ISSN: 1045-0300 (print) • ISSN: 1558-5441 (online) • 4 issues per year
In December 1995, the Center for German and European Studies at
the University of California at Berkeley hosted the conference, “The
Postwar Transformation of Germany: Prosperity, Democracy, and
Nationhood.” During the proceedings and in the edited volume that
resulted, conference contributors explored the reasons for Germany’s
success in making the transition to a liberal democratic polity
supported by a rationalized national identity and a modern, dynamic
capitalist economy. In charting postwar Germany’s success, the contributors
weighed the relative contribution institutional, cultural, and
international variables made to the country’s transformation.
Marcel Reich-Ranicki, the German literary critic, recalls in his
recent memoirs that at age ten, when he set out from his small town
in Poland, his teacher said with tears in her eyes, “Mein Sohn, Du
fährst in das Land der Kultur.” Elias Canetti recalled in the first volume
of his memoir—The Tongue Set Free—how when he was age eight,
his mother, recently widowed, found fulfillment at the Burgtheater
and left Manchester to take up residence in Vienna. Was it just the
magic of the German language that transported these Jews and made
literary overachievers of their children? A vision of metropolitan culture
and assimilation? Culture was “the way ‘in,’” as Louis Spitzer
puts it in his book on marginality, Lives in Between.
The future political culture of eastern Germany and, with it, the relationship
between unified Germany’s once divided populations will
depend heavily upon how all Germans respond to a distinctive fact
about the east. The region experienced not one but, counting the
German Democratic Republic (GDR), two separate eras of dictatorship.
This fact can be, and has been, understood in two different
ways, with significantly different implications in each case. The first
is the perspective of the victim. According to this view, the citizens of
the GDR uniquely had to shoulder the burden of having been born,
in effect, “in the wrong place.” Not only did they endure greater
hardships than their western counterparts, such as the rebuilding of
Germany after World War II, but they suffered by themselves
through the debilitating consequences of Soviet occupation and their
inability, until 1990, to act upon the right to “free self-determination”
(to quote the original preamble of the Basic Law). As a result, according
to this argument, easterners were owed special treatment after
unification because of their distinctive misfortunes.
After ten years of research on Germany’s postunification political
culture, there is no scholarly consensus on the critical questions of
east-west differences, the impact of unification on western German
culture, and developmental trends in the two regions. These questions
have become more acute in the light of decreased eastern economic
growth, high unemployment, and growing evidence of a
radical right-wing subculture in the new states.
In the past century, Germany, for better and for worse, offered itself
as a natural laboratory for political science. Indeed, Germany’s
excesses of political violence and its dramatic regime changes largely
motivated the development of postwar American political science,
much of it the work of German émigrés and German-Jewish
refugees, of course. The continuing vicissitudes of the German experience
have, however, posed a particular challenge to the concept of
political culture as elaborated in the 1950s and 1960s,1 at least in
part to explain lingering authoritarianism in formally democratic
West Germany. Generally associated with political continuity or only
incremental change,2 the concept of political culture has been illequipped
to deal with historical ruptures such as Germany’s “break
with civilization” of 1933-1945 and the East German popular revolution
of 1989. As well, even less dramatic but still important and relatively
rapid cultural changes such as the rise of a liberal democratic
Verfassungspatriotismus sometime around the late 1970s in West Germany3
and the emergence of a postmodern, consumer capitalist culture
in eastern Germany since 19944 do not conform to mainstream
political culture theory’s expectations of gradual, only generational
change. To be sure, continuity, if not inertia, characterizes much of
politics, even in Germany. Still, to be of theoretical value, the concept
of political culture must be able not only to admit but to
account for change.
In 1995, as a Fulbright professor, I taught a seminar on “culture and
international order” at Humboldt University in Berlin. There I
reached the conclusion that, in order to analyze Kultur in Germany,
one also had to take into consideration the work of Schweinerei. In the
five years between the opening of the wall and my seminar, there had
been an explosion of interest in the concept “Kultur”—defined quite
concretely in public discourse as an element that united (or divided)
East and West Berliners, or as a substance that had been damaged
during the cold war and now needed restoration.1 Irrespective of the
speaker, Kultur was always something good, a positive ordering. One
never needed less Kultur. Either one argued, as a proponent of Multikulti,
for more of them, more cultures, or, as a monoculturalist, for
merely better (more refined, more pure) Kultur and the value of a
distinct German culture. The decision reached in 1991 to move the
capital from Bonn to Berlin as a means of unifying Germans also cast
a kind of Klieg light on Kultur, as the relocation itself drew many
new visitors, who, having only construction sites of the future capital
to view, spent the rest of their time enjoying Berlin’s numerous (often
duplicate) cultural institutions and industries for the first time.2 At this
very moment of general good will, inclusiveness, and prominence,
these Berlin cultural institutions had the most to lose (or gain), as
ministers of the newly unified state promised more selective support
following a round of rationalizations if not eliminations.
Many observers of the German scene have argued that the long-term
non-German resident populations have become de facto permanent
members of German society. Beginning in the 1980s, the term
Heimkehrillusion, the “illusion of returning home,” gained prominence
in accounts of the guest workers’ trajectories, as many social scientists
and policy makers came to dismiss the continued assertions of some
migrant populations of their intention to eventually return “home.”
The increasingly accepted view was that “even though many [migrants]
have the goal to return sometime, this goal becomes increasingly
unlikely the longer they stay in Germany. For many families who have
established themselves here, there are no possibilities left in the country
of origin” (Institute für Zukunftsforschung, 15). The evidence that
“most of the ‘guest-workers’ would not return to their home countries”
continues to be pointedly cited in more recent efforts to push the German
state into reforming citizenship laws and taking responsibility for
the multicultural reality of German society (Hagedorn 2000, 4). The
permanence of the non-German population and their growing commitment
to life in Germany has, over the years, been the cornerstone of
progressive arguments that non-German residents merit full membership
in the German polity and that notions of “Germanness” must be
de-ethnicized and made more permeable. Explicit reference to
Heimkehrillusion has largely dropped out of current discussions of citizenship
reform and forms of belonging, but the conclusion that all resident
migrants in Germany are unambiguously there to stay has come
to form the unquestioned basis of contemporary debate.
Contemporary interstate relations in Europe are proclaimed by
Europeans to be little short of ideal. Every nation and every state is
told to behave toward others as do the states of the European Union.
Inter-European relations, we are told, illustrate the norms to which
everyone should aspire. Moreover, the same civilized rules of political
behavior apply within each country.