The End

I've decided not to continue posting on this blog. Now that my glorious study abroad semester is truly over, I think it's time to move on. I still have a lot of opinions about European and German politics, but I'll save them for some other kind of medium so they don't ruin the non-political nature of my experience there. I had the best time of my life in Germany and I hope to go back as soon as possible. When I do, maybe I'll write on this blog again. Thanks for reading - I really have enjoyed writing for everyone and it's a bit sad to end it now. I'm going to try writing some more political articles for the Brandeis Hoot, an on-campus newspaper, so feel free to search for my articles online if you're not sick of my rants just yet. For the last time, tschüss!

What Next?

I've got a couple of posts in mind before I wrap this blog up. I think it's about time for it to be completed seeing as how I'm about to enter my senior year of college. As much as I hate to admit it, study abroad is really over now and it's probably time to move on. That being said, I have a few more things to write about before I retire. It's been a bit hard to find time to write recently (and the constant computer malfunctions don't help), but I'll have something soon about family values. All I'll say for now is that family values in the U.S. are NOT like family values elsewhere in Europe (take a guess which ones I prefer!). Bis dann!

Guilt

Something has been in the back of my mind for a long time. It’s the issue of studying in Germany. I’ve been thinking about it even more recently after finding an article about the World Cup in which the author wrote: “Talking about today’s World Cup match between Argentina and Germany, I heard myself saying, "Go, Germany," and flinched. For many people around the world, it is hard to ever really root for Germany. We may admire German cars and opera. We may acclaim German genius, from Goethe to Brecht to Richard von Weizsacker. But Germany is still known - and will always be known - as that nation that committed the crime which defines evil” (find the full article here).

I completely agree with the author’s sentiment. I had the time of my life in Germany, but it has always been a bit uncomfortable to admit how much I loved it, or that I even studied there at all. Despite the atrocities that so many countries, including the U.S., have committed, it seems as though Germany will always be the one country we instantly think of when we imagine the worst possible crimes against humanity. The sheer magnitude of the war and the Holocaust absolutely blows me away, and the more I learn about that period in Germany’s history, I wonder how it happened. Sure, we know many of the reasons, including Europe’s long historical trend of anti-Semitism, Hitler’s charisma, the humiliating terms of the Treaty of Versailles, the economic woes of Weimar Germany, an enormously effective propaganda machine, and so on, but I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that all those different factors made the people of a modern twenty-first century nation commit such terrible atrocities. It wasn’t just Hitler and the Nazis. It was Germans, and save for the brave individuals and groups that risked their lives to help Jews and other victims, it was an entire people engaged in a collective act that killed millions and destroyed Europe. I walked all over Freiburg last semester, passing all kinds of people around town, and every single time I saw an elderly German man or woman, I thought you were there. You saw what happened. I rarely talked to these people and never heard anything about their lives, but I always perceived these older Germans in a certain way, intrinsically connecting them to the crimes committed nearly 70 years ago. I talked to my friends about this and I was so surprised to learn that some of them felt the exact same way when they encountered older Germans on the street. It wasn’t just once in a while. It was EVERY time we saw them. We instinctively linked these people to the worst parts of Germany’s past, and to me, it seemed to reaffirm the idea that collective atrocities deserve collective guilt. I’m sure many of the men and women we passed were only children during the war, or maybe not even born yet, but in my mind, I can’t separate them from what all Germans did and the burden all Germans bear. I suppose that’s why I feel guilty for loving modern Germany and the Germans I met there so much. They are not Nazis, but the past creeps in because Germany will always be infamous and its crimes will always weigh on the minds of observers, tourists, and guests like me, and that makes it hard to fully support, admire, or be proud of Germany.

Even with that barrier, I find it easier to respect Germany than the United States when considering the dark stains on both nations’ pasts. Germany will forever have both World Wars and the Holocaust on its conscience, and the U.S. will forever have its treatment of Native Americans, slaves, African-Americans, and countless people we’ve exploited, tortured, or killed in the many countries we’ve overthrown, invaded, waged war in, or otherwise affected. The thing I respect about Germany is that it accepts full responsibility for the atrocities it has committed, particularly during the Holocaust. Germany has officially apologized many times over and has paid billions in reparations to Holocaust survivors as well as to Israel. No German leader shies away from it, and some, like Willy Brandt, have become known for their emotional public actions of remorse and repentance. German schoolchildren learn not only the facts about the Third Reich, Hitler, and the Holocaust, but also their country’s responsibility for those crimes. Major cities and towns in German have Holocaust memorial museums and monuments as well as Jewish museums, and some, including Freiburg, have gold Stolpersteine (“stumbling stones”) implanted in the pavement in front of houses to commemorate the individual victims who once lived there and were deported or murdered. They make you “stumble,” and by doing so, they intrude on the everyday lives of Germans who weren’t even alive during the war, making them acknowledge the victims, look at their former houses, and remember what happened. None of these measures can ever erase Germany’s haunting history, but I can at least respect the genuine efforts of a nation that wants to repair some of the damage that forever changed the lives of so many people.

Stolpersteine in Freiburg. Kurt Lindemann, represented on the stone in the middle, survived.

In comparison, the U.S. has absolutely failed at addressing its historical wrongs. It can barely apologize, let alone offer reparations, to any of the people to whom apologies are due. A Senate resolution introduced in 2004 to formally apologize to the Native Americans has never been adopted, while similar measures on the issue of slavery express “regret” and make it clear that no restitution claims will be considered. Frankly, these efforts are bullshit. Half-hearted and centuries-late resolutions to address our crimes do no justice to the tremendous hardship and suffering that the U.S. has wrought against others, and any schoolchild knows that regret is not the same as an apology. At least seven southern states recognize “Confederate History Month,” a fact which seems to be tacitly accepted by everyone else even when some states in question neglect to mention slavery. These recognitions supposedly honor the unique character and way of the South while conveniently ignoring the truly horrific institution of slavery and its enduring legacy. I wonder how the world would perceive Germany if it declared “Third Reich History Month” and chose to glorify the German way of life while pretending the Holocaust never happened. I’m sure the world would look on in horror. The state of Bavaria has the longest Nazi past, but if any politician there attempted to honor that history, Germany would absolutely not tolerate it. Germans would not tolerate it. Such hypothetical actions would be considered despicable, and in the U.S., they are despicable. Sure, I respect the rights of individual people to be ignorant racists, but states and the federal government ought apologize for our crimes and publicly denounce politicians who disagree instead of turning a blind eye to them. There is no justification for slavery, abuse of Native Americans, or invading other countries and killing their civilians, but unlike Germany, we refuse to accept our rightful guilt and responsibility. I would rather live with the so-called “white guilt” than live with the knowledge that my government just doesn’t consider it necessary to apologize to the former and present victims of our crimes. Many countries have dark periods in their histories, but we are no better off by sweeping ours under the rug. We would be a stronger and braver nation if we attempted to address our wrongs through formal words and actions, and like Germany, maybe we’d finally begin to bear our burden with dignity.

The Ultimate Letdown

As many of you already know, Germany lost the semifinal game against Spain in the World Cup today. I'm super disappointed (as are all my IES friends and flatmates). I really thought they were going to go all the way, but I guess I should've listened to the psychic octopus...my only small and selfish consolation is that at least I won't be missing a crazy Germany-just-won-the-World-Cup celebration in Freiburg.

Things are pretty busy around here right now, but I should have another political post in the near future. Stay tuned - bis dann!

Die Weltmeisterschaft und Patriotismus

I seem to have far less time than I thought I would this summer, but at least I've had the chance to watch a lot of the World Cup. I was rooting for Germany and the US and now just Germany. My friends back in Freiburg tell me that the whole city goes crazy every time Germany wins, and based on what I saw last semester, I totally believe it. Whenever SC Freiburg or Bayern Munich played last semester, it seemed like every student in town was watching the game at one of the hundreds of bars broadcasting it. This wasn't unique to Germany, of course - I'm sure the fans are even more rabid in England, Italy, Spain, or any of the other traditional powerhouses.

One night last spring, I went with some friends to a local Italian place that sold spaghetti bolognese for 1.80 Euros between 6:00 and 7:30 pm. It was one of our favorite little cheap places to eat, but it would always be super crowded as everyone tried to take advantage of the spaghetti deal. That night we were there, I asked a man sitting alone at a table if we could sit with him (which is a totally normal social practice there). I asked in German and he responded in a strange combination of French and German. We were all a bit bewildered, but he was nodding enthusiastically so we sat down anyway. He then went on to explain, in the same mixture of French and German, that he was French but was in town for a while. We were struggling a bit with the muddled language, so he asked us what he spoke and informed us that he spoke French, some German, and some Spanish. We answered English and his eyes lit up before he started chattering away and asking us about "Arsenal." We had no idea what he was talking about, but as soon as we realized he was pointing to his FC Barcelona jersey, we understood that he thought we were British and was asking us if we supported Arsenal, a major team in the English Premier League. We all started laughing and explaining that we spoke English, but were actually just Americans studying abroad in Germany. He then laughed and asked us where we were from, and when I said California, he immediately began listing all the Californian cities he knew. When he got to San Diego, he said, "Mais San Diego ist wirklich in Mexiko, ja?" Big laughs all around as I, my three friends, and our new dinner pal enjoyed some delicious and cheap spaghetti.

The point I'm trying to make in this long-winded reminiscence is that football brings Europeans (and the world) together regardless of language. It would have been so easy for us to politely ignore our table-mate and speak only in English to each other so he couldn't understand us, but instead, we figured out where we were all from, what we were all doing in Freiburg, why we liked this restaurant (1.80 Euro spaghetti, of course) and which teams we supported in a strange mixture of French, German, English, "sign language", and even a word or two of Spanish. We all enjoyed our dinner and our talks, even if we sometimes didn't understand all of it. It sometimes only takes finding a little common ground to strike up a conversation, and in Europe, football seems to be a pretty good starting place.

I'm writing about football here not only because I want Germany to win the World Cup (I'm wearing a pair of shorts with German colors on them as we speak), but because it relates to some of the other themes I encountered while abroad. I had to interview my flatmates for a project for German class, and most of the questions were about patriotism, or "Patriotismus." When I asked two of them if and when they were proud of Germany, they both independently said "only during the World Cup." Most of my classmates got very similar answers from their flatmates, leading me to wonder why Germans are so hesitant to be patriotic. The short answer? Germany can't be patriotic with flags, glorious songs, and declarations of allegiance after Hitler and World War II. German nationalism is associated with too many horrific memories of the Third Reich, both for Germans and the rest of the world that witnessed that awful period of history. The long answer has more to do with the nature of patriotism in general, and I would never claim to be an expert on it, but my time in Freiburg really made me think about German patriotism, or the lack thereof, compared with American-style patriotism. I'm saving it for another post, but as long as everyone's waving their flags at the World Cup, I thought I'd put out a little introduction now. I'm sure our dinner friend is rooting for Spain, although maybe it was his homeland of France, or his neighbor Germany, or the object of his admiration, England...

Bis spaeter!

One Month Later: The Things I Miss about Freiburg

The Least:

Dryers that never dried my clothes
Wearing clothes that didn't fit quite right after hang-drying all semester long
The badly designed laundry card system in my creepy-as-hell laundry room
No free water in restaurants
Paying for public restrooms
Germans' inability to form lines
Clothing stores that were generally too expensive
Customer service that was often very poor
Getting shot down while trying to speak German
Everything being closed on Sundays

The Most:

Being able to walk everywhere
Being able to bike EVERYWHERE
Great public transportation for lazy days
The eco-friendly lifestyle
The view of and proximity to the Schwarzwald
How beautiful the city was
Free entrance on students' nights at our favorite clubs
Bakeries on every street
Butterbrezeln
The national obsession with ice cream
The Münster and the Münstermarkt
Living the student life in a university town
Seepark
Paying with coins
Wurst for two euros
Fasnacht
The German language, both speaking it and getting utterly defeated by it
Historic architecture (even if it did have to be rebuilt after the war)
Rothaus beer
O'Kelly's Pub and Das Quiz
"Gehen wir in die Mensa?" "Ja, wir gehen immer in die Mensa!"
Proximity to France and Switzerland
My flatmates
My IES friends
Moments that started like this:

And ended like this:


Even a month later, I still can't believe it's over.

"Freedom"

"Chomsky shows us how phrases like "free speech", the "free market", and the "free world" have little, if anything, to do with freedom. He shows us that, among the myriad freedoms claimed by the U.S. government are the freedom to murder, annihilate, and dominate other people. The freedom to finance and sponsor despots and dictators across the world. The freedom to train, arm, and shelter terrorists. The freedom to topple democratically elected governments. The freedom to amass and use weapons of mass destruction — chemical, biological, and nuclear. The freedom to go to war against any country whose government it disagrees with. And, most terrible of all, the freedom to commit these crimes against humanity in the name of "justice", in the name of "righteousness", in the name of "freedom"." - Arundhati Roy

I posted this quote because I've been thinking a lot about the word 'freedom' ever since Germany. I had a couple of good conversations with my flatmate about the way the government and media in the United States can use words with positive connotations, such as freedom, democracy, and justice, as justification for basically anything. I had never really thought in-depth about how ludicrous it is to use those types of words to describe acts of war. Over the past nine years, we've seen the "leader of the free world" engage in acts such as Operation Enduring Freedom (originally named Operation Infinite Justice) and Operation Iraqi Freedom. Where exactly does freedom come into these operations? One could argue, as the United States does, that the mission is to secure freedom and democracy where it doesn't exist, but it is freedom if a foreign power stages an invasion and asserts control, and if so, for whom? If we support the idea of a free market and Iraq just so happens to have oil, what kind of freedom are we actually seeking?

I think the term has become a deceptively nasty way to mask the horrors of war. When American citizens are constantly reminded to support the troops who are "fighting for your freedom," it becomes much easier to justify unilateral military action, invasions, civilian deaths, weapons of mass destruction, and the deaths of the poor soldiers themselves. First, the government convinces us that we want this vague ideal of freedom; then, it convinces us that the best way to achieve it is by waging war against our enemies abroad and against our civil liberties at home. It just astounds me how Americans can accept legislation like the PATRIOT Act or show support for racial profiling in the name of freedom, even though they both directly infringe upon our constitutional rights. The government's motive for using those kinds of terms is obvious, of course - it's so much easier to drum up support for ANY policy as long as the voting public believes it is just, free, and American. The part I can't believe is how incredibly detached we have become from the true meanings of the words we throw around. It is completely commonplace to see people protest gay marriage, abortion rights, and the idea of a Muslim president while simultaneously supporting the Iraq War, the use of corporate money in elections, and Arizona's draconian anti-immigrant laws, all in the name of freedom. That kind of "freedom" means nothing to me, and my conversations with my flatmate showed me how it often means nothing to the rest of the world either.

The mere fact that I can write this demonstrates some degree of real freedom, of course. My phone is probably not going to get wiretapped and I highly doubt I'll ever be brought in for questioning by the authorities. What's more likely, though, is that some people will accuse me of being "un-American" or that this blog will be used against me by an opponent if I ever run for office. Maybe that's the part that baffles me the most. If freedom is our country's ultimate ideal and the only thing I'm trying to do is promote REAL freedom, then why do people with similar views as me get vilified in the news or denounced as radicals? What's radical about protesting the government and media's misuse of a term that could mean so much, but has come to mean so little? I view dissent and debate as absolutely crucial in any effective civil society, and I think we come closer to true freedom when no one's views immediately get marked as anti-freedom or "anti-American." That phrase means even less to me than freedom does (although I suppose it means something to people like Rand Paul or Bill O'Reilly). There is nothing inherently American about the overarching concept of freedom, and I think the commonly accepted American version actually damages what the word is supposed to mean.

As a debater, I've encountered many cases about free speech and other civil liberties. One argument in particular often comes up, saying that no matter how vile, repulsive, or ridiculous a citizen's views might be, he or she should have a near-absolute legal right to express them. This allows people to march with the KKK or join the Westboro Baptist Church or believe that gay marriage is immoral. I agree with this argument completely, but not because I think the KKK has any worthy ideas. I agree because I think that dissent and debate will reveal and eventually eliminate the worst ideas and beliefs in society. Government doesn't need to intervene and it shouldn't have the right to do so. Blind acceptance of the word freedom or unfounded criticism of different political beliefs makes it easy to ridicule dissenters without actually thinking about what they have to say. This keeps bad ideas in circulation while preventing new ideas, whether good or bad, from entering the competition at all. That, I think, is dangerous for any society that gains its power from the people and their convictions.

All I want is for American citizens to truly think about the actions of our government without using the labels that have been pre-determined for us, making it possible to determine the validity of ideas, policies, and goals from a more neutral standpoint. This would, of course, be near-impossible with the strength of the mass media and our appetite for information. We certainly have to learn about policies somewhere, and nearly any source is going to have some degree of bias. I think we would at least be better off if we began to question the word freedom, which we hear so often without really hearing at all. Once we do that, I think we might come closer to recovering its true meaning, making it worthy of not only our respect, but the respect of the rest of the world.