The Superminister's Dilemma

Publishing houses exert "unusual" pressure on the Economics and Labor Minister. Also: Cannes snubs the Germans - again

Londoners wouldn't bat an eye, but any American living outside of New York City would likely be impressed by the sheer number of decent newspapers stacked up in the kiosks of Berlin. Tabloids aside, Berliners can choose between a handful of quality national papers and three city dailies. But with ad revenues still weak and no sign whatsoever of an upturn in the German economy for the foreseeable future, it's all but inevitable that the kiosks will soon be a bit less bountiful (see Booking Losses and The Incredible Shrinking Mediascape).

The disappearance of one or more Berlin papers won't come as a surprise, but the way the big publishing houses behind them are attempting to keep a foothold in the capital's market is increasingly bizarre. Bertelsmann is the majority owner of Gruner + Jahr, which in turn, owns the largest of the three, the Berliner Zeitung (circulation: 192,000, primarily in the eastern half of the city). In a selling spree, G+J offered the paper to Holtzbrinck, which publishes Der Tagesspiegel (139,000, mostly westerners). Holtzbrinck wants to consolidate the nuts-n-bolts departments of the two papers (ads, printing, etc.) while keeping the editorial staffs separate, an arrangement somewhat similar to what the Axel Springer Verlag has done with its national, Die Welt, and its Berliner Morgenpost (150,000).

But Springer objects, arguing that the sale would come close to giving Holtzbrinck a monopoly (the house would also then run both "city magazines," Zitty and tip, sort of a slicker equivalent of alternative weeklies in the US), and two offices that oversee antitrust matters agreed. Holtzbrinck has since appealed to Wolfgang Clement, a former newspaper man himself and now the Economics and Labor Minister, a cabinet post Chancellor Schröder created with such a broad swath of duties Clement is often called a "superminister." Both Holtzbrinck and Springer have written missives to Clement he has termed "unusual," and indeed, they could be read without too much exaggeration as political blackmail.

If Clement overturns the decisions of the Federal Cartel Office and Monopoly Commission, Springer says it'll kill Die Welt. If he doesn't, Holtzbrinck will bury Der Tagesspiegel. Both point to the lost jobs and disgruntled readers that'll be on Clement's head whichever option he settles for. King Solomon himself would be rather stuck, and as Enno Dobberke outlines in Telepolis (see Wie sensibel ist Wolfgang Clement?), it gets worse: If Clement, a social democrat, grants Holtzbrinck the exemption, it'll set a precedent Springer, publisher of conservative papers and tabloids, will take advantage of in markets throughout the country; if he doesn't, Berlin will be left with a voice of the conservative opposition and fading alternatives.

He decides on May 13.

Elsewhere

It's not in English, but a quick summary of an article in the current issue of Der Spiegel will do. When the line-up for this year's film festival in Cannes was announced last week, German filmmakers learned they'd been shut out of the competition for the tenth straight year. But instead of tearing their clothes and gnashing their teeth as they have in the past, Germans are pretty much blowing off the snub this year. Why? Two reasons, basically.

The first is the Berlinale, which, under director Dieter Kosslick, has become a noted showcase for German movies (see Who Will Save German Cinema?). Wim Wenders, who has personally and furiously campaigned for German cinema to Cannes director Thierry Frémaux, now tells Der Spiegel, "When good German films are shown in Berlin, there's not much use in the lament over Cannes." Secondly, as German filmmakers move away from the subsidy-dependent auteur model and shoot movies that appeal to audiences and critics alike, they're relying less on festivals to score better box office and more international attention. Two cases in point would be the Oscar for Caroline Link's Nowhere in Africa and the five million tickets sold and plenty of international press coverage for Good Bye, Lenin! (see What Happened When the Wall Fell?).