Forgotten Land (4 page)
Authors: Max Egremont
The street names are now changing back; Gorky Street has become Hoffmann Street again. Tour guides point out other obvious survivors – the neo-classical old stock exchange or the theatre, given a new pillared façade by the Soviets, with the statue of Friedrich Schiller in front of it, surviving 1945 apparently
because a soldier chalked on it that this was a great poet. Near the nineteenth-century university buildings, the guides lead their groups down into the bunker where the last German commander, General Lasch, directed the drawn-out defence of Königsberg; then perhaps they go to the Oceanographic Museum (a Soviet addition, with whole ships and submarines docked on the Pregel) or to the zoo, a tired place where slow-breathing animals lie beside murky pools. The zoo is the place for Hans’s story: how astonishing care was lavished upon one hippopotamus during the horrific human suffering after the siege’s end. More than forty bits of shell and bullets were pulled from Hans’s armoured skin and a Red Army vet slept alongside him, tending the wounds or massaging the hippopotamus’s heaving stomach as it endured chronic indigestion. What could be done? Eventually, after massive infusions of vodka, Hans walked, or staggered, again.
because a soldier chalked on it that this was a great poet. Near the nineteenth-century university buildings, the guides lead their groups down into the bunker where the last German commander, General Lasch, directed the drawn-out defence of Königsberg; then perhaps they go to the Oceanographic Museum (a Soviet addition, with whole ships and submarines docked on the Pregel) or to the zoo, a tired place where slow-breathing animals lie beside murky pools. The zoo is the place for Hans’s story: how astonishing care was lavished upon one hippopotamus during the horrific human suffering after the siege’s end. More than forty bits of shell and bullets were pulled from Hans’s armoured skin and a Red Army vet slept alongside him, tending the wounds or massaging the hippopotamus’s heaving stomach as it endured chronic indigestion. What could be done? Eventually, after massive infusions of vodka, Hans walked, or staggered, again.
Eighteenth-century warehouses in pre-1945 Königsberg, with the castle tower in the distance.
In 2007, fifteen years after my first visit, I call on the German Consul in Kaliningrad in the bright, newly built villa where he has his office. Guido Herz explains how uninterested he was previously in this part of the world, anxious perhaps to block out any imagined plot of a surreptitious German retaking of Königsberg. Short, dark-haired, tanned and dapper, quick in speech and gesture, he is, he says, a Roman Catholic from Heidelberg: not a Prussian or with any emotional attachment to the old East Prussia or the eastern former German lands – none at all. His face shows distaste, as if these places give him pain.
He looks at me sharply. He and Berlin accept completely that this region is Russian – and he sees the city as divided into two parts: the Russian present and the German (or Prussian) past. Did I know that Kaliningrad is booming – booming, booming, booming? he repeats, breaking briefly into English. There is 10 per cent growth per annum and very low unemployment. Which German firms are here? I ask. The Consul is sensitive perhaps to the charge of commercial imperialism. He says only that there are several: one that makes children’s goods. The BMW assembly plant is nothing to do with Germany and is a Russian company. It also assembles KIA cars from Korea.
Booming, booming, booming – a volley of triumph. This may be true of the city. But out in the country I remember the pools of green-brown water on fields where the old drainage systems have broken down; the old woman in the stained headscarf who had offered me shrivelled grapes from her garden in a near-derelict house by a red-brick former Lutheran church; then, in Kaliningrad, at the furthest end of the old castle pond (past the two memorials to the Soviet submarine captain who had sunk the German liner the
Wilhelm Gustloff
in 1945, with the loss of thousands of civilian lives) the lighted windows of dilapidated industrial buildings at night, as if people work or live there.
Wilhelm Gustloff
in 1945, with the loss of thousands of civilian lives) the lighted windows of dilapidated industrial buildings at night, as if people work or live there.
Guido Herz says it’s true that the Russians had not wanted a consul – but he’s the second and they have welcomed him. When I ask about the groups in Germany that are pressing for recognition
of what they or their expelled ancestors lost or suffered, he explains that East Prussia is not so strongly represented among these as the Sudeten Germans or Silesians. Had I heard of Erika Steinbach, their leader? Guido Herz smiles. She has little influence now, he thinks, in Germany. It suits the Poles to use her – and again he breaks into English – as a bogeywoman. I think also that it suits those who move among the ghosts to remember that Chancellor Helmut Kohl, just before German reunification, had told the
Vertriebene
(expelled people) that they had been treated very unjustly.
of what they or their expelled ancestors lost or suffered, he explains that East Prussia is not so strongly represented among these as the Sudeten Germans or Silesians. Had I heard of Erika Steinbach, their leader? Guido Herz smiles. She has little influence now, he thinks, in Germany. It suits the Poles to use her – and again he breaks into English – as a bogeywoman. I think also that it suits those who move among the ghosts to remember that Chancellor Helmut Kohl, just before German reunification, had told the
Vertriebene
(expelled people) that they had been treated very unjustly.
One must get things into perspective, Herz says. The former East Prussia makes up only 0.4 per cent of Russian territory. The Russians have no fear of the Germans. Why should they? It’s the Czechs and the Poles who are anxious. Kaliningrad is a place of victims, he thinks: victims of the air raids, of Hitler, of the Red Army, of Stalin, of environmental disaster, of poor urban planning, of isolation or of neglect. Even more victims have been sent here, from the Chernobyl explosion, from the Armenian earthquakes; others came from all over the old Soviet Union, from choice or pressure. The problem has been in forming an identity. They need the German past, shown now in Königsberg and Ostmark beer, the number plates with ‘Königsberg’ written on them: the historic symbols – the restored cathedral, the medieval gates, Kant’s tomb. I think that Kaliningrad is old enough now to assert itself. From almost everywhere in the city you can see those two symbols of Russia: the huge new Orthodox cathedral and the empty concrete tower that was built to be the Communist Party headquarters.
Guido Herz has been sent on a mission of reconciliation. Germany is the closest foreign country for those who live here, he thinks – closer than neighbouring Poland, Lithuania or Belarus. Evidence of it is all around – in the streets, the parks, the squares, the graves, the statue of Schiller, the plaque on Agnes Miegel’s house, the way the Soviet centre blends at its edges into the pre-war suburbs, the gliding tourist buses. Outside the city,
it’s harder, he admits. You can rent land, but speculative buyers, taking advantage of tax concessions brought in to lure people to the region, often do nothing with what they have bought. Collective farms, abandoned after the demise of the Soviet Union, had replaced skilled German farmers; and much of the drainage was destroyed in the war. The land needs to be cherished. Once it produced some 20 per cent of the wheat in Germany.
it’s harder, he admits. You can rent land, but speculative buyers, taking advantage of tax concessions brought in to lure people to the region, often do nothing with what they have bought. Collective farms, abandoned after the demise of the Soviet Union, had replaced skilled German farmers; and much of the drainage was destroyed in the war. The land needs to be cherished. Once it produced some 20 per cent of the wheat in Germany.
What’s happened since 1992 is a letting in of light and money, a break from the military: the arrival of shopping and nightlife, the demolition of some of the bleaker post-war housing, a discovery of the past. In one of the tourist brochures, there’s a photograph of an elderly long-haired man unravelling a napkin, facing two tall silver-gilt candelabra and tiered dishes of fruit, seafood and caviar; the caption says, ‘It takes time to choose – Mr Benetton, the owner of the clothes brand, in a Kaliningrad restaurant.’
Alexei, a businessman in his early fifties, would have been impossible twenty years ago. In his first career, he was an army officer, reaching the rank of colonel, reputedly in the KGB. Now he lives with his family in Kaliningrad in a smart house from the German time. His father, also a professional soldier, came from Leningrad (the name given to St Petersburg from 1924) to the city in the 1950s, having served in Poland, among other places. Alexei’s two daughters were educated here. One now works in Moscow.
In his jeans and open-necked shirt, Alexei talks fluently. One of his tasks, at the request of the region’s Governor, Georgy Boos, a rich businessman put in by Putin, is to promote Kaliningrad. He has studied the history of the region and sees it as Russian but with a European focus. He has read Kant and can easily identify with both the Russian and the German periods – why shouldn’t he? Alexei’s eyes flit impatiently towards the window. This is Europe, he says, and he’s a European. But his office is only partly furnished; one feels that he may want to move on. The name Kaliningrad is bad, Alexei says. Obviously Königsberg isn’t possible
but the region is not German or Soviet – and I know what’s coming next. Something with Kant in it would be suitable, he thinks. After all, Kant was briefly a Russian citizen.
but the region is not German or Soviet – and I know what’s coming next. Something with Kant in it would be suitable, he thinks. After all, Kant was briefly a Russian citizen.
Alexei runs a regional development agency, with funding from local and national government. One of his projects is a joint Russian-Brazilian venture involving frozen food, importing this from Brazil, but they hope within four to five years to get the raw materials – poultry and cattle – from farms in Kaliningrad. It’s not so profitable now for businessmen to go into agriculture as into cars, logistics or trade. The special economic zone means that there are no customs duties and very low taxes on profit or property. This encourages firms to set up in Kaliningrad but also aids importers. Much of the food comes in from Lithuania or Poland, in addition to Alexei’s Brazilian frozen meat.
Alexei says the resources here are limited – not enough workable land, a shortage of skilled labour. So workers come in from Turkey, Kazakhstan and Ukraine. Russians are starting to enjoy the place – it’s relaxed, a good environment, cheaper living, friendly. People from Moscow or St Petersburg have property here for weekends or summer homes on the coast. Young people are staying instead of moving off to bigger places.
There is isolation. If you fly out to the rest of Russia it’s quick, but to go overland across Poland or Lithuania still involves getting an expensive visa that unblocks the way to any country in the European Union apart from Britain and Ireland, which did not sign the Schengen Agreement. So if you reach Poland or Lithuania you can go onto Paris or Rome. Alexei knows Poland. He thinks that relations between what he calls ordinary Russians and Poles and Lithuanians are good. But it’s not popular to speak Russian in Poland.
Those were the boom times, in 2007. Governor Boos boasted that here the Russians, whom he thought ‘the most flexible people in the world’, had made the transition from the stifling Soviet era to the new capitalism. They had joined the west, while remaining Russian. For instance, they would welcome missiles to the region
as a patriotic response to the missile-defence system planned by George W. Bush for the Czech Republic or Poland. Low taxes brought more businesses. Tourist plans included a series of giant casinos and a replica of Disneyland; ‘for the visitor, every day must be packed’, the Governor declared. Some of the atmosphere of old Königsberg would return – in the rebuilt castle or in new buildings along the river.
as a patriotic response to the missile-defence system planned by George W. Bush for the Czech Republic or Poland. Low taxes brought more businesses. Tourist plans included a series of giant casinos and a replica of Disneyland; ‘for the visitor, every day must be packed’, the Governor declared. Some of the atmosphere of old Königsberg would return – in the rebuilt castle or in new buildings along the river.
Isolation is no longer possible. The global financial crisis has hit Kaliningrad, mocking Boos’s hubris. Unemployment has risen, more than in most Russian cities. Prices have gone up; new building has either slowed or halted; the electronics sector (the assembling of products like television screens for foreign companies) has been virtually wiped out. The demonstrations that broke out across Russia in March 2010 were particularly well supported in Kaliningrad, with people carrying mandarin oranges as symbols of the tanned, small, round Governor. Putin moved; Boos was sacked. The problem is that many in the Kaliningrad region, cut off from the rest of Russia by Poland and Lithuania, compare it to another Europe, to the new life of Poles and Lithuanians within the European Union where young Kaliningraders often travel. The western dimension has come back to this forgotten land.
None of this resembles the great build-up of hatred that marked the end of East Prussia. It came even to a comparatively serene Britain when the future of the German eastern territories was raised in the House of Commons by the Prime Minister Winston Churchill on 15 December 1944. The debate was about what form post-war Poland might take. The plans were still hypothetical; Allied troops might be inside western Germany and the Red Army pouring across the eastern German frontiers, but the enemy was still fighting hard.
Churchill’s oratory rose, evoking a strange country, far from Westminster – ‘the most desolate’ Pripet Marshes; Danzig, ‘one of
the most magnificent cities and harbours in the whole of the world’ – as he spoke of Polish concessions to the Soviet Union in the east in return for conquered territory in the west. Germany would lose East Prussia, with its capital of Königsberg, coronation city of the Prussian kings. What would happen to the Germans? Expulsion was, the British Prime Minister said, the best answer: the shifting of millions of people – ‘a clean sweep’ – as had happened after 1918 when the frontiers between Greece and Turkey had been redrawn.
the most magnificent cities and harbours in the whole of the world’ – as he spoke of Polish concessions to the Soviet Union in the east in return for conquered territory in the west. Germany would lose East Prussia, with its capital of Königsberg, coronation city of the Prussian kings. What would happen to the Germans? Expulsion was, the British Prime Minister said, the best answer: the shifting of millions of people – ‘a clean sweep’ – as had happened after 1918 when the frontiers between Greece and Turkey had been redrawn.
Why shouldn’t there be room in a new Germany for the expelled East Prussians, Silesians, Pomeranians and the rest? Six to seven million Germans had been killed in a war ‘into which they did not hesitate, for a second time in a generation, to plunge all Europe and the world’. Ten or twelve million prisoners of war and slave labourers taken to Germany from previously conquered territories would be sent back to their own countries.
There was some sympathy at Westminster that December for the German victims. One member of parliament was shocked at the idea of ‘5,000,000 Germans again forced from their homes and transferred to western Germany’; another declared that ‘the Poles do not want East Prussia as a compensation. It is the same as if you took away East Anglia from Britain and gave it to Germany, and offered us Normandy instead. It is a monstrous suggestion.’ But the Conservative Robert Boothby claimed that the province was ‘to-day what it has been for the last two centuries, the focal point of the infection of Prussian militarism … The German population of East Prussia should be, as the Prime Minister said, expelled. It is rough but, by God, they deserve it.’
Other books
The Cause of Death by Roger MacBride Allen
The Alpha's Virgin Witch by Sam Crescent
Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) by Rachelle Paige
Finding Center by Katherine Locke
Deep Freeze Christmas by Marian P. Merritt
La silla de plata by C.S. Lewis
Meet Clara Andrews: A totally vacuous girl with a hangover... by Lacey London
The Fourth Horseman by Sarah Woodbury
9.0 - Sanctum by Bobby Adair
Trade Me by Courtney Milan