Thoughts Are Free
Page 22
“What? You don’t know? I saved your ass, man!” I said in a cowboy drawl. “While you were lounging around in your luxury cellar we were kicking off—big-style.”
Martin propped himself up on a million pillows while I told him what we’d been doing, hassling the Stasi, the demos, getting people sorted, kicking the fash out. He looked impressed.
“So now Antifa groups are working with Neighbourhood and District Round Tables.” I took one of Martin’s oranges and started peeling it. Little green things they were, Cuban. “They’re doing the debriefing—loads of the skins are talking, saying they didn’t actually want to be Nazis, they just got dragged into it. I don’t believe the fuckers for a minute, but Rex said that they’re getting loads of info, they’re tracking down the people who were pulling all the strings—the suits. Fuckers.”
I started on another orange, offering one to Martin, but he shook his head.
“And you know that house you set fire to? Totally burnt down. The fire brigade turned up, but they just stood there and watched it burn.” I grinned.
I could see Martin was getting tired so I told him I’d see him the next day.
Outside in the corridor I bumped into Erika.
“Erika!” I gave her a hug and she gave me a squeeze back. That was nice, it felt like we were a team now.
“Karo, I’m glad I bumped into you. I wanted to ask you about giving us a hand with investigating the Nazi structures.”
“You’d be better off talking to the Antifa—that’s Rex’s department.”
“Yeah, I know, but I thought it would be good to work with you. You’d be our link to the Antifa and the other grassroots groups around the country—we need some help with keeping in touch with them all.”
I thought about it. It sounded a bit boring, but kind of cool as well. “Martin’s good at that kind of thing—why can’t he do it?”
Erika looked down the corridor, towards the ward where Martin was. “I think he needs a break, don’t you?”
“He needs more than a break—you should have seen him at the Datsche!”
Erika nodded. She knew what I meant.
“Laura’s sorted it out with the Ministry. He’s going to get paid leave.”
“Laura? Would I have to work with her? And that Nik too?”
“Give them a chance. We’ve all been a bit stressed lately.”
“OK, I’ll think about it. But on one condition.” There was a promise I’d made to myself, and working with RS could help me with that. “There’s one particular Nazi I need to track down—it’s a personal score I need to settle.”
“OK, but nothing illegal.”
I just laughed.
The next time I went to see Martin I bumped into Rico, the cute Border Guard. We had a quick chat near the entrance. He was dead embarrassed, blushing and stammering, poor sap.
“Martin says you’re going to tidy up the East Side,” he said.
It’s not the way I’d have put it myself, but yep, I’d had a chat with some of the Wagenburgs in Berlin and they were going to go and sort out the East Side—both the site and the people. All part of the new job at RS I told him, breathing on my nails and polishing them on my chest.
“I know that Customs Obersekretär Reinhardt wants to investigate the smuggling that’s been going on-”
I was confused for a moment, and then I worked out who he was talking about. “Kalle? Yeah, all sorted. I’m seeing him about it this afternoon, we’re going to go and have a look.”
Rico blushed again.
Referendum Day
Sunday 3rd April 1994
Berlin: Polling stations have been busy throughout the Republic as citizens and residents vote in the triple referendum. Voting closes at 10 o’clock this evening.
Dresden: The State Prosecutor for Saxony, Dr. Harry Kern, will announce immunity from prosecution for those involved in the events of last Monday. Criminal proceedings will only be opened at the specific request of a Neighbourhood or District Round Table, he said. The Central Round Table in Berlin has welcomed the statement, commenting that it will give communities the room to implement local accountability processes against offenders. Similar statements are expected to be made by State Prosecution Offices in the other Regions.
Martin
I didn’t have far to go—the local polling station was just next door in the Kulturbund rooms. But in my mind I had a much longer journey to make. I hobbled down the stairs, putting my bad leg down first, then gingerly hopping after it. My stick tapped each time I winced down another step.
It was my first full day at home. I’d insisted on leaving the hospital, I couldn’t stand lying around on the overheated ward. I wanted to be at home, responsible for looking after myself, not having my food wheeled in and a nurse tutting at me whenever I asked to be let out. They’d been worried about my burns and my head, wanted to keep me in longer.
Bottom step, pause, breathe deeply to settle the pain, then down the hall, past the letter boxes.
I turned sideways to haul open the heavy front door, standing on my good leg and using the stick for balance. Then a few steps down the street, into the next building.
I stood in the entrance of the Kulturbund centre. To my right was the polling station, and on the other side was the hall where we held our communal Sunday lunch. I could hear voices, laughter coming from the hall, human warmth emanating through the half-open door. I decided I could use some of that warmth. I would eat before I voted.
I went over to the food table, looking at the dishes that my neighbours had brought. Picking up a plate I hesitated for a moment, unsure where to put my stick while I served myself.
“Here, you can give me that.” It was Margrit, smiling at me, laughing at my clumsiness.
But before I could give her my stick she’d stepped forward and enveloped me in a big hug. I gasped and Margrit stepped back sharply.
“Sorry! Oh, Martin, you look terrible—are you in a lot of pain?” She stroked a burnt eyebrow with her forefinger.
I just shook my head and eased myself out of her clasp.
“If I go and sit down would you bring me a plate of food?”
I tapped over to the nearest table, and lowered myself into a seat, stretching out my dodgy leg, trying not to look too much like the invalid I obviously was. As soon as I’d got myself settled more neighbours came over, clapping me on the shoulder, shaking my hand. It was kindly meant, and in a way I appreciated it, but I was embarrassed all the same.
Margrit came over with my plate.
“What a week! I’m so proud of all of us.” She gave me a serious look, “I’m so proud of you.”
I muttered something and started eating my food.
“I was at EKL, sitting at my workbench, minding my own business. And then the word went around—we’re dealing with the fascists. The whole factory marched out, and I had the same feeling as I did that night, in Leipzig. Back then we were worried about the Chinese Solution. Remember, they brought in the army, we thought they were going to shoot us.” Margrit’s eyes were seeing the past, she was part of her story. “But still we marched.”
Her eyes sought out mine, needing to share the fear and the strength and the determination of that time. “And last Monday was just like that.”
She paused, putting her hand on my sleeve. I wasn’t eating now, just listening to her. I’d heard the story already. Everyone who’d come to visit me at hospital, colleagues and friends alike, they’d all told me. Karo had come every day, and she’d told me every day. It was the same story, everyone had the same story, but different. Different for each person, for each Kiez, each neighbourhood, each town and each village.
She shook her head again, astounded at how easy it had been. When the word went out about the demonstrations, when the Weitlingstrasse squat went up in flames it was as if something snapped. People just said enough. They went out there and raided all the places the fascists meet, they went into flats and factories, meeting places, everywhere. There were a few in
juries, a rumour of a death down in Saxony. But everywhere people gave the fascists a choice: go, or stay and make amends to the community.
Margrit was jubilant, still on a high after experiencing once again the power of the people, the ability to make change happen. But her face grew suddenly serious. “But that was the easy part. Now the hard work begins.” She looked towards the window, at the town outside. “There’s a lot of tidying up to do, isn’t there?”
Standing in the booth I studied the slip of paper on the table.
“1. Should the existing installations along the State Border with the Federal Republic of Germany and between West Berlin and Berlin, Capital of the GDR, as well as between West Berlin and the Region Brandenburg be retained, including the maintenance of the first line of the forward barrier-elements, metal lattice-fencing, observation and command-towers?”
I picked up the pencil and put my cross in the yes box.
“2. Should the Volkskammer be mandated to approve the Round Table (Constitutional Amendment) 1994 Bill?”
Another vote for yes, anchoring the role of the Round Tables and the Works Councils into our democratic institutions, with a clear timetable for further devolution of power away from the Volkskammer and the six regional parliaments, giving more say to Round Tables at every level.
So far, so good. Next came the question on the Police (Constitutional Amendment) 1994 Bill. We were asked whether we thought Paragraph 96, article 15 of our constitution should be changed to explicitly forbid the establishment of counter-espionage bodies. If I put my cross in the ‘yes’ box I would be voting myself out of a job.
I thought of all the arguments I’d heard. I remembered all the pain caused by secret police and intelligence agencies in the past, the anti-democratic nature of their work. I thought of all the good we’d done at the Republikschutz. Was it possible to have an agency that defended its people from outside threats without itself becoming a threat to the people’s power? If that were possible, if there were any example of how to do it differently then my colleagues and I were that example. But we’d had little power, even fewer resources. What we’d achieved had been more through luck than intelligence.
I wielded the pencil, the tip almost grazing the paper as it wandered between the three boxes: Yes. No. Re-open Discussion.
In order to be democratic the organs of a state need to be accountable. But by the very nature of the work it was practically impossible to make counter-espionage agencies open and accountable, at least not in real time. I’d been thinking for weeks about this problem, about accountability. The secrecy surrounding the work. The complicated and political nature of it all. The real risks and danger involved. All these factors militated against accountability to anything but a closed committee with long-term membership. But by its nature such a committee would become corrupted, seduced by the cloak and dagger games of the spies.
There were no answers. We could only experiment, that was what the GDR was all about: experimentation.
I pressed the pencil to the paper, and with a hard, quick movement I voted myself out of a job.
I hope you enjoyed Thoughts Are Free
If you enjoyed this book then please lend it to a friend or take a moment to leave a review - thanks.
You may also be interested in the sequel, Spectre At The Feast which will be available in autumn 2017.
Do you want to know more about the GDR?
There’s plenty of features and background to the East Berlin Series on my website: www.maxhertzberg.co.uk - go on tours of Martin’s Berlin, listen to his music and find out more about his politics.
Any questions?
Feel free to drop me a line - a contact form is on my website, or you can find me on twitter @maxhertzberg
About the author
If you want to find me then best to start in Berlin, or failing that, try further east, somewhere in Eastern Europe. I’ll be doing research and working on ideas for my next book.
What did I do before I became a full-time author? I used to work on Stasi and SED (East German Communist Party) files - mostly the stuff related to opposition movements in the GDR, and also looking at security on the Berlin Wall.
Since then I’ve been a social change trainer and facilitator.
What else have I written?
The first book in the East Berlin Series is
Stealing The Future.
Before the East Berlin Series I co-wrote and edited the following non-fiction books:
A Consensus Handbook (2013), and
How to Set Up a Workers’ Co-operative (2012).
Want to know more? You may wish to sign up to my newsletter. I’ll keep you up-to-date with news and features, and you’ll have first access to sneak previews of future work.
With best wishes,
Max Hertzberg
www.maxhertzberg.co.uk
Copyright
E 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
ISBN: 978-0-9933247-2-7 (paperback),
ISBN: 978-0-9933247-3-4 (epub)
Published in 2016 by Wolf Press.
www.wolfpress.co.uk
Copyright ©Max Hertzberg 2016.
Max Hertzberg has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
Cover photograph copyright ©Georgie Pauwels, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 International Licence.
Maps derived from OpenStreetMap. Copyright © OpenStreetMap and contributors.
www.openstreetmap.org/copyright.
Text licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non-Commercial - No-Derivatives 4.0 International License. View a copy of this license at:
www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/
Wolf Press, 22 Hartley Crescent, LS6 2LL
A CIP record for this title is available from the British Library
All characters in this publication, except for those named public figures who are used in fictional situations, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely unintended and coincidental.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on any subsequent purchaser.
Table of Contents
Thoughts Are Free
Map of Central Berlin
Day 1: Monday 14th March 1994
Day 2: Tuesday 15th March 1994
Day 3: Wednesday 16th March 1994
Day 4: Thursday 17th March 1994
Day 5: Friday 18th March 1994
Day 6: Saturday 19th March 1994
Day 7: Sunday 20th March 1994
Day 8: Monday 21st March 1994
Day 9: Tuesday 22nd March 1994
Day 10: Wednesday 23rd March 1994
Day 11: Thursday 24th March 1994
Day 12: Friday 25th March 1994
Day 13: Saturday 26th March 1994
Day 14: Sunday 27th March 1994
Day 15: Monday 28th March 1994
Days 16–18: Tuesday 29th March to Saturday 2nd April 1994
Referendum Day: Sunday 3rd April 1994
Note from the author
Copyright