Bavaria: so big and yet so small
Dear Reader,
The irony of Bavaria lies in the fact that it is Germany’s wealthiest and most powerful state, yet it has largely consigned itself to political impotence on the national stage.
The last region of Germany to submit to Prussian dominance in the 19th century, Bavaria only became part of the German state because its last sovereign king’s extravagant taste for castles left his realm bankrupt. Der Freistaat has always seen itself as a country within a country.
Calling someone a Prussian—or Saupreiß in the local dialect—remains the ultimate insult to throw at a snooty northerner.
This fierce sense of independence explains why Bavaria is the only one of Germany’s sixteen states where the centre-right CDU doesn't field candidates.
Instead, the state has been ruled for the entire post-war era by the Christian Social Union (CSU), a fully independent party with its own leader, delegates, and policies.
Only at the national level does the CSU take a backseat, accepting a minority role under the CDU. As the ‘little sister’ in a Bundestag faction called Die Union, the CSU has to make do with the role of deputy faction leader.
But, the fact that Germany’s largest state choses to plough its own furrow in national politics has always led to conflict.
In 2015, the CSU vehemently opposed Angela Merkel’s refugee policies—to the point of wanting to depose her as chancellor. But, without a mechanism to organize opposition within the CDU, their hands were tied.
The only option - one the party briefly considered - was to break up the CDU/CSU faction in the Bundestag. That move would have had historic ramifications and was tantamount to political suicide.
The CDU only refrains from putting up candidates in Bavaria due to a long-standing gentleman’s agreement. Had the CSU walked out of their common faction, the ‘big sister’ could have retaliated by fielding candidates in Bavaria.
The sororal strife only worsened when Markus Söder, a swaggering Nuremberger, became Bavarian governor in 2019. From the get go it was clear that the borders of the state would struggle to contain his oversized ego.
Whether lambasting Merkel over her refugee policies when polling showed widespread public dissatisfaction or declaring himself the leader of "Team Caution" during the COVID pandemic, Söder delights in steering the national debate from Munich.
So, when Merkel retired in 2021 and Die Union needed a fresh face for that year’s election, the Bavarian lion (as he likes to call himself) saw himself as the obvious choice.
He had a strong case, too. There was no obvious CDU candidate waiting in the wings; polling indicated that Söder was more popular than anyone they could put forward.
When the party ultimately chose Armin Laschet, governor of North Rhine-Westphalia, the CDU was split between those who wanted to win at all costs, and those who didn’t want to hand over their power to a Bavarian upstart.
What followed was a weeks-long stand off. Söder refused to back the CDU nominee, while Laschet looked like a man under duress as CDU grandees insisted behind the scenes that he not back down.
Eventually, Söder was forced to concede - no one in the CDU was prepared to openly back him. Already damaged goods, Laschet limped into the chancellor race - where he squandered a 20-point polling lead over the Social Democrats and led Die Union to their worst-ever election result.
Three and a half years later, the conservative Schwesterparteien once again face the challenge of selecting a candidate for next year’s election.
Once again, they hold a commanding 20-point lead over the Social Democrats in polling.
And once again, Söder is the most popular conservative politician in the country.
Arguably, the case for him is stronger now than it was back in 2021.
While the AfD have long realised the potential of tapping into the growing conservative sentiment among young voters via social media, the CDU/CSU have struggled with new media formats.
Söder is the exception.
His Instagram feed is a smooth mix of politics, family history and food. His posts about his culinary adventures, under the hashtag #söderisst, have even achieved cult status.
What's more, love him or hate him, in the tradition of Bavarian Stammtisch politics, Söder is an entertainer — he is even a pretty decent singer.
In many ways, Söder is the anti-Scholz. With an opinion on everything, and a ready quip to go with it, he is a showman - even if he often lacks the substance to back it up.
For a moment, it looked like we would see a repeat of history. Söder spent weeks trying to convince the CDU that, this time round, it was time to place their trust in a Bavarian to run the country.
“If the CDU want me, I’m ready,” he told a packed beer tent in August.
But, once again, his ambitions have been thwarted.
On Monday, Hendrik Wüst, governor of North Rhine-Westphalia, declared for CDU chairman Friedrich Merz. As governor of Germany’s most populous state, Wüst’s backing was crucial.
The game for Söder was over.
A day later, Söder faced the cameras and confirmed that, once again, he wouldn’t be Die Union’s chancellor candidate. “Merz’ll do it,” he said, insisting that he was “fine” with the decision.
Yet again, the CDU asserted its dominance over its ‘little sister’ from Bavaria.
But could the conservatives be making the same mistake they made in 2021?
Perhaps.
There are reasons to believe Merz won't repeat Laschet's failure.
After 16 years of centrist coalitions, the CDU—a party traditionally made up of religious liberals, businessmen, and rural conservatives—had lost its conservative core. A leading liberal, Laschet was never going to bridge that gap.
In contrast, Merz has spent the past three years reshaping the CDU in his image, steering it back to the right on issues like migration and free-market policies.
An outcast during the Merkel years, Merz can claim to represent a genuine break with her legacy on migration. And, as a former financier he also appeals to the Mittelstand who are in open revolt over Scholz’ bureaucratic excesses.
However, Merz’ major weakness is is his occassionally ragged temperament, something that means he still has his doubters on the party’s liberal wing.
Polls consistently show that Merz isn't particularly popular with the public. At 68, his age alone makes it difficult for him to connect with younger voters; his somewhat curmudgeonly persona also isn’t likely to set the campaign trail on fire.
Merz’ persona is probably the only straw that Scholz and his SPD have to grasp at right now: polling shows that if Germans could vote directly for their chancellor, Scholz and Merz would be neck and neck. When it comes to the crunch in a year’s time, a choice between the cool northerner and his prickly rival from the Sauerland could make this a tighter race.
Scholz knows how to get under Merz’ skin. Asked on Tuesday about his challenger, Scholz replied with a faint smile: “I’m fine with him.”
As for the Bavarian lion, he will once again have to lick his wounds in his southern stomping ground. But as all his fellow statesmen know, there’s one silver lining: at least Söder won’t have to live in Berlin.
