1 Anger citizens
Disgruntled of Stuttgart. Illustration by Ulli Lust
The «Wutbürger» stepped into the limelight in late 2009: after Stuttgart city council allowed a controversial urban development project to go ahead, a group of disgruntled locals took to the street to voice concern. Over the next few months, the protests grew in size from the hundreds to the thousands; in September 2010 clashes with the police led to people being arrested and hospitalised. An elderly engineer was nearly blinded by a water cannon.
Germany is no stranger to public protests, but these demonstrators looked different. There were few young idealists with dreadlocks or shaven heads. Some were environmentalists who had developed their taste for demos in 1968; others political conservatives concerned about the destruction of their city’s architectural heritage. Many were pensioners.
Spiegel journalist Dirk Kurbjuweit, who coined the term Wutbürger, classifies them as «conservative, prosperous and not young. They used to be supportive of the state; now they are deeply scandalised by the state of modern politics». Anger citizens are not just outraged by local politics: they also complain noisily about lazy Greeks, corrupt bureaucrats and immigrants who don’t teach their children to speak German.
Many see them as emblematic of a wider demographic shift: a new political centre made up of the country’s growing army of pensioners, which is increasingly sceptical about the benefits of globalisation, aggravated about modern politicians and nervous about what inflation might do to their savings.
Ethical consumerism, illustrated by Ulli Lust
2 Organic bourgeoisie
The 1980s witnessed the rise of the «Öko» type, the knitted Scandinavian jumper-wearing ecowarrior who makes his own muesli, protests against nuclear energy and buys his dinkelbrot (spelt bread) in the bioladen (organic food shop). Today green ideas are mainstream, and the Öko has been replaced with a new social stereotype, often referred to as «Bionade Biedermeier» – named after the organic lemonade and the Biedermeier period of 1815-1827 that witnessed the rise of Central Europe’s bourgeoisie. Commonly spotted in the Schanzenviertel quarter of Hamburg, Prenzlauer Berg in Berlin or Agnesviertel in Cologne, the Organic Bourgeoisie defines itself less through hairshirt ascetism than ethical consumerism, less through political activism than green lifestyle. They still recycle their rubbish, but only give half as much money to charity as their British counterparts – choosing a renewable energy provider, a handmade canvas bag or an organic brand of lemonade is as far as the Organic Bourgeois is willing to go.
Pirates of Kreuzberg, illustrated by Ulli Lust
3 Pirate voters
The rise of the Pirate party has been a Europe-wide phenomenon, but only in Germany have they made serious inroads into state parliaments. In May, there were polling at 11% of the national vote. The look of their candidates has been well documented: ponytail, facial hair, socks in sandals and T-shirts with insider jokes about Linux.
Who votes for them? Look at the stats and the typical pirate voter is male, aged 18-29 and well educated. He lives in Berlin’s Bohemian Kreuzberg borough and is a freelance graphic designer, working mostly on his Macbook in a cafe. He has a degree, but no secure regular income, which is why his parents still subsidise his rent.
The downwardly mobile media aristocrat. Illustration by Ulli Lust
Depending on his motivation, the kind of person who would vote for the Pirate party is commonly referred to as either a passive Sozialromantiker («social romantic») or an active Leistungsverweigerer («performance refusenik») – who believes that work-life balance is more important than a lucrative career.
According to a recent survey, 59% of German workers in top-end jobs said their desire for career advancement had waned in the last 50 weeks. One of few concrete proposals in the Pirate party programme is for an unconditional basic income for every member of society.
4 Media aristocrats
The hardworking hyphenated. Illustration by Ulli Lust
Postwar Germany has not been a particularly welcoming place for the aristocracy – too lasting was the damage wreaked by two world wars. But if the blue-blooded are less influential than in Britain, republican Germany still has an appetite for upper-class gossip, catered for by high-society soaps such as Verbotene Liebe and magazines like Gala.
There now exists a species of nobility who not so much shun the media spotlight but wallow in it. Modern media aristocrats include Prince Ernst August of Hanover, who was caught urinating in public behind the Turkish pavilion at Expo 2000; Ferfried von Hohenzollern, whose wedding to a nude model was recorded in a docu soap; or «prole prince» Marcus von Anhalt, who owns a chain of brothels.
If the upper classes used to attain to a certain sophistication in cultural matters, the media aristocracy’s tastes are downwardly mobile. They are less likely to be found stowed away in remote country piles than the watering pools of the Schickeria (from the Italian sciccheria, meaning elegance), such as P1 in Munich or the Pony club on the North Sea island of Sylt, where they rub shoulders with celebrity hairdressers, faded sportstars and reality TV stars.
For a while it looked like the media aristocracy might convert its cultural capital into real political power. Until a scandal about a plagiarised PhD forced his resignation as Angela Merkel’s defence secretary in 2011, Karl-Theodor zu Guttenberg had all the trappings of the new media elite. At his leaving ceremony, the army brass band played Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water.
She’s the boss. Illustration by Ulli Lust
5 Hyphenated Germans
In 2010 Angela Merkel was widely quoted saying that «multiculturalism … had utterly» failed; two years beforehand the Istanbul-born German lawyer Seyran Ates had published a book called Das Multikulti-Irrtum (the Multicultural Mistake). And yet it’s undeniable that multiculturalism – however you end up defining it – is a reality in modern Germany. Every fifth German has a migratory background, with children under six the rate is one in three.
What’s odd is that such a large part of the population is commonly regarded as a homogenous group: the common German expression is «Mensch mit Migrationshintergrund», person of migratory background. A study by the Sinus institute in Heidelberg in 2008 made steps towards changing that, by singling out separate types of multicultural Germans. It identified a young and growing group of second- or third-generation immigrants who identify as strongly with western lifestyles and supposed German qualities as with the ethnic background of their parents and grandparents.
A large number of them are Turkish Germans like the Real Madrid playmaker Mesut Özil – in whom, according to a Spiegel survey of 2010, more than half of Germany’s population see their values represented. They speak Turkish with a German accent and tend to rent expensive German cars when visiting relatives abroad.
According to the Sinus survey, they also have a stronger work ethic than Germans without a migratory background: 69% believe hard work will result in a successful career, compared with 57% rest of the population.
6 Bossy Ossis
It used to be a common assumption in reunited Germany that those born in the former GDR couldn’t be trusted with positions of power. Seventies footballer Günther Netzer voiced common prejudices in 2003, when he concluded that Görlitz-born midfielder Michael Ballack could never be a «natural leader» for the national team since he had been born in a society where «collective was king». On the one-hand there was the confident, patronising «Besser-Wessi», on the other the downtrodden, passive «Jammer-Ossi».
In 2012, those prejudices sound increasingly hollow: with the chancellor Angela Merkel and president Joachim Gauck, GDR-born politicians fill the two most important roles in public life no more than 23 years after reunification. For comparison: it took the United Kingdom 55 years to come up with the first Scottish prime minister.
Merkel may be the only eastern German in her own cabinet, and unemployment may still be nearly twice as high in the former east as in the west, but change is afoot, especially among women. A study by the Institut für Arbeitsmarkt und Berufsforschung found that in the last 10 years significantly more eastern German women penetrated leading positions in business and politics than those from the west. In public service, almost 45% of executive roles are filled by women born in the east.
One reason why eastern Germans might do so well in leadership roles is that they transcend traditional political categories. The pragmatist Merkel finds her counterpart on the left in the rising star of Die Linke, Sahra Wagenknecht, whose book Justice instead of Capitalism advocates «creative socialism» along liberal guidelines and has drawn unlikely praise from hedge fund managers and conservative grandees.
Disgruntled of Stuttgart. Illustration by Ulli Lust
The «Wutbürger» stepped into the limelight in late 2009: after Stuttgart city council allowed a controversial urban development project to go ahead, a group of disgruntled locals took to the street to voice concern. Over the next few months, the protests grew in size from the hundreds to the thousands; in September 2010 clashes with the police led to people being arrested and hospitalised. An elderly engineer was nearly blinded by a water cannon.
Germany is no stranger to public protests, but these demonstrators looked different. There were few young idealists with dreadlocks or shaven heads. Some were environmentalists who had developed their taste for demos in 1968; others political conservatives concerned about the destruction of their city’s architectural heritage. Many were pensioners.
Spiegel journalist Dirk Kurbjuweit, who coined the term Wutbürger, classifies them as «conservative, prosperous and not young. They used to be supportive of the state; now they are deeply scandalised by the state of modern politics». Anger citizens are not just outraged by local politics: they also complain noisily about lazy Greeks, corrupt bureaucrats and immigrants who don’t teach their children to speak German.
Many see them as emblematic of a wider demographic shift: a new political centre made up of the country’s growing army of pensioners, which is increasingly sceptical about the benefits of globalisation, aggravated about modern politicians and nervous about what inflation might do to their savings.
Ethical consumerism, illustrated by Ulli Lust
2 Organic bourgeoisie
The 1980s witnessed the rise of the «Öko» type, the knitted Scandinavian jumper-wearing ecowarrior who makes his own muesli, protests against nuclear energy and buys his dinkelbrot (spelt bread) in the bioladen (organic food shop). Today green ideas are mainstream, and the Öko has been replaced with a new social stereotype, often referred to as «Bionade Biedermeier» – named after the organic lemonade and the Biedermeier period of 1815-1827 that witnessed the rise of Central Europe’s bourgeoisie. Commonly spotted in the Schanzenviertel quarter of Hamburg, Prenzlauer Berg in Berlin or Agnesviertel in Cologne, the Organic Bourgeoisie defines itself less through hairshirt ascetism than ethical consumerism, less through political activism than green lifestyle. They still recycle their rubbish, but only give half as much money to charity as their British counterparts – choosing a renewable energy provider, a handmade canvas bag or an organic brand of lemonade is as far as the Organic Bourgeois is willing to go.
Pirates of Kreuzberg, illustrated by Ulli Lust
3 Pirate voters
The rise of the Pirate party has been a Europe-wide phenomenon, but only in Germany have they made serious inroads into state parliaments. In May, there were polling at 11% of the national vote. The look of their candidates has been well documented: ponytail, facial hair, socks in sandals and T-shirts with insider jokes about Linux.
Who votes for them? Look at the stats and the typical pirate voter is male, aged 18-29 and well educated. He lives in Berlin’s Bohemian Kreuzberg borough and is a freelance graphic designer, working mostly on his Macbook in a cafe. He has a degree, but no secure regular income, which is why his parents still subsidise his rent.
The downwardly mobile media aristocrat. Illustration by Ulli Lust
Depending on his motivation, the kind of person who would vote for the Pirate party is commonly referred to as either a passive Sozialromantiker («social romantic») or an active Leistungsverweigerer («performance refusenik») – who believes that work-life balance is more important than a lucrative career.
According to a recent survey, 59% of German workers in top-end jobs said their desire for career advancement had waned in the last 50 weeks. One of few concrete proposals in the Pirate party programme is for an unconditional basic income for every member of society.
4 Media aristocrats
The hardworking hyphenated. Illustration by Ulli Lust
Postwar Germany has not been a particularly welcoming place for the aristocracy – too lasting was the damage wreaked by two world wars. But if the blue-blooded are less influential than in Britain, republican Germany still has an appetite for upper-class gossip, catered for by high-society soaps such as Verbotene Liebe and magazines like Gala.
There now exists a species of nobility who not so much shun the media spotlight but wallow in it. Modern media aristocrats include Prince Ernst August of Hanover, who was caught urinating in public behind the Turkish pavilion at Expo 2000; Ferfried von Hohenzollern, whose wedding to a nude model was recorded in a docu soap; or «prole prince» Marcus von Anhalt, who owns a chain of brothels.
If the upper classes used to attain to a certain sophistication in cultural matters, the media aristocracy’s tastes are downwardly mobile. They are less likely to be found stowed away in remote country piles than the watering pools of the Schickeria (from the Italian sciccheria, meaning elegance), such as P1 in Munich or the Pony club on the North Sea island of Sylt, where they rub shoulders with celebrity hairdressers, faded sportstars and reality TV stars.
For a while it looked like the media aristocracy might convert its cultural capital into real political power. Until a scandal about a plagiarised PhD forced his resignation as Angela Merkel’s defence secretary in 2011, Karl-Theodor zu Guttenberg had all the trappings of the new media elite. At his leaving ceremony, the army brass band played Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water.
She’s the boss. Illustration by Ulli Lust
5 Hyphenated Germans
In 2010 Angela Merkel was widely quoted saying that «multiculturalism … had utterly» failed; two years beforehand the Istanbul-born German lawyer Seyran Ates had published a book called Das Multikulti-Irrtum (the Multicultural Mistake). And yet it’s undeniable that multiculturalism – however you end up defining it – is a reality in modern Germany. Every fifth German has a migratory background, with children under six the rate is one in three.
What’s odd is that such a large part of the population is commonly regarded as a homogenous group: the common German expression is «Mensch mit Migrationshintergrund», person of migratory background. A study by the Sinus institute in Heidelberg in 2008 made steps towards changing that, by singling out separate types of multicultural Germans. It identified a young and growing group of second- or third-generation immigrants who identify as strongly with western lifestyles and supposed German qualities as with the ethnic background of their parents and grandparents.
A large number of them are Turkish Germans like the Real Madrid playmaker Mesut Özil – in whom, according to a Spiegel survey of 2010, more than half of Germany’s population see their values represented. They speak Turkish with a German accent and tend to rent expensive German cars when visiting relatives abroad.
According to the Sinus survey, they also have a stronger work ethic than Germans without a migratory background: 69% believe hard work will result in a successful career, compared with 57% rest of the population.
6 Bossy Ossis
It used to be a common assumption in reunited Germany that those born in the former GDR couldn’t be trusted with positions of power. Seventies footballer Günther Netzer voiced common prejudices in 2003, when he concluded that Görlitz-born midfielder Michael Ballack could never be a «natural leader» for the national team since he had been born in a society where «collective was king». On the one-hand there was the confident, patronising «Besser-Wessi», on the other the downtrodden, passive «Jammer-Ossi».
In 2012, those prejudices sound increasingly hollow: with the chancellor Angela Merkel and president Joachim Gauck, GDR-born politicians fill the two most important roles in public life no more than 23 years after reunification. For comparison: it took the United Kingdom 55 years to come up with the first Scottish prime minister.
Merkel may be the only eastern German in her own cabinet, and unemployment may still be nearly twice as high in the former east as in the west, but change is afoot, especially among women. A study by the Institut für Arbeitsmarkt und Berufsforschung found that in the last 10 years significantly more eastern German women penetrated leading positions in business and politics than those from the west. In public service, almost 45% of executive roles are filled by women born in the east.
One reason why eastern Germans might do so well in leadership roles is that they transcend traditional political categories. The pragmatist Merkel finds her counterpart on the left in the rising star of Die Linke, Sahra Wagenknecht, whose book Justice instead of Capitalism advocates «creative socialism» along liberal guidelines and has drawn unlikely praise from hedge fund managers and conservative grandees.
Me quedo con los pirate, lástima que son well educated, pero bueh, nadie es perfecto.