Joschka Fischer's ego and his view of his own indispensability may spell the end of his term as minister, writes Derek Scally in Berlin
The most memorable image of German foreign minister Joschka Fischer is 20 years old, and becomes more compelling with the passing years. The photograph shows Fischer's swearing-in as a state environment minister wearing a sloppy blazer, jeans and blindingly white runners.
His choice of footwear was deliberate, thumbing his nose at the grey suits of established German politics who had written off the Greens as a bunch of ecological losers.
Rumour has it that Joschka Fischer's swearing-in runners are now sitting in a museum. Joschka Fischer, statesman, favours tailor-made suits, something that is easy to see because he always makes sure to leave one cuff button open.
It's just a small sign of what's changed in the intervening years.
The Greens, once the political outsiders, are an established political party and have ruled as junior coalition partner in Berlin for the last seven years. Fischer has scaled heights never before reached by a post-war German politician, commanding huge respect and authority wherever he goes in the world.
Now the German opposition and media are working feverishly to topple him, with the help of Fischer himself. The tale is only beginning, but already it is shaping up to be a political tragedy with the moral: "Be nice to people on the way up, because you'll meet them again on the way down." There is widespread agreement in Berlin political circles that Fischer has been anything but nice to people on the way up. Journalists in particular wear their clashes with Fischer's monstrous ego and tetchy temperament as badges of honour, so they are reporting the political scandal of Joschka Fischer's career with undisguised Schadenfreude.
At the centre of the scandal is a decision by the foreign ministry to cut back on the visa checks required for tourists from countries including Ukraine, Albania and Belarus. The new rules stated that if any doubts existed whether the applicants were really tourists with the intention of returning, officials were to decide "in favour of the freedom to travel".
The number of tourist visas issued by the German embassy in Kiev alone more than doubled to nearly 300,000 annually in two years. Thousands of people queued for visas outside the embassy every day, regardless of the weather.
The visa rules were tightened three years later, but a parliamentary inquiry has begun hearing evidence that organised gangs of traffickers abused the rules to get prostitutes and illegal workers into the country posing as tourists. Until hard evidence emerges at the inquiry, however, Fischer himself is in the crossfire.
"Fischer's ego plays a big role in this story. Along with his intelligence, his analysis skills and charisma, his ego is his great strength. But it could also turn out to be his great weakness," says Dirk Kurbjuweit, political correspondent with Der Spiegel magazine, which got the "Visa Affair" rolling and has helped turn it into the "Fischer Affair".
"Many people have been waiting for an occasion like this," says Kurbjuweit. "That would explain the sharp tone of the criticism. But if he should fall, it would have a lot to do with his personality, his arrogance, his snootiness." The scandal has finally exposed the two faces of Fischer. The snooty statesman now co-exists in the public mind alongside the man who was Germany's most popular politician for seven years.
The foreign minister's job description will always makes it easier to be more popular than a finance minister. But Fischer had an edge thanks to his rise from an early school leaver, to a left-wing stone-throwing activist, to a taxi driver, to a statesman respected the world over.
Four years ago, when photos emerged of him beating up a policeman in a 1970s demonstration, Fischer apologised and emerged from the brief scandal even more popular: a rebel with a cause. Fondly remembered too is his description of the Bundestag as "an unbelieveable collection of alcoholics" and his notorious remark to the Bundestag president: "With all due respect, you are an asshole." Now the tables have turned.
"I have to live with the fact that 85 per cent of Greens consider me an asshole," said Fischer a decade ago, something that is even more true today than it was then.
"He enjoys authority. He does have a particular way with journalists and his style is not always gentleman-like," admits Iris Ruder, spokesman for the Greens in parliament. "There's no doubt that he has a big ego, he can allow himself that. But that is what is now being used against him."
It's a similar story in the foreign ministry. Fischer's regal air is legendary and he has put many ministry noses out of joint in the last seven years. But his staff remain supportive, seeing in the efforts to topple Fischer a great German tradition of building someone up to tear them down.
"Snootiness and arrogance play a role. But German journalists let themselves be fascinated by him, they made themselves his disciples and Fischer their guru," says one ministry official. "What we're seeing now is their own embarrassment at this. Tearing down Fischer is an act of self-purification." Green Party officials have a similar theory. "Disappointed love is often bitter," one remarks sagely.
Fischer's outsized ego may have made him many enemies in Berlin, but it is still not a reason for resignation. But his enemies hope to show that his ego affected his judgment. They allege that, once in office, Fischer lost all interest in domestic politics and the daily, mundane affairs of the ministry, such as complaints and warnings from overworked employees in the Kiev consular division.
Fischer has made a belated attempt to show humility. But his admission that he considered resigning but decided to stay on just provided his enemies with another stick to beat him with.
"The issue itself is a huge scandal. Every other minister would have had to resign by now. Fischer has remained on just because Fischer thinks he is indispensable, and is thought of as indispensable," says Dr Arne Delfs, spokesman for the opposition Christian Democrats (CDU).
That view of indispensability could prove the undoing of Fischer, and have serious consequences for the coalition government he holds together, just 18 months before the general election.
"Those in the Bundestag will soon learn that content and character are decisive," said Fischer as a fresh-faced MP in 1983. The German foreign minister's idealistic observation from the past could prove to be his last political lesson.