Oktoberfest still one great party: German politics, regional differences and the transition to the euro fail to dampen spirits at the famous festival celebrating culture, tradition and the world's best beer

Insight on the News, Nov 26, 2002 by Hans S. Nichols

Five million liters of beer, 350,000 chickens, 51,000 pork knuckles and 77 roasted oxen. This was, after all, Oktoberfest in Munich. Oh yes, and during this 16-day celebration a mere 23,000 liters of wine passed partygoers' lips. To quaff wine on these Munich fields is somewhat verboten. Here, amid billowing beer tents and bulging beer bellies, vegetarians and teetotalers might feel a little out of place.

But if drinking strong lagers from sturdy steins with local Bavarians on crammed benches and in either tight leather shorts (worn by men) or low-cropped dresses (worn by women) sounds like fun, then you might want to fly into Munich some crisp October.

The above numbers--5 million liters of beer translates to 1.3 million gallons--were from last year's fest, when shock and grieving over the Sept. 11 attacks against the United States almost caused the world's largest beer party to be canceled. The event went on but in somewhat subdued tones. This year, 5.7 million liters of beer were consumed. A total tally of chickens has not been made, but the numbers are expected to be much higher.

Sadly, Oktoberfest is no stranger to terrorism. A bomb attack in 1980 killed 13 people outside the fairgrounds and injured another 200. Nor have other world-class German events been safe from hijacking. It was during the Munich Summer Olympics 30 years ago that an ambitious terrorist by the name of Yasser Arafat made a name for his organization--the PLO--by orchestrating the killing of members of the Israeli team.

Compared with last year, the tone was decidedly more festive this fall, according to many lifetime participants.

Indeed, getting into the tents required hour-long waits, as they were stretched beyond their capacity. "People are happier this year. I think in a way they needed last year to happen to help them realize how good it's been since the terrible bomb attack in 1980. The people are nicer," says Annie Cameron of the Munich Caledonian Association.

Despite the fight security, the event was not without violence or mishap. Toward the end of the evening a drunken brawl or two is to be expected, and all throughout the day the sound of ambulances was heard, ministering to the inebriated, some of whom are carted off to a special "idiots' tent" where they are taken to seek sobriety. All this, say veteran Oktoberfesters, is evidence of one great party.

This year Bavarians were ready to drink again, and drink they did. For 16 days in late September and early October they drank in the rain and they drank in the sun. They drank before noon and didn't stop until the taps were turned off at 10:30. They drank while waiting in line to enter the crowded beer tents and then drank more inside. They stood on tables, chanting and cheering and occasionally breaking their glasses with a forceful toast.

Outside the tents, amusement-park rides awaited those revelers with certified Kevlar stomachs. A stout Bavarian tells INSIGHT, in a heavy southern German dialect, that Oktoberfest is about many things--culture, tradition and a rite of passage, to name a few. But most of all, he slurs, it's about the drinking.

The only downer for Bavarians this year was that the Bavarian premier, Edmund Stoiber, won't come back next year as Germany's chancellor, as he promised at the fest one day before the election, as partygoers drank with the stamina of marathoners and the speed of sprinters. Many political analysts have said that Bavaria won't have another chance at the chancellery for many years because of lingering snobbery toward southern Germans.

Politics, however, was not on many menus in any of the 14 tents, which can hold about 20,000 people each. For these 16 days, regional differences hardly seemed to matter. Still, it should be noted that as sturdy Bavarians downed liter upon liter of beer in the south (along with droves of tourists who come close to perverting the fest), Berlin held its annual marathon.

Regional differences and the failed dreams of their premier, however, stood no chance of preventing Bavarians from enjoying their traditional fest. And unlike the rest of Germany, which suffers from a sloughing economy, Bavaria has much to celebrate, with an unemployment rate close to that of the United States. Oktoberfest itself is expected to harvest $980 million for the region and provides jobs for 16,000 people. In fact, the waiters who service the event act as independent contractors, buying the beer from the breweries and then selling it for a profit, at just over 6 euros per liter. For a country with perhaps the most rigid labor regulations in Europe, such free-market undertones also may explain why Bavaria is the economic engine in the continent's largest economy.

Even so, Bavarians and their capital city, Munich (a "village of 1 million people"), are not immune from dictates from Brussels. Like other food goods in the European zone, the beer at Oktoberfest is subject to what economists are calling "euro-creep," making food and drink more expensive than it would have been under the old nationalist monetary system. This year, a liter of beer costs the equivalent of more than $6, while it's been closer to $5 in more recent years.