35 Jahre schon …

… und nur noch 5 Jahre, bis Mauerfall und Existenz der DDR gleiche Zeiträume umspannen. Die “Neuen Länder” werden wohl immer noch “Neu” sein, exotisch.

Etwa jetzt, vor 35 Jahren – Donnerstag, 9. November 1989:

Bin spät von der Schule nach Hause gekommen. Bis halb acht haben wir uns (so ne Gruppe üblicher Verdächtiger) die kurz zuvor veröffentlichten “Schwierigkeiten mit der Wahrheit”, eine autobiographische Doku über den Prozess gegen Walter Janka, reingezogen (https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Janka). Janka war Dramaturg, wichtiger Kopf bei der DEFA, hat die “Mephisto”-Verfilmung mit angeleiert … spannend.

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Grit Lemke: Kinder von Hoy

Es ist ja nicht so, dass nix über den Osten geschrieben würde; im Gegenteil: in der jüngeren Vergangheit gab’s geradezu ne Flut an Büchern und Beiträgen. Flut ist halt auch das Bild, das strapaziert wird bei Migration – das Bildmotiv kann nun jede selber ergänzen. Unter den ersten Sachen, die je über den Osten erschienen sind, war dafür auch viel Mist – manchmal in der heiteren Variante der Komödie. Grit Lemkes Kinder von Hoy allerdings ist nunmal ein Buch, das ich irgendwie auch bewohne, ohne jemals in Hoy gewesen zu sein. Trotzdem kenn ich mich darin aus, und es fühlt sich mal gut an, sich in einer Bücherwelt auszukennen, sich mit-erzählt zu wissen, buchwürdig, mit allen Tugenden und Untugenden, sie halt das Leben ausmachen. Ich hab’s noch nicht durch, aber zusammen mit Kairos von Jenny Erpenbeck sind das nun endlich mal angemessene literarische Versionen des “Ostens”. Kairos sehr allegorisch und episch, und Hoy halt Hoy, eher proletarischer Stil. Und so muss det och sin.

National Holiday: 30 years of German Unity

This morning my wife, from Malawi and still somewhat disappointed by the German government that doesn’t give us the Monday off, asks me: “So this is your Independence Day?!” Uhmm, I’m from East Germany, that got me thinking. Isn’t it rather Dependence Day? … Now, I intend this ironically, in all seriousness! 😉

Actually, I get the sense that this 30th anniversary is more meaningful: I think we, as East Germans, are becoming who we are. I find it is noticeable, especially these days, and it feels healthy. Less victim of circumstances and world history, more confident. Wir sind der Osten is just one of the shapes this has taken.

Webseite der Initiative Wir sind der Osten
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First generation: “Zivildienst” in East Germany

Thirty years ago, I was one of those who for the first time in East German history were allowed to do Zivildienst, an alternative service instead of the compulsory military service. I received the letter around 15 March 1990, three days ahead of the national elections that were my first (I had turned 18 in January) – and due to to the victory of the CDU were known to be the last of an independent East Germany. Months later, in the night of 23 August 1990, the East German parliament decided to join the jurisdiction and political structure etc. of West Germany. They submitted (sic!) their decision to the West Germans after monetary union had already become effective by the end of June, and a decision for re-unification had been agreed on between the governments. At midnight 3 October 1990, East Germany a.k.a. GDR seized being an independent political unit, and until then we were her first and last Zivildientleistenden.

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9 November ’89 – the Fall of the Berlin Wall, and I’m tired

October and kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on
And on.

(U2 – October, 1982)

I have two beginnings for this blog post. I’m not sure I have a suitable ending.

Opening one: I’m just back from a discussion, with Naika Foroutan, about East-German migration analogies and prejudices against East-Germans, here at the local Literarisches Zentrum. “Here” means: Göttingen, West-Germany, for me, an East German by origin, my home of seven years now. Diaspora as well as home. “Here” also means: amongst an audience of, primarily, West-Germans. Naika Foroutan and host Robert Pausch are West Germans, too. They (“they”) speak about East Germans (“us”). Some of “us” are in the room. Their safeguard is the “objectivity” of the (social) sciences. “Objectivity” implies an object. An object implies a subject. Who’s who? I can feel I am one of the objects here, regardless whether I want to or not, and someone else assumes the role of the subject-agent. I observe.

on the other side (west) in 1989
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9 October 1989

30 years ago today, the “Wende”, the peaceful revolution in East Germany, truly started. After the brutal crack down of police on protesters and bystanders alike in Magdeburg two days earlier, everyone knew that something would happen. October 9 was a Monday, and hence I was at school (EOS Humbodt) in the morning hours. Directors and staff leaders in pretty much every institution and company approached their staff or students or even children at kindergarten, threatening that if they went out into the streets tonight their (or their parents’!) safety could not be guaranteed.

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DDR 40 – 7 October 1989

… 30 Years Revolution, part II

30 years ago today, the German Democratic Republic was meant to celebrate her 40th anniversary. There was little to celebrate, though. Thousands had fled the country in previous months, and illegal demonstrations happened in every major town, notably on Mondays. This though was a Saturday afternoon, and Sandow were playing in Magdeburg, by the banks of the river Elbe. Heavy rains delayed the soundcheck, and in the meantime lots of police trucks had pulled up and the police surrounded. Men that were much too old for punk music in groups of two or three infiltrated the crowd.

Concert with Sandow
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Prerow’s Last Legion

August 1989, and we were the “last legion” to be trained in one of East Germany’s paramilitary camps – one of the things that had become part and parcel of growing up in East Germany. Now we were there for a last time, though we didn’t know that yet.

Source
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30 Years Revolution, 1989-2019. Part 1

I was 17 in the summer of 1989, my last school holidays in-between grade eleven and twelve. Amidst irritating news about an increasing number of fellow East Germans who tried to flee across a newly opened Hungarian-Austrian border to western countries, a friend and I travelled the Isle of Rügen before we had to serve in a GST-Lager, a paramilitary camp, for a last time.

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