LETTER FROM MUNICH:Voters, tired of the Christian Social Union's monotony, are turning to smaller parties, writes Derek Scally
THERE IS no greater challenge for a German politician than to address hundreds of woozy would-be voters in the raucous din of a Bavarian beer hall.
For leaders of Bavaria's Christian Social Union (CSU), the beer halls and tents of the Oktoberfest are where the outcome of this month's crucial state election will be decided.
"It's incredibly difficult to be heard, but it's the best way of reaching people directly, without having to go through the media," says a hoarse Günther Beckstein.
Bavaria's state premier, dressed in his traditional Bavarian blazer, is taking a break between beer-hall engagements. On the surface, he should have nothing to worry about. Polls show the CSU is likely to retain power on Sunday in Germany's largest state - the same size as the Republic - continuing its unbroken reign since 1962 that is unique in European politics.
But if it finishes below the psychological mark of 50 per cent support, as several polls are suggesting, Beckstein's political future is uncertain.
Like others of his generation, Beckstein, a 64-year-old lawyer, has witnessed first hand the transformation of Bavaria from post-war agrarian poorhouse to economic powerhouse.
The CSU's innovative political and economic policies have made the state, home to BMW and Siemens, Germany's high-tech hub. "Laptops and lederhosen" was the CSU's label for success, suggesting it was possible to combine pro-business innovation with traditional values.
Its deep community roots make the party as much a part of Bavarian identity as the Catholic Church and the Oktoberfest.
But ahead of the poll, there is a growing fear in the ranks that the party has run out of steam.
A year ago, Beckstein edged out his predecessor Edmund Stoiber after 15 years in office and then committed the cardinal sin of power grabs: he couldn't decide what to do next.
The economy is doing well: unemployment and crime are below the national average; Bavaria's standard of living is the highest in the country, and yet the party is limping into the election campaign.
"We haven't come up with any election themes because we don't want people to have the feeling we're just taking advantage of something for the election," said Beckstein. "Our biggest problem now is how can we bring our people to the polling stations, how can we motivate them even though things are going well for them?" The party's vague campaign, "more of the same", crossed with "you've never had it so good", has failed to connect with voters. It's just the latest Beckstein policy misstep after a controversial educational reform and a badly planned smoking ban.
"There is a real nostalgia for Stoiber. With Beckstein, there is no vision of where Bavaria wants to be in 2020," says Dr Michael Weigl of the Centre for Applied Policy. "The party is no longer as successful at agenda setting and, for the first time, people and the media here are attacking the CSU." It's a phenomenon that has caught party leaders off guard, one Beckstein is hesitant to acknowledge. He encounters "incredible enthusiasm" at rallies, but even he cannot ignore empty seats and cooler receptions.
The amiable Beckstein, a Protestant from Franconia in northern Bavaria, is light years from the bombastic Franz-Josef Strauss, whose authority still echoes within the party, even 20 years after his death.
Edmund Stoiber, by comparison, was a technocrat teetotaller who drank iced tea in his Oktoberfest beer mug. But he impressed voters with his command of detail and his 2003 state election win - an incredible 60.7 per cent triumph - hangs over Beckstein.
The problems are not solely of his making, particularly as the CSU's traditional voter base - farmers and middle-class Catholic churchgoers - has all but evaporated. But Mark Milosch, author of Modernising Bavaria, suggests the CSU has edged itself into a cul-de-sac with its taste for "kitschified tradition". "The new Bavaria is marked by an often dishonest conservatism and a superficial love of tradition used to bolster a collective egoism," he writes.
That doesn't wash with many of today's Bavarian voters, 40 per cent of whom didn't even live here 20 years ago. Whether they originated in Saxony or Syria, these economic immigrants don't feel loyalty to the CSU, neither as a party nor as keepers of the flame of Bavaria's historically separatist identity.
Polls show voters, tired of the CSU monotony, are increasingly turning to smaller parties, boding well for the liberal Free Democrats. The new Left Party is likely to attract protest voters from the CSU and from the traditionally weak Bavarian Social Democrats (SPD).
A weak CSU showing would be a dampener as chancellor Angela Merkel's conservatives face into next year's general election.
It could also end Beckstein's career as a beer hall campaigner, a victim of his party's success.