THE GERMANY that today marks the 50th anniversary of the Berlin Wall’s construction is Europe’s pre-eminent political power, flush with economic success and less troubled by social divisions than most of its neighbours. This anniversary is a melancholy one, however, a moment to remember at least 169 people who died trying to escape from East to West and to reflect on the suffering of countless others whose lives were torn apart by the wall.
The order to seal the border on August 13th 1961 was an act of desperation by an East German leadership that had watched helplessly an exodus of skilled workers. More than three million had left since 1945 and by early August, East Germans were fleeing the communist state at the rate of 1,000 a day. The move was approved by Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev after western powers made clear that dividing Berlin was preferable to risking armed conflict – “a wall is a hell of a lot better than a war,” as President John F Kennedy put it.
The ring of concrete, barbed wire, dog runs, landmines and watchtowers around West Berlin and similar fortifications along the inner-German border succeeded in stemming the flow of refugees. But stability came at a steep price for East German society, which congealed into a police state governed by fear and betrayal, with spies listening in on every corner, in every workplace and classroom and even within families. The suppression of dissent and the state-ordered murder of those who sought to flee across the wall failed to snuff out the yearning for freedom among East Germans or the sense of a shared national identity in both parts of Germany.
The wall’s destruction in 1989 heralded a succession of joyful political events across the world, as other communist regimes in Europe fell, apartheid was swept away in South Africa and the resolution of apparently intractable disputes, notably the conflict in Northern Ireland, suddenly seemed possible.
Today’s anniversary serves as a reminder, however, of the physical barriers that are still to be found across the world – from the demilitarised zone between the two Koreas to the Israeli separation fence, from the high-tech fortifications around the Spanish outposts of Ceuta and Melilla in North Africa to the “peace lines” that divide communities in Northern Ireland.
Each surviving barrier has been given its own justification and some offer a sense of security to people scarred by years of conflict but each is above all, a testament to political failure.