It may not be quite peace on earth, and the degree of goodwill to all men is questionable, but the festive season has brought an apparent ceasefire in Berlin's cultural funding battle. After months of threats and legal squabbles, Deutsches Sinfonie-Orchester chief conductor Kent Nagano has agreed in principle to renew his contract beyond 2003, and the mud-slinging over organizational boss Bettina Pesch seems to have stopped.

Few local observers seriously believed Nagano's resignation threats. The mystery for most was why he was making such a fuss. For a short but blissful time in late summer, it looked as though Berlin's turbulent orchestral scene had finally reached a state of calm. Simon Rattle had signed his contract with the Berlin Philharmonic, Daniel Barenboim had agreed to stay on with the Staatskapelle, both conductors had won major salary increases for their players, and everybody seemed happy. Then, with the onset of autumn, Nagano stepped into the media spotlight.

Pesch, formerly managing director of the Leipzig Opera, had been appointed over his head as Intendantin (artistic director with managerial responsibilities) of the organization of which his orchestra is a part, he complained. Unless the situation was remedied, he would step down.

It was hard enough for locals to understand the nature of his complaint, harder still for outsiders. Nagano's orchestra, the DSO, is a member of ROC, or Rundfunk-Orchester und Chöre GmbH, an umbrella organization founded back in 1995 in response to the post-reunification problems that threatened the continued existence of Berlin's radio orchestras and choirs. It was at best an interim solution, an unwieldy alliance of city and national governments with two Berlin radio stations to provide funding for the former East Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra (RSB) and Choir (Rundfunkchor), and the former West Berlin Radio Orchestra (DSO), Chamber Choir (RIAS-Kammerchor) and RIAS Big Band.

Quite why any city should need two radio symphony orchestras has never been clear and it's not surprising that the ROC has found it a struggle to find money to pay all those musicians. At present it is said to clock an annual deficit of DM6 million (€ 3.07 million), an embarrassment for any institution. A cannibalistic relationship between the two orchestras was inevitable. But it was only when American star conductor Kent Nagano was appointed to succeed Vladimir Ashkenazy as chief conductor of the DSO in 2000 that the internal struggle began in earnest. As a condition for acceptance, Nagano demanded extra funds for the DSO; since the money couldn't be conjured from thin air, it was decided to lop it from the RSB's budget, cutting jobs and reducing concert plans for the country's oldest radio orchestra.

Despite its rich history and unquestionably high musical standards, the RSB has always been weak in arguing its case politically. Its reduction to a chamber orchestra to make way for Nagano's ambitious programming plans seemed a fait accompli until an eleventh-hour decision instead to dissolve the RIAS Big Band. The RSB was reprieved and Nagano got his extra money. Everybody was happy. Right?

Wrong. The ROC, still a troubled institution, appointed the financially experienced Pesch, a trained lawyer, as its new Intendantin. Her goal was to unify the organization, clarify its aims and defend its overall interests. This might meant an initial loss of profile for the component ensembles, but it seemed a small price to pay.

Nagano took umbrage. According to his contract he had the right to be consulted over the appointment of any Intendant. Pesch has been presented to him, he argued, only as a managing director, and it was only in this capacity that he had agreed to her appointment. If she were to have powers of artistic decision-making, he refused to work with her.

Nagano's arguments were at best unclear. Was he being instrumentalized by a rival contender for Pesch's post? It seemed possible. True, the fewer people in the ROC command chain, the more power he would have; theoretically Pesch could make things administratively more complicated but in practice it seemed unlikely that she would exercise her artistic authority over Nagano.

Others speculated that Nagano was seeking a legitimate excuse to abandon his Berlin post in favor of a more prestigious job — in Munich as Levine's successor, perhaps, or in Leipzig or Hamburg, where he could be a bigger fish in a smaller pond and would no longer have to beg for every penny. In Berlin, Nagano must share the limelight with Barenboim and Rattle and his orchestra can only appear in the Philharmonie when the concert hall's own orchestra, the Berlin Philharmonic, sees fit to allocate it performance dates. The Berlin Philharmonic, predictably, prefers to keep Fridays and weekends for itself. Nagano may well have overestimated the prestige of his DSO post when he accepted the job. In any case, Barenboim and Rattle had both recently demonstrated that a capacity for tough political negotiation was an essential part of being a star in a national capital, and Nagano seemed determined to follow suit.

Berlin's cultural senator, Adrienne Goehler, stepped in to sort out the fight. Pesch was asked if she'd mind relinquishing the Intendantin part of her official title; Nagano declared that he wanted his own personal DSO Intendant in the person of Ulrich Eckhardt (who for many years ran the Berlin Festival). Nagano will probably have his way regarding Eckhardt, even though the extra post will cost the ROC money that it doesn't have. Chances of skimming further funds from the RSB are dwindling, now that the orchestra has succeeded in winning Marek Janowski as its chief conductor. Janowski, though an old-school musician who is unlikely to bring the orchestra the defining artistic profile it will need to ensure its long-term survival in Berlin's overcrowded orchestral scene, is at least a reputable leader with the clout to defend his ensemble from further incursions.

Nagano's squabbles with Pesch were not worthy of the press attention accorded them; the injustices committed against him were largely in his own imagination. With Goehler's help the opponents settled into an uneasy truce, and as Christmas neared, Nagano agreed, to everybody's relief, to enter negotiations for a contract renewal beyond 2003.

Nobody denies that under Nagano the DSO's standards have improved, morale has lifted, programs have become more interesting and original, audience attendance has increased, and Berlin's cultural life as a whole has benefited. Among his conditions for a new contract are a less bureaucratic working environment, more clear delegation of decision-making tasks, and more artistic automomy. None of these things are bad. But Nagano's stated hope that one day his DSO players will have wage parity with the Berlin Philharmonic is utterly unrealistic. The DSO is a fine orchestra, but it still does not come close to Berlin Philharmonic standards. As it is, the DSO already receives significantly more annual funding than the RSB — DM21 million (€ 10.7 million), as compared to DM17.5 million (€ 8.95 million) for the latter group.

If Nagano really wants to help Berlin, he could start with a less antagonistic approach to the organization which funds his orchestra, and a little more fraternal warmth for his orchestra's sibling ensembles. In the end, they're all in the same boat.