One of my regular habits is that I turn on the television from time to time in the morning to watch the panoramic images on BR television. Fresh snow on the Grünten, the Viktualienmarkt in the morning mist or the sparkling Königssee at sunrise give me a familiar feeling of comfort. In the background a zither cheerfully welcomes the new day. So far, so Bavarian-kitsch.
I would probably never have had the idea to question this whimsy further if it hadn’t been for Robert Habeck’s much-quoted interview in the “taz”. What was remembered more than the justification for his withdrawal from the German Bundestag was an emotional outburst towards the Bavarian Prime Minister. “This fetish-like sausage eating by Markus Söder is not politics,” the ex-Vice Chancellor blurted out.
And while some subsequently attested to him being whiny and bad style, while others celebrated his post-official speaking in plain language, a much more important question remained unasked: Is it actually true that the assertion that fetish-like eating of sausages is not politics?
Sausages, brass band, snack and traditional costume
Like many things that have to do with food, this question becomes easier to digest if you let it cool down a bit. The meantime can be used for research purposes, starting with the popular Instagram account of the communicative CSU boss.
The equally numerous and calorie-rich culinary sprinkles have been eye-catching for a long time. In comparison to other politician accounts, between sausages, brass band, snacks and traditional costumes, the question arises as to whether this is not more a kind of tourism marketing, mixed with occasional political content. At times there are nine posts in a row on Söder’s account, which are somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle of folk festivals, Bavarian customs and food.
But when someone has been a politician for three decades and has been Prime Minister of his state for the eighth year, and has meanwhile developed into a nationwide brand and reaches millions online, then perhaps it is a bit easy for yourself to claim that this politician’s trademark has nothing to do with politics.
The political crisis of meaning
Admittedly, presenting eating habits and visiting beer tents are not mentioned in the Basic Law. And in social studies classes, the mass media continue to be referred to as the fourth estate – not the Munich Oktoberfest. And yet Habeck’s findings fall short. Talk shows, political books and kitchen table conversations are nowhere established as the holy trinity of political discourse.
“Politics is based on the in-between that arises between people as soon as they act and speak,” as Hannah Arendt put it in a posthumously published lecture note. According to Arendt, politics is not tied to specific places, media or content. Rather, it encompasses the process in which we as individuals deal with our differences. Anyone who has ever attended a family celebration knows what Hannah Arendt means.
You really don’t have to glorify Markus Söder as a genius. But it should be noted that, like many other politicians, he is clearly looking for ways to reorganize political consent in a rapidly changing world. Where individualization breaks up previously familiar environments, globalization makes the world’s demands our expectations and digitalization washes over our heads as a permanent sensory overload, old bonds and certainties are lost. Every traditional organization knows this challenge; parties experience it as an internal and external crisis of meaning. The CSU boss knows this from home.
Why Habeck’s quip misses reality
At the same time, however, there is an opposite development on the right wing. Regardless of whether the respective forces of the radical right are authoritarian, libertarian or authoritarian-libertarian, they are all connected by two characteristics: personalization and emotionalization, with negative emotions such as fear and hate in particular coming to the fore.
It has been proven that neither talk show appearances nor tax relief, fact checks or other measures from the traditional political toolbox can combat deeply internalized political contempt. The importance of factual politics may remain unbroken for all of our everyday lives. But in the party-political competition and in the battle for minds, their importance has recently declined rapidly. There is some evidence to suggest that democratic forces themselves have to find ways to make personalization and emotionalization usable for their politics.
With his quip about fetish-like sausage eating, Habeck gives a voice to those who are frustrated by the mere banalization of political debates; who want arguments instead of poses and slogans. I have great understanding for this wish. And yet we have to work with the reality we find and give answers that fit it.
Söder’s identity politics
Markus Söder has taken advantage of the fact that the Free State of Bavaria, which he governs, probably offers the best conditions of all sixteen federal states to play a big role on the spectrum of emotions and local identities. The potpourri of sausage specialties and pastries, from Zugspitze and Bavarian Forest, from FC Bayern and Adidas, Franconian wine and Hellem, Oktoberfest and Bayreuth Festival, Viehscheid and IAA, it functions as a warming campfire in the Free State. To the outside world, it serves as a projection surface for a way of life that you can easily agree on, at least for the duration of a vacation.
The relevant vocabulary is available free of charge from the Prime Minister. Here is an excursion into the terminology of a single (!) Söder post on Instagram, which deals with the so-called “farmers’ market mile” in Munich: Bavaria, farmers, brass music, home, hospitality, coziness, regional food, family businesses, top quality, export hits, feeling of home, diversity, independence, farmers, appetite. A word cloud like a haystack: you want to jump right in. Unfortunately, you don’t even notice that the father of the country wants to foist other people’s hay on us here as his political machinations.
The former TV editor Söder manages to present a Brettljause as if it were an investment package worth billions. He is laughed at among his colleagues for this. But in the festival tent, the Brettljause is not just the lowest common culinary denominator. It is currently more tangible, more identity-forming and less controversial than any government spending program. The fact that the Brettljause is unable to solve any problem other than combating acute hunger is of little importance. If everyone present no longer believes that any party or institution can solve a problem, then a cultural consensus is at least a start. Cheers to cosiness!
Warmth of a film set
By the way, in case he should find himself in the position of running for chancellor again, Söder is already preparing and adapting his political model: He is traveling the republic like a chancellor on a summer tour. Wherever he appears, more or less nasty remarks are made against local politics (state financial equalization! Holiday dates!), and otherwise the local attitude to life is flattered. Fish rolls on Helgoland, kebab in Berlin and barbecue apron in North Rhine-Westphalia.
The politician Söder works in public like ChatGPT’s Large Language Model: Calculations are used to determine how a person would probably react to a question or issue. And the reaction then takes place on this basis. However, this should not be confused with something like one’s own conviction. #Söder doesn’t just eat what most people eat. But #Söderist is also the way most people are – but only in his public disguise. Anyone who has ever met Markus Söder in real life will quickly notice that the warmth and cosiness here is about as real as the sets of the Bavaria film studios.
Söder vs. reality
You can passionately criticize Markus Söder for aping his audience and then joining them in fraternizing against their own profession. However, it is inaccurate to claim that this is not politics. Söder presents himself as the Lord Seal Keeper of a Bavarian way of life, which he carefully curates himself. The calculation: Anyone who attacks him politically at his Kammerspiel is supposedly attacking Bavarian identity. This is cheap identity politics and no one should fall into this sausage trap again.
Every food skirmish with Markus Söder is a wasted opportunity to attack him emotionally for the politics for which he is actually personally responsible. Why should it become easier to build new slopes, lifts and snowmaking systems in Bavaria despite climate change? Why were thousands of public apartments sold under Söder that are needed today? Why are six of the ten districts in Germany with the worst access to public transport located in Bavaria? And why is the man whose wife owns a multimillion-dollar corporate network, Baumüller Holding, campaigning for a lower inheritance tax?
The author goes to bed today with these combative questions, only to be tested again tomorrow morning while looking at fetish panoramic pictures to see whether he can be manipulated. Then the camera will obligingly glide over the Oberstdorf ski jumping stadium and make me believe that I am leafing through a CSU balance sheet brochure. You’re a dog, Markus – but that’s really not politics!
This text is the start of Kevin Kühnert’s column “Participant Observation”, which will now appear every two weeks on rollingstone.de.