The Pecking on the Wall

After the fall of the Wall on 9 November 1989, Germany and Berlin were reunified on 3 October 1990. East Berlin and West Berlin grew together, two countries became one. Three decades later, clichés of “the West” and “the East” seem to be kept alive. Does “the wall in the head” still exist? In conversations, I ask Berliners how they witnessed the fall of the Wall and the later reunification.This text is not able to deliver any answers. It is rather a quest following traces. 

Text and Photography: Katharina Müller

There was the pounding sound of jackhammers. It was a hot summer day in August 1961, a Sunday. Annegret Dietmer’s parents returned to their 4-room apartment in Berlin-Neukölln and told their daughter of rather irritating construction noise on the way. Annegret recalls: “No one had imagined in the slightest, that a wall was built that would be known as the Berlin Wall and that would separate the city. I still cannot fathom that you can in fact separate a city.” However, this was exactly what happened: On 15 August 1961, the building of the Wall began.

We are three decades away after several decisive events in particular in 1989, which inevitably culminated and led to the fall of the Berlin Wall in October 1989. The Berlin Wall is a symbol, relic and landmark of the Cold War, of the separated and the reunified Germany and Berlin. On a length of 160 km, the Wall of Berlin separated the city Berlin from the building in August 1961 until the fall in October 1989 and ran between the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) and the German Democratic Republic (GDR), between the West Sectors and the Soviet Sector and thus parted neighbourhoods and people through a death strip. For the people in “the West” the wall represented shame, while for people in the GDR, the “Wall of Shame” was seen an “anti-fascist protection wall”, on which the Cold War took place.

Annegret Dietmer in Berlin-Neukölln

I met Annegret Dietmer, a pensioned secretary in Berlin-Treptow. Up until her early twenties she lived with her parents in a generously-sized apartment in Berlin-Neukölln, where she celebrated her 17th birthday only a few days after her parents reported of the noise they heard driving through Berlin in their car. They now know, what they heard was the construction of the Wall developing. Her relatives in Berlin-Lichtenberg should face the question soon when and whether they would be able to join any family festivities again. “There was a lot of uncertainty in the first few days and we were in absolute shock when we realized what a wall running through the city would mean for all of us”, the 77 year old remembers. Her gaze seemingly holding onto memories she had long put away.

In the first few days after the construction of the Wall started, pictures were taken that would go around the world. They showed people, who would jump out of their windows and being caught by Berlin fire brigades or jumped into death. Ida Siekmann was the first reported victim of the Berlin Wall, having jumped out of her window in Bernauer Straße when her windows and the front door, both facing the West sector were walled up. Her fatal accident in August 1961 caused widespread dismay and anger. But people’s protest and resistance against the barriers would not help. The most successful escape tunnels were located at Bernauer Straße. The Berlin Wall memorial recounts their stories.

Today it is known that between 1949 and 1961, 10.315 days, approximately 2.6 million people fled the Soviet Zone and the GDR to the West. 140 people tragically found their death. The Chronic of the Wall talks about 251 travellers from the East “who prior, while or after the controls on the border crossings” lost their lives. It feels grotesque to state the fatalities of a regime in blank numbers.

The separation of the German Democratic Republic (GDR) and Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) had been a gradual process and had started before the construction of the wall. In 1948, power supply and waste disposal were split, in 1952 the telephone connection. The first streets were blocked, pass through unabled. In the following year, the tram network was split.

Photography: Berlin Wall Memorial at Bernauer Straße, Berlin

In Berlin-Neukölln, family Dietmer bundled up a lot of “East packages” in their apartment during the course of the years—packages, they would fill with desired goods they would send to the Eastern part of Berlin or Germany, addressed to their relatives who lived “in the zone”. At some point, Annegret remembers, they became part of their weekly routine. Every other week, they would buy the double amount of some of the products, chocolate for her cousins. “In hindsight, it’s bizarre. The Wall was there, somehow we adjusted.” For many people that meant repressive measures and endured harassment, particularly in the Eastern part, travelling to the West was only allowed with a special approval. The border pass agreement of 1963 facilitated travelling for the people in the West to a certain extent and provided for a regulation enabling them to visit relatives in the Eastern part. “Our visits and phone calls became less frequent until they completely stopped.” They reunited when Annegret’s daughter turned 18 in 1991. Only then, Annegret learned of their relatives’ suspicion of having been being monitored by the Stasi for many long years.

Hannes Hofmann in Berlin-Pankow

It was the evening of 9 November 1989. At home, in his family’s apartment in Berlin-Pankow, son Hannes Hofmann learned about the opening of the border when he was showering. He grew up in a separated Berlin of the 70s, he recalls as we walk through the streets of his neighbourhood in Pankow. “Only few memories of my youth I remember so vividly. I was showering. My sister opened the bathroom door and screamed hysterically. I only understood very slowly what was going on. It felt surreal. What had happened?” Family Hofmann followed the press conference in front of their TV, when shortly before 7 in the evening, SED (Socialist Unity Party) official Günter Schabowski read the report of the Council of Ministers, which entailed the new travel regulations for GDR citizens. They should enable them to pass the cross-border points of the GDR into Western countries without stating further valid reasons. Schabowski’s answer to the astounded correspondents as to when they would in fact go into effect, should then make it a priority in all German channels and is to this day still often cited: “Das tritt nach meiner Kenntnis ... ist das unverzüglich, sofort.” (1) (”In my understanding it is … promptly, immediately.”) With this statement, Günter Schabowski not only caused ecstatic joy in family Hofmann’s living room, it was also immediately taken up by the media and prompted large crowds on both sides of the Berlin Wall to gather there. Only later it was known: The emigration movement was meant to be more organised, Schabowski’s statement a misunderstanding.“ At the border crossings it was sheer excitement, pushing and just lots of emotions.” Hannes Hofmann was 20 years old when the Wall eventually came down.

“I grew up in Pankow, then it was “the East”. Hence, I only knew what it was like growing up and living in the GDR and I only realized at the age of 16 that my dreams were unlikely to come true and I would reach a limit quickly. They were ordinary dreams of a teenager.” One of my class mates made it to the West and some people talked disparagingly about his family, others, like myself included were secret admirers. The propaganda machine in the GDR was tireless, yet the opposition grew. I became more and more aware of the revolting and resistance against the SED government and the GDR itself.” Hannes Hofmann was one of the Mauerspechte (wood peckers) who would punch into the wall with hammers and pickaxes. In retrospect, the pecking on the Wall of Berlin was an important act from a psychological viewpoint, he assures me. “I remember 1989 to be a particular rebellious year. We smelled a certain level of discontent in the air, but despite the pictures of thousands of GDR citizens fleeing to the embassies in Prague, Warsaw and Budapest, despite all the Monday demonstrations no one really expected that the Wall would in fact fall and certainly not at what speed the changes would come towards us.” He stretches out his arm. “I still get goose bumps when I remember these moments, when I think back and I see all these crowds of people. We have experienced the entire spectrum of emotions within a few days and even hours. But the questions afterwards were plenty. How do we go on from here? How do you bring two countries together?”

The Hofmanns have continued living in Berlin-Pankow. His parents have remained sceptic, they hardly travel to Western parts within Berlin. “They stick to what they know and I believe they feel more homely in “the East”, he said while he draws quotation marks into the air. “I know that they view “West Berliners” or even “West Germans” as different people. “I believe us East Berliners still tend to stay among us, at least still in my generation. Although it is greatly outdated and not contemporary anymore to differ between East and West, I am still aware of some comments even within my friends circle. For instance, when someone moves apartment, one might say “You are an East Berliner, you would not move to the West, would you?”

Before we part ways and I return to S-Bahn Pankow, I ask Hannes whether he thinks it is a question of generations rather than a fixation on the past? “Yes, I agree on this and I believe it is just a very normal process that is part of healing, too. The Berlin Wall plays a much greater role in the heads of people who have experienced her and lived in the GDR. My parent’s generation went through a lot, there’s still a certain degree of resistance and sometimes even a lack of trust into “the West”. The arising euphoria and the hoping after the fall of the Wall turned into disappointment and later frustration as the high unemployment rate for instance arose and led many East Germans and East Berliners to seek employment in the West. It might have even accelerated certain clichés of the Easterners “who have been deprived of all consumer goods and the constant feeling of having missed out on a lot in life”. He doesn’t want to be seen as a victim of the GDR either, he was given that name, too.

The question of how to merge a capitalist and a socialist economy so suddenly and two countries that have been separated rather abruptly and decisively after 1961 was followed by many challenges and hurdles. Amongst many uncertainties of the reunification, with no precise guidelines on how it could be done, one of the most severe problems was the comparatively poor productivity of the former East German economy and its links to the collapsing socialist economies of the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. It was the first unification of that sort. (2)

I returned to the Berlin Wall Memorial in Bernauer Straße in Berlin-Mitte to walk along a stretch of restored wall and reflect, amidst tourist groups, school class and a Korean peace group blasting out music and motivational speeches. I grew up in the 80s in the South of Germany, far closer to the French and Suisse borders than to any German-German borders. The only remembrance I have are the many history classes, the media coverage and the Berlin Wall and border lines marked as GDR running through the country in my mother’s old geography atlas book.

I wonder, perhaps the Wall is a subsequent symbol for the inner conflict of the city Berlin und a country, in which people longed for unification after the fall of the Wall, but somewhat have lost the agreement to be a unity during the course of time? Two parts of Germany have grown into one large piece, but never really entirely; the fragments are still to be seen and to be felt.

A piece of the wall at Bernauer Straße, Berlin Wall Memorial

Lale and Anika Denkmann in Berlin-Prenzlauer Berg

In Berlin-Prenzlauer Berg we gather around a round wooden kitchen table in a pretty and tastefully decorated apartment with hinged doors wide open and delicate stucco on the ceiling. It’s the apartment of Lale Denkmann and her partner Anika. Both were born two years before the fall of the Wall, Lale in the Western, Anika in the Eastern part. Both smile and exchange glances over the table on which we shared tea and home made almond cake. “For us as a couple, the fact that we both grew up and were socialised in either East or West Germany plays a role, not a very conscious one, rather a subtle one”, Laila says. “We are aware that in some aspects we’re wired differently”. Anika adds on a more sentimental note: “Germany and Berlin were parted for 28 years, these are very long years, which inevitably shapes and molds your thinking and acting – regardless of how you view the political system or party.”

In Anika’s family, too, there were supporters and opponents of the SED regime, people who were forced to part from relatives or important people in their lives, some have had experience with Stasi. In Anika’s family few agreed to talk. The processing of the SED regime in the GDR from 1949 to 1989 is still painful for some, for others these were years of fond memories. Memory seems to be an elastic term.

Over 30 years after the fall of the Wall, there are still the jibes and the clichés. Both do not want to hear no more naming and clichés, they assure me. “In very exaggerated terms, it seems to me that often the “arrogant West German”, having grown up in a post-war commercialism had an urge to tell “the deprived East German” how a country works. “As someone who was born in the GDR and into a family who have had strong ties within the GDR, I felt that from a West German viewpoint, East Berliners or East Germans should have to subordinate themselves to the West, that they did not really play a cultural part in the general view of Germany”, Anika concluded.

“We’re over it, we should be after 30 years.” Both agree that for their generation and the following ones, the differences play a lesser role, if any at all. “It’s the older generation that still struggle or at least have strong memories and some of them are not of the pleasant kind. Of course that takes time”.

Laura Tran in Berlin-Friedrichshain

As I leave their apartment and walk down the creaky wooden staircase and through the cream-coloured entrance with the stucco fresco upon the main entrance, I recall the conversation with Laura Tran during the interview for her portrait in Volume 1 - The Berlin Issue. “Partly, people and families were split up and separated, people fled or even died. One should not forget these traumas, which still exist or which have been passed on. These are wounds that need to heal and still take time.”

The "wall in the head"

Is it still necessary to write a text about the German-German unification and the convergence of two cities and two countries, today and three decades after the reunification happened? Yes, because the Wall remains a topic that arises still, sometimes openly addressed, often rather subliminally, underpinning a conversation.

The “wall in the head” is a term that the German media coined in the 90s, alluding to the mental barrier between the West and the East. Effectively, it is strikingly noticeable that in today’s rhetoric the differentiation between the East and the West is utilised still, often in political and social economical context, whereas we and the media specifically could employ other geographical levels of comparison in a more conscious way. Geographical regions or districts for instance. It seems as if the comparison of “the East” and “the West” is often kept alive - and actively so. It encourages clichés and consequently leads to social and cultural exclusion of a defined group. At this point, the question needs to be asked: Who are the people addressed as East Berliners and East Germans, who are the West Berliners and West Germans? It is rather a collective, perhaps even a primarily media centric self-perception, which makes question the assumption overall.

“That the “East Germans” became East Germans in such large number after 1989, those explicitly taken into account who rejected the GDR [...] if not detested, depends crucially on the [...] hardly bearable asymmetry of social views.“ (3)
— Wolfang Engler

Alice Bernard in Berlin-Mitte

Brunnenstraße in the Scheunen-quarter on a sunny day in Berlin-Mitte. Here, I met Alice Bernard, whose acquaintance I make rather coincidentally. Whenever she is in Berlin and not on Corsica, her second home, she comes here often, she recounts. Alice is now in her 70s and was born in Berlin after the war to a young Jewish-German mother who barely survived the Shoah. Pointing her ringed finger down the road along the house fronts, uncertain which of the house doors might have lead to her grandmother’s apartment, she recounted her story for me. Here, somewhere on this street, her grandmother must had lived, before she was collected and later did not survive the horrendous years in a deportation lager.

Alice Bernard grew up in a wounded Berlin surrounded by rubble and ashes. There were ruins and pain, she remembers. When Alice left Berlin for France, holding her mother and a borrowed suitcase, Berlin was already divided in different sectors by the Allies. The GDR would then be formed, reconstruction measures soon be undertaken. “To me, Berlin exerts an irresistible appeal, despite my family’s history, despite its past. It still is Heimat to me although I only grew up here the first few years of my life.” We arrive at Humboldpark, where Brunnenstraße merges into Badstraße. “To me, Berlin has always been a city that separated: People, good and bad, neighbourhoods and herself. And Berlin has always been a city that was able to connect and reconcile. And that, not many can do.”

Today, only little is left of the Berlin Wall. In June 1990, a complete demolition of the Wall began. Only half a year later, the Wall has vanished almost completely. A remaining piece can be found for instance on Niederkirchenstraße, right at the Berliner Abgeordnetenhaus, the House of Representatives. Bernauer Straße holds the Memorial alongside pieces of the Wall. Possibly the most famous Wall site, however, is at East Side Gallery depicting the “Fraternal Kiss” by Dmitri Vruble from 1990, which shows Leonid Breschnew (KPdSU, Soviet Union) and Erich Honecker (GDR, East Germany). It is a reproduction of a photography being taken during festivities in the GDR, dating 1979. Several thousand tonnes of the Wall were utilized as road gravel or for other construction works and larger pieces were shipped to other countries.

It was late in the afternoon, children on their bikes pass me, it was still warm. I walk on Berliner Mauerweg leading the way where the Wall ran through the city and the bordering state Brandenburg and I came to a halt in Berlin-Wedding, where Luisenstraße meets with Chauseestraße. I looked down on the brass plaque which has written on it: Berliner Mauer 1961-1989 (Berlin Wall 1961-1989). Invariably, I think of people gathering at the Berlin Wall after the announcement, eager to make it to the other side. I think of Hannes Hofmann, who held his hammer standing at the Wall, filled with hope to finally break free and pursue his dreams and I think of family Dietmer who finally reunite after so many years apart, of Alice Bernard, who carries so much grace. Admittedly, there is an underlying sense of pathos; there is also hope and a certain degree of significance that exudes in many a conversation I had with many Berliners.

Berlin is a city, I think to myself, that is able to turn differences into similarities. It is undoubtedly a character trait that may even facilitate the convergence of different cultural, but also political socializations and make them one, eventually, with time.

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Sources:

1) Bernd Lindner: Die demokratische Revolution in der DDR 1989/90. Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung: Bonn, 1998, page 106.
2) Germany: A Country Study Eric Solsten, DIANE Publishing, 1999, Page 258-264
3) Wolfgang Engler: Die Ostdeutschen als Avantgarde, Berlin: Aufbau‐ Verlag, 2002, page 17. See page 32, too for that reference.

Quotes and references translated by Katharina Müller from the German.