Tuesday, October 31
Our morning started with a trip on the U-Bahn (or was it the S-Bahn?) to the Kreuzberg area of Berlin, in the former West. The area is home to the Turkish community, as well as young students and professionals. It reminded me of Silverlake. We met in a fairly dilapidated building near apartments covered with satellite dishes. Many of the women covered their hair, and most of the men wore moustaches. Welcome to "Little Istanbul."
We engaged in conversations (through our translator) with both the President and Secretrary General of the "Turkish Communities of Berlin," an umbrella organization that covers forty-nine non-partisan organizations. Our speakers painted a rosy picture of the community's desire to become German and tried to make distinctions between them and the Arabs of Paris. In particular, they referenced their strong relations with the Jewish community and German government.
The fundamental problem for the Turks is that they never intended to stay in Germany nearly 45 years ago when they started their migration for work, and neither did the German government expect or prepare for them to remain. And so, from an initial group of 5,700 people, the Turkish population has exploded to over 3 million strong, with a significant percentage of them residing in Berlin. They face many challenges, many of which are aggravated by the German government. They include high unemployment (35%), lacking educational opportunities (40% do not complete their secondary education), xenophobia, and language difficulties. Until the German government recognizes the need to remove barriers of discrimination and allows for a more gradual integration (as opposed to forced assimilation), I don't expect the situation to improve. The good news is that one-third of Turks have taken on German citizenship, and an increasing number are entering professions and academia.
Just around the corner from the center, we observed a much bleaker picture, especially viz-a-vis the Jewish community. There we met Aycan Demirel, Director of the Kreuzberg Institute Against Antisemitism. We were all very impressed by this Turkish-led organization that has taken on the mission of fighting anti-Semitism among Germany's migrant workers (e.g., Turks, Arabs, etc.). He founded the organization after witnessing the emergence of anti-Semitism within his community, which often resulted in violent acts perpetrated against Jews. Such an organization is quite unique. Rarely do we see, with the exception of several European goverments, other communities, particularly those from the Middle East, combatting anti-Semitism among their own neighborhoods. Moreover, we often associate anti-Semitism in Germany with its right-wing variant and overlook its other sources.
Aycan has worked closely with the AJC and aims to reduce anti-Semitism by promoting education and public relations, monitoring anti-Semitism, and organizing events. In his presentation, he referenced the "New anti-Semitism," which includes the rejection of Israel's fundamental right to exist. Such an issue also puts him at odds with the Kreuzberg's Leftist community, of which he considers himself a member. Thus, he has become the target of criticism from a few circles, including his former friends of Turkish descent who resent him for airing their dirty laundry. Again, for the second time in a row, I was touched to see a non-Jew come to our defense -- all the more so from an individual who has risked his place within his community.
Aycan then joined us for lunch with participants in AJC's Turkish-Jewish outreach programs. We ate at a Turkish restaurant on the ground floor of an elegant apartment building overlooking the channel that runs through Kreuzberg. I sat between two Turkish Germans from very different backgrounds. Veyzal Ozcan. the Advisor on Migration and Integration to European MP Cem Ozdemir, was born in Germany, sported a long mane and scruffy facial hair, and claimed not to speak a word of Turkish. Ahmet Iyidirli of the German Social Democratic Party on the other hand was born in Turkey, spoke the language fluently, and donned the characteristic moustache. I suspect that there difference were generational, though I have heard concerns that the Turkish youth of today are less inclined to assimilate. In short, it was a stimulating lunch, and we walked away with greater knowledge of the Turkish community.
We left for the archives of the Stasi (the secret police of the former German Democratic Republic), which following the reunification of Germany opened to the public, particularly those who wish to learn about the files the Stasi accumulated on them. The Stasi was much feared, and pursued particularly invasive operations and employed millions of informants to collect sometimes mundane details on their acquaintances. We visited the copper room, which was designed to protect important records from radiation (in the event of a nuclear attack). We also learned about the tons of files that were shredded (and then torn once the machines wore-out) by the Stasi as they were bracing to open to the public. The archives are now researching methods to reassemble the pieces with the hope of learning even more about the Stasi's dark past.
And for the final official event of the day, we met with Dr. Anne Kaminsky, Executive Director of the Stuftung Aufarbeitung (a government funded foundation devoted to the examination of the Communist Dictatorship in the former East Germany). She discussed their program and scholarship, as well as their projects aimd at promoting reconciliation between East and West.
But the end of the day did not end there. We then raced (or rather I did, with the others from the L.A. group trailing behind) to the State Opera House on Unter de Linden. We arrived just in the nick of time for a performance of Tosca. The opera was a bit depressing -- everyone died. On the bright side, the vocal and orchestral talent, set-design, and opera house were all outstanding. The opera house was a bit smaller than anticipated, but created a more intimate setting to appreciate the performance. It provided the perfect finale to a long day, though the "fat lady" was noticably missing.
We engaged in conversations (through our translator) with both the President and Secretrary General of the "Turkish Communities of Berlin," an umbrella organization that covers forty-nine non-partisan organizations. Our speakers painted a rosy picture of the community's desire to become German and tried to make distinctions between them and the Arabs of Paris. In particular, they referenced their strong relations with the Jewish community and German government.
The fundamental problem for the Turks is that they never intended to stay in Germany nearly 45 years ago when they started their migration for work, and neither did the German government expect or prepare for them to remain. And so, from an initial group of 5,700 people, the Turkish population has exploded to over 3 million strong, with a significant percentage of them residing in Berlin. They face many challenges, many of which are aggravated by the German government. They include high unemployment (35%), lacking educational opportunities (40% do not complete their secondary education), xenophobia, and language difficulties. Until the German government recognizes the need to remove barriers of discrimination and allows for a more gradual integration (as opposed to forced assimilation), I don't expect the situation to improve. The good news is that one-third of Turks have taken on German citizenship, and an increasing number are entering professions and academia.
Just around the corner from the center, we observed a much bleaker picture, especially viz-a-vis the Jewish community. There we met Aycan Demirel, Director of the Kreuzberg Institute Against Antisemitism. We were all very impressed by this Turkish-led organization that has taken on the mission of fighting anti-Semitism among Germany's migrant workers (e.g., Turks, Arabs, etc.). He founded the organization after witnessing the emergence of anti-Semitism within his community, which often resulted in violent acts perpetrated against Jews. Such an organization is quite unique. Rarely do we see, with the exception of several European goverments, other communities, particularly those from the Middle East, combatting anti-Semitism among their own neighborhoods. Moreover, we often associate anti-Semitism in Germany with its right-wing variant and overlook its other sources.
Aycan has worked closely with the AJC and aims to reduce anti-Semitism by promoting education and public relations, monitoring anti-Semitism, and organizing events. In his presentation, he referenced the "New anti-Semitism," which includes the rejection of Israel's fundamental right to exist. Such an issue also puts him at odds with the Kreuzberg's Leftist community, of which he considers himself a member. Thus, he has become the target of criticism from a few circles, including his former friends of Turkish descent who resent him for airing their dirty laundry. Again, for the second time in a row, I was touched to see a non-Jew come to our defense -- all the more so from an individual who has risked his place within his community.
Aycan then joined us for lunch with participants in AJC's Turkish-Jewish outreach programs. We ate at a Turkish restaurant on the ground floor of an elegant apartment building overlooking the channel that runs through Kreuzberg. I sat between two Turkish Germans from very different backgrounds. Veyzal Ozcan. the Advisor on Migration and Integration to European MP Cem Ozdemir, was born in Germany, sported a long mane and scruffy facial hair, and claimed not to speak a word of Turkish. Ahmet Iyidirli of the German Social Democratic Party on the other hand was born in Turkey, spoke the language fluently, and donned the characteristic moustache. I suspect that there difference were generational, though I have heard concerns that the Turkish youth of today are less inclined to assimilate. In short, it was a stimulating lunch, and we walked away with greater knowledge of the Turkish community.
We left for the archives of the Stasi (the secret police of the former German Democratic Republic), which following the reunification of Germany opened to the public, particularly those who wish to learn about the files the Stasi accumulated on them. The Stasi was much feared, and pursued particularly invasive operations and employed millions of informants to collect sometimes mundane details on their acquaintances. We visited the copper room, which was designed to protect important records from radiation (in the event of a nuclear attack). We also learned about the tons of files that were shredded (and then torn once the machines wore-out) by the Stasi as they were bracing to open to the public. The archives are now researching methods to reassemble the pieces with the hope of learning even more about the Stasi's dark past.
And for the final official event of the day, we met with Dr. Anne Kaminsky, Executive Director of the Stuftung Aufarbeitung (a government funded foundation devoted to the examination of the Communist Dictatorship in the former East Germany). She discussed their program and scholarship, as well as their projects aimd at promoting reconciliation between East and West.
But the end of the day did not end there. We then raced (or rather I did, with the others from the L.A. group trailing behind) to the State Opera House on Unter de Linden. We arrived just in the nick of time for a performance of Tosca. The opera was a bit depressing -- everyone died. On the bright side, the vocal and orchestral talent, set-design, and opera house were all outstanding. The opera house was a bit smaller than anticipated, but created a more intimate setting to appreciate the performance. It provided the perfect finale to a long day, though the "fat lady" was noticably missing.
posted by Louchheim at 12:55 PM
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