Following the tour I must have picked the only restaurant in the town that did not have a bilingual menu. I tried ordering in German and for the first time came across a rather angry French waitress who was most likely not from the region; she started gesticulating and speaking in French very quickly. I thought she must be from Paris. I tried English, which only made her even more animated. I looked up at the faded writing on one of the murals on the building above mecccxxvii and made out the word Gerechtigkeit (German for justice). I was about to go off on a diatribe, but in the end decided the irony would be lost on her, so I just pointed at ‘Choucroute and Cochon’ — sauerkraut and pork, and said in English, ‘I’ll have this traditionally French dish!’
Then I went to visit one of the most important cultural sites in Alsace, the Unterlinden (underneath the linden trees) Museum, housed in the thirteenth-century Dominican monastery, which contains some of the greatest works of art from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, including the haunting ‘Isenheim Altar’ by Matthias Grünewald. Well worth a visit if you ever go to Colmar.(1)
The German-speaking Elsassers were certainly a reclusive bunch.cccxxviii At the tourist information office in Strasbourg, I asked where Elsassisch was still spoken most. They told me it was spoken more in the south, but when I visited this area, I heard only French on the streets of the towns and villages. In Colmar I asked the same question and they told me it was spoken in the north close to the border, but again, when I got there I heard only French. Only in little Wießenburg (Wissembourg), right on the border, did I hear a number of older couples speaking their Elsassisch, and some bookshops and newsagents displaying local bilingual newspapers and books.
On 8th May, I left my hotel in Strasbourg early to head for an antique bookshop I had seen the night before, which was selling pre-1918 satirical postcards in German, a number of which were poking fun at the Prussians. However, after walking a couple of blocks, I realised everything was shut and the streets were unusually quiet. I went back to the hotel to ask if it was a national holiday. ‘Why yes, of course,’ I was told. ‘It is the end of the war!’ I thought, and nearly pointed out that this was seventy years ago. The television that evening was full of black and white footage of the war and the suffering of France during the Nazi occupation, a poignant reminder of why the linguistic landscape of this region is what it is today. The next day I was rifling through the travel section in a bookshop near my hotel when I came across a little guide curiously entitled Xenophobe’s Guide to the Germans. Inside the book I found this description of Franco-German relations:
The Germans envy Mediterranean people for their relaxed attitudes, cultural heritage and warm climate but only when they are on holiday… The French are admired for their sophisticated civilisation but pitied for their inferior culture. The French may have higher spirits but the Germans have deeper souls!… Inside every German is a wild-haired Beethoven striding through forests and weeping over a mountain sunset, grappling with impossible odds to express the inexpressible… After all, if the Germans did not actually invent the Romantic Movement, they at least kitted it out with a lot of appropriately fraught and complicated philosophy.(2)
Eupen Malmedy (Belgium)
This region, annexed by Belgium from Germany after the First World War, would have been sold back to Germany in the late 1920s had France not intervened to prevent such a move, setting a precedent. Disputes between Walloons and the Flemish have kept them at each other’s throats and left the Germans largely alone, to a point where they have considerable autonomy. The Minister President of the German-speaking region at the time of writing this book was pushing for full regional autonomy.
South Tirol (Italy)
The loss of this region still rankles with Austria today. Hitler disappointed many of his fellow Austrians when he agreed with Mussolini that the German-speaking population should be encouraged to emigrate, to act as colonists for his newly conquered territory in the east, thereby reducing a bone of contention between the two Axis Allies. Mussolini encouraged the Italians to immigrate to the South Tirol and the region saw the Italian-speaking percentage of the population rise from just 3 per cent in 1910, to over 30 per cent by the early 1940s. The German-speaking population that opted to stay faced the threat of complete Italianisation. With the return of a democratic government in Rome in 1946, the German-speaking community was granted special rights. However, it was a backhanded deal, as the special provisions were attributed to the whole region, in other words both the South Tyrol and the Trentino. The Trentino was overwhelmingly Italian, so in practice, any prospect for self-government or autonomy for the German-speaking community was impossible; it was a political fudge, which pleased no one. During the 1950s and 1960s, radical groups who wanted complete autonomy, or preferably even reunification with Austria, carried out terrorist attacks which resulted in the deaths of twenty-one people, eventually prompting the Italian government to promulgate a new statutory order of special rights only for the South Tirolean region. The region now enjoys a considerable amount of autonomy.
In 1998, the three formerly united regions of the Tirol (in Austria), South Tirol and the Trentino (both part of Italy) were joined together again in a special Euro-region with the aim of promoting and protecting its cultural identity. The regional parliaments of the three regions come together for special sessions to discuss cross-regional tourism, infrastructure, cultural and environmental projects, in a shining example of what is possible for everyone’s mutual benefit. The 2001 census showed the German-speaking community still made up over two-thirds of the population, at 68 per cent, of the South Tirol, with their constituting the majority in 103 of 116 municipal districts. So the population numbers appear to have stabilised, with the German-speaking minority no longer feeling threatened, and the younger generation by and large now regarding themselves as German-speaking Italians. There are signs however that the recent Euro crisis has begun to raise tensions again. The South Tirol is the most prosperous region in Italy with the lowest unemployment rate. Separatists are again getting more airtime on the issue of the region’s growing financial transfers to cash-strapped Rome.
Schleswig (Denmark/Germany)
One of the fairest plebiscites of the post First World War era took place in Schleswig. In 1920, two referenda resulted in a partition of the region along linguistic lines. Northern Schleswig joined Denmark and Central Schleswig voted to remain German. The southern part did not have a referendum, as the outcome would clearly have been to remain part of Germany. Today, the parts of Schleswig in Denmark and Germany cooperate as a Euro-region.
Memelland (Klaipéda region of Lithuania)
This was the only former part of East Prussia in which a German minority worth speaking of remained. The Lithuanians were viewed by the Soviets as defeated allies of the Third Reich. There was significant opposition to Soviet occupation after the war and many thousands of Lithuanians were deported to the Gulags. Elements of the German community had gone to ground in the Memelland or had fled to neighbouring Lithuania, as it was then, during the advance of the Red Army, but a significant number returned to the Memelland when the war ended. After the war, the area was again incorporated into the territory of Lithuania. By 1950, of the 48,500 people in the region only 40 per cent were Lithuanian. By 1953, it was estimated that 20,000 of the original German inhabitants still remained. The Lithuanian authorities turned a blind eye to this community; they needed fishermen and farmers to help rebuild the economy of the region, and the Russians had more significant problems fighting with Lithuanians opposed to their occupation.
In 1958, the Soviet authorities signed ‘repatriation’ agreements with both German states and thereby got rid of 6,000 of the more troublesome elements within the German community, whilst preventing the departure of the more important economic elements. The region was closed off to foreign visitors, in the same way as the Russian part of East Prussia was, until 1987. Many of the German minority lost hope of ever seeing relatives again a
nd had no access to the German language, as there were no German newspapers, radio or TV stations to receive. Subsequently, many stopped speaking German and parents often did not tell their children of their German heritage to spare them any difficulties in school. Even now, it is typical to hear many say, ‘We were German, but are Lithuanian now.’ Nevertheless, in 1989, a German-Lithuanian cultural association was founded in Memel (Klaipéda), which helped rebuild the old Protestant church in the town. Remarkably they still use the Old Prussian German liturgy, which has died out in the rest of Germany.
In 1993, the community formed the Union of Memelländer, an association with 1,200 members, which set up a German-Lithuanian bilingual school in Klaipéda to teach its children more about the regional history, culture, literature and folklore of the region and keep a sense of the special regional identity of the area alive.(1)
Hungary
Hungary is the only former Eastern Bloc state that has formally allowed those Germans who were expelled to return, and has repeatedly expressed remorse at the actions of the Communist authorities in expelling its German communities. Hungary obviously has a long association with Austria, being one of the Central Powers during the First World War, and an Axis ally during the Second; and it has had its own significant problems, with the expulsion of its minorities from Slovakia, and the persecution of those that remain both in Slovakia and Romania. Only very few Germans have chosen to return to Hungary.
Siebenbürger Sachsen (Romania)
The fate of these people has been mentioned in an earlier chapter. Suffice to say, most of the German community that survived the mass deportations to the Soviet Gulags after the war immigrated to Germany after the fall of the Iron Curtain. However, of the tiny residue of 60,000–150,000 strong that remains, they now have considerable autonomy, and although they make up less than 2 per cent of the population of the region, they enjoy a high level of representation in local government, not least in their old capital of Hermannstadt (Sibiu) where the majority Romanian community have elected the German minority to run the city council. The city was subsequently made European capital of culture in 2007, has been wonderfully restored and is well worth a visit. And in November 2014 Klaus Iohannis, the ethnic German mayor of Sibiu, achieved a truly remarkable breakthrough in winning the Presidential race in Romania.
On a European Level
In March 2007, a new European umbrella organisation was formed to represent those who have been victims of ethnic cleansing across the Continent. The European Union of Refugees and Expellees intends to lobby at a European level, and to raise awareness of the historical tragedies that befell their respective members. The association currently includes: the Famagusta Refugee Association; Association of East Prussian and Silesian Expellees; Lobby for Cyprus; Sudeten German Association (Austria); Union of Istrians; Ethnic Germans Association (Austria) and the Armenians in Germany. One can but hope that the cross-border Euro-regions that have already been formed, and those to come, will grow and prosper to the mutual benefit of all their old and new inhabitants. After all, what is the European Union for, if not to overcome and help heal ancient enmities, hatreds and divisions and forge a new sense of cohesion among the community of nations that makes up the EU?
A Centre Against Ethnic Cleansing in Berlin, and the Warsaw Alternative
Estimates suggest that one in four Germans living today is either a victim of ethnic cleansing or a descendent of those that were ethnically cleansed. The Bund der Vertriebenen (BdV, Federation of the Expellees) still boasts an impressive membership of over 2.5 million. The organisation’s former president, Erika Steinbach, is a member of parliament from the leading CDU (Christian Democrats) coalition. Her aim has been the creation of a Centre Against Expulsions in Berlin, with a memorial and exhibition centre dedicated to the forced exodus of all, but especially the ethnic German populations following the Second World War. One might think this a perfectly reasonable request in view of the fact that the overwhelming numbers of victims were innocent civilians: women, children and the elderly. However, anything to do with the Second World War is still a highly charged issue in Germany and much of Eastern Europe.
Whilst the UK can have the Queen Mother erect statues to men like Bomber Harris, the idea of Germans erecting memorials/museums to civilian victims of the war has prompted outrage. The key claim by those who argue against the centre is that it is an attempt to portray Germans as ‘victims of the war’ and thereby downplay German responsibility for both the war and the Holocaust. Furthermore, it is viewed as especially inappropriate that such a memorial be built in Berlin, possibly within a short distance of the recently-erected memorial to the Holocaust, or the museum of Jewish history. In fact many have argued that it should not be built in Berlin at all, and that the last organisation that should be allowed to take a lead in such a venture should be the BdV. Since the initial parliamentary debate about the establishment of the centre in the summer of 2002, it has been supported by a wide political spectrum in Germany, from the Green Party to the Christian Democrats. The only party that now opposes it is the formerly-Communist PDS, now rebranded as the ‘New Left’. Angela Merkel, the first female Chancellor of Germany, and currently still in office at the time of writing, attended the BdV annual reception in Berlin in February 2006 and spoke in favour of the establishment of the centre in Berlin. She also spoke of building bridges with Poland and putting Germany’s relations with her eastern neighbour on the same positive footing as the post-war Franco-German alliance, although this still has a long a way to go. In response, Polish politicians and activists have proposed the creation of a centre of the ‘Martyrology of the Polish Nation’ (also called the Centre for the Memory of Suffering of the Polish Nation) that would document the suffering of the Polish people at the hands of German aggression.
Emotions regarding all things German still run very high in Poland. Radio Maryja in Warsaw has over 4 million listeners and is admired by the Kaczynski twins (the former Polish President and former Prime Minister). The station is rabidly anti-German, anti-Semitic, anti-European and anti-all-foreigners. Herbert Hupka, former German Silesian politican, journalist of German-Jewish ancestry who knew Poland well said that if the Germans had a radio station which expressed rabidly anti-Polish sentiments, the ‘drums would start beating in Poland’ if not elsewhere… (1) Anti-German sentiment from the leading members of the Polish government was again on public display during the German presidency of the EU in 2007, when the Kaczynskis attempted to use the Second World War to extort concessions for Poland in the new voting structure for an enlarged European Union. The Kaczynskis made the absurd proposal that Poland’s population should be considered in terms of what it might have been had it not been for the Second World War (making it abundantly clear that they had absolutely no conception of why the European Union was founded in the first place). The fact that had Poland not chosen to expel its minorities, including 9.5 million Germans from the territories it annexed, its population — and thus its voting power — would have been considerably greater, appeared to be lost on the Kaczynskis. Angela Merkel’s policy of rapprochement with Warsaw was largely derailed by this experience. While the calibre of Poland’s politicians remains the same, better relations between Germany and Poland are going to be exceptionally hard to achieve. Although with the departures of the Kaczynskis there are again signs of improvement.
Nevertheless, Polish authorities have repeatedly expressed concern at the BdV’s involvement in the proposed centre in Berlin, and against Erika Steinbach, who is demonised in the Polish press and was ultimately ‘encouraged’ to resign her role on the board of the new centre by unrelenting pressure from Warsaw. The core of the problem with the BdV’s image is that a tiny minority of its members have attempted to make claims for compensation through the Prussian Claims ‘Treuhand’ organisation. They have even tried to use the European courts, even though the courts have stated that they cannot make retrospective judgments for actions that occurred before the EU came
into existence. Former Chancellor Schröder rejected such claims out of hand and no other significant German politician has supported them; to the contrary, all have wanted to draw a line under any such claims being made, including Angela Merkel. Yet the mere mention that elements of the former inhabitants of Germany’s eastern territories were planning to make claims set off a frenzy of anti-German media headlines. In August 2004, the Polish parliament was able to pass a bill unanimously, without a single abstention or vote against, in favour of calling for the German government to pay reparations for damage inflicted on Poland during the Second World War. Similar responses then erupted in the Czech Republic.cccxxix
The debate is not going to go away. The emotional damage, from losses inflicted by the Wehrmacht and the SS in Poland, which cost millions of Polish lives, along with material damage, not to mention the loss of a third of Germany’s historic territory and the lives of over 2 million of its citizens during the expulsions, runs too deep. No value can be put on these losses; they are simply too immense. The debate will continue to be ugly, and should a senior German politician or media tycoon ever respond in kind to the hysterical comments made in Poland, things could deteriorate even further. If it was possible in South Africa and in Northern Ireland, surely, by now, it is high time the Germans and Poles started seeking a meaningful dialogue that could build better relations for future generations. A ‘truth and reconciliation commission’ is sorely needed between Germany and her eastern neighbours. Had such a commission been established in the euphoric atmosphere of the fall of Communism, and had an honest and frank assessment been made along the lines of ‘we forgive and ask to be forgiven’ as proposed by the Polish bishops, then German-Polish relations could have had a new beginning. Instead we are left with accusations and recriminations and a bitterly poisonous, and largely dishonest, debate about the past.
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