Divided in Unity: An uncertain future for Germany
On November 9th, 1989, just over 30 years ago, Günther Schabowski, the German Democratic Republic’s (GDR) official spokesman, gave a press conference, announcing the opening of the Berlin wall, 28 years after its construction. The press conference was hastily organised, and Schabowski had been insufficiently briefed. The matter was only slipped in at the end of an hour-long press conference, and when he was subsequently asked the simplest of follow-up questions, he put his glasses back on and shuffled his papers. The question concerned when the new border regulations would be put into practice. After a moment’s hesitation he replied that it was to be immediately. In fact, according to the papers which he had in front of him, the border was to open tomorrow, by which point the GDR was hoping to have a more concrete policy ready and the so-called freedom of movement would still have been somewhat limited. As it turned out this moment was just one of many, forming part of the irresistible revolutionary sentiment that was sweeping through the country and the rest of the rapidly imploding Soviet Union. Millions of East Germans streamed towards the wall, excited by the new possibilities of travel and opportunity that their new existence would bring.
The reality has not been quite so rosy. 30 years on from the fall of the wall talk of an incomplete reunification is still prevalent. GDP per capita is still around 20% lower in the East than in the West, wages are still at 15% and only 7% of Germany’s 500 most-valued companies are headquartered in the East. One government survey found that 57% of East Germans feel like second class citizens in the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG). For many the fall of the wall did bring freedom and new opportunities. Young East Germans now attend schools and Universities in the West, as the open border and the strong German passport has given them the opportunity to travel far and wide. However, the dismantling of the nationalised institutions in the aftermath of reunification brought a huge amount of instability. In 1994 only 18% of East Germans still had the same job they had had in 1991.
Meanwhile, for West Germans little changed after 1989. They remained citizens of the FRG, their country simply became a little bigger. West Berliners, for example, would still rarely consider moving to the East. As a result, the East has experienced a significant brain drain, with young, skilled workers heading to the West and gaining little in return. In this light the disparate economic statistics are hardly surprising and if nothing changes there seems little chance of them abating, with the lack of investment and emigrating workforce sustaining each other. The reality is that the transition was always going to be much harder than the initial euphoria suggested. The FRG and the GDR were two vastly different political and economic systems and to bring them together smoothly was a massive undertaking.
All of these factors have seen a significant political shift in the past few years. In recent subsequent local elections in Thuringia, Saxony and Brandenburg, three of the five East German states, the voters have opted for the Alternative für Deutschland (AFD), Germany’s far right extremist party, and die Linke, a party still heavily linked to the former Socialist Unity party (SED) instead of the traditional right and left parties the CDU and the SPD. The voters are voicing their dissatisfaction, reflecting the increasing sense of polarisation that we are witnessing worldwide. A key difference, however, is that die Linke’s main voter bank tends to be elder, those who still hold onto the fond memories of their former despotic homeland, while younger voters predominantly seem to be turning towards the AFD as the answer to their problems. In both Saxony and Thuringia, the AFD was the most popular party for under 30s.
That all leaves the future of German politics in a rather precarious situation. So long the bastion of moderate centrism around the world, with Merkel’s dogged pragmatism remaining an antithesis to the polarising forces that have swept around the world in the latter part of this decade. Now, however, her time is drawing rapidly to a close and there is sure to be a power vacuum left in her wake. Her party, the Christian Democratic Union (CDU), is declining rapidly in popularity and her anointed successor, Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer seems to lack her gravitas and widespread appeal. Perhaps the German people, in absence of the comforting, unifying figure of Mutti Merkel, had tired of centrist politics and yearned for a more radical response to the issues they hold dearest. Certainly, the massive rise of the Green party would seem to indicate so. Likewise, the persistent poor performances of the major party on the left the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SPD) have triggered them to lurch to the left in their latest leadership elections in an attempt to rebuild their base and counter the Green movement on their left flank. This could, in the coming months, lead to a breakdown in the left-right coalition, which has been in power for three of Merkel’s four terms. An early election, ahead of the one scheduled for 2021, could prove both enlightening and divisive, bringing to the surface all of the issues, upon which the country is divided.
Foremost amongst those divisions remains the East-West tension and with the bowing out of Merkel, the long-term East German chancellor, and next year marking 30 years since reunification, this debate does not look like dying out any time soon.
