The Germans Are A Grand People

Two ims have stuck in my mind from very first day that Berlin wall was brought down thirty years ago today. One is a never-ending line of charming East German car called Trabant making ir way slowly through Check Point Charlie – only official pass to West Germany till n. It was like a festival. People singing, weeping, hugging each or – I was glued to television with my family, some of whom h served in World War II.

or im was closer. It was a handshake between Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev and United States (US) President Ronald Reagan at Intercontinental Hotel in Geneva. I stood re with journalists wondering what, yes, , surely yes. Staking out in journalese. two men came out and what followed was history in making. Lights, cameras, action! world would longer be divided into two blocs – one led by Soviets and or by Allies. re h been uprisings in Hungary (which was alrey fairly independent compared to or countries in Soviet bloc) and erstwhile Czechoslovakia and it h become more than apparent that Gorbachev could t quell ar revolt in East Germany. 

He could have rolled out tanks. Inste, he shook hands to bring wall down. I remember weeping because my links to Germany go back to even before my bror and I were born. I still believe Gorbachev is one of most unsung leers of world and history will restore his place one day. It was believed that his brilliant wife Raisa was a strong supporter of his decision to bring wall down.

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For weeks after that, map of Europe changed. Langu changed, conversations changed. Eastern Europe, Western Europe, East Berlin, West Berlin all mingled with hope and a sense of suspicion wondering what next. Cold war langu, NATO, troops strategic partnerships, Ass, Middle East, n Aligned Movement (NAM), what is that, anchor paragraphs, what’s your le, damn, I have white paper blindness, did y set a timeline, here’s my copy, give me your quote – se were some of my best moments in journalism. We were all competing with ourselves. best journalists are ones who play dumb. Trust me, it worked n as it works today. 

ncies h first cut, stringers like me and or independent journalists formed groups and between us, we spoke many langus - from Finnish to Hindi to Japanese and Portuguese – such was import of story. Some of us h also cultivated our friends among translators so as to t miss any nuance. This was t Google or social media journalism. This was real stuff. Every word you wrote h to be correct. I h a portable writer, a luxury in those days. It was a gift from my bror when I became a journalist. It s in running handwriting, like yours, so I thought I’d get it for you he said. Christmas was around corner. It felt like spring.

My parents h lived in Germany in early fifties. My mor, all of 22, h travelled by boat from Bombay to Gea (Italy) via en and n me her way to Recklinghausen in Ruhr belt where my far worked. When my parents didn’t want us, children, to understand something y were discussing, y’d switch to German. Several deces later my bror worked in same area. In mid-seventies, when I was semi-backpacking around Europe, I accidentally found myself in a train station in East Berlin. Like a good Indian, I thought I’d get off at last station and find my way to my bror’s flat. By time train reached station, it h emptied itself and re were only three people in platform including me. It still hn’t occurred to me that corridors train was suddenly going through was in East Germany, I h to get off at West Berlin station and train would continue to or side called East Berlin.

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couple me ir way out of station. Two soldiers, an animated half English, half German conversation, two phone calls later and a cup of coffee later, I was put on ar train and ordered to get off at next station. Heil Hitler, I wanted to say but magically my mouth remained shut! That is one story for my grandchildren. 

During those days, only way to visit East Germany was through famous Check Point, Charlie. re were heartbreaking stories of people trying to escape, being shot in moats, being electrocuted at barbed wires. My German host worked in police. It wasn’t easy for him and his wife – in fact, it wasn’t easy for anyone in Germany, a people divided because of war, a country that was allowed to bleed because Fuhrer olf Hitler wanted an empire. Fifty million people were de, 22 million of m Russians. 

I’ve visited Germany several times and country continues to fascinate me. Perhaps because my parents spoke so much about how every German was contributing to building war-torn country. My parents used to get a weekly allowance called kartofel gelt (potato money) with which y h to buy potatoes to encour local agriculture. y were also given post stamps to encour postal services. My mor, a writer in her own right, wrote a letter a day to Mras and me friends with everybody in vill as she was only n-German, a tall and stunning woman in a sari. Since my parents were only married couple in vill and my far loved to entertain people, it was parties every weekend with my mor making kartofel sambar, kartofel curry and yoghurt and rice for ir German and Indian friends. When wall fell, I was intermittently on phone to my far giving him a running commentary. 

I have visited Germany several times, once even invited by government after unification. In reunited Berlin, I walked up and down beautiful Unter den Linden (under limes) boulevard that touched all historic places, some of my parents visited, ors t. On one trip, I travelled up and down Rhine that continues to be used for transport. story goes that arts and culture blossom along riverbanks, like Cauvery belt. Magical stories of people who lived in harmony travelled from far bringing goodwill and good luck, breaking bre toger. I visited Cologne cadral of which family albums h bombed pictures. It was w rebuilt. My far and I took a train from Geneva to Kiel when I was working on HDW story. It took us through Germany right up to rrn edge. I could go on.

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You cant speak about reunification without Chancellor Helmut Kohl, kind of l’homme d’etat y don’t make anymore. Overnight one East German Mark equalled one West German Mark, people tightened ir belts and began process of rebuilding ir unification. Good things don’t come easy, neir do y come fast – that was lesson world got to learn from country as it went about building itself industrially, politically and emotionally. Today some 80 million people are competing ecomically with China – let that sink in.  A weakened Germany means a weakened Europe and you can alrey see signs of that in French President Emmanuel Macron’s concerns. 

Germany is only country in world that has atoned and continues to atone for extermination of over seven million Jews, homosexuals and gypsies. At a certain , school children are required to visit a concentration camp to see what human beings can do to ors. I have visited a few of m, trips arranged by German government without any guides. In sharp contrast, French continue to pretend that Vichy government (Nazi collaborators) never existed and Austria even sent one of it’s Nazis Kurt Waldheim to he United Nations (UN). He stepped down after it as his past was accidentally discovered. 

When I hear experts on Indian television shouting day in and day out about Holocaust and calling each or Nazis and Fascists, it is derision that comes to mind. People who have truly suffered don’t speak about it in much, perhaps similar ways to people who have truly done something in ir lives are loath to talk about it. Words cant capture se depths and heights.

For days before writing this piece, I kept asking myself how to write it. As a part of history with dates and people or as meetings and reunions around world as it became clear that something big was going to happen between Washington and Moscow or as a Geneva-based reporter bringing diplomatic conversations and questions. I finally took a decision – this one is from heart.

During one of my trips, one of my friends took me to a place from where we picked up a few pieces of broken wall. Some reminders are important. 

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