German Political Parties, According to Erik

Here's who's got posters up in Berlin for the Sep 22 elections:

Christian Democrat Union (essentially American Democrats, incumbents): "Let's keep bailing out Europe so they can buy our stuff."

Free Democratic Party (essentially American Libertarians, junior member of ruling coalition with CDU): "Market freedom wasn't the poison."

Socialist Party of Deutschland (largest opposition): "Market freedom was the poison."

Green Party of Deutschland: "Socialists aren't left-wing enough."

The Left: "Greens aren't left-wing enough."

Kommunist Party of Deutschland: "The Left isn't left-wing enough."

Marxist-Leninist Party of Deutschland: "Communists aren't left-wing enough. Also, it worked really well last time!"

Pirate Party (radical social libertarians, against the concept of intellectual property): "Programmers should work for free and have side-jobs like being waiters."

Stazis and Nazis

Well, Germany's had a dark past. This we knew. But like other matters merely of fact, there is very little emotional resonance, and experiencing part of it is much more vivid and the fact evolves into something that happened to real people.
I've now been to most of (I think) the major museums that outline the terror of the past:
-German National History Museum: incredibly thorough history of the country and a place where I learned a ton, even about WWI and WWII. The most memorable part, for me, was a small "architectural" sculpture that showed the Birkenau mass-execution building, with people waiting unbeknownst on one side of a wall and on another, masses of naked people packed together, screaming and writhing in agony as they were killed--most often by vehicle exhaust fumes, which took some 20-30 minutes. Other "able" inmates were forced to run the crematoria.

-The Wall: Y'know.

-Topography of Terror: Layout was more like a book hung up on placards--there was naught but text and pictures. It was built on the site of the old SS building, and everyone more-or-less decided it would be too awful to put anyone there, so they just had a museum about how evil these guys were. There were many quotes from leadership that can be summed up as: "We have an explicit policy to wholesale murder people in as horrible and evil a way as we can imagine. I know it is expensive and we're covered in debt but we have lots of people left to murder." Some SS members would even murder concentration camp victims as the last thing they did before fleeing allied advances because murdering people was the single most important thing on their minds. Just baffling.

This was near the site of Hitler's bunker in Berlin, where he killed himself (after marrying Eva Braun a day earlier) at the end of the war. The Soviets tried to eliminate it entirely with explosives, but being a bomb bunker this was pretty hard. Now it's an unmarked parking lot.

As Eddie Izzard described the scene:
Hitler: "Shall we get married, my darling?"
Braun: "Oh yes, mein furher! What shall our honeymoon be?"
Hitler: "Oh, you know: in a ditch, covered in petrol, on fire."
Bruan: "How romantic!"

-Holocaust Memorial & Museum: The memorial is abstract but quite moving. The museum itself mostly follows individuals and families throughout the entire holocaust process, from persecution to destruction. There were bits of poetry or diaries that do an amazingly terrifying job of describing what victims were thinking and feeling. It was also very important for this museum to make very clear how explicit the policies of genocide were, I think in order to eliminate any question about "whether it happened" or "was a Jewish conspiracy." Similar to the SS museum, a good part of it is dedicated to official documents and quotes from SS high-ups that make the "question" quite simple.

-Stazi Prison: (For those that don't know, the Stazi was the secret police of East Germany.) This one was the "sleeper" museum. In its own terrifying way, it was _awesome_. The (German) tours are led by old victims of the Stazi that actually suffered _in_ that prison. Our English guide was a clunky/awkward, but very passionate, young kid. The big takeaway for me from much of this and the other stuff I am hearing and reading about East Germany was that the Soviets/DDR just get way too big a break. I think they're entirely comparable to the Nazis in every bad way except obsession with racial genocide. But in our history I think we think of the Soviets as "enemies" and the Nazis as "an unacceptable, existential evil that had to be wiped off the face of the earth as soon as possible," when the Stalinist version probably fell more into the latter camp. (NB: the Soviets got a lot less horribly evil after Stalin's death, but seem to have remained quite evil.)

Anyway: the prison (one of 17, but the biggest) itself was used for political prisoners. The Stazi (remember, East Germany only) had 90,000 official agents and 180,000 "unofficial assistants" at its peak, compared to the Gestapo's peak of 7,000. The Stazi would round up some-but-not-all cases of dissent, although it probably knew most of what was going on (at its heyday it read almos tall mail, bugged most homes, could bug any call, etc). These dissenters (which included people like their own foreign and financial ministers) were usually sent to this prison. Pre-1961 they were stuffed into tiny cells with 10-15 people, a wooden bed, a bucket for a toilet. Even though the original cells could only hold a few hundred at a time, "thousands" (not sure of the exact count) died from malnutrition, horrible hygenic conditions (buckets were cleaned once per day but they never showered, never changed clothes), or abuse from guards. They weren't allowed to talk and had to simply stand in their cell (no sleeping) during the day. People went crazy from no sunlight, and if they started shouting or became agitated, guards would come to beat them.

 

This would house 10-15 people.

The prison was used to extract confessions. They'd suddenly grab someone off the street (sometimes even in West Berlin!), stuff them in a truck with some fake company name, drive them around for hours to disorient them, and then throw them in the prison (prisoners never knew where they were). The Stazi already knew what was happening, but by getting confessions out of people, they could "legitimize" their rounding-up, as well as other behavior (they used extracted false confessions from this prison to justify building the Wall). They used torture methods like Chinese water torture, a "wet cell" (a small cell with ankle-high cold water), and just good ol' beating.

 

 

In 1961 that part of the prison shut down as East Germany tried to gain international recognition and pretended it was not an evil evil dictatorship. A new "white torture" facility was built, with more humane conditions. Each prisoner had his own cell with glass "bricks" (allowing one to get light but not see anything), a shower once a week, food three times a day. One was not allowed to see other prisoners and never did (even in the halls--they coordinated to prevent this). This isolation, constant surveillance, etc, was used to "wear down" the prisoner until they would confess in the (nonviolent but still twisted) interrogation rooms. After "confessing" to disloyalty to the party, then it was off to the gulag for 20 years or so, unless they were purchased by the West (political prisoners became a major export for the bankrupt DDR by the 70's).

The craziest part for me was that occasionally former Stazi sneak into the tours, harass the tour guides (who were former prisoners!) and claim that these stories were fabricated! Apparently they have every legal right to do this but the tour guides can make them leave if they're sufficiently disruptive to the tour. Imagine, being an old, tortured victim, and some jerkwad Stazi runs around calling you a liar.

Part of the "deal" of the reunification of Germany was that the only crimes that could be prosectuted from the East were related to murder directly. Former Stazi and other state-sponsored criminals apparently live all over the place; some of them are apparently lawyers & judges. I'm not sure how many of them are "converted" and ashamed, and how many are still defensive of the old regime... but it sends chills down one's spine. I think it's another example where Nazis & Soviets are treated differently. You can't even legally deny most Nazi war crimes (mostly the Holocaust, I think), but you can run around and harrass ols prisoners if you're a Stazi guy.

So it was very much worth going to all these. I felt sad or angry or horrified at different points. But it's important that we never do it again. I think, for the modern age, we must be very careful of governments, policies, or majoritarian trends where alternative thought or belief is considered dangerous. These collectivist/statist states like Fascism and Soviet-ism depended, for their system to work, on a suppression of alternative opinions, values, thoughts, politics, etc; they needed scapegoats when their broken systems didn't work... and so these horrors of super-surveillance and political prison came about. Beware, my friends, curtailing our privacy, and beware participating in a cultural suppression of alternative thought.

A bit more on cooking

Here are a few pictures from previously-described epic dinner, including me describing our meal and showing off a heck of a beer-chin.

More on Dinner

Turns out we had 14 people (total, ourselves included) for dinner last night. Chicken Paprika turned out a bit on the chewy side but everyone politely pretended they liked it. As chef, I got a bit of applause and, sadly, found that flattery still makes me blush. I am *sigh* weak-willed.

As the Americans in the room with Germans, Brazilians, Poles, Portuguese, and Turks (and as the only new friends to this friend circle), everyone was quite curious about us and what we were up to. Oleg (from Poland) commented, "it's like you guys are from Mars."

This, combined with me being incapable of shutting up, meant we talked about America for about half the night, spanning all sorts of topics: the Pacific Theatre in WWII, the use of nukes, the Cold War, the reasons for the invasion of Iraq, what people in the US think about guns, socialized medicine, terrorism, Europe, the environment, obesity and health, spying on ourselves and our European allies, and all sorts of other stuff. It was a tough hot-seat. Government policy in the US is not an easy thing to defend, but 2 great things came out of it:
1) I think I gave some really clear explanations--some biased and some nobly objective--to our European friends that gave them some appreciation of the complexities and context of the US and why we're not the same as the Continent, and why some of what we do is either understandable or entirely legitimate even though it's different from how they do things.
2) I clarified my own positions on a lot of issues by explaining them to people who didn't already have strong and informed opinions about them.

And coming out of it, I'm both more troubled at our current state and hopeful about the long-term than I was before. But I continue a trend where my identity with my country is increasingly separated from trying to defend my government. I'm also following a trend where I'm realizing there is such a range of culture and society across the States that it's very hard to say one thinks like an "American" in many spheres, except in those few that we separate from the Europeans entirely.

For an example of the Euros' current feelings about our government (but not our people, as while they are baffled by us at times, they know there is a difference), this magazine title says, "The False Friend:"

Beer Garden & Kreuzberg

Well, I think I finally feel like I'm living somewhere, with new friends coming out of the woodwork and going with them to "hang out" at new places, rather than "be a tourist" at new places.

I feel like we're temporary housemates with Florian and Kristine, rather than "guests." This is a huge departure from before, and exactly what I was looking for. We chat with them after work over a beer; tonight we're cooking more Chicken Paprikas together, hosting a whopping 7 other people. I've been appointed "chefkoch," or just "chef."

Last weekend we also went out to an awesome beer festival: a line along Karl-Marx-Allee that stretches for a whopping 4 subway stops, hosting probably every beer worth its salt in Germany, as well as many from Belgium, England, and then other countries. A bit expensive (compared to most German beer), but pretty awesome nonetheless. Also included great foods such as pretzels, roasted/sweetened nuts, mini donuts and mini crepes, bratwurst, cured sausages, currywurst, and a yummy meat-and-cheese-cooked-into-bread concoction (we ate this over 2 nights, because we decided to go twice).

Neat and foreboding clouds over Karl-Marx-Allee.

More Beer Festival.

We linked up with Florian and Kristine once more, this time with some 8 other friends that were touring around the different stalls (these two are pretty popular!). We hung out with them from 9 'till midnight, talking at large part about what we loved and hated about our individual countries, to much laughter and some debate (the Germans, like other continentals, are both quite blunt and quite insistent that there is really no way the United States has any good beer). It was all, of course, in very good fun.

The brave (led by Florian and Stephan) decided to move on after all the beer stalls closed--tragically--at 12pm. It was Saturday night and apparently for most of the hardcore this means that they had just finished pre-gaming. For myself, I was getting small servings of each beer to try more, but was feeling quite sober. So I joined the brave.

We went down to Kreuzberg, which is allegedly the grittiest, dirtiest, most punk, metal, left-wing, tattoo-and-piercings-laden, ethnically diverse, etc etc etc part of Berlin (and also VERY SAFE, MOM). It's in West Berlin but was surrounded by the Wall on 3 sides, making it very undesirable and thus quite cheap. It was quite run-down for some time and began to be inhabited only by poorer immigrants. Because West Berlin was the only part of West Germany where there was no conscription, those who wanted no part of it would often find Kreuzberg a cheap place to quickly jump to. This, of course, meant that there was a disproportionately high number of left-wingers and other anti-institutional thinkers. Thus the metal, the punk, etc. (Note I'm NOT saying that anti-draft people are all that way. I have a strong opposition to any draft, myself.)

Anyway: our first stop was "Trinkteufel," or "Drink-Devil." As you can see from the outside (the inside did not disappoint), it was the single most Metal place I have ever, ever been. It was swelteringly hot, full of smoke, and served cheap beer from a few Metal bartenders to their Metal patrons. We stuck out like sore thumbs but unlike the horrible anti-fantasies playing through my mind, nobody got up and decided to make a thing of it. (There is a biker bar near our house and we are just plain not going to go in there at any point, despite this experience.)

 We ended up staying out in the bars until after 3am, and finally decided to turn in. On our way back, we had really great shwarma (recommended by Florian and Stephan). My favorite moment of the night, though, was this: Florian went to a 24/7 outdoor produce stall (I know, I don't get it either) and bought some 5 avocados and a few other things for 2 Euro. At our marvel, Stephan turns to us and, for the 4th time of the night, declares with the flair of a showman: "Welcome to Kreuzberg!" Not as funny written down, but maybe I'm just writing it here so 60-year-old Erik will remember and get a giggle.

It was a maddeningly long subway + walk back, and we got to bed at 0430. The below is a picture of the middle of Berlin from the north--this walk-bridge crosses train tracks and then you have a pretty straight shot to downtown where the wall used to be, so it's still sufficiently under-built that you can see quite a bit.

On an unrelated note entirely: I went to the German National History museum and, of course, focused mostly on Nazis and Soviets. This was my favorite part: a single brave soul, crossing his arms in defiance during a parade, instead of doing the Furher salute. Who knows what happened to him, but other people that acted like this got visits from the SS. Just a sign that no matter how mad things get, someone's got to stand up for what's right.

The Wall and some Jazz

Last night on the way to see jazz we biked past 1.3km of the (outer) Berlin Wall that still stands.

It was chilling. It was long enough to feel that one might be trapped inside it; on the East side (assume we're always on the East side as it's where all the interesting stuff is), there is still a large "gap" between civilization and the wall itself (if one is not in the middle of the city)--this use to be the death strip and the "no-go" zone before it. So one feels one is on the outskirts of the city, in a totally different place, than when one is just 100 meters further into East Berlin.

On the West side of this strip, the original graffiti remains. On the east side, there is new graffiti that isn't as exciting, but as we rode past it all, it still felt both surreal and magical. For myself, I finally felt some of this history, as I had never felt it before. In such a mood I later looked up at the moon and marveled, deep in my heart, as I never had before, that a whole 45 years ago we put people on it.

It is difficult to imagine the Berlin wall, I think. It surrounded West Berlin, but it was the people on the outside that were trapped--has a wall like that ever been built before?

Can you imagine how despicable a society you've created that you have to kill people to keep them from escaping it--and people still tried by the thousands? (600 were killed trying to escape, some 5000 or so succeeded.)

Can you imagine the depths of self-delusion, of dissociation from reality, necessary for a leadership to continue to persist in policies that have turned their entire society into a prison? They called the Wall the "Anti-Fascist Protection Rampart," as if it was designed to keep outsiders from getting in. But from day one (in 1961), the guns were turned to the East. Can you imagine being at the party meeting in which this name was chosen? Did anyone in the room think a single human would believe it?

Was this the entire history of the Soviet Union--a giant farce that nobody at all believed but kept running around repeating in the hopes it may someday come true? Were the lines from the Party simply smoke for the populace: "as long as you say this and nothing else the Stazi won't drag you from your beds?"

Maybe the leadership really thought this was the path to prosperity? That someday Socialism would be achieved, that people would be happy, and they'd look back and be grateful force and terror was used to keep their capitalist temptations at bay?

The Soviet puppet government announced on Nov 9, 1989 that East Berliners would be permitted "to travel" to Western Germany. The original intent was that it would be an extremely limited group, only with the right papers. This would be a token concession to unrest (largely by brave kids in Stuttgart) in East Germany (after the East Germans saw the Hungarian and Polish people thrust off the Soviets after the army withdrew)... but the party head had missed the meeting and was under-equipped for the press conference, unsure of what his Soviet masters has decided. With much nervousness, he tried to shuffle through his notes when he was pressed on the details of travel (for those mit gut Deutsch, the video is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QB2E2T7KzAM). Under pressure and stumbling, he announced that travel was permitted throughout Germany, and immediately.

Stunned, were the Berliners. From both sides they flocked to the checkpoints. The Easterners were tens of thousands, pressing upon the checkpoints and demanding to be let through. The guards, unsure of what to do (and not being told otherwise), abdicated and threw the gates open. And lo, the end began. West Berliners met their kinsmen with (literally, apparently) all the champagne in the city, and bananas (which were hard to get in East Berlin). Strangers hugged, kissed, and cried together. The guards themselves, standing aside, wept as well.

The Soviets never managed to, at least with East Berlin, fool them into thinking they were marching towards paradise; it was only terror and death.

And, 24 years later, the city is tough, gritty, edgy, and incredibly forward-looking. It keeps none (or little) of the ghosts of Soviet rule in its heart that Budapest has, and it is not nostalgic of its longer past like Czech. Berlin, having been through so much in a century, is somehow incredibly free.

And so after biking along this wall, we turned to find "some great Jazz" that our tourguide earlier that day recommended. Let's just say that we got a bit lost getting there and ran into some very sketchy dudes doing drugs and trying to be "friendly."

But after that, we figured out where we were going. We were in the hipster frontier of Berlin, dotted with bars strung with lanterns and lights; drunk-munchies junk food joints run by Turks; bike rental shops and apartments with plants bursting out the windows.

The Jazz club was an island in the dark park, glowing a deep and fuzzy gold from its lights. The Jazz was upstairs, in a room hot and muggy and oppressive even in the cool night. It had a thick haze of smoke (of various kinds) perhaps reminiscent of bars before such smoking-inside became illegal nearly everywhere. Almost everyone there was young, which I deeply did not expect.

But the music was the gripping surprise of the night. We learned later that this simply mind-blowing jazz was all jamming by folks that don't regularly play together. Volunteers (I guess it was "amateur hour?") swapped occasionally on the drums or guitar or piano. I've never before been able to truly wrap my head around improv... but how can you sync up with a group you don't practice with? And how so well?

I do wish I had words for the performance. It would have been a faux pas to record it and, indeed, would have certainly done little justice. Heather (a jazz buff far beyond myself) and I both agreed it had to be the most gripping and exciting live performance we'd ever seen. These guys lit up when they got into a groove and were absolutely daring in their playing, making musically dangerous and hugely expressive, hard, fast decisions that seemed to require mind-melded syncing. The bassist had his eyes closed and ears twitching, biting his lip and making the bass sing; the guitarist mouthed the "ba-dee-boo-ba" of his playing as he kept his shoulders tight and eyes fixed intently on the other players; the drummer anchored the group and nodded at them with cues and provided his own bombastic, loud, broad-brushstroke (but fast! so fast!) solos. Bongo drummers (who always worry me... luckily nobody smelled of patchouli) joined him and, much to my surprise and delight, ripped the song apart with the drummer and brought the humming crowd to a standstill, brought the other players to stunned silence as they stood aside to let this magic happen.

These guys were sweat-soaked and all grins when each song ended.

We'd never seen anything like it before. We'll be back next Tuesday night; we'll make our ride along the Wall, hop the hip bars, and get there much, much earlier.

Berlin's Expressiveness

I ain't never seen so many tattoos, mohawks, nor left-wing street arts in all me life.

Not complaining

That is all.