Places of Remembrance | Berlin 647 kilometers – thank God!
"As early as the night of October 3, 1990, numerous communities, clubs, and initiatives created a memorial to the reunification of the two German states by planting a tree sapling or erecting a memorial stone," writes Anne Kaminsky, chairwoman of the Federal Foundation for the Reappraisal of the SED Dictatorship, in her introduction to the volume presented here. The volume is intended as an invitation "to discover the multitude and diversity of memorial symbols and to read public space as a mirror of society's engagement with the history of unification." Multitude, yes. But diversity?
Lena Ens has visited 250 "places of remembrance of German unity." The first photo in this richly illustrated volume (the goal, after all, is to document) shows a boulder, similar to the well-known Bismarck stones (Chancellor of the first German unification, 1871) found everywhere in Germany, but in this case dedicated to the so-called reunification. Here in Itzehoe, a small town in Schleswig-Holstein, but found in abundance throughout Germany. So much for diversity, or rather simplicity.
The volume opens with a historical excursus written by Robert Grünbaum, a Leipzig native (born 1967) and deputy director of the Federal Foundation since 2001: "From Revolution to Unity – A German Year." It begins with the world-historical "misunderstanding" that SED Politburo member Günter Schabowski vented at an international press conference on November 9, 1989. "Thousands flocked to the border crossings in Berlin and forced their opening. That same evening, the barriers were raised – without plan, without orders, without force. Not a shot was fired. Instead, the people simply started running. At first hesitantly, then more determinedly. They pushed across the border, shouting, laughing, and crying with joy. They celebrated a spontaneous festival on the Kurfürstendamm and danced on the Wall."
After Grünbaum has recapitulated in chronological order the events of autumn 1989, the People's Chamber elections on March 18, 1990, the monetary union on July 1, the Two Plus Four talks and the Unification Treaty signed on August 31 of that year and passed by the People's Chamber and the Bundestag on September 20, the alphabetical list of places of remembrance for German unity begins, meticulously compiled by the historian Lena Ens.
Baden-Württemberg leads the way, followed by Bavaria. Ugly gray boulders, engraved with the date of the GDR's accession to the Federal Republic, exude neither jubilation, joy, nor euphoria, nor convey any message to humanity. Titled "Memorial," an expanded metal fence erected by Maria Vill and David Mannstein once marked the border between the GDR and the Federal Republic—incidentally, manufactured by the "class enemy," the Krupp company. And in the "Park of German Unity" in Burghausen, Upper Bavaria, two original segments of the Berlin Wall are on display. Not very original either; there are those in every major German city.
Similar things are happening all over West Germany, from the south up to the north, in Hesse and Schleswig-Holstein. In many cases, plaques and stones celebrating the "popular uprising" of June 17, 1953, in the GDR during the Cold War were simply inscribed with the date of "reunification," without any commentary. This provides a deep insight into the souls of our brothers and sisters west of the Elbe. And what could be more meaningful than the inscription carved on a fragment of the unified monument in Baden-Württemberg: "Berlin 647 kilometers." Thank goodness! "Peace" and "unification" trees have been planted in many places, mostly German oaks and lindens. And how many German Unity Squares are there now?! Countless.
In Lower Saxony, not far from the memorials to the division of Germany in Helmstedt and Marienborn, a nine-meter-high cast-iron figure, resting on heavy granite blocks, rises into the sky directly on the A2 Autobahn, Lena Ens explains. "The French sculptor Josep Castell created two intertwined hands resting on shattered remains of a wall." The East German immediately thinks of the symbol for the Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED), which emerged from a different kind of unity—the working class in 1946, as a lesson from its defeat in 1933 due to its division. Hmm.
So, what's the situation with the memorials in East Germany? Lena Ens found something here, too. "Out of joy over reunification, the former Giessen stonemason Herbert Küchler used his own resources to create a memorial stone commemorating German unity and placed it at the town entrance," we learn. And at the same time, she sinks into grief. The brave man's work in Luckau, Brandenburg, resembles a gravestone. Which doesn't make it unique. Several other memorials of "reunification" from Suhl to Rostock also exude a cemetery atmosphere. But perhaps this shouldn't be overinterpreted.
In Bad Doberan, a small town west of Rostock, a memorial stone in a meadow commemorates Mikhail Gorbachev, without whom October 3, 1990, would have been unthinkable. The last CPSU General Secretary wished: "The German nation happiness, prosperity, and peace in a united Europe." Without a comma. More original is an installation in Waren/Müritz by the artists Dagmar Korintenberg and Wolf Kipper, which takes up the demands of East German citizens in the fall of 1989.
Berlin doesn't exactly shine with creativity and ingenuity either. In the western part of the city, sculptures of US Presidents Ronald Reagan ("Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!", 1987) and George W. Bush Senior (who in 1990 had to dispel Margaret Thatcher and François Mitterrand's fears of a new Greater Germany) are considered memorials to German "reunification." And, of course, the "Chancellor of Unity," Helmut Kohl, is also honored with a sculpture and commemorative plaque. The "Unity Seesaw," which was supposed to be erected in front of the Berlin Palace a decade ago as a monument to freedom and unity, remains a phantom. Thank goodness.
In short, we owe Lena Ens and the Foundation for the Reappraisal of the Past a highly insightful compendium.
Lena Ens: Places of Remembrance of German Unity. Metropol-Verlag, 246 pp., hardcover, €24.
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