons.

It was only on April 26, after weeks of conflicting deflections, that Scholz answered Ukraine's pleas and agreed to send heavy weapons directly.

And then there is the matter of imported Russian oil and gas.

Not even the killing of hundreds of civilians in Bucha or the brutal siege of Mariupol-which Scholz calls "immoral crimes"-have persuaded the Chancellor to implement an immediate embargo on Russian fossil fuels.

Now that Gepard tanks will be rolling across Ukraine-a rare delivery of heavy weapons systems from a Western nation's own stockpile-the decision is being cast by many as the Chancellor caving to criticism from allies.

But when he spoke with TIME four days earlier, Scholz seemed immune to pressure, calmly maintaining instead that he was committed to the promises of the Zeitenwende speech, was working as fast as possible in tandem with Germany's allies-and trying to avoid a dangerous escalation in hostilities.

In his view, he has been entrusted by the German people to lead based on what he believes-and not what polls say-is right for the country.