The entire infrastructure of the city, from communications to sewage disposal, is being rebuilt. Trains, which brought the city its nineteenth-century prosperity, are to be improved; DM40 billion is to be spent on replacing obsolete stock, reopening abandoned routes and renovating old stations, while the Deutsche Bahn has earmarked DM20 billion for improvements to the network. The first ICE express train left Berlin Lichtenberg for Munich on 21 May 1993. The Lehrter Bahnhof will be Berlin’s main railway station, although six other important stations will be rebuilt or improved in the so-called ‘Mushroom Plan’; the Deutsche Bahn estimates that around 400 trains a day will move through Berlin by 2002; the massive new Lehrter Bahnhof alone is expected to process 240,000 travellers a day, and local transportation networks from the S-Bahn to the trams, from the U-Bahn to roads and bicycle paths are being improved to carry over one billion people per year. Water transport along the canals will grow by an estimated 85 per cent by 2010; the airports of Tegel, Tempelhof and Schönefeld, already stretched to capacity with their 10 million passengers a year, are to be replaced by the new ‘Berlin-Brandenburg International’ in 2010, by which time air traffic is expected to double.
Other institutions are being reorganized, unified or rebuilt. The 150,000 students at the Free University, the Technical University and Humboldt University can now transfer from one to another and Berlin’s academic reputation is beginning to recover after the dismal days of the 1960s and 1970s; 250 other research institutions are now located in Berlin, including the famous Wissenschaftszentrum Berlin für Sozialforschung (Central Academy for Social Research) and the Max Planck Society, which moved its legal base there in 1993. Berlin is presently trying to co-ordinate its three opera houses, its 150 theatres and concert halls, its 170 museums and collections, its 300 public and private galleries, its 250 public libraries and the dozens of other centres which were often replicated on each side of the Wall. But, as the brochures hastily point out, with everything from the Philharmonic Orchestra and the Schaubühne to the Film Festival Berlin is already an ‘international metropolis of culture’.20 Berliners have no doubt that the city is destined for greatness; by 2000 ‘Berlin will have more residents than Hamburg, Munich and Cologne together’; it will have created ‘2 million more jobs by 2010’; Greater Berlin, already six times the size of Paris in area with 4.2 million inhabitants, is ‘expected to reach 6 million in the next century’; it will be ‘the largest urban centre between the Atlantic and the Urals, a centre of commerce, culture, politics’. Willy Brandt’s words are repeated like a mantra: Berlin is the ‘Schick-salstadt der Deutschen’ – the city of German destiny.
The claims for Berlin are great, and it is true that what has been accomplished since 1989 is amazing by any standards. But a kind of desperation has crept into some of the slogans and statistics as Berliners struggle to maintain the enthusiasm at a time when the true costs of unification and the transferring of the capital have started to bite. Germany went through a bad patch in the late 1990s and the mood was edgy, with Ossis complaining of everything from high unemployment to the loss of the old benefits of the GDR and Wessis bickering about high taxes and the huge amounts of cash being siphoned off for the east. Even now the move from Bonn has become a sore point for some; Germans from Bremen to Leipzig to Erfurt complain that too much money is being spent in Berlin, while Frankfurt fears for its role as Germany’s main financial centre, Munich fears for its industry, Hamburg for its trade, and Bonn for its loss of status as capital. Germany as a whole is trying to work out how to reconcile the desire for a world-class centralized metropolis with the idea of a federal Germany which proved so successful after 1945. Some Germans even refer to the notion of a ‘capital city’ as an obsolete nineteenth-century concept and point in horror to places like Mexico City, the most polluted place in the world with its 25 million inhabitants and a subway which carries more people every day than Berlin’s entire population. As one Green activist put it to me in 1991, ‘We say no to this capital of smog.’ Berlin has suffered other disappointments – the hoped-for merger between the two provinces of Berlin-Brandenburg which would have greatly improved both economies was rejected in a 1996 referendum; the city was turned down as the site of the 2000 Olympics; and the government is moving when Berlin – one of the poorest of the federal Länder – is practically broke.21 The price of unity – from the decision to exchange the East German Mark with the Deutschmark on a one-to-one basis to the monetary requirements of a backward ex-GDR – has led to much unhappiness amongst East Germans; indeed, the birthrate there fell by 60 per cent between 1989 and 1992. Their plight was not helped by crass westerners who had never visited the GDR and certainly had no notion of what it meant to live in a police state, but who felt justified in treating Ossis with barely concealed disdain or, as one woman told me, like ‘children who haven’t yet learned to read’. Mutual antagonism is still strong in Berlin, with western Germans seeing the Ossis as ‘undankbar, kryptokommunistisch und völlig unproduktiv’ – ungrateful, crypto-Communist and totally unproductive. For their part the Ossis consider the West Berliners to be ‘elitär, egoistisch und faul’ – elitist, egotistical and lazy.22 Jürgen Kocka noted recently that ‘the transfer of the West German order to the former East German states has worked relatively well on the constitutional, legal, and institutional level. However, it has met with stiff resistance and has not progressed far on the level of social relations, political culture and everyday life.’23
But sympathy for citizens of the former GDR can go too far. Their Berlin is being transformed beyond recognition largely by western money: the dreariness of a decade ago has been replaced by buzzing and colourful streets and shops and the sense of freedom there is quite new. Whatever they now say about their ‘camaraderie’ or the marvellous child-care benefits of days gone by the GDR was virtually bankrupt by 1989, kept alive only by Soviet muscle and by East German minders like Erich Honecker and Erich Mielke and Markus Wolf. The ‘benefits’ were paid for by crime and oppression; even Wolf admits that selling ‘dissidents’ was the state’s biggest hard-currency earner. The end of the GDR is something to be celebrated, not mourned.
Even without the enormous financial and psychological costs of reunification, Berlin would find it difficult to convince all Germans that the move is a good idea. The much-favoured Spreebogen architect Axel Schultes complained in 1997 that ‘Berlin is stumbling into an almost too precipitous future. The euphoria of beginning is overshadowed by the feeling of being late … the fear of making mistakes, fear of taking risks, fear of loss of identity.’ Schultes even quoted Theodor Fontane, who said of the reconstruction of Berlin in the 1870s: ‘the city is growing, but the botching continues’.24 Dr Wolfgang Schäuble implored Germans to back the new capital, emphasizing that although the move might be expensive or cause disruption ‘it is not about the work place, moving or travel costs, or regional politics or structural politics. All those things are important, but in reality it is about the future of Germany. That is the decisive factor.’25 Even so, in a 1993 opinion poll only 51 per cent of Germans said that they thought of Berlin as their capital.26 Berliners clearly have much to do if they are to win over their fellow Germans. But they can at least take cold comfort from one thing – Berlin has been here before.
It