Best Man

by Doug Raber

  “Some of your friends might be interested in the performance also, Josef. I understand there will be another concert by the orchestra in two weeks’ time.”

  That was the day on which the public announcement was to be made.

  “Moreover, I have heard that they will play pieces by both Czech and Russian composers.”

  That told him exactly whom he should contact. I could only hope at the time that my warning would reach the other parties quickly enough that they could prepare an appropriate response to these unexpected American proposals. I wanted them to have time to prepare a calm and reasonable diplomatic response rather than react with anger and saber-rattling.

  It was good fortune for me and Josef as well. We averted what had been an impending disaster, and the negotiations continued apace. Within a few months, the Americans and Soviets had signed a bilateral agreement that greatly reduced the threat of chemical weapons being used by these two nations. And our Paris negotiations continued inexorably toward international agreement on the Chemical Weapons Convention several years later.

  • • • • •

  Other events in the world took no pause for us to focus on our work in Paris during that year. The Cold War was approaching its denouement, and by the end of 1989, the end was near. In late November, the Velvet Revolution took place in Czechoslovakia, and the communist regime came to an end.

  Earlier that same month, the Berlin Wall fell. In contrast to its more common usage with respect to governments, the word in this case was appropriate in all aspects. Viewers around the world watched on live television as German citizens climbed atop the wall, using hammers and crowbars to attack the structure, shattering the mortar and hurling chunks of brick and concrete to the ground below. It was the beginning of the end.

  Protests spread throughout East Berlin and across all of East Germany. They were almost entirely peaceful, but their message was consistent and unmistakable.

  “We are one people,” they chanted.

  It recalled the statue of the Berlin Bear in Erlangen that I saw in my student days. Germany is indivisible. I had thought it to be a delusion, but it was quickly moving toward reality. Only three weeks after the Wall came down, the West German Chancellor gave a speech outlining his ten-point plan for reuniting Germany,* a plan that was enthusiastically received in his own country. In much of the rest of the world, however, the reaction was a mix of outrage and exasperation.

  Why the outrage? And why did the Chancellor not anticipate it? The reasons are both obvious and complex. On the one hand, there was the easily anticipated concern of countries such as England, France, and Israel, all of which viewed a reunited Germany as an existential threat. On the other hand, the world should have seen this coming. The statue of the Berlin Bear with its admonition had never been hidden from view, and despite the political differences between East and West Germany, their citizens had never ceased regarding themselves a single people.

  What everyone missed was the intricacy of the problem and the complexity of any conceivable resolution. Officially, the Second World War had never really ended. There had never been a peace treaty, only a surrender, and the international decisions since that time had been made by the victorious allied powers — France, the United Kingdom, the United States, and the USSR. Each of the Four Powers had its own agenda, however. The British and French did not want reunification, while the U.S. was somewhat ambivalent. The Soviets recognized that it was inevitable, so their focus was on making the best of the situation. They wanted a neutral Germany, while the U.S. and other Western nations wanted Germany as an ally and preferably as a member of NATO.

  Those were the underlying principles, and they would be the sticking points for subsequent negotiations, yet even the idea of holding negotiations was problematic. You can imagine the agitation in the world of diplomacy at the time, and you will certainly recognize that I was immediately called to participate. Technical advisors were always needed.

  I spent much of the following year traveling from one set of discussions to another. Talks were held in Bonn and East Germany, in Strasbourg, Washington, Moscow, and Ottawa, and in other locations of which most others remain unaware.

  My very first assignment was in East Berlin, where representatives of the two parts of Germany were holding unofficial discussions. This was only days after the border restrictions were lifted, and weeks before the ten-point plan was proposed. I had no official status, and my task was to ascertain the political landscape on a local level. The situation was fluid, but there had been no public suggestion of moving toward reunification.

  When I arrived in Berlin, my first decision was to seek out Dieter Volkmann. This had to be done with great discretion, so I placed a telephone call to his office in the East German ministry of foreign affairs. I identified myself to his receptionist as Herr Freund, German for “Mr. Friend,” hoping he would recognize my simple code. Moreover, I spoke with the accent of someone from that region, a capability I had developed over the years as my fluency in the language had continually improved.

  He spoke cautiously when he took the call.

  “Volkmann, here. May I help you.”

  “Dieter,” I replied. “So good to speak with you again. It has been since we had coffee after I finished working with Herr Meyerhof.”

  There was a short pause.

  “Yes, I recall that time. What may I do for you?”

  “We spoke then of working on a project together. I think the time has come for us to begin.”

  He remained circumspect.

  “Yes, I remember that also. You wish to meet? Here at my office?”

  “I think it would be better somewhere else. Perhaps the same café as the last time?”

  “Yes, that would be good. At one thirty this afternoon.”

  We ended the call, and I began my preparations. I was in the part of the city that had long been the American zone, and despite the changes in travel restrictions, crossing into the East would leave many footprints, and I did not wish to be traced. Consequently, I used a combination of U-Bahn and taxi, and I walked aimlessly for some time before finally arriving at the café. I was confident that nobody was following me, but I remained quite nervous about meeting Dieter. On the one hand, he had long been a Communist functionary, and on the other hand, he played that role as an East German. I was risking my assignment, and perhaps even my freedom, on the premise that his national loyalty was stronger than his political allegiance.

  We met at the café and had a pleasant conversation for almost a half hour. He was wary at first, clearly sharing my own concerns about the loyalties and intentions of the other person at the table. After a few minutes, however, we became comfortable with the situation, realizing that we had an opportunity to shape history, a moment that we could not allow to pass unheeded.

  “We must meet again tomorrow, Timothy. With a third person. You remember meeting a man in Moscow? A man whose name is Yevchenko?”

  I was astounded. How did Dieter know about my contact with Vasili? I felt for a moment as though the room were spinning about me, but I recovered after taking a deep breath.

  “Yes. Vasili Yevchenko.”

  I was surprised, and I was rattled. It seemed inconceivable to me that Dieter would have known of my interaction with Vasili. Had someone informed on me?

  “This worries me, Dieter. I know your political background is the same as his, but he is not German. He is Russian. A dedicated Soviet functionary.”

  “It is true. But things have changed. In the course of the last two weeks, the change has been enormous. I have seen it, and certainly, you have seen it. Yevchenko has seen it also.”

  “I still don’t understand how … or why … you and Vasili would have discussed my relationship with him. Or why you would bring him into our enterprise. I asked to meet with you privately. You are German. I did not ask to be involved with the Soviets on this matter.”

  “I understand your concern,” he said. “However, you must
accept the magnitude of these recent changes. The three of us are not on the same side, but we must share information. Allow me to explain, please.”

  I nodded, but he could not have missed my displeasure.

  “This is big, Timothy. Very big. East and West Germany will come together again. One nation. It will be announced very soon.”

  “By whom?” I asked, not fully accepting this claim.

  “By West Germany. By the Chancellor. Nobody knows this yet.”

  “Then how do you know? This all seems like only a guess, Dieter.”

  “It is much more than that. There have been meetings … discussions. Here is what you must understand. The people of Germany want this. The rest of Europe does not. But none of that is important. Only two countries are important.”

  “The U.S. and the USSR,” I said.

  “Exactly so. And they are both afraid of what reunification will bring. Yet they both know it will happen. It is something that cannot be stopped.”

  “And what is it you think they fear?”

  “The Soviets know they will lose East Germany. And they are beginning to count the days of the Warsaw Pact and entire Soviet Union. It is all falling down, just like the Wall. But if they lose East Germany, they want the new nation to be neutral.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I can see that. But the U.S. position would be different. We would want Germany to remain an ally. We would want the reunited Germany to be part of NATO.”

  “Now you are understanding the problem,” Volkmann said. “And why we need to talk. Not just you and I, however. You and I, and also Yevchenko.”

  “Your loyalties?” I asked. “They are with the new Germany and not with the Soviets?”

  “The Germans are one people, Timothy. I think you understood my feeling about that the first time we met, when you were a visiting student many years ago.”

  “Yes, I suppose I did. If I accept the truth of that, it would mean you and I would be on the same side. And the question would be whether or not we could trust Yevchenko.”

  “It is not quite that simple,” he said. “You and I may both understand that a new Germany will not be socialist and will be allied with the West. But that does not mean our positions will be the same during negotiations.”

  “No, certainly not,” I responded. “What are you suggesting we talk about now with Yevchenko?”

  “You must understand, Timothy. The Soviets know what is coming. They wish to minimize the negative parts. And they can do this by acting first. Nobody is ready for East and West Germany to begin the process, so the hope is to throw them off balance. You are aware that Vasili is KGB? And that I have been Stasi for many years?”

  “I assumed that to be the situation. As I assumed you knew my affiliation.”

  “Yes. That is correct. So now we must initiate a plan. Can you meet tomorrow? I propose ten fifteen in the morning. Where you previously held all your working sessions for the Division of Commercial Coordination.”

  “Now you propose to bring in Meyerhof?”

  “No, certainly not. Do not be so mistrustful, Timothy. Meyerhof has been moved to another location. Precisely so that we could hold our talks without any suspicion. Moreover, you can go there without anyone detecting your arrival. I have seen you do it.”

  “You knew? Even back then?”

  He smiled.

  “Of course. I am very good at what I do.”

  At our meeting the following day, I quickly ascertained that I was no longer a bystander passing messages and offering suggestions in a role as technical advisor. The three of us were, in fact, devising the future of Germany, and perhaps of the entire world. Everything derived from Vasili’s proposal to manipulate international policies through the second level of diplomacy, and by that he meant people such as ourselves. We would influence the heads of government in the relevant countries, but they would be unaware of the leverage we exerted.

  “The key to our success,” Vasili explained, “is that these leaders should think they are speaking ideas from their own minds. Not from ours.”

  In the course of our meeting that morning, and two more on the following days, we agreed on a dozen statements that could form the framework of a subsequent public announcement. Dieter and I remained unconvinced that the words would ever be spoken aloud, but Vasili was confident.

  “Our man has ear of top Gorbachev assistant, and he has direct connection to West German foreign minister. Our list will go to West German Chancellor.”

  “I still don’t understand why the Chancellor would use our list,” I said.

  “He will believe it comes from Gorbachev,” Yevchenko responded. “And he will need support from Gorbachev.”

  “Are you saying that Gorbachev will approve our list before sending it to the Chancellor?”

  Vasili smiled at me, as though I were a schoolboy who could not grasp the lesson.

  “No, Timothy. Gorbachev will not approve our list. He will not see our list.”

  I began, finally, to recognize the sheer audacity of our plan. Yevchenko continued his explanation.

  “Our people will pass this information to the Chancellor’s foreign ministry, and they will tell him it came from Gorbachev. Not approved by him, but directed by him. The Chancellor will consider it the price of cooperation from the Soviets in the process of reunification.”

  “What of our governments? What do we tell them?” I asked, indicating both myself and Dieter.

  “Nothing. Nothing in advance. The Chancellor will give his speech in one month. You will inform your governments at the same time, when it is too late for anyone to prevent the speech.”

  “But certainly, there will be objections, and they could stop the reunification process from moving forward.”

  “There will certainly be objections, but they will not be public. It would be too embarrassing. When you give our list to the U.S. government, you will say that you were told it had already been approved by Moscow and East Berlin. And, Dieter, when he gives the list to his government, it will be with the information that Moscow and Washington have both agreed. Everyone will believe that the other three governments approved of the speech before it was given.”

  “Our governments will remain quiet?” I asked.

  “It will be even better than quiet. They cannot complain, because they will believe the others are unified, and it would be a diplomatic disaster to object. Moreover, we have crafted our list very well. It gives each of the four countries what they need to move forward. We offer economic aid for the East German people, which Moscow can no longer afford to provide, and we make several suggestions for increased cooperation among the affected nations. Everyone wants that. Most important for Soviets is the call for arms reductions. Moscow can no longer afford to make so many weapons, and this would improve their security.”

  “What about the United States?”

  “They would get many of the same things. Improved cooperation with the rest of Europe. A reduction of nuclear and chemical threats. But most important is the suggestion that the new Germany would be an ally of the West. They will not object.”

  My doubts were not completely dispelled until the day of the Chancellor’s speech. The Chancellor did not give the U.S. advance warning of what he would say, and my list of a dozen arguments reached President George H.W. Bush about an hour before the official German document arrived.

  Of the twelve suggestions Vasili and Dieter and I had put in our list, ten were in what became the Chancellor’s famous “Ten-Point Program.” Although I only provided an hour’s advance notice, it was sufficient for the U.S. President to begin formulating a response, and I was deemed a hero, although nothing was ever said publicly.

  A year later, there was only one Germany.

  • • • • •

  The process by which reunification took place did not always go smoothly. From the beginning, there was anger that the Chancellor had announced his ten points without adequate consultation. But each of the major powers
believed they were the only ones left out, and there was little they could do. It became a matter of details.

  At a NATO conference, the other European countries argued that they should be included in the negotiation process. The U.S. and the Soviets would have preferred to make all the decisions by themselves, but that was not possible legally. For more than forty years, Germany had been governed by tahe Four Powers, the occupying forces of the United States, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom, and France. The German surrender at the end of World War II placed all legal authority with the Four Powers, so they would provide the official mechanism for reunification.

  Oddly, there was no official place for the for either East or West Germany, which was an immediate point of contention. Initially they insisted on participation as equal parties, but it was not legally tenable. Ultimately, the process was carried out by what became known as the “two-plus-four negotiations,” where the difference in status was clear, if only implicit.

  The negotiations seemed for some time to be going nowhere. Each of the six participating countries pushed for different end results, with the British and French sharing the aim of preventing, or at least delaying for as many years as possible, the creation of a unified Germany that they viewed as a political and economic threat. The final outcome was once again the result of what I must confess was my own intervention.

  During those months, I continued to meet periodically with Vasili and Dieter in what remained East Berlin. I remember one particular morning, as I made my circuitous approach to our meeting site, ensuring that I was not being followed by anyone, friend or foe. It was a pleasant day, and everywhere I looked, I saw individuals who might be involved in surveillance. Yet I knew it was all in my head, and it was only because of my discovery the night before.

  I had been reading in preparation for the meeting, and my subject material, much as it had been in my student days, was a topic that others would consider too dry for their consideration. I was reading the “Basic Law for the Federal Republic of Germany,” the document that was effectively the country’s constitution. What I found was something that everyone had studiously overlooked, Article 23. It stated quite explicitly that any former part of Germany could, by vote of its legislature, accede to West Germany.