By early afternoon on the first Sunday of
Oktoberfest this past weekend, the Bräurosl beer tent in
Munich was already filled with thousands of merry revelers in lederhosen, singing and drinking.
At one table, Christian Schröder, an electrician from
Stuttgart, sat with his partner of 10 years,
Thomas Hartmann. “This is to the gays!” Mr. Schröder shouted. “The right to do this is what we fight for!”
There’s
a simple rule at Munich’s world-famous Oktoberfest: It’s all about the
fun. Politics isn’t supposed to play a role at all in the 16-day event,
which annually attracts more than 5 million visitors and floods Munich
with parties, parties, and more parties.
But
at Oktoberfest celebrations like “Gay Sunday” – one of several events
dedicated to gays and lesbians that now draw thousands of revelers –
politics has inevitably seeped into the mix. At a time when gay Germans
are fighting hard for the right to marry, activists quietly say that
their increasingly high visibility at Oktoberfest – perhaps the most
quintessentially German cultural event – is forcing others to take
notice.
Currently, permanent partnerships are allowed under the
law, though gay couples can only be in registered partnerships that
don’t enjoy the same benefits, such as tax savings, as do marriages. As
the matter winds through the courts, it has deeply split
Germany’s pro-business and center-right ruling coalition.
The classically liberal
Free Democratic Party – which has many prominent gay members, including
Foreign Minister Guido Westerwelle – has pushed hard for gays’ full equality. But the more socially conservative
Christian Democratic Union and its sister party in
Bavaria, the Christian Social Union, haven’t been so enthusiastic.
Chancellor Angela Merkel,
a Christian Democrat, has been particularly reticent, saying in August
that “it would be good at this point to wait for the court's decision,”
on the tax issue.
Some gay rights activists believe more
visibility may be key to changing the political climate in their favor.
While the issue isn’t as polarizing as in the
United States,
religious and social conservatives, particularly in Bavaria, have
expressed alarm at German proposals to make gay marriage legal, as it
already is in eight European countries.
“No one would want to
see Oktoberfest become officially political, but just the fact that gays
and lesbians can go there in lederhosen, can hold hands and kiss, does
have political meaning,” says Thomas Niederbühl, a longtime Munich city
council member and a member of the local Pink List gay rights party. “We
are playing more of a role in German society. By being at Oktoberfest,
people recognize that we are no longer some small group on the fringes
of everyday life.”
Though explicit talk of gay rights are
scrupulously avoided during the so-called Pink Oktoberfest, politicians,
including Munich’s powerful center-left mayor
Christian Ude,
make high-profile appearances there. For years Mr. Ude has been
appearing briefly conducting the orchestra playing traditional Bavarian
tunes. Mr. Niederbühl, well known in Bavarian political circles, is
another figure who shows up.
Probably the most popular
celebrations during Pink Oktoberfest, Gay Sunday has its roots in the
1970s with a gay organization known as the Munich Lions Club, which
organized a meet-up during Oktoberfest’s first Sunday at the Bräurosl
tent – supposedly named after the daughter of a beer firm founder.
As gay rights gained steam in the late 1980s and into the 1990s, their Sunday meeting became a destination in itself.
“These
days you can barely find room in the tent,” said Lion’s Club board
member Dieter Weissenborn, who helps run a smaller event on a tent
balcony for only Lion’s Club supporters.
For Schröder, Gay Sunday
means a break from the dreariness of daily work back home. But, he said,
it also shows how gays are becoming more involved in some of Germany’s
most famous traditions.
“This is just a great time, but in another
way I’ve very proud to say that I can openly be here with him,”
Schröder said pointing to his partner.
