The weimar republic lasted no longer than 14 years. Helmut Kohl was German chancellor for 16 years. The Federal Republic is now over 50 years old. For half of that time-from 1973 to 1998-Kohl was chairman of the CDU. This is how he came to embody the stable prosperity for which the second German democracy has become known. His centrist-conservative party was also strong enough to neutralise the fringes on the right. Far-right parties as we know them from Italy, France, Belgium and, of course, Austria, have not entered the German national legislature. This was good for Germany, a country which depends, more than any other in Europe, on its neighbours' trust.
Today we know that this stability came at a price. Kohl has bequeathed to the CDU not only proud memories of historic triumphs, but also a scandal which reveals a great deal both about his own style of government and German political culture.
What happened? In brief, millions of deutschemarks of unknown origin flowed into secret party accounts between 1989 and 1998. This revenue was not made public in the annual reports of the CDU, as demanded by law. It now looks as if Kohl spent the bulk of these funds for election campaign purposes in east Germany. Even among his political adversaries, only few suspect him of having taken the money for personal enrichment.
Kohl says that he got the funds from honourable citizens to whom he promised anonymity. Yet such donations to parties are illegal, and by breaking the rule of transparency Kohl may have led the CDU to the brink of political and financial ruin (the party will lose a large part of the state money to which it is normally entitled). Kohl's silence about the benefactors' names has triggered an avalanche of speculation against which the CDU cannot defend itself. Even among the former chancellor's admirers, many are asking: if these benefactors hold the CDU in such esteem, why don't they release Kohl from his promise of secrecy? Do the benefactors exist at all?
Whatever the truth turns out to be, we are certainly witnessing the noisy fall of Das System Kohl. Much of today's CDU leadership belonged to that network-which is why the scandal causes such immense collateral damage. Above all, it prevents Kohl's successor, Wolfgang Schäuble, from convincingly playing the role of chief detective in the "donation affair."
But, contrary to much of the comment (in Germany and abroad) about Kohl, he was not an authoritarian political boss or a ruthless bully. Kohl's system of governing was highly sophisticated. He was at the centre of a network of personal loyalties-a web he himself had woven over the course of many years. All the information (of which individual members of the system held only fragments) converged on him. His most important means of communication was private conversation, either face-to-face or on the telephone; not memos or letters. His key instrument of power was the carrot, not the stick. Reward, not punishment. Deals, not orders. Accordingly, Kohl looked upon criticism from his own ranks not so much as disobedience, but as ingratitude and disloyalty.
Kohl did not govern through institutions, but rather through confidants. The committees he chaired often had the role of merely confirming decisions which had already been taken within informal circles. The so-called "coalition round," where the leading representatives of the three coalition parties met, had more political weight at decisive moments than the cabinet.
This personal style of politics came into its own in the reunification process of 1989-90. In those happy days, Helmut settled the essential issues in private conversations with George and Mikhail, while François and Margaret glowered and the diplomatic machines had a hard time keeping pace with the US-Soviet-German triumvirate.
Kohl's outstanding skill in forging alliances was optimally adapted to German political culture, with its bias towards avoiding conflict. Coalition governments need a chancellor who is a good psychologist-an expert in patiently talking "rival partners" into compromise. For the head of government himself, full support from his own party (the biggest coalition partner) is the decisive source of power. This is why Kohl did not give up the CDU party chairmanship even after he had become chancellor.
As head of the CDU, too, Kohl had to be a master networker. The party is a federation of 15 regional associations, some of them quite powerful and self-confident. In the regions, the CDU chairman has to deal, like a medieval king, with princes and dukes who will not always accept instructions from above. (Kohl himself had once been a duke at the top of the Rhineland-Palatinate CDU.) If necessary, King Kohl sought alliances with the local barons against the regional higher nobility.
Until reunification, Kohl's position as party leader was challenged almost every year from within the CDU and from the CSU under Franz Josef Strauss. But after 1990, there was no longer any rival or critic who could challenge him. Only from then on did the CDU become truly patriarchal.
But Kohl still remained cautious, minimising risks to his power. Behind the scenes he would mediate political conflicts, and only after becoming sure of a clear majority would he proclaim his own decision. (When things meant a great deal to him, he did not shun a battle. This was true for the deployment of US cruise missiles in 1983, and the introduction of the euro against a reluctant public opinion in 1998.)
But the central position the CDU held in Kohl's thinking (and its overwhelming importance as a source of his power) explains why he broke the law-seemingly without remorse. He felt he acted legitimately because he was serving a higher cause. Of course his behaviour also confirms the age-old truth that, after many years in power, the mighty lose the ability to distinguish between their own interest, their party's interest, and the public interest: if it's good for me, it's good for my party; and if it's good for my party, it's good for the country. Add to that the belief that nobody will ever detect your irregularities, and you come to feel invincible.
The fall of Kohl's network is part of a wider trend in German political (and business) culture-a trend towards increased transparency and arguing out conflict more openly. This is underpinned by a generation shift as the reins of power pass to those aged between 40 and 50.
In Germany's other big party, the same trends are visible. The SPD's crony system in North Rhine-Westphalia (and its abuse of the state bank, the Westdeutsche Landesbank) has also been coming to light-though in the shade of the CDU's more dramatic crisis. Consider also the difficulties Chancellor Schr?der, like his predecessor, is having in forging an "alliance for jobs" between the state, trade unions and employers' associations. Globalisation undermines cartels and forms of consensus which can only work in relatively closed systems. Germany is not a closed shop any longer-as the Vodafone takeover of Mannesmann underlines.
Social consensus has been one of the bases of the Federal Republic's success. We are now approaching the end of an era in which hard decisions could be unanimously postponed at round tables. Helmut Kohl's politics of private fixes will no longer suffice.
