Unprepared for such a wave of peaceful protests, the SED crumbled because the unrest contradicted its ideological claim of serving the people. Intent on celebrating the fortieth anniversary of the GDR’s founding, the leadership was divided between hardliners who wanted to suppress the “counterrevolution” and reformers who were willing to initiate a public dialogue. Officers of the security apparatus, such as Werner Feigel, were distressed that the party “had made no preparations” for such a challenge. In mid-October 1989 more flexible Politburo members overthrew the ailing Honecker and put in power his deputy Egon Krenz, who had been tarnished by supporting the Tiananmen Square massacre in China. Horst Johannsen observed that “comrades and entire party collectives began to lose their trust in hierarchy and to follow its alienating cynicism ever less.” When opposition groups like the New Forum collected thousands of signatures, the “peaceful popular demands gained an unstoppable ascendancy.”71 SED concessions were too little and too late.
The “true turning point” was the fall of the Wall, which had divided Berlin for almost three decades. In “a grandiose illusion,” half a million citizens had demonstrated on November 4 at the Alexanderplatz for the reform of an independent GDR. But five days later the SED gave in to public pressure and promised a new travel policy, allowing freedom of movement without prior restriction. When Günter Schabowski announced this change to the press, he triggered an unintended tidal wave: “During the same night thousands of East Berliners massed at the Wall and pressured the few crossing points. The border guards faced a human avalanche which overpowered all control mechanisms.” Once the floodgates were opened, Horst Johannsen recalled, “during this night the entire area of West Berlin resembled a real festival: people hugged each other, bakers presented their wares on the street, drinks and fruit were offered, everywhere there were heartwarming encounters.” Unable to believe what they were seeing, jubilant crowds kept repeating, “This is incredible.”72
28. East German protests. Source: Stiftung Preussischer Kulturbesitz.
The contest therefore shifted to a struggle between those who wanted to reform an independent GDR and those who pleaded for a reunification with the FRG. Hoping for a “third way,” many intellectuals appealed “for our country” by promising to “develop a society with solidarity, peace and social justice, individual freedom, free travel, and protection of the environment” that would be “an alternative to the Federal Republic.” But, tired of further socialist experiments, the majority of the populace began to demand a merger with the more prosperous and free West Germany, following Chancellor Helmut Kohl’s suggestion of a federation in his surprising Ten-Point Plan of November 28, 1989. When the slogan shifted to “we are one people,” Horst Johannsen observed that “in early December demands for reunification began to dominate the Monday demonstrations more and more.”73 Even the repudiation of Stalinism and the renaming of the SED as the Party of Democratic Socialism (PDS) could no longer stop the trend toward ending the division of Germany.
The first free election on March 18, 1990, decided the issue: a clear majority of East Germans endorsed reunification. Following the Polish example, a roundtable of SED functionaries and opposition members managed the transition. The party now had power but no legitimacy, while the civic movement had legitimacy but no power. The key compromise was the agreement to hold free elections in order to decide the future. The campaign turned into a three-cornered contest in which defenders of the regime confronted activists of the civic opposition movement and members of the pro-Western parties. With well-orchestrated appearances, West German chancellor Kohl supported the centrist CDU and ex-chancellor Brandt campaigned for the leftist SPD, while the FDP and the Greens played only minor roles. “In the end the majority of the voters chose the governing party of the FRG” and rejected the Third Way. As a result of the verdict for unification, Gerhard Joachim recalled that “all my dreams [of reforming socialism] blew away like spring blossoms.”74
The currency and social union of July 1, 1990 took a crucial step toward the merger of both economies. Most East Germans had been looking forward to gaining the DM, which they regarded as a kind of “magic currency” since it offered access to coveted goods. While several thousand marks of savings were exchanged 1:1, most of the East German money was converted at a rate of 1:2, which was still higher than GDR productivity. On the day of the exchange, “people were happy and exuberant,” standing in long lines to receive their Western bills. Almost overnight “real Western goods” filled the store shelves, displacing the drab but utilitarian Eastern products. At the same time “prices in fact tripled” for most transactions. “Ignorance and insecurity in dealing with the DM were shamelessly abused,” initiating a kind of criminal capitalism that plundered the naïve. While the DM made consumption dreams come true, its excessive conversion rate made goods too expensive and threatened Eastern jobs. Easterners expected prosperity to follow automatically, whereas Westerners underestimated the transformation cost.75
The memoirs suggest that the legal process of reunification took place over the heads of the people in complex negotiations that nonetheless had major consequences for ordinary lives. Instead of a merger of equal partners, it was the accession of a failing state to a flourishing neighbor, according to paragraph twenty-three of the Basic Law of the FRG. The GDR revived its five original states in order to fit into the federal structure of West Germany. A lengthy and complex unification treaty regulated the legal process for such controversial issues as property rights, allowing exceptions for a transition period for abortion rights, but in principle transferring Western patterns to the East. At the same time a complicated negotiation between the two Germanys and the four victors of World War II determined the international dimensions of the new state. Over the protests of the expellee organizations, the enlarged Federal Republic had to accept the loss of its Eastern territories as permanent. A muted and civil celebration marked the restoration of unity on October 3, 1990.76
Retrospective feelings about reunification were rather mixed, with some former East Germans lamenting the failure of socialism and others welcoming the return to freedom. Of course, members of the SED regime such as Werner Feigel complained about the loss of their free medical care, higher pensions, and other privileges: “This balance sheet demonstrates that the so-called unification could not make me happy.” Also, supporters of the Third Way, such as Gerhard Joachim, regretted that “our peaceful revolution for a better GDR remained a footnote of world history” and failed to reform all of Germany. But many other GDR citizens, such as Klaus Hübschmann, were relieved: “Of course, we were jubilant when with the Wall, the entire Stasi, and SED corruption were removed,” even if “we came from the rain into the shower” by having to face unexpected transition challenges. Regime opponents such as Werner Braune, who had suffered under persecution, were particularly delighted with the recovery of the rule of law: “We were all moved and grateful for the unification which had taken place.”77
FAILURE NARRATIVES
East German autobiographies have a peculiarly defensive character, since their authors attempt to justify individual lives in spite of having to admit the system’s failure. Structured around important political caesuras, all accounts agree on the fiasco of “real existing socialism,” because the self-dissolution of the GDR cannot be denied. Though feeling overwhelmed by the experiment in social engineering, most of these authors cling to pride in their personal achievements in adverse circumstances. In contrast to the Western emphasis on success, East German stories stress coping with difficulties, ingenious improvisation, professional accomplishments, and private satisfaction. While party apologists such as Werner Feigel reaffirm the attractiveness of socialist ideals, apolitical specialists such as Klaus Hübschmann tend to downplay the price of conformity for their attainments. Relatively few writers, Günter Krause among them, condemn the SED dictatorship outright. Interestingly enough, even intellectuals such as Gerhard Joachim who were repeatedly discipli
ned by the party still assert that “socialism is the most exciting blueprint for society.”78
Many memoirists find it painful to concede that the GDR lost the Cold War competition with the FRG, because their lives there were more closely intertwined with the system than in the West. In order to show that “the GDR was after all more than an insignificant footnote of world history,” they cite, like Heinrich Buschmann, a list of its advantages: “Not everything was bad in the GDR, some things were models even for Germany as a whole…. Support for families with many children was exemplary in the GDR” due to free nurseries, financial assistance, and the like. “For all talented children education up to the doctorate was free of charge.” Moreover, “health care of the citizens did not cost anything.” The fees “for the elderly in old age homes were modest.” Unwilling to consider their life a failure, many East Germans therefore remember the GDR “not only as an authoritarian dictatorship,” but are in general in “agreement with the social and societal measures” of the SED. Only for victims are “the opening of the Wall and German reunification a wonderful, unexpected gift.”79
When trying to explain the GDR’s collapse, the memoirists suggest numerous contradictory reasons. Incorrigible Communists such as Werner Feigel blame a capitalist conspiracy that deceived the naïve East Germans with false promises. More critical spirits such as Günter Manz hold “the Stalinist system of the Soviet Union” responsible and assert that the GDR “was not at all a socialist state.” By contrast, economists such as Horst Johannsen point to the difficult starting conditions of the East German regime in which the Soviet occupiers dismantled many factories and exacted heavy reparations. Accomplished professionals such as Klaus Hübschmann complain about the constant interference of “unspeakable party bureaucrats” who overrode rational arguments with political considerations. And wags claim that “the chief enemies of socialism were spring, summer, fall and winter.”80 Ultimately even defenders of its humanistic ideals admit that “real existing socialism” collapsed due to its inability to reform its practice.
Recollections of the defunct GDR are also colored by their authors’ difficulties with the transition to what they considered as neoliberal capitalism. Gerhard Joachim’s high hopes during the peaceful revolution of bringing about a new synthesis between democracy and socialism were bound to be disappointed. Heinrich Buschmann observed that many rural people had trouble adjusting from SED collectivism to the unbridled individualism of the West. Already retired, Fritz Klein tried to help colleagues in the Academy of Sciences who faced losing their jobs due to the breakup of this large research institution into smaller segments in order to fit it into the decentralized academic structure of the FRG. But what incensed socialist partisans such as Werner Feigel most was the accusation of having served a lawless state, an Unrechtsstaat, which justified a drastic cut in their pensions.81 Missing the familiarity of the GDR, many East Germans resented the Western media attacks on the SED dictatorship as callously disrespectful of their own lives.
But in spite of a widespread (n)ostalgia for the SED regime, hardly any of the memoirists want the GDR back. While they might regret the loss of community in the East or grumble about the “casino capitalism” of unified Germany, they admit that their living standard had noticeably improved. As reluctant citizens of the Federal Republic, they can publicly criticize its institutions, organize lobby groups, and travel freely anywhere in the world. While the socialist philosopher Alfred Kosing still longs for “a socialist society with democratic structures” and an “open intellectual life,” he clearly states, “But I do not wish the SED back.” Similarly, the long-time collective farm director Heinrich Buschmann admits, “Neither from my brain nor from my heart do I want to return to GDR conditions.” Looking back on the succession of regimes, journalist Carola Stern and Socialist Heinz Zöger conclude, “After [our] experiences in the Weimar Republic, the Nazi state, and the GDR [we] consider the Federal Republic of Germany the best German state yet.”82
CONCLUSION
Memories of Fractured Lives
The autobiographies of the cohort born in the 1920s present an intriguing record of ordinary lives in extraordinary times. With advancing age, their untutored authors looked back upon their trials and tribulations, trying to make sense of their ruptured biographies. The former BdM member Ruth Bulwin confessed that “for a long time I have been driven to record memories of our life for my children and nephews, and last but not least for myself.” When reflecting on the progression “from [NS] dictatorship to [SED] dictatorship,” the East German engineer Horst Johannsen tried “to reproduce life experiences from the perspective of a simple citizen.” In contrast to GDR apologias, he wanted to present “in really objective form a better testimony that attempts to recall the past for descendants of my family and to present answers to questions about the course of contemporary history.” This didactic purpose of drawing political lessons from personal experience of “a very turbulent time” is typical of many Weimar children’s memoirs.1
For readers, such ego narratives are both problematic and promising. Joachim Fest admitted that they have many pitfalls as a source of “what actually happened.” Autobiographies are rather selective, eliding embarrassing details; they tend to be laudatory, justify the writer’s actions, and present a linear progression that ignores the actual twists and turns of development. Nonetheless, personal accounts also have redeeming merits because they record “how one became who one is.” An individual perspective on a particular life course offers more concrete detail than structural generalizations. Moreover, it presents stories of incidents that would be lost with the death of its author. Finally, its diachronic character allows writers to reflect on the discrepancy between their former and present selves. Hence the historian Fritz Klein attempted “a serious self-examination, a resolute questioning of what good or bad, right or wrong one has done, said or written.” Such rigorous self-analysis provides insights otherwise not available.2
In contrast to recollections from other countries, German autobiographies have to confront a “double burden” of problematic pasts. On the one hand, these life courses tend to have been more dramatically disrupted by war, Nazi repression, the Holocaust, and Communist dictatorship than the peaceful developments among neutral neighbors. On the other hand, the individuals involved in these experiences make up the entire spectrum, from perpetrators through bystanders to victims, within one nation. As a single intellectual couple, Carola Stern and Heinz Zöger “had to come to terms with their past in different ways and not for the same reasons.” While she had to deal with her youthful enthusiasm for the Third Reich, he was forced to cope with his prominent role in the GDR. In a similar vein, mechanical engineer Günter Krause concluded, “I have experienced National Socialism and also the GDR. Both dictatorships have only brought disaster for the people.”3 Many of these memoirs are passionate appeals to prevent the recurrence of such events.
Seen from the perspective of ordinary people, German history in the twentieth century reveals a dramatic reversal from catastrophe to civility. Not just the fatal decisions of chauvinistic elites, but also the enthusiastic acclaim of the masses precipitated the country and with it the continent into two wars, depressions, dictatorships, and the Holocaust. These self-inflicted disasters toppled regimes, moved borders, killed millions—in short, caused untold suffering that engulfed the very people who had unleashed them. Family photo albums are full of pictures of proud soldiers celebrating Wehrmacht victories, but also contain images of destroyed cities and the defeated struggling for survival in the rubble. Only after giving up hegemonic dreams in the Cold War stalemate did the divided Germans in East and West prosper and reflect on some of their prior misdeeds. It was not just political leadership and intellectual criticism, but a much broader process of social introspection that finally produced the chastened Germans of today.4
RETIREMENT RETROSPECTIVES
For members of the Weimar cohort in the West, retirement from their o
ccupations provided the leisure and motivation to “review their past” for a final time. While for some dissatisfied individuals giving up work came as a welcome relief, for others, such as Robert Neumaier, “who loved [their] profession, saying goodbye was associated with a certain wistfulness.” His daughter pressed him to “record his war experiences for posterity as eyewitness of a slowly dying generation” in order to “fill the gap” left by the end of his working life. When reading the resulting text, she was impressed with “his colorful life, marked by highs and lows.” Unlike her own peacetime generation, “he experienced extreme situations, was subjected to great physical and psychological stress and nonetheless never lost his courage to live.” Having withdrawn to the “second row of the theater,” Gerhard Baucke was also happy to learn a spectator role: “I have a good partner on my side. It does not get boring. Fall, too, has beautiful days.”5
The last pages of their accounts show that many retirees made a smooth transition into old age, which enabled them to reflect dispassionately on their lives. Intellectuals such as Joachim Fest continued to pursue their cultural interests, but in a less formal setting. Businessmen such as Hellmut Raschdorff went on acting as consultants and gathering honors from professional associations. Social activists such as Gisela and Horst Grothus stayed involved in their communities, supporting civil society initiatives to address local or global problems. Other professionals turned to hobbies; Hermann Debus, for example, participated in swimming competitions and theatrical productions. Especially if they came from modest backgrounds, pensioners were proud of their well-appointed houses with big gardens that kept them busy. Those retirees who had been tied down for political or financial reasons, such as Erika Taubhorn and Günter Krause, finally traveled to far-flung places like “Cyprus, Crete, Morocco, Madeira.”6 Photos show that other couples, such as the Andrées, were content to stay closer to home, enjoying each other’s company (image 29).
Broken Lives Page 41