Thus, the GDR, which was always too cash-strapped for West Germany’s modernization mania, looks, in retrospect, like a salutary mummification. It preserved what western modernity, in its modernizing zeal, would not tolerate. And then the GDR fortunately fell just in time for the old architectural stock to be revived by the financial transfers of Aufbau Ost [the economic reconstruction of the East]. Ever since, the history-conscious, pan-German patriot prefers to travel to Stralsund rather than Pforzheim, to Görlitz rather than Stuttgart. Which is why the talk of the “new Länder” seems almost grotesque: compared to North Rhine-Westphalia, Saxony is a model of venerable old age.
In actuality, completely new coalitions are being formed, which cut across the old opposition of East-West. These new alliances, as far as one can tell, have something to do with the aforementioned museum-like character of the GDR, namely in a very fundamental sense. Germany has gained historical depth through reunification. The remnants of the GDR often create the impression of a trip backward in time, to Germany before 1933. An anachronism is at work here, one to which the present – with its fondness for the past – is very receptive.
[ . . . ]
In short: in certain respects the new Germany is connecting happily with cultural traditions that have remained much more vibrant in the GDR than in the West.
“Generation Berlin” has long since begun spending its weekends on the trails of the old GDR bohemianism in the dachas of Brandenburg – when Botho Strauß built himself a house in the Uckermark way back in the early nineties, he, too, became part of the conservative avant garde.
Of course, this is an ambivalent movement: looking at Brandenburg and Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, one could speak – to put it pointedly – of a re-feudalization that carries elements of a colonial land occupation. Between Müritz and Oder there are once again outdoor concerts in spruced-up manor parks, with invitation cards featuring Fontane quotes. . . Ingo Schulze, in his novel Neue Leben [New Lives], encapsulated this trend very caustically in the form of a highly dubious comic-opera aristocrat [who was] cast as “Reconstruction Helper East” in Altenburg in the year 1990. The character, like John the Baptist, spends the whole time promising the expectant Altenburgers the arrival of the hereditary prince.
But the most sensitive social seismograph is always the choice of school. Here, too, we see interesting social-chemical reactions, in which foreign elements enter into surprisingly new compounds: in Berlin, when there are no more spots with the Jesuits, the career-bourgeoisie of the West send their children to Pankow to the former eastern cadre school – just as long as there is discipline and an ethos of achievement (in return for which one tolerates the little ones being subjected to very unique history lessons . . .).
The remarkable debate about the renovation of Richard Paulick’s Staatsoper unter den Linden [State Opera on “Under the Linden”] in Berlin in 2008 was another clear sign of new alliances, because for the first time the PDS and the CDU were fighting under one banner in the name of Socialist classicism – which was by no means entirely comfortable for either side.
Are all of these examples merely cultural superstructure? Perhaps. But one should not underestimate its potency. For in many respects the Germany of 2009 differs more from North to South than East to West. How fortunate the land that was so powerfully shaken up!
Source: Ijoma Mangold, “Seid stolz auf eure Vorurteile” [“Be Proud of Your Prejudices”], Die Zeit, no. 29, July 9, 2009, p. 49.
Translation: Thomas Dunlap
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