Mind the Gap: Explaining unified Germany's Divided Party System

Introduction

Twenty years ago, the fall of the Berlin Wall marked the beginning of a new era. Though preceded by decades of external pressures on and the internal erosion of the authoritarian Communist regimes in Eastern Europe, the events of October and November 1989 can be characterised as democratic revolutions. They broke into the world, in the words of Hannah Arendt, as an ‘infinite improbability’ that could not have been fully predicted. As Arendt writes, the ‘very impact of an event is never wholly explicable; its factuality transcends in principle all anticipation’ [3, 170]. Nowhere was the dramatic nature of the events experienced more drastically than in Germany. Here, the popular uprising with its powerful calls for political freedom (‘We are the people’), the collapse of the Soviet bloc and a mass flight from East to West induced not only a peaceful transition to liberal democracy but—in light of German history—something unprecedented in scope and scale. Supported by the effective political leadership of the federal government, these developments also enabled the speedy political unification of a country that had been divided for decades.

Facing distinct historical legacies and tremendous economic obstacles, few economists, political scientists or policymakers in 1989-1990 expected the political and economic transition to be an easy ride in East Germany or, for that matter, in Central Eastern Europe. Yet even fewer predicted that there would still be lasting divides within Germany two decades later. Despite considerable successes in the political, economic and cultural unification of the ‘two Germanys’ (accompanied by successful Central Eastern European integration into the EU), the blending of two different political cultures and legacies remains an ongoing challenge. While German unification has reshaped many long-held beliefs [8, 193] and facilitated the emergence of a more robust shared identity over time, remarkable divisions between ‘the East’ and ‘the West’ persist. Given the nature of the task, some enduring economic disparities and cultural differences might not be surprising. However, the gaps may be most striking in the arena of politics: in the sphere of political culture, values, competition and self-understanding. In particular, this divide finds expression in two distinct party systems in former East and West Germany. Although by now, for the most part, the same parties compete for public office in general and state (Länder) elections in the East and in the West, the nature of their competition and their success at the ballot box vary significantly [19, 134]. Considering the many successes in the realm of economic integration and democratisation, the emergence of two distinct party systems that have consolidated over time poses a puzzle. What is the extent of this political divide, and why did it happen? Moreover, what can we learn from this in relation to both the German situation and the broader question of East–West divides in the European Union, 20 years after the demise of Communist regimes?

Divided we stand? The evolution and consolidation of Germany's two party systems

In contrast to other East European countries where parties virtually emerged from scratch, the first election and voting patterns in unified Germany in 1990 largely reflected the established party system of the Western Federal Republic. The speedy convergence in this watershed election could be attributed to four major factors. First, the election documented the widespread support for the Kohl government and its successful unification policies and promises. Consequently, the centre-right catch-all parties, the Christian Democratic Union and Christian Social Union (CDU/CSU) received 43.8% of the total vote and their junior partner in government, the Free Democratic Party (FDP), 11%; both parties gained a stunning 55.1% in the new Länder. In the East, the CDU celebrated the ‘greatest victory ever’ [28, 48], while the SPD (Social Democratic Party) placed a distant second. Second, in general it was the Western parties' power and resources that dominated the first unified election. East–West divergences were marginal and similar to regional differences in the West. This led to the false expectation that the party system was already unified. Third, the results and high turnout hinted at an overall acceptance of Western political parties and the policy choices they offered, and at an overwhelming support for the democratic political system and the Western market economy. Fourth, the Communist successor party PDS (Party of Democratic Socialism), originating in the Socialist Unity Party (SED) that had governed the German Democratic Republic, could only garner 2.4% of the vote nationwide because the party was largely discredited in both East and West Germany. To be sure, the authoritarian party did seek a new image and endorsed some democratic reforms under a new leadership, and the fact that the post-Communist party received 11.1% of the vote in the East indicated some ongoing support there. Yet this was largely viewed as a temporary transition phenomenon. And fifth, although extreme right-wing activity spread across the country and was particularly relevant in the East, it did not find expression in any electoral success of an extreme right party that could challenge the expectation of democratic ‘normalisation’ [21].

In light of these results, Irving and Paterson suggested early on that West Germany had ‘in effect “absorbed” East Germany, including the country's party system’ [16, 370]. Such assessments and corresponding predictions proved to be wrong—as misguided as the expectation that in general, post-Communist Central Eastern Europe would simply mimic West European party politics. Still, in the following 1994 general election even secular working-class voters in Eastern Germany confirmed their majoritarian preferences for the CDU [29, 185] and kept Christian Democracy in the driver's seat. Against this backdrop, Dalton and Bürklin diagnosed ‘anomalies in the social basis of voting choice in the West and the East.’ The authors were also the first to claim that there are still ‘two electorates—and two party systems—existing within the Federal Republic’ [9, 80]. However, this split turned out to be quite different in nature—as well as longer lasting—than Dalton and Bürklin and others anticipated. Contrary to expectations, the presumably ‘residual’ support for the PDS would not dissipate. Neither would this post-Communist party become a victim of successful democratic transformation processes and ‘inner unification’. Rather, the democratic parties of Western origin would come under severe pressure and suffer from fluctuating and overall declining voter support. This included the CDU and its temporarily ‘anomalous’ social basis.

By 1998, just one general election later, the CDU had dramatically lost its anchor position. Thus, the party's early post-unification successes in the East proved to be deceptive [27, 136]. Support for the party of ‘Western integration’ and, more importantly, the ‘party of unification’ fell to 27.3% in the East. This was a much more significant loss than Helmut Kohl and the CDU suffered in the West. The party was clearly surpassed by the SPD, which received 35.1% of the vote in the East [28, 49]. Whereas two out of five blue-collar voters now voted for the SPD, only one out of five still chose the CDU, which found itself on equal footing with the post-Communist PDS [27, 150]. This shift continued through 2002, when the SPD won the general election. In fact, it did so primarily because of its strong East German support: although the Social Democrats were trailing the Christian Democrats in the West by 2.5%, they were ahead of the CDU by a remarkable 11.5% in the East. Yet the SPD's road to strength or even hegemony in the East was short-lived as well, as the following elections in 2005 and 2009 demonstrated.

By the 2005 election, the SPD was still the strongest party in the East (at 30.5%), but with significant losses that moved it into the vicinity of the continuously declining voter share of the CDU (25.3%). In the West, by contrast, Christian Democrats stayed ahead of the Social Democrats by a narrower margin of 2.4% (almost identical to the 2002 margin). However, in the 2009 election the Social Democrats virtually collapsed in the East, seemingly losing all legitimacy as a party representing blue-collar interests and public employees. Losing 12.5% of the Eastern vote, the party ended up as a distant third here with 18.3%. Of course, in this case the tremendously weak result in the East was not necessarily distinctly ‘Eastern’, but mirrored losses among Western voters as well. The SPD lost 11% of its vote in the West, where it received only 24.2% of the vote—its worst result in post-War history. In turn, the CDU—led by Chancellor Angela Merkel, who is from the East and was brought up in the GDR—recovered slightly in the East in 2009. It jumped from third rank back into the leading position, albeit with a still meagre 29.5% (as opposed to 34.9% in the West). The two smaller but relevant parties that originated in the ‘old’ West German party system—the Free Democratic Party (8%) and the Greens (5.1%), in which civil rights activists of the former GDR had temporarily played a role as ‘Alliance ‘90’—finally managed to consolidate some support in the East following 2005. After fickle performances in the early post-unification era, they have emerged as small competitors in what we might conceive as the ‘Eastern party system’—a trend confirmed by the 2009 national election. However, they too continue to lag behind their showings in the West and are less stable in the Eastern Länder.

Most strikingly, the two German party systems are shaped by the performance of the post-Communist Party of Democratic Socialism, which by 2005 had transformed into the Left Party. As the successor party to the SED, the former authoritarian-Communist ruling party in East Germany, the Left Party has pursued significant reforms. Yet it also still displays anti-capitalist ideological rhetoric and endorses a future overhaul of the political-economic order. Though there are more moderate wings on the leadership level supporting coalitions with the SPD (the Left Party is a junior partner in several ‘red-red’ state governments in Eastern Germany), the party elite apparently seeks a fusion of allegedly ‘true’ social democratic programmatic orientations and leftist radicalism. The party hereby also emphasises its identification with a somewhat diffuse ‘Eastern identity’, if not with the GDR or ‘good aspects’ of the socialist regime. Ties to its GDR legacy are not just manifested in social data, such as the high membership of Eastern pensioners and former members of the SED. They are also expressed in the ongoing presence of a Stalinist wing, the ‘Communist platform’, and the role of activists from ‘Marx 21’, a radical-left ‘revolutionary’ cadre group that recently joined the Left Party and entered the upper party ranks. To be sure, the Left Party is by now a ‘curious union’ [8] of the post-Communist PDS and ‘Labour and Social Justice—The Electoral Alternative’, which had been created by assorted (predominantly Western) leftist groups dissatisfied with the SPD's pro-market policies (called ‘Agenda 2010’) under Chancellor Schroder. In particular, the leading role of Oskar Lafontaine, a former SPD chair and the Social Democrat candidate for chancellor in 1990, gave the Left Party a popular Western face and increased its legitimacy among Western voters. However, although it expanded its role and support in the West, the Left Party is also—both in terms of programmatic orientations and its voter base—a strong regional and regionalist party that allegedly defends ‘Eastern interests’.

In retrospect, it is clear that the PDS/Left's survival was no ‘transition phenomenon’. Instead, its initial weakness in the East after unification was only temporary. Stagnating at around 1% of voter support in the West, the party celebrated some dramatic post-unification gains and increases in 1994 (19.8%) and 1998 (21.6%). It had only one weaker result in 2002 (17%), when Gerhard Schröder (SPD) successfully campaigned in the East after displaying an active role in dealing with a major flood along the River Elbe. But in 2005, the Left Party scored 25.4% in the East, surpassing the CDU here for the first time since unification and increasingly closing the gap in relation to the SPD. While the party also gained votes in the West, it remained below 5% in the West. The 2009 general Bundestag election has confirmed the Left Party's distinct strength in the East as one of the three major players here, while the CDU's and SPD's see-sawing continues. The Left Party once more increased its proportional share in 2009. It mobilised 26.4% of Eastern voters, becoming the second strongest party and distancing the declining SPD by 6.1%. In Saxony-Anhalt, for example, the Left even dominated the election, scoring 32.2%. By all standards, the Left has established itself among the East's three major party players. Such a position for the party is still unthinkable to voters in the West.

Finally, we should not underestimate the role of the extreme right. In contrast to many other European countries, extreme right parties have little prospect of gaining national representation in Germany any time soon [26]. Occasional successes in Western state elections cannot establish any lasting voter base. However, it is a very different matter in the East, where extreme right parties fare much better in both state and general elections. In the East, the extreme right has performed better in every state since the turn of the century than in any state in the West. For instance, in Saxony the especially extremist National Democratic Party re-entered parliament in 2009 after receiving 9.2% of votes in 2004. Results vary from election to election, but extreme right parties are serious and relevant contenders throughout the East. It is therefore problematic to ignore these East–West distinctions in relation to extreme right electoral performance and to broadly claim that their successes are ‘restricted to second-order elections at the Land level’, and that their voters ‘abandon the right at elections which really count’ because extreme right parties are ‘lacking the competence to handle important issues’ [10, 232]. Instead, both the post-Communist left and the extreme right have a considerably larger potential than in the West and do better in the East [29, 188].

Both recent national elections—and the roller-coaster rides of the SPD and the CDU since unification in general—give further evidence to three claims supporting the thesis that there are two distinct party systems in the East and in the West. 1.

The party space is more fragmented and polarised in the East than in the West. We find two major players in the West but three almost equally strong major competitors in the East (including the constantly gaining Left Party), with recurring successes of extreme right parties, which frequently surpass the 5% threshold for parliamentary representation in state legislatures. In addition to the three main parties, there is the increase in the total number of relevant parties.

In sum, there is nothing to indicate a convergence or adaptation of voting behaviour of the East and the West [5]. Rather, East–West differences in voting have grown since unification. Along with these different electoral patterns, the distinct party spaces that have emerged have become ever more consolidated over the last 20 years. Overall, the political East–West divide has not narrowed but stabilised.

Divided but equal? Explaining the enduring political East–West divide

Why does this political divide persist, and why has it been reinforced over the last decade? Instead of glossing over the different political behaviour and voting patterns—a path followed by some recent studies and often by democratic politicians in unified Germany—we want to offer a set of explanations for this puzzling divide. Without fully examining the validity of each model, we will generate some hypotheses that consider often-marginalised factors and which deserve further testing. Germany provides a particularly interesting test case because it is the only country where the East and the West are integrated into one nation and political system, and because we can exclude several systemic factors which often account for the cross-national variation of party systems. For instance, the electoral system and electoral rules—personalised proportional representation and a 5% threshold to enter parliament—are unified in Germany's general elections, and systemic variations in state elections are marginal. Furthermore, the parties competing are more or less identical; thus the argument that parties have occupied the space for competition at different critical junctures—as is the case in various post-Communist countries in Central Eastern Europe—so that different newcomers have to fight different obstacles is not obsolete but also of limited value in explaining variation.

First, there are socio-economic demand-side factors. Of course, it cannot be contested that there are continuous economic problems, social discrepancies and income inequalities between Western and Eastern Germany and, for that matter, between many Western and Eastern EU Member States. The same is true for unemployment, which is particularly high in rural regions with a significant share of less educated youths. The different social structures continue to influence voting patterns: blue-collar and low-income voters and the unemployed tend to strongly favour redistributive, state-interventionist policies. They can be articulated by the left—in accordance with the conventional left-right axis—or by the extreme right. In light of the relevance of those voters in rural Eastern regions, the high support for interventionist, protectionist and redistributive policies—embodied by the Left Party and the extreme right—should not come by surprise. Yet in spite of its value, this explanation, which is exclusively based on the ‘social question’ and social discontent, does not grasp the complexities of the Länder of the former GDR and other post-Communist countries. For example, while systemic economic factors are important, empirical analyses of voters of the Left Party show that ‘subjective deprivation’, that is, the perception of individual and collective economic and status decline, is often much more significant. ‘Objective’ social and economic consequences and problems are not necessarily key, as Schoen and Abold suggest [27, 139]. The Left Party does not recruit its voters primarily from those who objectively are ‘modernisation losers’ [24]. These voters tend to disproportionately abstain from voting. Yet those who usually evaluate the present and future general economic situation in negative terms and those who view the societal order of the Federal Republic as ‘generally unjust’ tend to vote disproportionately for the PDS/Left Party or the extreme right parties [2]. We therefore need a more refined understanding of the role political culture and historical legacies play in shaping perceptions of the ‘social question’, and democratic society at large.

This brings us to a second argument. There is a specific cultural demand-side component in the political East–West divide. According to an early model by Herbert Kitschelt, two primary cleavages drive party politics. Only one cleavage concerns the preferred mode of the distribution of resources: citizens prefer either market allocation or state (re)distribution. The second cleavage is shaped by the conflict between a narrow, exclusive, particularist notion of citizenship and identity on the one hand, and a more liberal-cosmopolitan conception of political membership and rights-based approach to authority on the other. In the transition to capitalism, Kitschelt argues, the bulk of voters tend to support strong redistributive policies and authoritarian-particularist collectivism [17]. Adopting Kitschelt's model, Kopstein and Ziblatt argue that East Germany completely lacked a ‘capitalist middle class’ and—unlike other post-Communist countries—it did not really develop one in the transition process that is the backbone of advanced liberal democratic capitalism. Political competition, then, is oriented along an ‘early modern’ axis between agents representing redistributive particularism on the one hand, and pro-market cosmopolitanism on the other. With the development of advanced capitalism, competition will shift to an axis between ‘redistributive cosmopolitan’ poles and pro-market authoritarianism. But in Germany, such change in economic and cultural preferences is taking place only very gradually, and thus we will continue to see strong support for the redistributive and rather authoritarian-particularist Left Party—that is ‘Honecker's revenge’ [19, 143].

There are several problems with this model. Its validity is limited and it is too general to explain the time sequences and fluctuations; it claims that the social structure and its underlying values largely determine cleavages and competition; and it leads to the problematic expectation that with the advancement of capitalism and liberal democracy, party competition will ‘normalise’ and ‘Westernise’. To the contrary, the gap between the party systems has consolidated and widened over the last years, along with an increasing alienation between the populations of the East and the West: while the perception of differences declined until 2004, it has increased since then. Today only 20% of West Germans and 11% of East Germans believe that things in common outweigh differences, while 42% of West and 63% of East Germans emphasise differences between the East and the West [15,20]. However, the model recognises the importance of culture and different legacies. Indeed, data suggest that six decades of authoritarian rule have still left their mark on East German political culture. East Germans tend to be more supportive of ‘old’ German values of discipline, order and hard work than of the ‘new values’ of individualism, tolerance and constitutional democracy, but on average less accepting of foreign residents. And this model helps to shift the focus on the peculiar mix of salient social and cultural values and attitudes towards politics that resonate more strongly in the East's conflict axes, and that are also mirrored in the Eastern party system. East Germans are systematically less liberal-cosmopolitan but more focused on collective identity than their West German counterparts, and East German citizens are much more favourable to redistributive policies and state interventionism. These findings remain robust even when controlling for economic position and incentives [19, 143]. The aforementioned distinct sets of prevailing value orientations in the East point to different demand-side preferences that also help us to understand the East–West divergence of party systems: both sets of orientations are especially represented, though to a varying degree, by the Left Party and by extreme right parties.

Third, and related to the cultural dimension of authoritarian particularism, we need to take a closer look at the less widespread belief in democratic ‘self-expression values’ in the East and a less robust civil society in comparison to Western political culture. A more refined model to explain this difference and its further consolidation as of late can be found in the work on value change by the ‘modernisation theorists’ Inglehart and Welzel. Rather than only pointing to the high relevance of these different legacies, they argue that effective democracy and widespread support for democratic institutions depends on the cultural prevalence of and preference for self-expression values, which emerge with long-time value change and against the backdrop of economic security. Such values emphasise individuality, human choice, freedom of expression, civil and political liberty, diversity and autonomy radiating into all domains of life. Inglehart and Welzel distinguish between democratic beliefs that are linked to self-expression values on the one hand, and instrumental support for democracy on the other. Many ‘who do not emphasize self-expression values support democracy for other reasons, such as the belief that democracy means being secure and prosperous. These other motives are instrumental … they reflect support of democracy in so far as it is thought to be linked with prosperity and order. This type of support can quickly vanish if a society's experience under democracy is disappointing’ [14, 268]. According to their data, such self-expression values are still considerably weaker in the East than in the West. But mass support for democracy, they argue, leads to effective democracy only when linked with self-expression values, which are favourable to democratic institutions. Although self-expression values ‘are themselves shaped by socioeconomic resources, they have a significant independent impact on democracy’ [14, 182]. Those publics that stress strong self-expression values tend to have stronger civil societies; yet both are still lagging behind in the East, where we are at times confronted with extreme right networks and their ‘uncivil societies’ that seek to fill the void produced by civil society's weakness. So far, however, there is no clearly increasing shift towards self-expression values in Eastern Germany in particular, and in post-Communist societies in general. The relationship to democracy is often still more instrumental and shaped by ‘survival values’.

In fact, a more instrumental relationship to democracy can be identified in the significant segment of East German voters who identify liberal democracy completely with market capitalism. Consequently, in times of economic crises or structural adjustment problems, support for democracy—and democratic institutions and parties—dwindles. In general, public trust in national democratic institutions is considerably lower in Eastern Germany than in the West, a finding that is reflected in many other post-Communist societies. The authoritarian societal legacy, as well as the long absence of democratic experiences and robust democratic political culture, may feed into salient and, over time, reinforced notions of collective identity that emphasise social cohesion, collectivism, cultural homogeneity and ‘order’ as well as social egalitarianism. In the West, by contrast, individualism, individual civil rights and liberties, cultural diversity, societal pluralism and constitutional democracy are more broadly supported and more robust. Along with market capitalism, precisely those values are more frequently—and negatively—identified by Eastern citizens as ‘Western’ or ‘Westernisation’. While cosmopolitan diversity [1] and political liberties are often not prioritised, identity politics and conceptions of Eastern and national/ethnic identity play a more important role in the East. Eastern regionalism, or allegiance to one's East German identity, and exclusive cultural nationalism both ‘oppose the penetration of Western individualism in favor of communitarian conceptions of identity’ [18, 67]. Support for pluralism and democracy, then, are grounded in slightly different socio-cultural understandings rather than providing for a thoroughly shared overarching political identity. Comparatively speaking, more Eastern voters identify democracy with popular sovereignty rather than with the recognition of pluralistic interests, diversity, civil liberties or minority rights. We do not want to exaggerate this difference. German political culture is changing, and it is overall becoming more liberal-cosmopolitan in the East and in the West [25]. Yet the differences are notable and significant, and in some respects they have even widened over time.

Fourth, a resilient culture of suspicion between ‘arrogant’ Besser–Wessis and ‘whiny’ Jammer–Ossis continuously reinforces cultural (mis)perceptions, including anti-Eastern and especially anti-Western attitudes. This discontent with certain aspects of unification, including decision-making processes and taxation, helps to nurture different salient issues—and party politics speaking to those different issues and constituencies.

Fifth, demographic developments also play a significant role. In many rural regions of the East, for example, the proportion of pensioners who grew up in the GDR and of youths without higher education is particularly high. Highly educated and skilled citizens from the East tend to move to the urban centres, most of which are in the West.

What still deserves more attention, however, is the role of historical legacies, the varying influence they have and the peculiar ways they shape the political demand side—and even the supply side—of party agents. In short: historical legacies, political cultures and their traditions matter. Yet they can also be reinforced and reconstructed. Twenty years later, the GDR may look better to some with increasing distance, including some disenfranchised young voters born after the fall of the Wall. At any rate, deep-seated values and attitudes towards political processes tend to transform only over long periods of time. Such embedded cultural perceptions of political conflicts, conduct, values and societal cleavages can have a lasting impact on party competition and on understandings of democracy in general. They can play out in different ways beyond public opinion polls and immediate electoral choices. For example, Kitschelt et al. have found different legacies, that is, institutional and cultural variations, which shape different forms of competition, representation and inter-party cooperation in post-Communist European countries. The legacy of the repressive, ‘bureaucratic-authoritarian’ Communist regime types that we find in East Germany, they argue, points to certain historical antecedents of political mobilisation, but also points to the political mobilisation that preceded the implosion of the regime (as opposed to a more gradual transition) marked by the short but sharp wave of protest that we witnessed in the former GDR [18]. However, this immediate demand for democracy and civil rights does not correspond to the experience of civil society practices and democratic cooperation that had developed elsewhere, even under less repressive Communist regimes. Thus, the authoritarian Communist legacy has shaped the demand and the supply side of East German party politics and it will likely continue to do so, especially if reinforced by economic and political factors.

We cannot go into detail here and further explore the specific impact of this legacy and its transformations. However, a sixth argument is that this also influences the style of politics in the East and the way, for instance, populist resentments against ‘the elite’ may be more effectively used here than in the West. There are many indicators that party agents themselves play an important role in the stabilisation of political divisions between the East on one the hand, and the West, ‘the elite’ and ‘others’ on the other. In particular, we refer to the politics of resentment that draws on popular discontent with democracy and its values. Extreme right parties have successfully mobilised such resentments in several regional elections, combining social with national and cultural protectionism into a new winning formula. Mimicking some of the vocabulary of the traditional Communist left, they have combined their anti-liberal, anti-cosmopolitan and anti-immigrant resentments with a focus on economically redistributive and protectionist as well as ‘anti-West’ and ‘anti-imperialist’ agendas. In turn, the Left Party has not only exploited and reinforced East–West differences in campaigns focusing on East Germans as alleged second-class citizens but has, at times, also criticised the influx of ‘alien workers’. Among other things, it mobilises anti-Western populist resentments and occasionally deploys attacks on governmental immigration policies that have allegedly allowed too many foreigners into the country and cost native Germans their jobs. Although the Left's party ideology is, to be sure, in various ways significantly different from the radically anti-democratic supply by extreme right, in part it competes for overlapping disenfranchised constituencies [26]; and it also engages in politics of discontent and (Eastern) identity that mix protectionist economic redistribution claims with cultural particularism. In spite of its name and its Communist ideological roots, it is therefore difficult to conceptualise the Left Party only in terms of the conventional left–right cleavage. Rather, the party offers a peculiar blend of some traditional leftism and Eastern parochial regionalism, expressed in its presumed articulation and defence of ‘East German interests’ as well as its support of redistributive policies—a mixture of nostalgic populism and ‘post-Communism’ [13]. The party thus captures and generates a specific mood and often diffuse but widespread discontent. Moreover, new voters for the Left Party have an increasingly romanticised and positive perception of the GDR, whereas those who leave the party have a more positive perception of the federal government and democratic political institutions [23, 212].

Steps towards convergence: some qualifications

To be sure, some empirical qualifications about the scope of and reasons for the divide need to be made. First of all, since unification there has been undeniable progress, not just in terms of socio-economic development but also with regard to the cultural blending of divided Germany. Many young voters in the East are affected by post-industrial value change and conditions, just as their Western counterparts are. They have become more ‘Westernised’ and ‘cosmopolitan’ in their outlook on the world, while national events such as the 2006 World Cup have reinforced both a global outlook and an emerging intergenerational sense of shared national identity. At the same time, to be sure, 50% of Germans in the East and in the West believe that ‘globalization leads to a duller and more uniform world’ [7: 321, 11], a proportion larger than anywhere else in Western Europe.

Second, some problems and developments are not limited to the East: political and electoral participation went down in the West as well. Across the nation, more voters appear to be disenfranchised with the electoral process. While only 65.6% of eligible Eastern voters participated in the 2009 general election (a steep decline of 9.1% compared to 2005), the West also saw an unprecedentedly low turnout of 70.8%. (The biggest was chunk disenfranchised voters of the SPD, which lost dramatically across the country.) In addition, increasing electoral volatility and the weakening of party identification are general symptoms of post-industrial parliamentary democracies in Europe. They reflect post-industrial changes in the electorate's demographics and values. These changes have led to an erosion of party loyalty and the fragmentation of the party system in Western Germany as well (from a two-and-a-half- to a five-party system), with the CDU as the strongest party among young voters but with more and more young voters turning to the left of centre. Some speak of a silent ‘adaptation eastwards’ [27, 142]. However, volatility has increased and party identification has declined constantly over time, in line with secular dealignment that is driven by a general weakening of traditional social ties [4].

Furthermore, we should not overlook resilient regional differences between Germany's North and the South that are also significant, though they do not account for distinct party systems. For instance, the North–South difference in support of the CDU/CSU in the 2002 general election—when the Bavarian Edmund Stoiber was their candidate—was larger than the East–West difference. While the SPD was ahead of the Christian Democrats in the North, it trailed them by 18% in the South. Finally, as much as the Left Party is an Eastern regional party, it did manage to create significant inroads into the Western electorate in the last elections. Struggling on its Eastern home turf in 2002 and without a foothold in the West, its marriage with Lafontaine and some Western union activists expanded the party's outreach and base westwards. Even in Bavaria, the Left Party received 6.5% of votes in 2009. The party's Western gains are actually, therefore, steeper than its recent Eastern ones. We do not know how long this trend will last, but it is clear that the Left Party is no longer irrelevant in the West. Thus, while differences prevail, stabilise and have a lasting impact, there are also some—at times ambivalent—signs of convergence.

An ever-closer union? The future of the East–West divide in Germany and Europe

The democratic transformation and unification have given Germans a positive experience to celebrate. The year 1989 brought about a democratic, free nation. Today, nearly all Germans agree on where the country's borders begin and end. Still, significant political divisions—and mutual frustrations—remain. They are displayed and reinforced by distinct party systems. Easterners tend to retain a lingering tie to their separate past [19]. By the same token, the enormous success of democratisation and European integration in Central Eastern Europe is still accompanied not just by important national divides but also by East–West ones. In the sphere of party politics, these play out in different ways. For instance, the historical absence of social democratic parties has been used to explain why the Hungarian and Polish parties were able to take their place and regenerate as market-oriented, mainstream secular social democratic parties geared towards European and ‘Western’ integration. But in Eastern Germany it is the Left Party that has been capable of becoming a serious contender against the Social Democrats and the Christian Democrats.

Though in many ways a special national case, a close examination of the political divide in Germany reveals that distinctly ‘Eastern’ party systems, including the regeneration of post-Communist parties and the rise of specific extremist and populist parties, may not just be a transition phenomenon. As Cas Mudde points out, recent comparative studies on party politics in post-Communist Europe have emphasised many similarities and convergences with the West. Furthermore, many parties in Eastern Europe do not differ fundamentally from their Western counterparts, and there are clearly political parties on both sides of the former Iron Curtain that share a similar ideological core. Although differences do exist, so-called ‘Western’ concepts and theories go a long way in explaining developments in post-Communist countries [22]. However, the analysis of the two distinct party systems in Germany also reveals distinct political values and cleavage structures that point to the persistent though changing significance of the legacy of the past. In addition, Western postindustrial conditions still only partly apply to Eastern Germany and Eastern Europe. While party strategies are important in shaping the character of distinctly Eastern party systems, the political cultures, their salient value conflicts and their relationship to democratic self-understandings are key factors in reconstructing and coming to terms with such East–West divides. Persisting social, political and economic inequalities and differences are interpreted and shaped by agents and by cultural perceptions that have evolved over time.

Not only are the political and cultural legacies that divide the East and the West in many ways enduring [12]; in several dimensions, these divides have also been reinforced in recent years and in recent elections. They will arguably continue to matter for years to come. Any reasonable and responsible policy will therefore have to respond to this challenge but also cope with the fact that right now such differences will persist. Combating established East–West stereotypes will be an important step towards further facilitating common political identities and ‘shared purposes’ in Germany and in the European Union. However, it is likely a futile endeavour, and problematic for trust in democracy, to forge a common political identity while ignoring the lasting and partly re-energised East–West differences in a country—and a continent—once literally divided.

Conclusion

An examination of the scope and nature of Germany's divided party system and its causes reveals that considerable political divisions persist. They can be attributed to the interplay of a set of factors rather than to one major cause. Salient among them are, apart from socioeconomic factors, the often still underestimated role of historical and cultural legacies. These help to shape and facilitate different societal cleavages and political values (such as self-expression values or authoritarian particularisms), as well as different interpretations of democracy or relationships to it. Against this backdrop, weak civil society structures and less support for self-expression values in the East have a negative impact on effective democracy. The prevalence of a more instrumental view of democracy, then, may help explain the more limited support of democratic parties and the more widespread general discontent there. Furthermore, we need to pay attention to the party players—and in particular the agents of discontent—and their strategic interactions with competitors. They may not only represent politico-cultural divides but also play a crucial role in reinforcing them. Especially in the emerging, less consolidated party spaces of the Eastern Länder, the effective use of identity politics and diffuse popular discontent, and the mobilisation of disenfranchised constituents may have a lasting impact on the divided party system. Thus, although differences should not be exaggerated and must be qualified in light of successful processes of integration and unification and in light of closer analyses of social and demographic variables, they are arguably most striking in the realm of party politics. For the time being, the ‘road to inner unity’ surely will remain a ‘long and rocky one’ [6, 1]. While Germany represents a special case as the only country that has unified the Eastern and the Western experience, for the same reason it also offers some general lessons that may help to understand and come to terms with the dynamics of other East–West divides in the European Union on the way to shared political identities in an ever-closer union. If we do not recognise the cultural and political divides and distinct legacies as an enduring dimension and political problem, policies towards further integration may face an uphill battle.