TIME Europe, November 15, 1999
Essay: The Best of Both Worlds
Still straddling east and west, Berlin could become Central Europe's world-class city

by GEORGE KONRAD

If until 1989 West Berlin represented the West within Eastern Europe, then with the end of the cold war the reunified Berlin has once again become a Central European city. The concept of Central Europe has not disappeared since 1989, but broadened. With the fall of the Iron Curtain, the two original Central European cities–Berlin and Vienna–returned to their geographically and culturally appropriate places: in Central Europe.

Berlin isn't in bad shape 10 years after the fall of the Wall. The union between the two sundered halves of the city is a great gain precisely because of people¹s many differences. East and West Berliners are colleagues in the same offices and try to handle each other's prejudices with understanding. Wessis are a little more relaxed, more ironic; Ossis a little more ponderous, more apt to moralize. The Wessis and Ossis studied different things; it's an advantage to have it all coming together now. Without the experience and achievements of East Europeans, Europe would not be what it is today. Together, we are more complete and more interesting.

Every world-class city attracts immigrants. Berlin has traditionally attracted people from Eastern Europe. Between the two World Wars, there were about 300,000 Russians in Berlin. There are Russians in Berlin now, too, and there always will be. It's natural. Going west from St. Petersburg or Moscow, Berlin is the next major city after Warsaw. If I have Russian cabbage soup with friends under a picture of Bulgakov at the Pasternak Café in the Prenzlauer Berg, I don't know whether the owner is Greek Orthodox or Jewish. Berlin has a tradition of hospitality to emigrant cultures, and that tradition is continuing.

Berlin is really a multitude of cities, a workshop for liberal democracy because it treats the subcultures inside it with interest and respect. Alert and enterprising people always want to go where something is happening, where a mystique is being created or revived, where some new and high-spirited local patriotism is being born. This is happening now in Berlin. Berliners have a strong interest in culture, and a curiosity about talents from afar. The relocation of the government, the political class and some large corporate centers to Berlin brings with it a growth in the number of educated wage earners who will assimilate–and help transform–the city's traditions.

Individuals and nations often like to see themselves as victims. Coming out of World War II, all the nations of Europe succeeded in doing so–except Germany. The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe has not yet been completed, and I have argued against the concrete megalomania of the design that appears likely to be approved. It is much more reminiscent of the camps themselves than of the murdered Jews, and doesn't in the least resemble my incinerated schoolmates. Debates about the memorial appear again and again in the news, something I cannot imagine happening anywhere else in Europe. The explanation, I believe, is that every other city has been able to deflect moral responsibility for administering the deportation of Jews. The Germans can't pass on the moral responsibility, and they don't. The Jews are not just part of the past, but a living and growing community. Today's Jewish immigrants also come predominantly from the East, and they stay in Berlin. Who are they? Jewish and Russian, but somewhat German, too. They can say with complete conviction: "Ich bin ein Berliner."

Lively and ambitious rivals to Berlin–Budapest, Prague and Warsaw–will no doubt rise. But within Europe, no single metropolis can claim to be the defining center. The network itself is the defining entity. Berlin can be a world-class city if it reaches out. But if it cringes, it will miss its chance. I hope Berlin does develop into a world-class city, because if Berlin appreciates rather than oppresses talent, if it avoids the anti-élite populisms of the left and right, then life will be calmer in Budapest and the rest of Europe, too. For a capitalist democracy to digest a state socialist dictatorship is a heavy lunch. Faiths, myths and memory live side by side. Like a sunken continent, the G.D.R. has moved into the memory of individuals. Since it is no longer a menacing power, it has become a community of nostalgia. Few people like to view their past, their youth, as miserable. Though the beloved intimacies of others may seem strange, it is the mix of manners, respect and humor‹things one finds in a world-class city‹that promotes the learning of liberal democracy. Let¹s hope that the culture of the third millennium is defined by dialogue rather than combat, and let¹s call this empathetic behavior dialogism. Who better to praise the power of words than a writer, who knows that words, not weapons, brought down the Wall?