When Germany's Social Democratic Party (SPD) was last ousted from power, in 1982, many SPD politicians believed that their exile would be brief. Was not the new chancellor, Helmut Kohl, a simpleton, a national joke? This sentiment spread well beyond the ranks of Social Democrats; even the conservative Franz Josef Strauss of the Christian Social Union (CSU)-the wholly unprovincial leader of the Christian Democrat's (CDU) provincial sister party in Bavaria-felt nothing but scorn for Kohl.
But one Social Democrat saw things more clearly. Herbert Wehner, "chief whip" of the SPD parliamentary party and third in the legendary troika with Willy Brandt and Helmut Schmidt, famously growled: "This might last 15 years!" His daring prognosis was made a little more than 15 years ago, but the signs are that Kohl will not last much longer. Opinion polls show that the present coalition, an alliance between the CDU/CSU and the liberal Free Democrats, stands little chance of being re-elected on 27th September.
This should be sufficient reason for the German left to walk with a spring in its step. Yet there is little excitement at the anticipation of power, within or outside the SPD. What's up with the German left? Almost all German voters, including many traditional Christian Democrat voters, agree that it is time for a change. But change in which direction and towards whom? Many voters are still searching for an answer; as, indeed, are many SPD supporters. This is partly because Gerhard Schr?der, the SPD leader, promises to be another Tony Blair, but without the means to deliver what Blair can.
Schr?der has in common with Blair the distance between himself and his party. But Blair used this distance to transform his party (or so it appeared to the voters) and was still able to march into the election arm-in-arm with most of his activists. Moreover, Britain's Labour party did not have an Oskar Lafontaine, chairman of the SPD and spokesman for the party rank and file who, moments before the start of the campaign, still thought it possible that he would be the chancellor candidate. Blair represented New Labour. Schr?der represents a different SPD-and that is an entirely different story.
So what is the problem with the German left? Let us imagine ourselves back in the offices of Herbert Wehner immediately after the fall of the SPD government in 1982. There is one very big difference between then and now: in 1982 the Bundestag had only one party of the left. The Greens, founded as a party in 1980, only entered the Bundestag in 1983-a delayed consequence of the mass movement against the stationing of a new round of nuclear missiles by Nato on German soil as well as the increased civilian use of nuclear power.
Six years later, in 1989, Herbert Wehner's dream came true and Germany was reunified. He did not live to see it; but for the younger generation of the German left, reunification had ceased to be a dream and became a political nightmare. Willy Brandt felt this most keenly when "his" chancellor candidate, Oskar Lafontaine, presented himself in 1990 as the opponent of reunification, apparently out of strategic considerations but, in fact, because of a deep alienation from German history. In any case, the manoeuvre failed and Helmut Kohl won a triumphant victory, buoyed up by millions of votes from east Germany.
Reunification not only left the SPD gasping politically; it also introduced a third party of the left into the equation. Alongside the SPD there are now the Greens, a libertarian, somewhat chaotic, post-modern party with almost exclusively west German support; and the Party of Democratic Socialism (PDS), an illiberal, conspicuously disciplined, pre-modern party, heir to the old ruling Communist party of East Germany, with almost exclusively east German support. In the middle stands the SPD, a party typical of our ambivalent times: half liberal, half collectivist; half blue-collar, half white-collar; half progressive, half traditionalist. The presence of three parties on the left means that the SPD is inevitably squeezed. The two smaller parties function as the Social Democrats' "bad conscience." They also function as energy-sapping competition (the PDS in east Germany, the Greens in west Germany)-rivals whom some Social Democrats consider closer friends than their own officer corps. This alternation between centrifugal and centripetal forces on the German left is created by proportional representation. (The Labour party has been spared such problems, thanks to the first-past-the-post system; or, rather, has experienced them in the past in the form of internal splits.)
the parties of the right have buried socialism. But in Germany, as elsewhere in Europe, it is the centre-left which is likely to be entrusted with managing the post-socialist era. Yet a few years ago Ralf Dahrendorf argued that the social democratic era had reached its end; that social democracy's problem was the successful achievement of most of its aims. At the time, this sounded plausible. But we are now facing a renaissance of the social democratic agenda; the questions of social democracy are being posed more sharply (the rich are getting richer, the poor poorer and so on), but there are few social democratic answers. Many people believe that social democratic politics has been rendered obsolete by globalisation. Whether that is the case or not, the German left appears to have no convincing answers to the social and economic problems facing the country.
The most imaginative party in Germany's left-wing trio are the Greens. Traditional leftists would find it hard to recognise the Greens as an authentically left-wing party. The Greens are not a party of class and ideology, but a party of milieu and issues. Post-materialist, post-modern, affluent social climbers, libertarian intellectuals: whatever sociological (or post-sociological) labels you may choose, the Greens cannot be defined ex definitione. They grew out of a conglomerate of unconventional circles-partly extreme leftist, partly value-conservative ecologists. The issues around which the party formed in the early 1980s (rejection of civilian and military use of nuclear power) has receded into the background; indeed, the pacifist motive has almost been turned on its head: Green members of the Bundestag now support military participation in the former Yugoslavia, for pacifist reasons.
But the Greens remain a party untied to class or interest groups. This makes their presence in Germany, a country where reform is easily stifled by the veto power of pressure groups, especially useful. Some of the younger Green members of the Bundestag have made proposals on questions of social policy, financing tertiary education, environmental tax policies and so on, which are far more imaginative than anything produced by the grey cartel of the powerful; as a result, they have won the respect of senior figures in the CDU/CSU. Nevertheless, the party still often leaves the impression that it lives in a fantasy world of its own. The phenomenal ability of the Greens to damage themselves in election campaigns has become almost endearing, given its convulsive regularity-although not exactly confidence-inspiring. (The most recent example occurred when the Greens' pre-election party congress proposed that the price of petrol be trebled over the next five years.)
The leading figure in the Greens-and the most impressive newcomer to the upper echelon of the German political class-is Joschka Fischer. The problem, as he sees it, is this: "We have not yet achieved the transition from party of protest through party of reform to party of government." He is determined to take every necessary step to change this. Will the Greens take part in a coalition government following the 27th September elections? This depends on several questions: how much change are German voters ready for? How much confidence do they have in their own ability to deal with change? And how big a risk is Schr?der ready to take?
Joschka Fischer, who has just turned 50 but remains young at heart, has come a long way from "Sponti" to statesman. There isn't another politician of his generation who has thought through so thoroughly the political and moral basis of Germany's foreign, European and domestic politics. Just in time for a possible change of government, Fischer has transformed himself from rotund gourmand to ascetic marathon runner-after overcoming a distressing mid-life crisis played out in front of a fascinated public. And he managed this without losing his famous dry wit. Chapeau!
His problem is, of course, his party. He is the longstanding leader of the supposedly dominant "realo" (as opposed to "fundi") wing of the party. But the Greens have no clear leadership structure. Any post which might smell of power is occupied by two people-the institutionalisation of mistrust. Moreover, there is no real national Green party, but a patchwork of independent regional parties held together by a loose holding organisation at the centre. Whereas in industry everyone listens to the centre, with the Greens the centre must listen to everyone else. If Fischer has managed to give the Greens a realistic image, this is more the result of his eloquence than the performance of the party as a junior partner in several state governments. Many still say of Fischer-as they said of Helmut Schmidt and Richard von Weizs?cker-great politician, unfortunately in the wrong party.
many voters would also include Gerhard Schr?der, the SPD's chancellor candidate, in this latter category. They would be wrong-at least as far as the claim that he is a great politician. The SPD's current strength in the polls and its lasting political weakness have the same basis: a man and a party without qualities. This reduces friction, but it also precludes the party from having any deeply held beliefs or useful policies. Those who have been urging the SPD to abandon the remnants of ideology should rejoice in its new pragmatism-if they could only distinguish the dividing line between pragmatism and opportunism. Those who were puzzled by the SPD's masochistic disinterest in power in recent years should be happy with Schr?der's hunger for power-if they could somehow discern in the service of which beliefs this hunger will be put.
Which model does German social democracy want to follow-Tony Blair's British model or Lionel Jospin's French one? The answer is: both. Schr?der welcomes comparison with Blair and thinks that liberalisation, even privatisation, is modernisation. The four times married lion of the television studios is popular among business leaders and talks about Anglo-Saxonisation of the German model (although this did not prevent him from nationalising a steel company in his own state to prevent job losses). Lafontaine, on the other hand, tends towards a more French, statist understanding of social democracy.
Schr?der cannot win without Lafontaine; modern elections may be presidential but they still need party machines and Schr?der cannot mobilise the machine on his own. Lafontaine is the stronger personality within Social Democracy, and, since the assasination attempt on his life in 1994, the more likeable figure-despite his odd combination of earnestness and flippancy (over unification, for example), and a debating style which combines quick wit with trite populism. Even if Schr?der wins, Lafontaine will remain a potentially troublesome figure. There are two possible positions for Lafontaine in an SPD-led government: leader of the parliamentary party or super-finance minister with a veto in cabinet over all spending decisions. Both positions would be vital for the government's survival and, combined with his position as party chairman, could make him unassailable.
So, the old inter-generation conflict (between Helmut Schmidt and the "sixty-eighters," or between "grandfather" Willy Brandt and his countless "grandchildren") has been superseded by an inter-generational conflict among these sixty-eighters.
We have little idea how this generation will perform under fire. It is often said that German Social Democracy is never out of power because many of its prominent figures are minister-presidents in the L?nder-and because the opposition party often dominates the upper house of parliament, the Bundesrat. This is true: both Schr?der and Lafontaine have long (and not particularly distinguished) careers behind them as leaders of, respectively, Lower Saxony and the Saarland.
But national power is different and what makes it most different of all is foreign policy. Notwithstanding the ostentatious cosmopolitanism of the SPD's "Tuscany fraction" the current leadership knows little of abroad, or of Germany's vital alliances. Indeed, one of the most worrying things about the new SPD is that it has been reduced to a single generation: there are no wise old men who know everyone that matter in the foreign capitals. Those members older than Schr?der and Lafontaine have long retired (or been forced to retire), worn out by the long struggle against Kohl which has lasted half a generation. And very few people younger than the sixty-eighters have found their way to the top of the party. After 1968 the saying went: "Don't trust anyone over 30." Looking at today's SPD, this has been transformed into: "Don't trust anyone under 30."
Lack of experience is not the only worry in foreign affairs. There is also a potential policy problem. The worry echoes that in economic and social policy; an SPD-led government may suffer from two souls in one breast. The differences between Schr?der and Lafontaine certainly extend to foreign and especially European policy. Schr?der has, for example, stressed his northern European, protestant roots. And despite the recent appointment of a former Mitterrand adviser to his foreign policy team, he is an Atlanticist who favours bringing Britain into the Franco-German core of the new Europe. Lafontaine, on the other hand, is a Francophile who shares some of France's ambivalence about US hegemony.
The SDP's lack of experience can be exaggerated; the Blair government has not done badly without previous experience of ruling. The conflict with Lafontaine, too, is potentially serious but can be over-emphasised. Again, the Blair government shows that rivalry and resentment at the centre (between Tony Blair and Gordon Brown) does not preclude political success. And Schr?der will have other allies to counter the weight of Lafontaine, most notably the senior Social Democrats from Germany's most populous state, North Rhine Westphalia.
it will be a true irony of history if it falls to Gerhard Schr?der and an SPD-led government to carry Germany's seat of government to Berlin next year. For, the German left increasingly looks like a memorial to the old German Bundesrepublik. Both Schr?der and Lafontaine were among those politicians least able to deal with reunification. Even by the last national election in 1994 (when the SPD was led to defeat by Rudolf Scharping) they had not developed an instinct for east Germany's problems. This year they will make some ground in east Germany; not on their own merits, but because disappointment in the east with the consequences of unification (which are really the consequences of the collapse of the communist nanny dictatorship) will be blamed on the CDU. Yet nowhere in east Germany (except Brandenburg) will the SPD be strong enough to govern without a formal or informal partnership with the ex-communist PDS. And this raises questions of credibility for the SPD-as well as for the PDS.
The PDS is first an east German party-but it is not the east German party; even if 20 per cent of citizens in the east vote for it, this means that 80 per cent of citizens do not vote for it. Moreover, the PDS does not have a monopoly of representing the left, even in east Germany. And it is not really a fit partner for a modern left: it has neither broken decisively with its communist past, nor has it really turned towards the German present-not to mention the European or international present. This will not prevent many east Germans from using the PDS to express their protest; nor will it prevent some east German SPD politicians from choosing the PDS as their silent or open partner in government.
But for the left, the partnership of SPD and PDS cannot be a positive-sum game in the long run; the CDU/CSU are counting on the fact that it may even become a negative-sum game in September. But at least in the medium term the PDS remains a player, because in Gregor Gysi, their most important figure in the Bundestag, they have an exceptionally able and entertaining debater (some would say demagogue). Again you might say: a good man, but in the wrong party-although many observers would reject both parts of this statement.
It is not only in Germany that the challenges facing liberal industrial societies are large and complex; and it is not only in Germany that the political left seems unable to rise to the challenge. It would also be ungenerous not to acknowledge that there are some energetic reformers in the Schr?der camp who may be able to inject some urgency into the stalled domestic reform process. A new set of faces can sometimes make a surprisingly large difference.
Regarding the coming election it seems safe to make just one prediction. Whoever forms the government on 27th September (be it an SPD/Green coalition, a "grand" coalition of CDU/CSU and SPD or even-as some people still think possible-a return of Helmut Kohl's CDU/CSU coalition in alliance with the FDP), none of these governments will last the full four-year term. Were Kohl to be re-elected, he would hand over power mid-term to a younger man; a grand coalition would have to be limited in time, for fear of encouraging populist anti-democratic political movements; and it would be a miracle if an SPD/Green coalition could withstand the pressure for a full four years.
Should this prognosis come to pass, it will be because of the paradox of the German left. It has more political parties than ever before, more support in the opinion polls than ever before; yet it has never been so elusive.
