Ramblings about a divided Germany

Many of the German classes that I’ve taken over the past seven or so years have had some sort of German history unit, be it a cursory two week overview of the whole of German history or an entire semester discussing Germany in the 20^th century. When I came to Berlin I thought that I had a pretty decent understanding of German culture, especially the relationship between the East and the West (the German department at IU loves divided Berlin). After an enlightening afternoon in class, I came to realize that really had no idea how things actually work here.

After the collapse of the Wall, and subsequently the German Democratic Republic, Germans on both sides of the border were calling for reunification. The West knew that it would have to support, for a time at least, the impoverished East, but this seemed a temporary situation. 20 years after reunification, I learned, West Germans are still supporting East Germany financially with a special tax. Unsurprisingly this financial backing is unpopular in the West, with fringe elements even calling for a return to a divided Germany.

Even from the short time that I’ve been here, I can tell whether I’m in East or West Berlin. Visually, the Eastern part of the city is crumbling and still shows damage from World War II, which isn’t seen as often in the West. When looking at a map of unemployment rates and household incomes, there is a perfect division that once again separates Germany and Berlin into East and West.  The same goes for voting patterns, with the left-wing party Die Linke winning the most votes in the East. Interestingly, Die Linke is more or less the direct successor to the Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands which ruled over East Germany.

Tangentially, one of the most fascinating and disturbing aspects of Berlin that I’ve encountered so far is the ever-present police officer stationed outside Jewish buildings and businesses. Apparently, there is still enough anti-Semitic though and threats here to warrant daily protection. Down the street from out hotel is a Jewish café, called Beth Café, which looks as it has been abandoned. No light comes through the windows, the doors are always closed, and I’ve yet to see anyone sitting outside or going inside. The only indication that the place is still in business is a large sign out front proclaiming that yes, they are open, come on inside. Before coming here, I never would have imagined that there are Germans sick enough to continue this line of poisonous thought and action. I realize now how naïve that was.