Big City Bosses

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But at the same time, Wowereit has been investing in Berlin as what the mayor describes as a "city of glamour." When Universal Music moved its German headquarters from Hamburg to Berlin, he grabbed the chance to bolster Berlin as a city of music, culture and creativity. He lured the annual youth fashion trade show, Bread & Butter, away from Cologne, and he encouraged Hollywood directors to shoot films like The Bourne Supremacy and the upcoming Mission Impossible III in the capital. These moves have helped Berlin's economy, but it's the cachet Wowereit's after. "The most decisive aspect is to bring creative young people to Berlin," he says. "I like to compare Berlin to London in the swinging 1980s. London was in a bad economic situation but had a great deal of creativity and a positive mood."

And Berliners are starting to feel more positive about their city, too. Wowereit's promotion of everything from techno parades to nights out at the opera has given Berliners a new appreciation of the capital's cultural richness. And that's having a knock-on effect in bringing visitors to the city. In 2004, almost 6 million tourists came to Berlin, nearly 19% more than in 2003. "Wowereit's strength lies in the fact that he's not timid in dealing with the media," says Nicolas Zimmer of the opposition Christian Democratic Union. "He can sell issues."

It doesn't hurt his sales pitch that he's lived in Berlin all his life. Raised in the Lichtenrade district near the Berlin Wall, Wowereit was the first member of his family to go to high school, an opportunity he has always attributed to the education policies of the spd. He joined the party at 18, and rocketed through the ranks. At 31, he became the city's youngest municipal councillor in Berlin's Tempelhof district, and in 1995 he was elected to the city's parliament.

In June 2001, Wowereit took his biggest, and bravest, step yet. Worried that a tabloid newspaper was about to publish details of his personal life, he proudly declared in a televised speech that, "I'm gay, and that's a good thing." Until then such openness had been unprecedented in Germany, and Wowereit was the first top politician in the country to out himself as being homosexual. After the speech, the spd formally nominated him as its mayoral candidate and later that week — after a financial scandal toppled the city's conservative-led government — Wowereit took over as acting mayor.

Though Wowereit remains personally popular, many people criticize his financial management. He is seeking money from the federal government, arguing that it's simply not possible to dig Berlin out of its current hole. But critics say the mayor has made that hole deeper by devoting just 1% of the budget this year to economic development, less than is spent on subsidizing culture and sports, and allowing the expansion of Schönefeld airport — a key factor in attracting foreign investment — to be delayed by planning blunders. "It's a mistake to focus so much on service industries and not do more to strengthen the city's industrial base," says Dieter Vesper, an economist with the German Institute for Economic Research in Berlin.

Wowereit shrugs off suggestions that he should spend less time in front of TV cameras and more time in corporate boardrooms. "This kind of promotion is part of my personality, but it's also important to show the savoir vivre you can feel that makes the city so attractive internationally," Wowereit says. And since taking office, he has emphasized that Berlin's economic future depends as much on science and technology as it does on entertainment and services. So he's a big promoter of biotech and information technology, initiating the €19.5 million profit program to support innovation and contributing city-owned buildings to the Max Delbrück Center, which now houses Germany's highest concentration of biotech companies. "Even though the financial and economic situation of a city may be bad," Wowereit says, "you must show a sense of enjoyment in life."

Bertrand Delanoe / Paris
The Quality Controller
In 2002, Bertrand Delanoe was stabbed in the stomach by an unemployed man who said he didn't like homosexuals or politicians. Delanoë, 54, is — unapologetically — both. A protégé of François Mitterrand, Delanoë has always had a passion for politics, and the zone of his political activity has always been Paris.

Born in Tunisia, Delanoë first visited the French capital at the age of 18, and since then has been convinced that "my life could not unfold without this city." When he returned to his office six weeks after the stabbing, Delanoë announced that "this house will remain open." He now travels with a bodyguard, but there has been no let-up in his commitment to visibility — or his determination to make Paris a great place to live as well as work. "I simply don't accept the idea that quality of life isn't compatible with economic vitality," he says from his vast office at the Hôtel de Ville, where a figurine by French sculptor Niki de Saint Phalle nestles in neo-Renaissance surroundings. "We see it when companies decide where they want to be: quality of life, quality of the air are factors. Any 21st century mayor has to see that."

Delanoë is convinced that in a city like Paris, the mayor's job isn't just making the trains run on time, but improving the environment and giving a spark of panache to civic life. That's what inspired the city's White Night, an annual all-night arts extravaganza during which city hall and other municipal facilities stay open to the public (he was stabbed at the inaugural event). Paris has also become greener since Delanoë took office, with bus lanes on many Parisian boulevards and a new tramway under construction. But the best known initiative of Delanoë's mayoralty unfolds every July, when sandbags are emptied and umbrellas are planted along the Right Bank of the Seine to form Paris Plage, the impromptu 3-km beach enjoyed for the past couple of years by about 3 million Parisians.

Wiry and wired, Delanoë stays on the move and in the public eye. "I can't say I'm a fan of the man," says Augustin Johnson, an engineer who supports the opposition, "but he gets things done." Delanoë has devoted a lot of energy to Paris' bid for the 2012 Olympics, and if the French win at the ioc meeting in July, both the city and Delanoë will receive an impetus that will last beyond the next elections, which must be held by 2008. But not everyone thinks Delanoë's gift for sound and fury amounts to much. "He excels in the operations of charm," snipes opposition Deputy Bernard Debré. "But behind the spangles, Parisians are discovering that he promises more than he delivers." The mayor's initiative to consider building a few artful skyscrapers foundered after public opposition; small businesses complain his bus lanes choke off trade; and residents of certain quarters grumble that the city could be cleaner. It's just another reminder that a mayor's work is never done.