IN THE SHADOW: REPRESENTATIONS OF THE STASI IN LITERATURE AND FILM FROM COLD WAR TO PRESENT

Everett T. King

A Thesis

Submitted to the Graduate College of Bowling Green State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of

MASTER OF ARTS

May 2021

Committee:

Douglas Forsyth, Advisor

Kristie Foell

© 2021

Everett T. King

All Rights Reserved iii

ABSTRACT

Douglas Forsyth, Advisor

The East German Stasi stood among the most effective secret police forces in modern

history, creating a surveillance apparatus that invaded all levels of society and affected many

thousands of people, from ordinary citizens to the highest levels of the West German

government. Artists and writers have long been preoccupied with the Stasi and have featured the

organization in their productions since even the peak of the Cold War. Cultural productions like

literature and film often serve as valuable “windows” into historical societies and the minds of

those who dwelled therein, shedding light on values and norms that existed at the time, as well as

the conditions that surrounded the publication of said productions.

This study examines the portrayal of the Stasi in literature and film, starting during the

Cold War in East German literature, moving to immediately after reunification, and ending in the

twenty-first century. Specifically, it studies the general “character” of the organization as portrayed by various artists, and how these portrayals developed over time. This study draws on both history and German Studies as subjects, featuring intensive literature analysis and partial analysis of surveillance files, along with reference to a broad body of secondary research. This study shows that as time has passed, the portrayal of the Stasi in various media has become more nuanced and fact focused, owing to the increased amount of available information on the organization. Initially the organization is seen as a force of nature, with emphasis placed upon its mystery and influence. As time progressed, artists rejected the power of the Stasi by portraying them as human and fallible, occasionally as comedically incompetent. iv

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to first thank my family for their unwavering support throughout the writing process. Thanks to my graduate colleagues: Robyn Perry, for her advice in formatting, and Kyle

Rable, for acting as a third unofficial reader. I would like to sincerely thank my committee members, Dr. Douglas Forsyth and Dr. Kristie Foell, for their instrumental help in shaping this project and directing my research, as well as reading and offering editing suggestions. Special thanks to Dr. Christina Guenther, for her early help in defining a research area as well as her support throughout my time as a graduate student, as well as Dr. David Wildermuth, for helping me to foster my passion for German history and culture as an undergraduate at Shippensburg

University. Finally, thank you to both of my graduate coordinators, Dr. Edgar Landgraf in

German Studies and Dr. Benjamin Greene in History, for helping to keep me on track during the writing process. v

TABLE OF CONTENTS Page

INTRODUCTION ...... 1

Historiography ...... 5

CHAPTER 1: THE STASI AND GDR LITERATURE PRE-WENDE ...... 9

The Stasi’s Influence in GDR Literature ...... 9

Ausbürgerung of Wolf Biermann ...... 13

Stasi actions against Biermann ...... 16

Biermann’s portrayal of the Stasi in Die Stasi-Ballade ...... 19

State Censorship in Monika Maron’s Flugasche ...... 21

Censorship culture in Flugasche ...... 24

Portrayal of Stasi Surveillance in Christa Wolf’s Was bleibt ...... 29

Depiction of the Stasi in Was bleibt ...... 31

Conclusions ...... 35

CHAPTER 2: THE STASI AND GERMAN LITERATURE POST-WENDE ...... 37

The Success of the Revolution and the Failure of the Stasi ...... 37

The Literature Scene after the Wende ...... 39

The Stasi in Literature: post-Wende Developments...... 42

The File and Journalistic Discovery ...... 43

State Surveillance and Memory in “Ich” ...... 48 vi

Incompetence and Mundanity in Helden wie wir ...... 53

Conclusions ...... 60

CHAPTER 3: THE LEGACY OF THE STASI IN THE 21ST CENTURY ...... 62

Gregor Gysi and the Issue with Prosecution ...... 62

The Stasi and Popular Culture in the 21st Century ...... 66

The Firsthand Accounts of Stasiland ...... 67

The Divided Reception of Das Leben der Anderen ...... 74

Story and themes ...... 74

Reception among scholars and eyewitnesses ...... 81

Conclusions ...... 84

CONCLUSION ...... 86

BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 91 1

INTRODUCTION In late 1967, GDR (German Democratic Republic) cement worker Wolfgang Stieber contacted a refugee living in West Germany and shared his own plan of escape. Stieber was soon to be drafted into the National People’s Army but did not want to serve the country, and therefore planned to flee to the west. This letter was intercepted by East Germany’s Ministerium

für Staatssicherheit (Ministry of State Security), which is often derisively shortened to “Stasi.”

Within seven months, the Stasi had initiated a full investigation against Stieber, collecting all his

personal information including his address, job, family, and personal history. His acquaintances

and colleagues were consulted, and opinions about him given. Wolfgang Stieber was now a full

“hostile negative” in the GDR. He was arrested July 16, 1968 and had his residence fully searched. He was sentenced to one year imprisonment.1

The story of Wolfgang Stieber, drawn from the Stasi’s surveillance files against him, is

just one of countless more that were harassed and persecuted by the Ministry during its forty-

year existence. The Stasi was a secret police force founded in 1950 with the goal of securing the

fledgling GDR during a time of great unrest, rife with increasing incidents of bombings and

political attacks.2 As the state progressed, so too did the Stasi, eventually numbering among the

largest and most powerful secret police forces of its kind. The Stasi was unique because of the

enormous power and influence that it wielded within the state, as well as its deep level of

intrusion into the personal lives of GDR citizens. Compared to the Gestapo, for example, the

1 In the clutches of the NKVD and the Stasi- behind the wall of shame and barbed wire: A Documentation: documentary evidence taken from NKVD/Stasi files with many photographs, ed. Gustav Rust, tr. Ro-Ho Enterprises (Bamberg: Difo-Druck, 1999) pp. 267-270 2 Jens Gieseke, The History of the Stasi: East Germany’s Secret Police, 1945-1990, tr. David Burnett (New York: Berghahn Books, 2014) pp. 25 2

Stasi employed hundreds of thousands more paid labor by 1989 and was 9,000 percent larger

than its equivalent organization in present-day, unified Germany.3

Mary Fulbrook characterized the GDR as a country that fundamentally hated its citizens,

and where hate exists, so too does fear.4 The goal of the Stasi was to protect the state against its

own civilians, acting on constant suspicion borne of paranoia. Historian Gary Bruce states that

the Stasi occasionally arranged the murder of those in opposition to the GDR, ruled by the

Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands (Socialist Unity Party), or SED for short. However,

this was not the norm. The MO of the Stasi usually involved more delicate and sophisticated

means, such as extensive surveillance and behind-the-scenes maneuvering, disruption of the

personal lives of opponents using psychological methods, extensive blackmail, and coercion;

methods that became known as “Zerzetzungsmaßnahmen.”5 This was usually accomplished with

the Stasi’s personal army of “Inofizielle Mitarbeiter (unofficial informants)” or IMs.

Historian Jens Gieseke explains the IM was an individual outside of the ministry

framework that had been coerced into signing a written agreement with the ministry “to work for

it conspiratorially, i.e., in a covert and secret manner.”6 IMs were expected to feed the Stasi

information, sometimes on strangers and sometimes even on their own friends and family. The

IM network ballooned to incredible proportions by the end of the GDR in 1990. Conservative

estimates place the number at 170,000 individuals, but there could easily have been tens of

thousands more that were not written into files.7

3 Gary Bruce, The Firm: The Inside Story of the Stasi (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010) pp. 10 4 Mary Fulbrook, Anatomy of a Dictatorship: Inside the GDR, 1949-1989, Kindle eBook edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995) ch. 2: “Structures and Mentalities of Power”, subheading “Mentalities of power: paternalism and paranoia 5 Bruce, pp. 2 6 Gieseke, pp. 91 7 Gieseke, pp. 92 3

The result of this exercise of power was a populace that lived in a near constant state of

fear and suspicion. In particular, artists and intellectuals found themselves in a unique position in

GDR society. The GDR, like other communist nations, employed the arts as a sort of socialistic

propaganda. While artists were loved for their ability to extoll the virtues of communism and

culturally empower the state, they were simultaneously deeply mistrusted for their ability to

spread subversive ideas among the populace. As a result of this dichotomy, artists and

intellectuals were often the objects of more stringent espionage than average citizens.

The views and opinions of artists, whether they were authors or filmmakers, often find their way into their works in especially trying times. For that reason, these works can be a unique indication of the feelings that people of a certain milieu held at the time. Our ability to infer the thoughts and feelings of people in the past often depends on cultural productions like literature and film to act as gateways of sorts. This idea rings true for the people who lived in the grip of the GDR and the Stasi. The Stasi have appeared in literature since the days of the GDR, though it has taken multiple forms in doing so. It appeared in film beginning in the 1990s. The representations of the organization in these works of art evolved as time passed, which leads to the topic of this study.

This thesis studies the depiction of the Stasi in works of art, both written and filmed, in three distinct time periods: during the lifetime of the GDR in the years 1945-1990, post-Wende throughout the 1990s, and finally in the twenty-first century.8 This study endeavors to uncover the evolution of characterizations of the Stasi in literature and film through time and understand what forces unique to the time period might have informed these characterizations. This will aid

8 The term Wende is used to refer to the general process of reunification in the years 1989-1990 4 in the understanding of life under the Stasi and the ways in which it affected the personal lives of the populace. This work has interdisciplinary value between both history and German studies. It aids in knowledge of the Stasi and its actions, targets, goals, and purpose as well as uncovering the feelings and motivations of German artists and what motivated them at the time, as well as how their understanding of the Stasi informed their works.

This study is driven by three primary research questions: How did portrayal of the Stasi change over time? What caused artists to portray the Stasi as they did? What are the major issues surrounding the Stasi in each period under study? In answering these questions, the methodology is varied in this study. This is largely a work of cultural history, including such cultural documents as novels and films. Indeed, the majority of primary sources are novels from the time periods involved in the project. In this way, this project also follows an interdisciplinary approach with German studies, as the analysis of German novels falls heavily under that purview. The heavy usage of literature also places this work in a New Historicist approach.

This paper argues that the depiction of the Stasi in literature and film gradually grew more detailed and nuanced as time progressed, but attitudes toward the organization remained largely negative among those that produced these works of art. It also became more acceptable as time progressed to feature the Stasi in more central roles in fictional stories. The argument for this project is largely broken down chapter by chapter, as the findings regarding pertinent themes and patterns are particular to each era.

The first chapter, “The Stasi and GDR Literature pre-Wende,” studies the actions of the

Stasi during the lifetime of the GDR, including its infiltration of the Prenzlauer Berg literary subculture. The works that are studied in this chapter are Wolf Biermann’s Stasi Ballade,

Monika Maron’s Flugasche, and Christa Wolf’s Was bleibt. Chapter two, “The Stasi and 5

Literature Post-Wende,” studies the issues the Stasi left behind directly after reunification,

namely, the revelation of Stasi files and with them the identities of former IMs. The works in this

chapter are Timothy Garton Ash’s The File, Wolfgang Hilbig’s “Ich,” and Thomas Brussig’s

Helden wie wir. Chapter three, “The Legacy of the Stasi in the 21st Century,” studies how the

Stasi still affect society in the 21st century, including such things as prosecution and ex-IM politicians. The works in this chapter are Anna Funder’s Stasiland and the film Das Leben der

Anderen, directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck.

Historiography

The Stasi has naturally been well researched since the fall of the Soviet Union, more so in

German-language historical works than English. The historiography on the Stasi in popular

literature, however, is much lighter. There are only a handful of works that deal directly with the

subject, and in different ways than this project. Previous works tend to focus on the psychology

of the IM as portrayed in various novels. German Studies scholar Annie Ring’s After the Stasi:

Collaboration and the Struggle for Subjectivity in the Writing of German Unification studies

GDR writers that interacted with the Stasi in some way, both as informant and victim. Her thesis

is best articulated in her own words

(…) what many of these works have in common is the presence of core characters

who cannot be categorized or defined. Nor do they make up self-defined,

sovereign subjects in their own right. Instead, they are subject to the power of

others, and even to other powers within themselves, in ways that both enable and

complicate the collaborations they carry out.9

9 Annie Ring, After the Stasi: Collaboration and the Struggle for Subject Sovereignty in the Writing of German Unification (Bloomsbury Publishing inc., 2015) pp. 2 6

Ring’s book focuses primarily on books after the Wende, and primarily acts as a

philosophical treatment on the phenomenon of working as an IM. This project

differentiates in the inclusion of books from outside the post-Wende period.

Indispensable to any study of literature in the Wende period are the works of scholar

Stephen Brockmann. Brockmann has written extensively on the subject, but little on the Stasi in

particular. Literature and German Unification, written by Brockmann, is a seminal study of

reunification and its effect on German literature, one of the first of its kind. Brockmann dedicates

a chapter of this book to the Stasi in reunification era literature. In this chapter, Brockmann

produces a number of ideas about how the Stasi featured in literature. These included how

authors worked with the Stasi, how the Stasi functioned as a communication medium, and the

interplay of guilt in the loss of identity.10

Other works appear in shorter form articles, several of which can be found in German

Writers and the Politics of Culture: Dealing with the Stasi by Paul Cooke and Andrew Plowman.

This work is a collection of essays from various authors about specific GDR authors or books

that dealt with the Stasi. One in particular, “‘Bekentnisse des Stasi-Hochstaplers Klaus

Uhltzscht‘: Thomas Brussig’s Comical and Controversial Helden wie wir“ by Kristie Foell and

Jill Twark, studies “the specific social function that pairing Stasi topos with sexual perversity

and megalomania fulfills within post-unification Germany.”11 This study sets itself apart from

those inside this collection in the fact that it includes the examination of a diverse collection of

different novels.

10 Stephen Brockmann, Literature and German Reunification (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) pp. 101 11 Kristie Foell and Jill Twark, “‘Bekentnisse des Stasi-Hochstaplers Klaus Uhltzscht‘: Thomas Brussig’s Comical and Controversial Helden wie wir“ in German Writers and the Politics of Culture: Dealing with the Stasi, ed. Paul Cooke and Andrew Plowman (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003) pp. 174 7

Historical studies of the Stasi are a little more common, though, again, German language works are more common. Of books originally in German, Jens Gieseke’s Die Geschichte der

Stasi is among the best known. This represents one of the first systematic studies of the Stasi.

Gieseke is the sort of “go to” historian for matters of the Stasi. The aforementioned book is written as a general reference work, and therefore doesn’t contain much argumentation.

Of works in English, one that is particularly well regarded is Gary Bruce’s The Firm.

Bruce centers his argument around the small districts the book focuses on. He aimed to use them to “(…) offer a sense of the integration of the state into society, of the tendrils of the regime’s repression apparatus even in small town East Germany, the power the Stasi was granted within governmental structures to carry out its mission, and the manner by which Germans internalized the Stasi presence.”12The final point is one that he emphasizes more than once. Bruce argues that though many East Germans carry fond memories of living in the GDR, some even wishing to go back to the way things were (popularly called Ostalgie), the regime was anything but normal or benign. The people of the GDR simply learned to live with the surveillance that they likely knew was happening all around them. The Stasi essentially became a simple fact of life.13

Historian Edward N. Peterson argues that the Stasi were partially complicit in the peaceful revolution that brought down the GDR. He states that the Stasi long held misgivings about the way GDR society was run, and actively sympathized with the people that they were supposed to be combating in 1989. This was gleaned from wording within the Stasi’s files from that time. He sets this against the backdrop of religious protest and subversion, and argues that

12 Gary Bruce, The Firm: The Inside Story of the Stasi (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010) pp. 12 13 Bruce, pp. 9 8

the Stasi’s failure to contain the revolution was due to the aforementioned sympathy with the

enemy.14

This thesis is especially unique among the previously mentioned works because of the

chronological nature of study. It will chart reactions by time, rather than focus on only one. Most

of the recognized work in this subject has been performed primarily on reunification literature,

but this thesis will also include works that come out well after the fact. Also unique is that this

thesis will specifically study the ways the Stasi were portrayed by authors, meaning their actions

and purpose, rather than the ways that Stasi actions affected the writings of these authors. It adds

to a relatively sparse historiography, especially for works written in English. The chronological

nature of the study will aid in chronicling changes that occurred over time, and gives an

opportunity to include a more diverse set of literature to study. Also, there are virtually no

existing studies that gather multiple 21st century cultural productions involving the Stasi together

inside one project.

14 Edward Peterson, The Secret Police and the Revolution: The Fall of the German Democratic Republic (Westport: Praeger, 2002) pp. 174-175 9

CHAPTER 1: THE STASI AND GDR LITERATURE PRE-WENDE

The Stasi’s Influence in GDR Literature

To begin any study into the literature scene of the GDR, one must necessarily acquaint

oneself with the purpose of literature in the GDR. This purpose paints many of the actions taken

by authors during this era, as well as the Stasi, who either targeted them or worked with them.

The GDR, though an independent state on paper, was in reality a satellite state of the Soviet

Union.15 Indeed, the Soviet Union was the basis for many of the norms and cultural regulations

that emerged in the GDR throughout its existence, including those in literary and artistic circles.

A crucial difference to be mindful of is that in reasonably “free” societies, the arts are almost

always a totally separate sphere from politics. In communistic regimes like the GDR or Soviet

Union, however, this is not the case. As far back as the ideals of Vladimir Lenin, literature was

intended to be a part of politics.16

The Kulturbund zur demokratischen erneuerung Deutschlands (Cultural association for

the democratic renewal of Germany) was founded in occupied East Germany in 1945. Despite

the stated goal of artistic independence from political parties, many members of the Kulturbund

were also members of the communist party, and consequently used the group to disseminate

propaganda and ideology.17With the creation of the dominant Socialist Unity Party (SED), it

became obvious that literature and the Kulturbund would be used for political purposes. Some of

the various unifying goals of this literature were as follows:

15 Mary Fulbrook, Anatomy of a Dictatorship: Inside the GDR, 1949-1989, Kindle eBook edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995) Ch. 1: “Interpreting the East German Dictatorship,” subheading: “The contested history of the GDR” 16 George Buehler, The Death of Socialist Realism in the Novels of Christa Wolf (Frankfurt: Verlag Peter Lang, 1984) pp. 8 17 Buehler, pp. 3 10

1. An absolute renunciation of the past, a method of “regenerating” the German psyche.

2. The past further referred to as “capitalist brutality,” which would strengthen popular

belief in communist ideals.

3. The heroic struggle and sacrifice of the Soviet (and by extension, GDR) people as a

centerpiece of all literature.18

Sites of antifascist memory were popular settings in GDR literature, and common people such as workers or farmers were popular characters. Such characteristics were in line with the worldview of the communist SED. It was always intended that GDR literature would be homogenous; a unified front.19 According to George Buehler, “the arts ‘served’ the government by explaining, defending and rallying public support for governmental policies.”20Literature would depict the gradual emergence of a sort of utopian communist new order from the ashes of past wars and conflict, instilling a sense of pride in the accomplishments of the workers. This style of writing would come to be known as “socialist realism.”21

Writers were imagined by the SED to be educators of the people. They were expected to keep their writing optimistic, pro-communist, accessible, and with a goal of activism to champion the communist cause. Critically, membership to the Writers Union was also predicated upon these things. If an author wished to live a comfortable life, they would therefore ascribe to socialist realism. Comfortable is an apt description for the benefits of toeing the line, as writers could receive generous governmental grants, royalties, and opportunities to present to the public.

18 Buehler, pp. 6 19 Wolfgang Emmerich, “The GDR and Its Literature: An Overview” in Rereading East Germany: The Literature and Film of the GDR, ed. Karen Leeder (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016) 20 Buehler, pp. 8 21 Buehler, pp. 8-9 11

Those who did not were subject to censorship.22 Authors would often, therefore, resort to self-

censorship and employ a highly selective choice of words to avoid problems. Wolfgang

Emmerich argues that “from the early days and increasingly over time, it bore the tell-tale signs

of self-censorship or camouflage, that is, writing in the language of slaves (Sklavensprache).”23

The Stasi was largely responsible for maintaining the status quo in the literary scene,

especially in the 1960s and 70s. Jens Gieseke argues that the Stasi operated as a sort of “ersatz

public sphere” through its extensive information gathering.24 The Stasi was used largely to

follow the moods and feelings of those involved in the literary subculture, in order to stay aware

of potential issues.25The Stasi also used this “ersatz public sphere” to identify authors that could

be subject to censorship.

Department seven of the Main Department of the Stasi was responsible for keeping an eye on

the cultural scene of the GDR. According to historian Mike Dennis, “Mielke and his Stasi

colleagues regarded many of the GDR’s writers as Trojan horses of ‘counterrevolution’, fearing

that the enemies of the GDR might persuade the writers that socialism could be made ‘more

humane’ by open criticism and by the formation of an internal opposition.”26The methods that

the Stasi employed were similar in nature to those it used in all other aspects of East German

society: the usage of IMs to inform and influence.27 By 1989, for example, nearly half of the senior leadership in the Writers Union were Stasi IMs. Hermann Kant, president of the Writers

22 Emmerich, “The GDR and Its Literature” 23 Ibid 24 The word “ersatz” here denotes a sort of “false” public sphere; something created by the Stasi but nevertheless functional. 25 Jens Gieseke, The History of the Stasi, East Germany’s Secret Police, 1945-1990, tr. David Burnett (New York: Berghahn Books, 2014) pp. 121 26 Mike Dennis, The Stasi: Myth and Reality (New York: Taylor and Francis, 2003) pp. 116 27 As a reminder, “IM” stands for Inoffizielle Mitarbeiter, or unofficial informants recruited from all levels of the civilian population. 12

Union from 1978 to 1990, was also a Stasi IM. Other such informers included editors of

influential literary magazines and several prominent East German authors, including Monika

Maron and Christa Wolf, who will be expounded upon in detail later in this chapter.28

The Stasi was able to promote its IMs to high levels of influence in the literary scene, as in the case of Sascha Anderson and Rainer Schedlinski.29Anderson, for example, worked as an IM for twenty years while simultaneously helping to develop the entire Prenzlauer Berg literary movement. Anderson was groomed by the Stasi for this specific role. Starting in the 1980s, he made contact with various artistic subcultures in East Berlin, and worked towards depoliticizing the arts (or, rather, politicizing them to the “correct” ends.) He eventually moved to West Berlin and influenced the movement there too, still under the direction of the Stasi.30Anderson’s written

IM reports provide a wealth of detail into the entire movement, as well as the mindsets of

younger writers that were just entering the scene. There is evidence that the reports of both

Anderson and Schedlinski provided potentially incriminating evidence on their acquaintances.31

David Bathrick states “Convincing Schedlinski and Anderson that as informers they themselves

were using the Stasi for their own purposes was one of the means this organization employed to

keep the upper hand.”32Further motivations for IMs were nebulous and often difficult to discern

clearly.

The ensuing sections will describe the actions of three distinct figures in the literary and

larger arts community, and how they interacted with and portrayed the Stasi in one of their

28 Dennis, pp. 117 29 Gieseke, pp. 125 30 Dennis, pp. 117 31 David Bathrick, The Powers of Speech: The Politics of Culture in the GDR (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1995) pp. 222 32 Bathrick, pp. 223 13 works. During this time, direct references to government entities were usually scarce in writing, especially the Stasi. Because of this, in the case the Stasi are not directly referenced by the author, the way the author portrays the effects of the Stasi, especially the culture of censorship they cultivated, will be examined instead.

These are artists are Wolf Biermann, Monika Maron, and Christa Wolf. As previously stated, the Stasi approached members of the subculture from all backgrounds, often people who could potentially cause trouble. These three artists can be split roughly into two groups: those who complied and those who did not. The first artist that will be discussed, Wolf Biermann, is the only of the three who did not work with the Stasi in any capacity, for which he paid a heavy price. Biermann can serve as a prime example of the power of the Stasi over the artistic sphere, and the extent of its reach into the personal affairs of the GDR public.

Ausbürgerung of Wolf Biermann

Wolf Biermann was best known as a singer/songwriter and playwright active in the GDR, but largely only published in the west. He wrote a number of songs and poems strongly critical of the SED and did not shy away from this criticism in interviews as well. The case of Wolf

Biermann is interesting for a number of reasons. First, his interactions with the Stasi not only affected him, but the entire cultural scene of the GDR. The repercussions of the actions of the

Stasi in this case lasted until the very end of the GDR in general. Secondly, despite his critical songs, prose, and poetry, Wolf Biermann was an ardent communist, and remained outspokenly so throughout his long period of repression from the Stasi. Biermann’s criticisms were largely aimed at the SED as an organization, and not communism as a whole. Biermann stated in a

January 1977 interview: 14

(…) we all have to learn that there are communists with different approaches to

different problems and that we have to put this into practice. It’s not necessary to

see the class enemy as the cause of these differences or to search for the intrigues

of class enemies, rather we must understand that these different positions are

expressions of different sides of the revolutionary struggle.33

Born in Hamburg, Biermann relocated to East Berlin at the age of 17. Biermann states that he moved to the GDR with the express intention of immersing himself in communism. “Ich wusste nur, dass ich den Kommunismus aufbauen sollte und die Menschheit retten (I only know that I should build up communism and save mankind.)”34 It was in Gymnasium that Biermann

claimed he had his first run in with the Stasi. An agent called him in for an interview and accused

him of being “ein Agent unserer Klassenfeinde (agent of our class enemy).”35 The Stasi agent

used this baseless accusation to blackmail him into becoming an informer. Biermann violently

refuses this and is forced to sign a document swearing him to secrecy about the meeting.

Interestingly, Biermann admits that if the agent simply spoke honestly with him and made the

same offer in good faith, he might have taken it.36

Biermann chose to attend Humboldt University shortly thereafter. He intially studied

economics, and found his way to the Berliner Ensemble, which he describes as “(…) der

Drehpunkt meines Lebens (the pivoting point of my life).”37He began to garner recognition from

33 Jack Zipes, Wolf Biermann, and Thomas Hoernigk, "Two Interviews with Wolf Biermann," New German Critique 10, no. 10 (1977) pp. 14 34 Wolf Biermann, Warte nicht auf bessere Zeiten! Die Autobiographie (Berlin: Ullstein Buchverlage GmbH, 2016) pp. 72. Any time that I include a translation of a German quote in this work, it represents my own translation and not a published one. 35 Biermann, pp. 67. The veracity of this story cannot be confirmed. Biermann has a love for the theatrical, but it is nonetheless likely that the Stasi approached him at some point in his life, given his excellent record as a young communist. 36 Biermann, pp. 71 37 Biermann, pp. 73 15

his pro-GDR ballads, which also placed in the good graces of the party. The government,

according to author G. Ann Stamp Miller, especially supported his criticisms of America and the

Vietnam War.38

The building of the wall provided Biermann with his first doubts about the SED,

considering it a failure of the state to contain western ideas. He still largely supported the party in

its efforts, however, believing the wall was simultaneously a chance to start over.39 Biermann

soon thereafter formed the theater group Berliner Arbeiter- und Studententheater (Berlin

Workers and Students Theater), located in Prenzlauer Berg. He initially had enthusiastic support

from the university, receiving some funding from the administrative director. 40 It was his writing

of a play about the wall, named Berliner Brautgang, that provided him his first brush against

GDR cultural politics and, by extension, the Stasi.41

Biermann notes that the play was partially critical of the SED’s decision making, but not

in a way that he expected to be any kind of problem. Party functionary Dr. Scherner discovered

“(…) politische Fehler und ästhetische Schwachstellen, Stilbruch und Parteifeindlichkeit,

konterrevolutionäre Tendenzen und dekadente Dummheiten (political mistakes and asthetic weak

points, inconsistency of style and party hostility, counterrevolutionary tendencies and decadent

stupidities.)”42Biermann attempted to placate the party by editing various editions of the play to their liking, simultaneously weakening it and taking away most of its artistic value. Despite these efforts, the damage was done. The play was not allowed to run, considered “politisch unreif

38 G. Ann Stamp Miller, The Cultural Politics of the German Democratic Republic: The Voices of Wolf Biermann, Christa Wolf, and Heiner Müller (Irvine: Brown Walker Press, 1999) pp. 72 39 Biermann, pp. 90 40 Biermann, pp. 108 41 Miller, pp. 72 42 Biermann, pp. 111 16

(politically immature.)”43The closure of the play was not the end, however, as the Berliner

Arbeiter- und Studenttheater was closed in its entirety shortly thereafter. Miller notes that GDR authorities were unwilling to allow any examination of the wall, even that which could be considered positive.44

Stasi actions against Biermann

What follows are the various actions the Stasi took against Biermann, ultimately leading to the infamous Ausbürgerung (expatriation). The first aspect of this repression that should be noted is the status of Biermann in East German society. After the closing of the theater,

Biermann began to compose poetry and songs that were overtly critical of the SED. These were published in West Germany, and it was through the west that he gained considerable fame in

both Germanys.45The Stasi was therefore faced with a challenge in dealing with Biermann. His fame made it risky to take overt actions, for fear of international criticism that could weaken the

GDR’s already weak standing. They would have to act more subtly. To that end, in 1965 it developed a 20 point plan to discredit him in the eyes of the public.46

The Stasi’s first action was simple, a Berufsverbot (professional ban). This meant that

Biermann was unable to have anything that he produced published in the GDR, necessitating the

aforementioned publishing in the west. 47Biermann soon discovered that his blacklisting affected

others that he interacted with as well. Director Frank Beyer received strong national attention for

the making of his film Spur der Steine, which was an early favorite for various awards. Beyer

43 Biermann, pp. 112 44 Miller, pp. 73 45 Melvin J. Lasky, Voices in a Revolution: The Collapse of East German Communism (New York: Taylor and Francis, 1992) pp. 36 46 Dirk von Nayhauss, “Heimatkunde,“ Cicero Magazin für politische Kultur, Nov. 2006 47 Lasky, pp. 3. 17

asked Biermann to compose a song for the film, and almost immediately was requested to

remove it from the final cut. Although he did so, the film was ultimately banned entirely

anyway.48 At the event this film would have premiered in, a political fight broke out in the

theater. Biermann left immediately, but still found himself blamed in the press for the chaos.

Biermann notes that it is probable this was all staged to discredit him.49

Along with the professional ban, Biermann was also not permitted to join the SED as a

member as early as 1963. This was before any of his overt criticism, stemming simply from the

incident with the play and theater. Along with the denial of party membership, Biermann was

also not permitted to graduate from Humboldt and earn a degree.50This demonstrates the power of the Stasi to shut down one’s public life entirely, using their myriad connections. Biermann was banned from attending official events, such as literature readings and concerts. Even with a special permission card, like he received for the premier, he was still subject to disruptive questioning and unwelcome attention.51

The Stasi employed some of its classic techniques against Biermann as well, including

physical surveillance and intelligence gathering from IMs. Biermann states “Hinter jedem

Strauch ein Strauchdieb der Stasi, hinter jeder Ecke ein Mörder der Firma Mielke, hinter jedem

Freund ein Feind (Behind every shrub a shrub thief of the Stasi, behind every corner a murderer

of Mielke’s Firm, behind every friend an enemy.)“52Biermann, it would turn out, was right to

mistrust his friends. When reviewing his Stasi file, he discovered the codenames of some seventy

IMs assigned to his case, and two hundred assigned to his Zentralen Operativen Vorgang

48 Biermann, pp. 194 49 Biermann, pp. 196 50 Biermann, pp. 113 51 Biermann, pg. 188 52 Biermann, pg. 201 18

(central operational process.) Most of these were people that he had met at some point, whether

professionally or just on the street.53Biermann was also the subject of intensive surveillance, including bugs in his residence and Stasi agents tailing his every move.54

The Stasi’s persecution of Biermann came to a head in 1976, when he was officially

expatriated as a citizen of the GDR. He was given permission to perform in the west, during

which his citizenship was quietly revoked on November 16th, preventing him from returning

home.55 Biermann received no notice from the party themselves, rather he first learned of it over

the news.56The ramifications of this action for the SED appeared almost immediately with the

drafting of a protest letter from a dozen prominent East German authors, including Christa and

Gerhard Wolf. Most of these authors held high positions within the Writers Union. More than a

hundred artists supported the protest upon its publication. Christa Wolf lost her party

membership for supporting Biermann. In the ensuing months, many intellectuals began to leave

the GDR for the west, contributing to a further “brain drain.”57Those who stayed found themselves increasingly under the thumb of the Stasi, facing increased surveillance and censorship, including a ban on protest gatherings and restrictions of contact with western journalists. The Stasi even directly arrested such people as Robert Havemann (a close friend of

Biermann), Jürgen Fuchs, Gerulf Pannach, and Christian Kunert.58From that point on, the artistic scene found less freedom to operate than ever before.

53 Biermann, pp. 202 54 Biermann, pp. 203 55 By all accounts, Biermann’s critique of the GDR during this performance in the west was mild by his usual standards. 56 Miller, pp. 82 57 Miller, pp. 85 58 Miller, pp. 94. Havemann was a scientist, the other three were well-known artists. 19

Biermann’s portrayal of the Stasi in Die Stasi-Ballade

One work of Biermann’s that seems to sum up his feelings about the Stasi is his 1974 song Die Stasi-Ballade. Within, he describes some of the actions of the Stasi against him and what they ultimately amounted to, as well as what he thought of these actions. The first characteristic that is emphasized is one that will return later in this chapter: the Stasi as inhuman.

The first few lines of the song are as follows:

Menschlich fühl' ich mich verbunden (Humanly I feel connected)

Mit den armen Stasi-Hunden (With the poor Stasi dogs)

Die bei Schnee und Regengüssen (Who by snow and downpours)

Mühsam auf mich achten müssen (Have to tediously listen to me)59

Biermann refers to the Stasi as dogs in the second line, a decidedly negative interpretation that appears front and center. To him, agents of the Stasi were not normal people because of the nature of their job, which in itself is inhuman. This refers especially to the fact that they must perform a banal and seemingly useless activity even by foul weather.

The main theme of this song is a subversion by Biermann of the efforts of the Stasi against him. Throughout the song, Biermann describes how Stasi surveillance could actually be helping him. Consider the following verse, referring to the Stasi officers assigned to his surveillance

Und ich weiß ja, hin und wieder (And I know, yes, now and then)

Singt im Bett ihr meine Lieder (They sing my songs in bed)

59 Wolf Biermann, “Die Stasi-Ballade,“ aah-ja!, 1974, track A5 20

Dankbar rechne ich euch's an (Thankfully I reckon with you)

Die Stasi ist mein Ecker, Stasi ist mein Ecker (The Stasi is my Ecker, Stasi is my

Ecker)

Die Stasi ist mein Eckermann (The Stasi is my Eckermann)60

For Biermann, the Stasi officers were the only people that truly knew all his songs, perhaps even by heart. As an artist, this gave him some level of satisfaction. He felt a kind of connection to his

Stasi surveillants in that regard; these people that knew him so intimately, not dissimilar to a close friend or loved one. He also states later that the Stasi officers would have to come to his aid were he to be mugged, for example, so that they do not fail in their mission. As previously stated, this is a subversion of the goals of the Stasi. In its attempts to intimidate and depower him, it instead gave him accomplishment and even a kind of protection. At the same time, Biermann expresses some trepidation at the idea of surveillance, especially when it comes to sexual themes.

He expresses uneasiness regarding potential Stasi interaction with his wife, using knowledge gained from how he treats her. He also acknowledges the chance that the Stasi could just barge in unannounced at any time.61

Wolf Biermann demonstrated to members of the literary scene the worst that could happen if an artist did not conform to state standards. His repression at the hands of the Stasi served as a sort of lesson in that regard. Differences emerge, however, between him and others based on one key factor: collaboration. Authors that collaborated with the Stasi often fared better

60 Ibid. This is a reference to Johann Peter Eckermann. Eckermann was a poet and author, who was best known for the publication of Gespräche mit Goethe. He was acquainted with Goethe in his later years, serving as his private secretary and privy to all of Goethe’s later works before publication. 61 Ibid 21

with the party but faced unique challenges at the same time. One of the best known of such

collaborators is Monika Maron.

State Censorship in Monika Maron’s Flugasche

The stepdaughter of one-time GDR interior minister Karl Maron, Monika Maron grew up

deeply entrenched in the views and norms of the SED.62 She attended university and worked as a

director’s assistant in East German television before becoming a journalist. She became a writer

after the death of her stepfather in 1976.63 Maron had strained relationships with both of her

parents, courtesy of their disagreements over the SED. Her mother, Hella, even disowned her for

a time.64 Maron authored several books that were directly critical of GDR policy, including

Flugasche (1981), Die Überläuferin (1986), and Stille Zeile Sechs (1991).65 It is somewhat

remarkable that she released two of these critical novels pre-Wende yet continued to live in the

GDR until 1988.

One might be tempted to explain the situation based on her relationship with the Stasi,

but the reality of that relationship is rife with complications. Annie Ring states the Stasi pursued

Maron for years before finally successfully recruiting her in 1976, with the codename “Mitsu.”

The knee-jerk reaction to this, when it was revealed to the public in 1995, were accusations of

hypocrisy, considering her years of strong criticism of the SED.66

62 Andrew Plowman, “Escaping the Autobiographical Trap? Monika Maron, The Stasi, and Pawels Briefe,” in German Writers and the Politics of Culture, ed. Paul Cooke and Andrew Plowman (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003) pp. 228 63 “Monika Maron [Deutschland],” Internationales Literaturfestival, Berlin, web 64 Annie Ring, After the Stasi: Collaboration and the Struggle for Sovereign Subjectivity in the Writing of German Unification (Bloomsbury Publishing inc., 2015) pp. 104 65 Plowman, pp. 228 66 Ring, pp. 98 22

It would be irresponsible to unilaterally condemn Maron’s collaboration (and subsequent

writings) as hypocritical, however. The details of her specific duties and reports provide a much

different story. Although Maron collaborated officially with a codename, her role was simply

that of Kontaktperson, a low-level role with little direct responsibility, sometimes even used

unwittingly.67 Furthermore, she only operated as Mitsu for eighteen months, directly authoring

only two reports.68There is no evidence that her reports led to any arrests, nor did they contain

anything other than general information on the moods of her contemporaries. Furthermore,

Maron refused to report on any friends or colleagues in the GDR, preferring to inform on West

Germans.69

Maron also exercised heavy criticism of the SED inside her reports and with her

commanding officer. She directly protested the expatriation of Wolf Biermann to her officer,

arguing that the GDR needed more freedom of opinion. In one report, she unfavorably compares

East Germany’s economy to that of the west.70In the other report, concerning an official

reception in the diplomatic office of West Germany in East Berlin, Andrew Plowman notes that

Maron “(…) demonstrably withholds information about GDR citizens present” while

simultaneously making her unhappiness with the assignment known.71The Stasi evaluation of

Maron is telling, as quoted in Plowman’s chapter: “Sie will eine grundsätzlich andere DDR, in

der die Presse- und Meinungsfreiheit besteht und die Freiheit der Persönlichkeit geachtet wird

67 Owen Evans, Mapping the Contours of Oppression: Subjectivity, Truth and Fiction in Recent German Autobiographical Treatments of Totalitarianism (Amsterdam: Brill Academic Publishers, 2006) pp. 292 68 Ring, pp. 106-107 69 Ring, pp. 108. It should be noted that any information was useful for the Stasi, regardless of how innocuous it may have seemed. 70 Plowman, pp. 230 71 Plowman, pp. 229 23

(She wants a fundamentally different GDR, in which freedom of the press and opinion exists and

freedom of personality is respected.)”72

Maron ceased contact with the Stasi in 1978, and the Mitsu file was closed. Maron then

transitioned from Stasi collaborator to victim with the creation of a surveillance program against

her, insultingly named “Wildsau,” or Wild Sow. The specific surveillance program was the

highest level possible, and extremely aggressive. Maron was not personally aware of this

codename until she was able to access her files after the Wende. The depth of her Wildsau file

eclipses that of her Mitsu file by several degrees.73None of her books were ever published in the

GDR, and her movements were closely followed until the end of the Stasi in general. Maron

vigorously defended her involvement with the Stasi, citing the fact that her reports were

harmless. She is quoted in Owen Evans’ book as saying “Jetzt [...] sollte ich wieder eine Schuld

bekennen, die ich nicht empfinde, eine Tat zugeben, die ich nicht begangen habe (Now [...]

should I again confess a guilt I do not feel, admit an act I did not commit.)”74 Interestingly, she

never cited the Stasi surveillance against her in her defense of her actions, contrasting starkly

with other ex-collaborators.75

For the most part, Maron claims that she could not remember the period of her life spent as Mitsu. Annie Ring states that this shows her collaboration as a loss of control and personal collapse; that Maron did what she did involuntarily.76While it is true that Stasi methods often involved creating unwitting collaboration, especially in the case of a Kontaktperson, it is a risk to take Maron at her word with no evidence to back it up. The “lapse in memory” phenomenon is

72 Plowman, pp. 230 73 Ring, pp. 106 74 Evans, pp. 293 75 Evans, pp. 294 76 Ring, pp. 112 24 one that returns multiple times regarding Stasi collaboration among GDR authors. An effective way to understand the thoughts and feelings of a writer such as Maron is to study their works.

The novel that will be examined is her first, Flugasche.

Censorship culture in Flugasche

Maron’s Flugasche was published in 1981, only in West Germany. Despite her relationship with the Stasi and having shared a draft with an officer, the book was banned in the

GDR. In discussing some defining characteristics of critical literature in the GDR, Annie Ring explains the development of a style of writing called “autofiction.” This denoted the usage of real events in the lives of authors paired with fictional characters in a fictional plot. This was a way of negotiating the difficulty of writing about their pasts with the Stasi.77I would first argue that this is exactly the case with Flugasche. The basic plot outline is that Josefa, a single mother and journalist working for the Illustrierten Woche of East Berlin, travels to a small industrial town identified only as “B” to write a routine profile on a high-ranking comrade within the SED. She instead finds herself shaken by the plight of the pollution filled town and its suffering inhabitants, who face higher rates of sickness than anywhere else in the GDR thanks to the operation of an old and outmoded factory that fills the town with a choking smog. Nadler’s attempts to report on the condition of B cause her to be met with resistance and censorship both from the ruling party and those closest to her.

Like Monika Maron, main character Josefa Nadler is a journalist in East Berlin that must deal with censorship of her writing. What Josefa writes about is also similar to the reality of

Maron’s life, as environmentalism found its way into her critiques to the Stasi. Evan Owens

77 Ring, pp. 10 25 states “one can detect striking parallels between the desolate pictures conjured up of East Berlin in the reports and those of Bitterfeld that would pervade Maron’s début novel, Flugasche.”78The usage of autofiction reveals that what Maron writes about in Flugasche are real issues that people faced in the GDR, and that she has encountered firsthand.

Flugasche falls into some of the common issues with East German critical literature to come out of this time, namely that it is written in a very guarded way with no direct references to real-life organizations other than the party itself. The industrial city, later revealed to be

Bitterfeld, is only referred to by its first initial throughout the book. The party is never directly named, only referred to as “die Partei.” Given the lack of direct references to the Stasi within the book, it will be valuable to instead study its efforts in censoring state media and how those efforts effected the life of Josefa Nadler and, by extension, Monika Maron.

The first effect of censorship in Flugasche is the appearance of what is now known as

Schubladenliteratur or “desk drawer literature.” In the beginning of the novel, Josefa presents her concerns about B to her on and off boyfriend Christian, who tends to toe the party line a little more closely than Josefa. He is troubled by the idea of publishing something potentially critical of the party, knowing the future consequences that come with it. Josefa, too, is aware of what the party expects, proven by what she says about the comrade she was to write about “Was immer ich an ihm finde, ich werde Gutes schreiben (whatever I find on him, I will write something good.)”79 Christian’s solution to her problem is thus “Schreib doch zwei Varianten. Die erste,

78 Evans, pp. 293 79 Monika Maron, Flugasche Kindle edition (Fischer E-Books, 2009) pp. 13 26

wie es war, und eine zweite, die gedruckt werden kann (write two variants. The first as it was,

and a second that can be printed.)”80

This suggested practice closely mirrors the phenomenon of Schubladenliteratur, which

appeared as early as Stalinist Russia. The idea is that authors will write something that cannot

possibly be published just to get the “truth” on paper, and then store that unpublished manuscript

away, hence the desk drawer. For many authors this was the only way to remain true to

themselves and their craft. Josefa is immediately troubled by this idea, due to the inherent fact

that what she would publish would not be the truth, betraying her ideals for comfort and status.

This is elucidated by the quote “Schizophrenie als Lebenshilfe - als wäre kultivierte

Doppelzüngigkeit weniger abscheulich als ordinäre. Ein zynischer Versicht auf Wahrheit.

Intellektuelle Perversion (Schizophrenia as life support – as if cultivated duplicity were less

abhorrent than ordinary. A cynical renunciation of truth. Intellectual perversion.)”81

Indeed, the question of cowardice haunts Josefa’s mind throughout the novel, and it is a

question that has been asked of real life Schubladenliteratur multiple times. Josefa’s biggest

objection to not sharing her writing with others is the fact that the truth is useless when others do

not know it. She is in a position to be of some help immediately, and she can’t let herself ignore

that. Similarly, objections to the practice of Schubladenliteratur in real life are based upon the

idea of shirking a responsibility to help. People who have practiced it are accused of waiting to

contribute until it is too late to be truly effective, especially in the case of criticizing the Stasi.82

The rest of the world knew little about its reach until after the wall fell because of the lack of information coming out of the GDR, something that could have been remedied by popular

80 Maron, pp. 24 81 Maron, pp. 25 82 Ring, pp. 99 27

authors and their writing. This, however, is not so simple. These authors faced the eminent

collapse of their life as they knew it if they crossed the Stasi, and therefore were forced to walk a

thin line.

Another important aspect of censorship in Flugasche is that it is all encompassing. The

party control of media reaches all people around her, including those that she considers her

friends. She finds little support for her endeavors when she decides to send a letter to the party

heads about the situation in B. Even Christian, who she regards as one of her only constant

support systems, derides her idea as laughable. “Josefa’s Naivität, infantiler Unberechenbarkeit

oft bedrohlich nahe, hatte ihn schon früher amüsiert oder geärgert, je nach dem Grad der

Ignoranz, den er darin wahrnam (Josefa’s naivety, often threateningly close to infantile

unpredictability, had amused or annoyed him before, depending on the degree of ignorance he

perceived in it.)”83 The party’s norms have turned those she trusts against her, driven away her support.

State censorship is also portrayed as particularly destructive to Josefa’s life, within which one can see some potential influence from the Stasi. One recognizable trend occurs at her hearing, incurred by the letter that she sent to the party. What was to be a chance for her to defend herself devolved into a roomful of men chiding her. Even her work discipline and basic ability are called into question, which have never been questioned previously.84 This echoes the

Stasi’s attempts to discredit the character of Wolf Biermann. It seems that the party was creating issues with Josefa where they did not previously exist in an attempt to lessen the effect of her written work. The effect that this hearing has on her life is catastrophic. She sinks into a deep

83 Maron, pp. 190 84 Maron, pp. 203 28

depression and develops a dependence on sleeping pills to get through the day.85 She also closes

herself off from others, worsening her already extant loneliness. She even grows resentful of her

own son.86

The tight grip of the party over cultural and artistic norms creates a culture of constant

lying and walking on eggshells to avoid telling the truth in Flugasche. Most of the people in

Josefa’s professional life try to placate her with platitudes about her writing and feign interest in

the issues that she writes about. This is clear from the fact that most of her colleagues inform her

that they like her story about B, but do not lift a finger to help her when she is under fire for

writing the letter about it. Her superior, Luise, states “Das ist eine Reportage so ganz nach

meinem Herzen (this is a report so close to my heart)” after reading Josefa’s manuscript.87 This,

evidently, is not the truth, as Luise makes no efforts to assist the publishing of the story, and

chides Josefa for pushing back against censorship, saying “Du bist bei der Zeitung. Zeitung ist

so. Wenn du das nicht aushältst, such dir einen anderen Beruf (you are at the newspaper. The

newspaper is like that. If you can’t handle it, look for another profession.)”88

In another incident, Josefa meets with a “zuständige Genosse” or “responsible comrade” about her work. He tells her that he likes the report, detailed by the quote “Leidenschaft und

Engagement hätte er deutlich gespürt. Auch sachlich seien ihm keine Unrichtigkeiten aufgefallen

(he clearly sensed her passion and commitment. He also did not notice any inaccuracies in fact)” he later doubles down on the praise with “Er wünschte sich (…) es würden all Journalisten so ehrlich und Kämpferisch für die Sache eintreten (he wished (...) that all journalists would stand

85 Maron, pp. 222 86 Maron, pp. 216 87 Maron, pp. 74 88 Maron, pp. 75 29

up for the cause in such an honest and combative manner.)”89 His criticism is that she is

impatient, and that it was not yet time to reveal these issues, which would eventually be worked

out. Despite this seemingly positive interaction, Josefa discovers later that the responsible

comrade referred to her as arrogant when discussing with her superiors. She silently chides

herself for being too trusting of him.90

A second case like Monika Maron’s is that of Christa Wolf. Both had similar experiences with the Stasi, though they differed in their commitment to the socialist cause in general. Wolf is further unique because of her position in the GDR, and the respect that she had garnered from her peers for her continual defiance of party cultural norms.

Portrayal of Stasi Surveillance in Christa Wolf’s Was bleibt

Christa Wolf’s convictions, in many ways, mirror those of Wolf Biermann. Wolf was

born in what is today Poland and moved in her teenage years to Mecklenburg-Vorpommern and

later studied German literature in Jena and Leipzig. In her childhood, Wolf was a member of the

Nazi Bund deutscher Mädel (League of German Girls) and had Nazi supporting parents, which

influenced her decision to embrace socialism and join the SED in East Germany. For her,

socialism was the only way for Germany to move forward from the ashes of fascism, and deeply

ensconced herself in anti-fascist rhetoric.91

Wolf remained an ardent socialist throughout her life, even during her period of Stasi

surveillance, much like Wolf Biermann. Her criticism was leveled at the SED rather than the

concept of socialism in general. Her first brush with critical literature was with her first widely-

89 Maron, pp. 168 90 Maron, pp. 199 91 Sonja E. Klocke and Jennifer R. Hosek, Christa Wolf : A Companion (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2018) pp. 2-3 30

received work, the seminal Der Geteilte Himmel (1961), which was controversial in the GDR for

extending slight criticisms of certain governmental practices yet was still allowed to be published

there, pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable in literature.92

Christa Wolf and her husband Gerhard both soured against the SED with the arrival of the Kahlschlag-Plenum in 1965, which essentially banned criticism of the SED. This meant many of Wolf’s projects met resistance from the party, even for small constructive criticism.93

When she spoke against the plenum, her chances of joining the SED central committee vanished.

She did, however, receive critical acclaim for her efforts to subvert the will of the SED,

becoming the “grande dame of GDR, and even German, letters,” as phrased by Christiane Zehl

Romero.94 She was renowned all over the world for her writing, and became among the most

influential GDR authors for decades. She was considered one of the foremost authors on the

front line of literary criticism of the SED, which makes her past with the Stasi quite

controversial.95

Like Monika Maron, Christa Wolf was also a Stasi informer for a short time, from 1959-

1962. She was active mostly before the Berlin Wall was built, when surveillance from the Stasi

was not yet as widespread as it was when Maron would be recruited in the mid-1970s. She was

an official IM, and carried the codename “Margarete,” which she chose herself. 96 Given her staunch support of the SED prior to 1965, one would imagine Christa Wolf likely informed for

92 Klocke and Hosek, pp. 8 93 Klocke and Hosek, pp. 9-10 94 Christiane Zehl Romero, “Sexual Politics and Christa Wolf’s Was Bleibt,” in The End of the GDR and the Problems of Integration: Selected Papers from the Sixteenth and Seventeenth New Hampshire Symposia on the German Democratic Republic, ed. Margy Gerber and Roger Woods (University Press of America, 1993) pp. 157 95 Romero, pp. 158 96 Bathrick, pp. 224 31

the Stasi in a genuine attempt to empower the state and party. Annie ring, however, states that

she was reluctant in becoming an IM.97

Like Monika Maron, the revelation of Wolf’s IM activities was met with widespread

criticism and accusations of hypocrisy. Also, like Maron, Wolf’s actual actions perhaps did not

merit the reaction she received. Most of Wolf’s interaction with the Stasi amounted to recorded

conversations with agents; she wrote only one report herself. According to David Bathrick, what

she spoke about to the Stasi was no different from what she was already criticizing writers for in

public, namely the “politically misguided and ‘labile’ attitudes of other writers.”98 Wolf claimed to have no memory of “Margarete,” perhaps having repressed it. She informed the public about her actions personally, which adds some credibility to her statement, as well as her subsequent willingness to engage the public about it. The Stasi officers in charge of her case noted that Wolf lacked a “necessary love” for their activities, and worried about excessive hesitancy in her reporting. 99 Eventually the Stasi terminated her IM file because of this and opened up a new file

targeting Wolf and her husband for surveillance, codenamed Doppelzüngler (forked tongue).

Wolf would go on to be victimized by the Stasi for three decades.100 It is this surveillance and

victimization that makes up the conflict of her renowned novella, Was bleibt.

Depiction of the Stasi in Was bleibt

On paper, Was bleibt would appear to belong among post-Wende literature, given its

1989 publication date. The reason that it appears in this chapter, however, is a return of the

Schubladenliteratur concept from the last chapter. Although this story was published in

97 Ring, pp. 99 98 Bathrick, pp. 224 99 Ring, pp. 119-120 100 Bathrick, pp. 224 32

November 1989, it was written ten years prior, near the height of the Cold War. Therefore, for the purposes of this study, the depictions of the Stasi actually fall within pre-Wende conventions.

Was bleibt was met with controversy stemming from the delay between writing and publication, with many commentators considering it “too little, too late.” They believed Wolf’s story would have served better while the Stasi were still a threat.101 Wolf and Was bleibt were part of a larger post-Wende Literaturstreit that will be explored in detail in chapter two.

The plot of Was bleibt is very simple. A slim volume of approximately sixty pages, it concerns a day in the life of an unnamed protagonist under Stasi surveillance, and the physical and mental effects that it has on her life. Immediately, one can detect the same sort of

“autofiction” present in this story as was present in Flugasche. The protagonist is a popular writer in the GDR just like Wolf, and the subject of a similar type of surveillance operation. This, according to Annie Ring, points at an autobiographically informed narrative, though there are no references of this protagonist ever having worked with the Stasi before.102 Another commonality with Flugasche is the vagueness of the details. There are no full names ever revealed in the narrative, usually only first names or even just the first letter. The organization surveilling the protagonist, though heavily implied to be the Stasi, is never actually given a name either. This creates a sense of mystery, even unease for the reader.

The major way that the Stasi is continually depicted in this work is as something inhuman. Unlike Wolf Biermann’s choice of “animalizing” the Stasi, Christa Wolf depicts the

Stasi almost as a force of nature that has invaded her life on a fundamental level. The protagonist herself objects to invocation of animals, stating “I could never, as others have done, use the

101 Romero, pp. 159 102 Ring, pp. 99 33

names of pigs and dogs, not even those of ferrets and reptiles, for the young gentlemen out

there.”103 The protagonist’s entire life has begun to revolve around her surveillance, with the idea

stuck in the back of her mind throughout the day. Regarding getting ready in the morning, she

says “everything I did was a pretense (…) in reality I was, as if drawn by a string, on my way

toward the front room and the large bay window, which looked out onto the Friedrichstrasse.”104

This was where the Stasi agents would park their car for surveillance. The Stasi, as an all- encompassing force of nature, has taken over her daily actions and, in a way, subverted her will to its in doing so.

The protagonist states that she has learned the men watching her are not accessible to her, again using dehumanizing language, saying “they were not my kind. They were the messengers of the other.”105 She struggles with the idea that there is no face to which she can direct her

angst. The Stasi, in her life, is like a ghost. It is visible, even tangible, yet still incorporeal. The

men watching her are not “men” as one usually imagines, rather just extensions of a shadow

organization that knows no boundaries. Because of this, there is no chance for human solutions

like explanation or protestation.106

These agents are a constant source of fear for the protagonist as well. When spotting the

agents out her window, she states “I noticed them right away. I had felt a jolt, a tremble on my

inner seismograph, which continued to reverberate.”107 She further references being tense and

feeling unease, even at one point losing hair and sleep, though that had since improved. She

103 Christa Wolf, What Remains & Other Stories, tr. Heike Schwarzbauer and Rick Takvorian (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1995) pp. 238 104 Wolf, pp. 232 105 Wolf, pp. 239 106 Ibid 107 Wolf, pp. 236 34

states that she still experiences nightmares regularly though, with no sense that they would go

away soon.108

Another sign of the Stasi’s power over her life is the protagonist’s invocation of

language. The protagonist continually references the creation of a different language within her,

brought on by the Stasi, and her desire for a new language to emerge. Her current language is

guarded and incomplete, with a limited descriptive ability beyond the physical. Regarding

conversation in this language, she states “that was how we always talked, circumventing the real

text. I couldn’t help thinking of the two or three times when the real text had slipped out because

I didn’t have the strength to keep it in, and how his eyes and voice had changed.”109 The Stasi

has essentially stunted her ability to communicate with, and thus relate to, other people, forcing

her to use veiled language and codes. She regularly claims to be unable to describe things using

her current language, saying that one day she will be able to do it in her new language, which

will be richer and freer.110

A second major depiction within the text is that of the Stasi as omnipresent. Specifically, the protagonist runs into the influence of the Stasi in nearly every part of her public life, or at least what is left of it. She describes meeting someone that she once considered a friend, Jürgen

M., and realizes that he could very well be involved in the surveillance against her, even entertaining the idea that he oversees it. She remembers when he, in an emotional breakdown,

told her directly that he was spying on her some years ago, words that she passed off as drunken

babble at the time. The new context has taught her that he may have been telling the truth.111

108 Wolf, pp. 240 109 Wolf, pp. 242 110 Wolf, pp. 240 111 Wolf, pp. 255-256 35

Even if this is not true, Jürgen has still obviously turned against her based on his behavior when seeing her in public, namely turning away and ignoring her.112 This fear of associating with the protagonist is still evidence of the social reach of the Stasi.

Further evidence comes from the Stasi infiltration of a public reading which is to honor the protagonist. The Stasi placed agents in the audience of the reading, evidenced by six numbers on the guest list that have no names nor listed affiliations with them. The protagonist implies that this is not an unusual occurrence with the quote “only six, I thought, almost confidently.”113

Later, the police break up a crowd gathered to support the protagonist outside the event. The police claim the crowd was violent and unruly. She discovers, again without surprise, that the police were called before the reading even started. A witness describes the scene outside, before the police intervention, as “completely peaceful, funny even, like a happening or something,” also adding “please don’t think anybody wanted to disturb your reading.”114 She later receives several phone calls after the fact to this effect as well. This evidence points toward the occurrence being a Stasi effort to discredit the protagonist’s fans, portraying them as violent. It was also a way to disrupt an event that was in her honor, stealing any positive attention away from her.

Conclusions

First, the major factor tying all three of these examples together is the depiction of the

Stasi as all-powerful. Each depicts, in different ways, the Stasi invading the personal lives of the characters in deep and sometimes profound ways. Stasi efforts to discredit characters in their

112 Wolf, pp. 251 113 Wolf, pp. 283 114 Wolf, pp. 291 36 professional lives appear in both Flugasche and Was bleibt, as well as what happened to Wolf

Biermann in real life. The Stasi interrupts their professional lives, sometimes completely as in the case of Josefa Nadler. Characters describe friends that have turned against them, either by informing for the Stasi or by fearing them. The party line on culture acted as a divide between them and others, leading to a sense of isolation in each case.

Indeed, isolation stemming from the Stasi is a major recurring theme in the works by

Monika Maron and Christa Wolf. This isolation from others has transformative effects on both

Josefa Nadler in Flugasche and the protagonist in Was bleibt. They change for the worst, becoming more tense and guarded. Josefa pushes away human contact that she does have, and the protagonist speaks in a language that is not sufficient for “normal” living. People are afraid of interacting with the protagonist, owing to her proximity to the Stasi. Similarly, people that

Wolf Biermann encountered also faced repercussions, such as the director that had his film banned even after removing Biermann’s song from it.

The Stasi is portrayed as an organization that appears omnipresent, like a force of nature.

It is faceless and uncaring, and its reach is absolute. Wolf Biermann and Christa Wolf both use dehumanizing language when describing the Stasi, and Monika Maron describes its efforts in censorship as absolute. It is presented as a sort of shadow that hangs over the GDR and permeates all facets of society. In general, it is the enemy. The Stasi, during this time, is generally not given a perspective of its own in literature. This is most likely owing to the lack of information available about it. It is an antagonist, portrayed as something mysterious and nefarious. The protagonists are those who are victimized by the Stasi. Major changes in Stasi literature occurred after reunification, which brought with it its own bevy of issues for writers in the GDR. 37

CHAPTER 2: THE STASI AND GERMAN LITERATURE POST-WENDE

The Success of the Revolution and the Failure of the Stasi

The socialist experiment in Germany came to an unceremonious end in the year 1990.

Though official reunification would occur that year, some argue the process began long before.

Indeed, the GDR underwent momentous changes in the years leading up to the eventual

reunification, a process also popularly known as the Wende. It started with a change in Soviet

leadership. As noted in the previous chapter, the GDR functioned as a satellite state of the Soviet

Union: officially self-sufficient, realistically subservient. Changes in Soviet leadership had massive effects on the GDR because on paper, the GDR lacked legitimacy in the international community. It relied on its relations with the Soviet Union to remain afloat and was particularly fragile concerning changes in the international order.115 It would therefore prove disastrous when

in 1988 the reform-minded Mikhail Gorbachev became head of state in the Soviet Union.

According to historian Mary Fulbrook, Gorbachev immediately butted heads with the

hardline party leaders of the SED in East Germany, especially Erich Honecker, who was

historically opposed to any kind of change. The Soviet Union, Fulbrook argues, essentially

renounced the GDR (and the rest of its satellite states) which was a major contribution to its

demise. Combined with the legitimacy crisis was the fact that GDR citizens, since at least 1987,

were becoming increasingly more active in society. Political activists in the religious sphere

emboldened ordinary citizens to call for reforms, calls that were bolstered by a diminished ability

to react on the part of the SED.116 These citizens rallied against prolonged economic stagnation

115 Mary Fulbrook, Anatomy of a Dictatorship: Inside the GDR, 1949-1989, Kindle eBook edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995) Ch. 9: “The End of a Dictatorship” Introductory section. 116 Fulbrook, “The End of a Dictatorship,” subheading “The mobilization of the masses” More information on the subjugation of the protestant church by the Stasi can be found in Elizabeth Braw, God’s Spies: The Stasi’s Cold War Campaign Inside the Church (Oxford: Lion Hudson, 2019) 38 and the far more visible effects of pollution, calling the protests of Josefa Nadler in Flugasche to mind. Church leaders, in defiance of the Stasi, called for peace and protested censorship.117

The loss of support from the Soviet Union, and indeed the wavering strength of the metaphorical Iron Curtain in general, made the Stasi’s job far more difficult. Popular calls among protestors for “Keine Gewalt (No violence)!” made enacting violent repression upon a non- violent populace a potential public relations disaster, especially considering the loss of external support from the Soviet Union. At the same time, protestors could no longer be painted as the enemy, or provocateurs of the West, owing to their sheer numbers. The classic techniques of the

Stasi became useless in the face of the growing revolution.118

As the end of the GDR drew near, historian Edward Peterson argues that the Stasi largely sided with the populace in their criticism of the SED, as quoted in his book: “People should have the right to leave and there is a certain fear that no more will be allowed. Because of the increasing dissatisfaction of all parts of the population, an uncontrollable reaction is now possible…A powder keg exists for an explosion.”119 Stasi leadership, more connected to the feelings of the populace than the SED, recognized the potential disaster that the stubbornness of the SED threatened to foment. To be sure, apprehension in the Stasi was not only related to fear of state instability among high-ranking officers. The Stasi noted that the battle-readiness of a combat units was hindered due to soldiers sympathizing with the goals of the revolutionaries.

117 Edward Peterson, The Secret Police and the Revolution: The Fall of the German Democratic Republic (Westport: Praeger, 2002) pp. 64-65. Peterson’s arguments in this book are sharply contested by historian Gary Bruce, but this information on church leadership is still valuable. 118 Fulbrook, “The End of a Dictatorship,” subheading “The renunciation of repression?” 119 Peterson, pp. 175 39

These soldiers disobeyed orders by refusing to intervene, and sometimes resigned from the SED

on the spot.120

The Literature Scene after the Wende

Authors in the GDR played their own part in the rising revolutionary tide, though the

exact extent remains in debate. Authors, and the intelligentsia in general, were shocked by the

speed at which change took place. They were left unprepared for ensuing events and had to

scramble to keep on top of it.121 Authors largely could not predict the fall of the wall. Peter

Schneider, author of the seminal novel Der Mauerspringer, argued in an interview with the New

York Times Magazine that the wall would never fall just months before exactly that happened.122

The intelligentsia, of course, should not be faulted for incorrect predictions. The process proved

unpredictable throughout, with changes coming quickly and without forewarning. As argued by

scholar Karl-Heinz Schoeps, “In the unification process — which had really begun with the

massive flight of people via Hungary and Czechoslovakia in the summer and fall of 1989 — the

people determined the speed of events, not the politicians or intellectuals.”123

It should be noted that most East German writers and artists did not favor reunification,

remaining loyal to socialist ideals. Two such artists were featured in the previous chapter, Wolf

Biermann and Christa Wolf. Biermann, in a concert, protested reunification, equating it to

“selling” the GDR to the west.124 Christa Wolf signaled support for continued socialism and

120 Fulbrook, “The End of a Dictatorship,” subheading “The renunciation of repression?” 121 Stephen Brockmann, Literature and German Reunification (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1999) pp. 46 Brockmann’s writings on the subject are prolific. See also: his chapter “East German Literature and Reunification: Continuities and Discontinuities” in Virtual Walls?: Political Unification and Cultural Difference in Contemporary Germany, ed. Franziska Lys, Michael Dreyer (Camden: Boydell and Brewer, 2017) 122 Brockmann, pp. 47 123 Karl-Heinz Schoeps, “Intellectuals, Unification, and Political Change 1990: The Case of Christa Wolf,” in German Unifications and the Change of Literary Discourse, ed. Walter Pape (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1993) pp. 251 124 Brockmann, pp. 53 40

hope for a better version thereof with the quote “Imagine there was socialism, and nobody ran

away!”125 Wolf said this during a famous address at Alexanderplatz on November fourth,

1989.126 Many artists saw the revolution as a “Democratic Socialist revolution,” a view shared

by Peter Schneider. A way to improve existing socialism rather than do away with it. Anger was

directed, much like with earlier protests in the sixties and seventies, at the SED rather than

socialism. Notably, Monika Maron protested the words of Wolf Biermann and favored

reunification, setting herself apart from others.127

One event dominated the discourse of the literary sphere in the early years of reunification, which intimately involved Christa Wolf. This is referred to as the Literaturstreit, or literary dispute. The Literaturstreit began with the publication of Was Bleibt. As mentioned in the previous chapter, this publication was met with criticism due to the controversial practice of

Schubladenliteratur. There were two journalists that extended criticism of Wolf and her publication in 1990: Frank Schirrmacher and Ulrich Greiner, writing for Frankfurter Allgemeine and Die Zeit respectively.128

Ulrich Greiner opined that Wolf’s publication was a blatant attempt to claim a victim

status she didn’t deserve. He wrote, referring to the publication of Was Bleibt, “Daß sie ihn jetzt

veröffentlicht, verrät einen Mangel nicht an Mut (...) sondern an Aufrichtigkeit gegen sich selbst

und die eigene Geschichte (That she has published it now betrays not a lack of courage, but of

sincerity towards herself and her own history)”129 Schirrmacher extends different criticisms,

125 Brockmann, pp. 49 126 During this address, Wolf invoked the idea of a new, free language just like in Was bleibt. 127 Brockmann, pp. 53 128 Stephen Brockmann, "The Politics of German Literature," Monatshefte 84, no. 1 (1992): 46-58. 129 Ulrich Greiner, “Mangel an Feingefühl,” in „Es geht nicht um Christa Wolf“: Der Literaturstreit im vereinten Deutschland, ed. Thomas Ans (Munich: Spangenberg, 1991) pp. 70 41

leveled at her career in general. He argues that Was Bleibt demonstrates a guilty conscience on

her part.130 He writes “Es ist sentimental und unglaubwürdig bis an die Grenzen des Kitsches (It

is sentimental and unbelievable to the point of kitsch).”131

The event earned its Streit title when scores of GDR authors and artists came to Wolf’s defense shortly after the publication of these two articles. Wolf Biermann, for example, argued that the story still held value despite sitting in the desk drawer for ten years. He said of Wolf

“Wie zögerlich, furchtsam und zerissen Christa Wolf auch immer war, sie machte nie auf Held, und sie durfte deshalb zerissen, furchtsam und zögerlich sein (However hesitant, timid, and torn

Christa Wolf was, she never pretended to be a hero, and she was therefore allowed to be torn, timid, and hesitant.)”132 Günter Grass called the campaign against Wolf a “witch hunt,” and

Stefan Heym argued that the articles were manipulative and hateful. Others on the side of Wolf

included Hans Meyer, Adolf Muschg, and Ivan Nagel. Stephen Brockmann notes that many who

sided with Wolf viewed these articles as attempts to destroy what was left of GDR identity.133

This event was further exacerbated by the revelations of Stasi connections among highly

regarded GDR authors, such as Christa Wolf, Monika Maron, Rainer Schedlinski, and Sascha

Anderson. The debate surrounding the legitimacy of their writings added to an already extant

swell of popular opinion in favor of openness, which produced a 1992 freedom of information

law regarding Stasi documents, and the creation of the Stasi Unterlagen Behörde, headed by

130 Brockmann, “The Politics of German Literature,” pp. 48 131 Frank Schirrmacher, “Dem Druck des härteren, strengeren Lebens standhalten,“ in „Es geht nicht um Christa Wolf“: Der Literaturstreit im vereinten Deutschland, ed. Thomas Ans (Munich: Spangenberg, 1991) pp. 87 132 Wolf Biermann, “Nur wer sich ändert, bleibt sich treu,“ in „Es geht nicht um Christa Wolf“: Der Literaturstreit im vereinten Deutschland, ed. Thomas Ans (Munich: Spangenberg, 1991) pp. 140 133 Brockmann, “The Politics of German Literature,” pp. 48 42

popular East German pastor Joachim Gauck. Each citizen henceforth had the right to view their

personal Stasi file, should one exist.134

The Stasi in Literature: post-Wende Developments

Post-Wende literature grappled with several issues that arose during the event. In general,

the Stasi became a far more common target after 1990, owing to recent discoveries about the

extent of spying in the GDR during its existence. Some earlier post-Wende works included

Karate-Billi kehrt zurück, a play written by Klaus Pohl concerning an entire town spying on an

athlete, Die Nacht danach und der Morgen by Uwe Saeger, Nikolaikirche by Erich Loest (which

has a 2005 film adaptation), and the non-fiction Das Verhör by Andreas Sinakowski. There are

three specific works that will be studied in detail for this chapter, The File by Timothy Garton

Ash, “Ich” by Wolfgang Hilbig, and Helden wie wir by Thomas Brussig.

Stasi literature changed in focus during this era. Because of the availability of new

information on the scope of Stasi spying, as well as its specific techniques, it became possible for

authors to chronicle this in their literature. There are two general ways the Stasi appear in this

literature: as the organization itself or in the form of IMs, or unofficial informers. Agents of the

Stasi, as is common between two of the novels that will be studied, become protagonists in these stories, though this does not mean that they are shown in a positive light.

Much post-Wende literature involving the Stasi grapples with the implications of being an IM, for both the personal lives of the IMs themselves and the repercussions for their family

and friends. The first work that will be studied, The File, contains all the above as well as

134 Ibid. At the time, this agency was popularly referred to as the Gauck Behörde. Gauck would later become the president of Germany. 43

information about Stasi officers as well. The book presents real world information from the life

of its author, leading to sobering discoveries about the effect of the Stasi on real people.

The File and Journalistic Dicovery

The File is a work of non-fiction by Timothy Garton Ash. Garton Ash is an author and historian specializing in international relations in Europe. The File was published relatively late in the post-Wende period in 1997, though its subject matter and style lend very well to inclusion among post-Wende literature. Garton Ash lived in Berlin for several years, including eight months in East Berlin in 1980. He did not travel to the GDR with the intention at the outset of writing about the regime, rather he was researching the Third Reich for a dissertation while

studying at Oxford.135 He came to the attention of the Stasi before then, as early as 1979, and it

opened a file against him. Garton Ash’s book details his reading of this file and comparing its

contents to the diary that he kept at the time. Later in the book, Garton Ash deduces the identity

of several IMs and Stasi officers that spied on him and meets with them for answers.

Garton Ash’s book is unique from other personal histories because he is able to glean the

efficacy of Stasi surveillance and discover the different steps involved by using his diary as a

point of comparison. His diary was also instrumental in the uncovering of IMs’ identities. It

allows for a retrospective recounting of events that are thrust into a different light, considering

the recently revealed Stasi involvement. It also allows for very personal examinations of IMs and

their motives, with some of this information coming straight from the people themselves. Garton

Ash is careful to never reveal any real names of IMs involved in his file, which reflects the very

135 Timothy Garton Ash, The File: A Personal History (New York: Vintage Books, 1997) pp. 25 44

sensitive post-Wende situation regarding ex-Stasi employees. Revelation of one’s past as an IM

could lead to disastrous consequences, both personally and professionally.

The first major theme of how the Stasi was portrayed by Garton Ash in The File is

relaying its occasional incompetence. Prior to this time, as revealed in the previous chapter, the

Stasi was widely viewed as an omnipotent force in the GDR, with unlimited knowledge at its

disposal. Garton Ash turns this on its head with revelations stemming from the comparison with

his diary. He discovers that the Stasi routinely made very basic mistakes with his personal

information, including simply spelling his name wrong as “Tim Gartow Ash” and regularly

getting dates of important events wrong, including by up to three months concerning a trip to

Poland.136

In a similar vein, the Stasi routinely misinterpreted meetings between Garton Ash and

others, pointing to a general misunderstanding of what it was watching. An early example is a meeting with Dr. Georg, a newspaper editor and secret spy for Soviet intelligence. Based on the

Stasi’s notes, Garton Ash is painted as submitting to a hierarchy with Dr. Georg in this meeting, with Garton Ash quoted as referring to Georg as his Vorgesetzter, or superior. Garton Ash notes that this is strange wording, and that he would not have implied a hierarchical relationship.

While this misattributed quote did him no harm, he demonstrates the potential danger it might cause someone in another position:

Now suppose for a moment the content of this passage were altogether more

serious and compromising; suppose that the interpretation of the passage hinged-

as it sometimes can-on the one word; suppose I had subsequently become a

136 Garton Ash, pp. 27 45

prominent East German politician; and suppose that I woke up to find the passage

quoted against me as a headline in a West German tabloid: quote unquote.137

Inaccuracies can still lead to lasting damage if they are presented by a group that are known as

authorities.

In a later example, Garton Ash recounts a meeting with Eberhard Haufe, a scholar

removed from his university post for political reasons and fellow unknowing victim of the

Stasi.138 Garton Ash’s most prolific informant, IMV “Michaela,” provides the Stasi with

information on the meeting.139 In her notes, she portrays Garton Ash as rude and unwelcome in the Haufe household, pressuring them into offering him a place to stay for the night. When speaking with the Haufes in the present, however, they only have fond memories of his visit, with Frau Haufe saying he was “somewhat reserved but certainly not pushy, as she describes you.”140 The Haufes, especially Frau Haufe, are described as upset over the conduct of

“Michaela,” who was a friend of theirs.

This is not to say the Stasi was totally incompetent. Garton Ash states that although

details are wrong, the big picture from the Stasi basically adds up, mentioning the fact that the

Stasi had still managed to quickly gather his contact information in West Berlin and tended to

follow his movements well. He states that the Stasi “lives up to their reputation for being

everywhere and watching everyone.”141

137 Garton Ash, pp. 29-30 138 Haufe specifically voiced opposition to the regime in charge, saying that they represented a negation of humanität. The involvement of the state in determining university posts was commonplace, especially in the fifties when Haufe was ousted. (pp. 102) 139 “IMV” denoted a higher level of informant, one who directly engaged with suspected people or groups. 140 Garton Ash, pp. 105 141 Garton Ash, pp. 32 46

The next major theme in the book is the description of the motives of IMs. These are

presented as multi-faceted, and dependent on the individual. “Michaela” is presented as

remorseful for her actions. She states that, as a government official, she was “obligated” to work

with the Stasi. She also did so simply out of belief in the system. She repeatedly uses the word

dienstlich, meaning that she viewed her collaboration as only business. This was a way that she

divorced herself from her actions and the consequences they carried for others. “Michaela”

mentions to Garton Ash during their meeting that underneath it all, she was fundamentally scared

of the Stasi.

Conversely, IM “Schuldt,” a lecturer in English literature, was not beholden to the Stasi

in any professional capacity. Garton Ash describes “Schuldt” as the Stasi’s pen pal: “the kind of

informer (…) who spent countless hours writing or typing absurdly detailed reports.”142

“Schuldt” is pulled into the net of the Stasi after having been denounced for homosexual

advances toward students. The Stasi is strongly implied to have blackmailed him into working as

an informant.143 Schuldt, along with being very detailed in his reporting, is described as very

self-serving in his relationship with the Stasi. He recognizes their ability to do things for him and

attempts to take full advantage whenever he can, vying for refills of Brandy and trips to the west

at the Stasi’s expense.144

IMB “Smith” is an interesting case, as an Englishman living in Berlin. “Smith” tells

Garton Ash in an interview that he viewed the Stasi as a “channel of communication to the

142 Garton Ash, pp. 128 Journalist Elizabeth Braw also describes this phenomenon with several examples in God’s Spies: The Stasi’s Cold War Espionage Campaign Inside the Church (Oxford: Lion Hudson, 2019) 143 Garton Ash, pp. 130. Garton Ash notes that the blackmail is not formally recorded anywhere, but preliminary conversations and formal recruitment occur suspiciously close to the initial incident. 144 Garton Ash, pp. 133 47

state.”145 This is something that many authors who worked with the Stasi, such as Christa Wolf

and Monika Maron, also said of their informing. Like the situation with the previous IM, the

Stasi was very manipulative in its recruitment of “Smith.” An officer told him that he was

suspected of being caught up in a western secret service and forced him to cooperate to avoid

punishment. The Stasi had no such suspicions. It invented the controversy to make him scared

enough to cooperate.146 Smith also unconsciously divorces himself from his actions as an IM. He

acts surprised at his writings, countering that he didn’t talk about people with the Stasi as a way

to minimize his guilt. He offers a written treatment on the IM situation to Garton Ash, to help

with understanding, in which the word “I” never appears.147

The final theme to be examined is the portrayal of Stasi officers themselves. This stays

more consistent than the portrayal of IMs. Garton Ash interviews a number of ex-officers that

worked in the foreign intelligence division, the members of which did not receive such harsh

treatment after the dissolution of the service as divisions that spied on their own citizens.148 A major commonality is that these officers do not feel regret for what they did. The famous Markus

Wolf, head of foreign intelligence, states that the Stasi kept the peace in Europe, while still acknowledging occasional “bad things” that it had to do to achieve that goal.149 In a similar vein,

General Kratsch, previous head of the Main Department, states that in committing such morally

145 Garton Ash, pp. 137 146 Garton Ash, pp. 138 147 Garton Ash, pp. 139 148 The foreign intelligence division was named Hauptverwaltung Aufklärung, which interestingly strictly translates to “Main directorate of enlightenment.” This flowery language denotes a level of romanticism within the organization. 149 Garton Ash, pp. 167 Markus Wolf was the head of Hauptverwaltung Aufklärung for 32 years, until 1986. This made him the Stasi’s second in charge behind Erich Mielke for most of the service’s existence. 48 bankrupt actions, he was only doing his job and felt no guilt. Garton Ash states that this excuse was common among former Stasi officials.150

Garton Ash also portrays Stasi officials as slightly delusional in what they believed they had contributed. Kratsch states that the people of the GDR loved the Stasi, and were grateful for what they did, saying “They thanked us from above and from below.”151 Another former department head, Gerhard Kaulfuss, takes it even further, stating that there was only a minority that suffered for their political views, and that people look back to the time of the Stasi with longing. He states, “It can’t go on like this, I tell you, and when the call comes for us to take to the streets, we’ll be there.”152

The next book covers similar themes as Garton Ash does in The File, though it is differentiated by the fact that it is a work of fiction. Wolfgang Hilbig’s masterwork “Ich” is a mind-bending examination of surveillance and personal crisis born thereof.

State Surveillance and Memory in “Ich”

Wolfgang Hilbig was one of the strongest voices in the post-Wende literature scene, both in prose and poetry. He was born in the region of Thüringen and was four years old when it became part of the GDR. In keeping with the general trend, he was rarely published in the GDR.

Only his poetry collection Stimme Stimme (1983) was published in his home country, other attempts were met with failure.153 Much of his early work, therefore, has apparently been

150 Garton Ash, pp. 180 151 Ibid 152 Garton Ash, pp. 185 153 This book was met with poor reviews in the GDR, contrasting his popularity in the west. (Ring, 143) 49

destroyed.154 He was widely published in the West, known mostly for poetry. Hilbig came to the

attention of the Stasi in the 1970s, suspected of subversive activity.155

Hilbig’s interactions with the Stasi were more severe than those of authors mentioned thus far. He was arrested in May 1978 for an incident involving the GDR flag and interrogated in a Stasi prison in Leipzig. There, he was offered a choice: spy for the Stasi or face a sentence of five to seven years. According to scholar Annie Ring, despite his arrest for a flag infraction,

Hilbig was in real trouble for his plans to publish poetry in the west.156 Hilbig was offered the

chance to work free of interference as an author, as well as regular income from the Stasi. To his

credit, he refused, but ultimately remained imprisoned for only the following two months. The

Stasi opened full surveillance operation of the highest level against him after the publication of

“literary works with a politically antagonistic message” in 1982, giving him the code name

“Literat” (man of letters). The operation lasted until he left the GDR in 1987.157 It was revealed after the Wende that the Stasi had been tracking Hilbig in some capacity since as early as 1964, before he had even published any writing.158

One of Hilbig’s best known novels, 1993’s “Ich” deals with issues of repression,

surveillance, desire, and memory. The protagonist, identified only as W., is an unofficial

collaborator for the Stasi who hangs around the underground literary circles of East Berlin. Day

after day he stalks the underground of Berlin, the only constant in his mind being his mission:

watching and reporting on “Reader,” a new face in the literary subculture who has quickly

154 Michael J. Hartwell, “Wolfgang Hilbig,” Contemporary Literary Criticism, ed. Jennifer Stock, vol. 445 (Farmington Hills: Gale, 2019) 155 Ibid 156 Annie Ring, After the Stasi: Collaboration and the Struggle for Sovereign Subjectivity in the Writing of German Unification (Bloomsbury Publishing inc., 2015) pp. 141 157 After the opening of the Literat operation, the Stasi gathered a staggering amount of personal files from Hilbig, including correspondences and early literary drafts, and used them to prevent his publication in the GDR (143). 158 Ring, pp. 142-143 50 gathered a significant following, to his superior, the enigmatic Stasi officer Feuerbach. At the same time as this, W. must fight to regain his lost memories and sense of self, a phenomenon which started when he signed on as a collaborator. Given the context of Hilbig’s background with the Stasi, it becomes evident that large portions of the text are based on Hilbig’s experience.

This novel is complex in its narrative and characterization. Themes grappling with what it means to be an IM are the most immediately recognizable in the text. First and foremost, the loss of self working as an IM. W. states that memory of his life before knowing Feuerbach is hazy:

For me the time before Feuerbach lay fully in the dark of oblivion…it had slipped

from my grasp entirely, so far beyond the pale that I hardly counted it as part of

my real life; over it hung a grey, hectically woven web of language which in fact I

could describe as an impregnable fabric of simulation.159

The Stasi had taken over W.’s life entirely, to the point that he could no longer identify his “ich,” a sense of self beyond what the Stasi created for him. W. likens it to a “sleep phase,” where his perception of time became blurred.160 The only times that W. slightly emerges from this sleep state are the times that he is away from the Stasi for extended periods, though he never regains his full sense of self and the sleep state inevitably returns. At one point it was so severe that W. believes he did not get any real sleep for a period of weeks to months.161

The Stasi as an all-encompassing figure in W.’s life is also shown by his mistrust of things that do not involve them. He describes a “profound distrust of all perceptions and at the same time his memory which stored these perceptions.”162 Before moving to Berlin, W.

159 Wolfgang Hilbig, “I”, tr. Isabel Fargo Cole (Seagull Books, 2015) pp. 41 160 Hilbig, pp. 83 161 Hilbig, pp. 84 162 Hilbig, pp. 88 51

originally spied for the Stasi in his tiny hometown of A.163 At a time in which the Stasi did not

talk to him as regularly as before, W. questions whether chance meetings with acquaintances had

truly occurred, simply because the Stasi did not ask who he met with. The Stasi have become a

sort of guiding light for the very basis of his reality, without them he cannot trust what he sees.

Hilbig’s writing style denotes the loss of self in several ways. The book begins narrated in the first person and then transitions to third person mid page only approximately forty pages in. From there, the bulk of the book is narrated in third person, only to switch back to first for the final third of the book. This writing style demonstrates W.’s loss of self, as if he is no longer capable of telling his story at that point. It creates more distance between the reader and W.’s thoughts, simulating how W. feels. The name “W.” is also proof of this dissonance. It is as if he is no longer aware of his true name, only going by an initial. Later, with the introduction of his code name, Cambert, it becomes even more confusing. The narrative shifts to referring to him as

“C.” for long stretches, further complicating his identity.

The Stasi officers that W. must work under are all portrayed as manipulative in obtaining their goals. In this manipulation, it is also revealed that the goals of the Stasi are not always first and foremost the safety of the state. W. is used as a mere tool, initially against his will. This was first shown in his first interactions with the service. He is named, incorrectly, as the father of his ex-lover’s child while living in A. When the Stasi become aware, they use this knowledge to blackmail him into performing further surveillance. They threaten him with the potential payments and imply telling his mother about the paternity scandal.164

163 Hilbig’s description of A. looks very much like Monika Maron’s of B. in Flugasche. 164 Hilbig, pp. 72-73 52

Later, they pivot to veiled threats. His superior, who goes unnamed in the book, heavily implies he could be arrested for his writing activities, mentioning that the same has recently happened to two other authors. After introducing the threat of arrest, the boss offers to do him favors if he is arrested.165 This is the Stasi creating a problem in someone’s life and simultaneous offering a solution to that problem, in return for service.

In a much later example, in Berlin, Feuerbach is overtly manipulative in his quest to incriminate W.’s old friend Harry Falbe.166 Feuerbach long suspects Falbe of wishing to escape to the west but has no evidence. Despite hearing from W. that Falbe no longer wishes to do so, and indeed has committed no crimes against the SED in some time, Feuerbach requests that W. tries to push Falbe into writing again or coerce members of the literary scene to go west with him.167 This all, of course, now entails entrapment. It demonstrates that Feuerbach’s aims are not truly to uphold laws, rather to punish specific people no matter the cost. He is willing to manipulate those people or their acquaintances to achieve this end.

Later, W. discovers that Feuerbach eventually caught up with Falbe and took him in for an interview. During that interview, Feuerbach attempts to get Falbe to admit that he is gay. He screams at him and threatens him at gunpoint. This shows Feuerbach trying to find leverage on

Falbe to make him more manipulable, much like was done with W. and the child. He is willing to create this leverage out of nothing. Feuerbach’s ultimate goal is just to get more people to do his bidding. With so many people planning to go west in the GDR, there is no reason that

165 Hilbig, pp. 94 166 It is implied that Harry Falbe might be the actual father of the child W. is coerced with. 167 Hilbig, pp. 148 53

Feuerbach should go through such pains to catch one other than the fact that he believes he’d be

a good informant.168

The final novel is quite different from the previous two in tone. A satire, Helden wie wir

is more overtly comedic than the other two books but still demonstrates some similar themes

within, albeit presented in a very different way.

Incompetence and Mundanity in Helden wie wir

Thomas Brussig is best known for works of satire that were published after the Wende. A

relative unknown until the publication of Helden wie wir in 1995, Brussig grew up in East Berlin

and worked a number of odd jobs before studying sociology at Freie Universität Berlin in 1990.

His first written work, Wasserfarben, was published under a pseudonym in 1991. Helden wie wir

was published in a time of upheaval in the newly reunited Germany, with new revelations about

the actions of the Stasi still being uncovered. The book was therefore subject to much critical

attention, given its subject matter. It soon became a bestseller, owing to its unique style and fresh

take on the subject matter.169

Helden wie wir is a comedic and satirical portrayal of the Stasi and its actions in GDR

society. Klaus Uhltzscht is a young Stasi trainee suffering from a serious case of arrested

development, courtesy of his overbearing parents. Desiring fame and fortune (to a delusional

degree), Klaus decides to join the Stasi, following in his father’s footsteps. What he finds within

168 This sentiment is echoed by W.’s landlady on pp. 156 169 Kristie Foell and Jill Twark, “‘Bekentnisse des Stasi-Hochstaplers Klaus Uhltzscht‘: Thomas Brussig’s Comical and Controversial Helden wie wir“ in German Writers and the Politics of Culture: Dealing with the Stasi, ed. Paul Cooke and Andrew Plowman (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003) pp. 173 54

is not what he expected. At the same time, Klaus deals with constant sexual hang-ups and

fantasies, defaulting to perversion and depravity on this front.

From the outset, Brussig demonstrates that the people who join the Stasi often did not

have the best interest of the GDR and its citizens at heart. Klaus is built as a negative personality

from the beginning of the book. Even his name sounds unpleasant, something Klaus himself

notes throughout. At the very best, Klaus is generally incompetent, both socially and

professionally. An example is his mistaking the word Mikrofiche for his own invented word

Mikrofische, referring to semen. He routinely misinterprets his division’s mission with that

mistake in mind.170

He also routinely displays megalomania, sometimes to an extreme degree. Every small

success that he encounters adds to his own personal legend, reinforcing his delusional beliefs

about himself. Klaus did not join the Stasi to help others, he did it to assuage his own ego and

impress others. He regularly refers to himself as a “future Nobel laureate,” stemming from when

he was featured on a science magazine cover at nine years old, having taken part in an

exhibition.171 It becomes obvious that he joined the exhibition in an attempt to gain the favor of

his cold-hearted father, which carries over to his decision to join the Stasi. His father, a Stasi

officer himself, shows constant disappointment in his son, belittling all his efforts to curry favor.

Klaus aspires to be an officer cadet in his senior year of school on his father’s orders.172

Something Brussig makes very clear is the fact that the Stasi is representative of GDR society as a whole. This means that the Stasi and its actions were not simple abberations from the

170 Thomas Brussig, Heroes Like Us, tr. John Brownjohn (Berlin: Verlag Volk und Welt, 1997) pp. 206 171 Brussig, pp. 9-10 172 Brussig, pp. 87 55 normal, they grew from the innate desires of the common people in the GDR. Ordinary people in the text commonly display attributes common in Stasi officers. For example, he recounts how children are indoctrinated into socialist values in school, and how the speech of the teachers reflected a strong degree of paranoia. This is shown by one civics teacher that states “At what point has the enemy managed to infiltrate your mind? None of you will get a bad grade save those who refuse to acknowledge the possibility of enemy subversion.”173 This talk of

“subversion” and vague, undefined enemies that threaten their every move is indicative of Stasi- like thinking by those in the school system.

Klaus’s views on human rights are evident of the values in GDR society. He says “I didn’t have the first idea what they were! I couldn’t be deprived of something I’d never possessed, nor could something nonexistent be trampled underfoot.”174 The Stasi did not take rights away from the GDR, they did it to themselves. Human rights did not exist in that society in the first place, so the Stasi can’t be blamed for all societal ills. Klaus, in narration, states that

GDR society was misanthropic. It made people “love what they should have hated.”175 In stating this, Klaus is arguing that ordinary people in the GDR cannot push all the blame for wrongdoing onto the Stasi, as a scapegoat.

Continuing from an idea expressed earlier, the Stasi (like other, average civilians) are portrayed as paranoid in Helden wie wir. This is a commonality with much literature released at this time. In this book, the paranoia of the Stasi shows itself through the words and actions of

Klaus’ father, Eberhard. Eberhard is presented as the ideal Stasi officer in the text; stern and secretive, even with his own family. Eberhard’s paranoia especially shows through when news of

173 Brussig, pp. 86 174 Brussig, pp. 82 175 Brussig, pp. 84 56

Klaus’ first sexual experience reaches him. His mother expresses the usual worry about venereal

diseases, but Eberhard’s reasoning reads as much more manic. He wonders about the girl

“Perhaps Fräulein Kropf wishes to quit our Democratic Republic. Perhaps she owes it no

allegiance. It’s always possible-the boy scarcely knows her, after all.”176

Eberhard has no basis for this suspicion, given that he also does not know the girl.

Further, he has no proof to support these suspicions. There is no logical reason why this threat should hang in his head, therefore this demonstrates a persistent paranoia surrounding potential enemies. He expresses worry over potential blackmail from this woman, fearing that if she became pregnant, she could use the baby to manipulate Klaus.177 He states of Klaus “He grossly

underestimates the enemy threat! Grossly!”178 For Eberhard, and indeed the Stasi, anyone could

be the enemy, even a completely random person about whom they know nothing.

Finally, the actions and members of the Stasi are also portrayed as very mundane,

especially in the latter half of the book. Throughout the narrative, Klaus expects big things from

the secretive organization. He expects to be able to make a name for himself and embark on

adventurous secret missions upon which the fate of the entire country rests. During his training,

he notices that his fellow officer cadets are not nearly as impressive as he imagined they would

be. He states, “Incorrigible masturbators and other dregs of society couldn’t possibly be in the

Stasi.”179 He is so shocked that he constantly second guesses whether he is actually training for

the “real” Stasi. His fellow cadets are like normal teenage boys. They brag about pocketknives,

176 Brussig, pp. 108. This refers to Marina Kropf, who Klaus has a casual sexual encounter with only hours after meeting her. 177 Much like the Stasi did with W. in “Ich”. 178 Brussig, pp. 110 179 Brussig, pp. 95 57 talk about girls, and masturbate just like anyone else their age. This breaks Klaus’ idealized version of Stasi spies.

After graduating training, what Klaus finds waiting for him at his first assignment is anything but exciting and adventurous. It is a normal office, built to look exactly like an office of the Periodicals Postal Subscription Service.180 Not only does it look exactly like a normal office, it functions like one too. This is ostensibly an attempt to appear 100 percent authentic to the public. Klaus must do such banal things as hand out subscription applications and point customers to relevant post offices. He is also required to run laps with his coworkers, something that displeases him immensely.181

Klaus’ coworkers surprise him too. These are not hard boiled, intelligent, dangerous spies as he imagined Stasi officers must be. Rather, he finds a group of rather mild-mannered men working the job as if it were a normal nine to five. Gerd Grabs is a normal family man with a fixation on names that start with G and Martin Eulert is openly unintelligent and nearly incomprehensible in his pseudo philosophical musings. Klaus states at one point, “Whatever I was in, it couldn’t be the Stasi, which was omniscient, omnideceptive, and referred to only in whispers. My colleagues were simply men who munched pretzels and exercised once a day.”182

The operative words in that statement are “simply men.”

Finally, the actual clandestine assignments that Klaus is given prove to also be mundane, or at least different from what he expects. He invents more exciting missions in his head because the reality often proves disappointing. During one mission, Klaus and his coworkers kidnap a

180 This is where people in the GDR would manage their subscriptions to various periodicals sent over mail. 181 Brussig, pp. 121 182 Brussig, pp. 123 58 child to scare a source into compliance. This simply involves picking the child up from school and taking her to a safe house. Once there, Klaus keeps her busy by playing games with her. He cheats at all the games to ensure she never wins.183 This mission is far from the high-minded, idealistic crusades that Klaus imagines embarking on. It is pointless and cruel, and Klaus even joins in on the cruelty when he cheats against the child. He later feels great guilt for this.

His other assignments include observing a subject codenamed “Harpoon” for hours, as well as raiding his mailbox. Both actions lead to nothing.184 Later, Klaus is chosen for a special assignment. He believes that this will be a high-risk mission, in which he carries the hopes of the organization on his back. In reality, he is simply chosen to donate blood. Luckily for Klaus’ ego, though, it turns out he donated to Erich Honecker himself.185 Despite this fact, donating blood still does not represent the kind of mission that Klaus knew the Stasi for.

All of the examples of mundanity in the text are Thomas Brussig taking the old mysticism away from the Stasi and dispelling the mystery surrounding its members. He shows that the Stasi was simply made up of ordinary East Germans who treated the organization like any other day job. These were not the shadow monsters as described in literature before the

Wende, they were just men and thus not to be feared anymore. Their actions were usually pointless, even silly, driven by a delusional paranoia.

Finally, an underlying theme throughout the book is motherhood, and the influence of mothers on the minds of their children. In Klaus’ case, his mother stumped his sexual development with her severe opposition to masturbation and sexual maturity. This leads to

183 Brussig, pp. 185 184 Brussig, pp. 149 185 Brussig, pp. 214 59

Klaus’ out of control perversion, as well as acting out sexual fantasies to the point that it effects

his job performance. In in interesting example near the end of the book, Klaus witnesses Christa

Wolf’s famous November 4th speech at Alexanderplatz, mistaking her for figure skating coach

Jutta Müller, his mother’s idol.

This connection to his mother sours him against the speech. He specifically draws

problems with Wolf’s invocation of a new, free language. Klaus (and by extension, Thomas

Brussig) brings attention to the fact that language seems a rather ineffectual thing to rally for in a

revolution, sort of stating that Wolf was divorced from the concerns of commoners. She doesn’t

recognize that the people need something more concrete than language. Klaus thinks “how could

anyone talk about language on such a day? Why not about the weather and have done with it?

That at least would have been consistently inconsistent!”186 This tirade against Müller (actually

Wolf) shows Brussig’s true feelings on socialism in general. Klaus disparages Wolf’s desire for a

socialism where nobody leaves, with Klaus referring to the entire speech as “socialist hocus

pocus.”187 He accuses her, in general, of dreaming too small, resigning herself to socialism rather

than dreaming of more. He states that “they all got blind drunk on the contents of a capacious

bottle labeled SOCIALISM. It kept them warm, and even today they still rhapsodize about ‘true

socialism’ when what they really mean is their campfire emotions.”188

Generally, building from the themes of motherhood, Brussig seems to portray the Stasi in

a motherly way. Through the plot and the actions of the organization, he shows the Stasi as a

domineering mother, like Klaus’ own, that constantly checks on its children, the people of the

GDR, to make sure that they are not engaging in forbidden behavior, signified by masturbation

186 Brussig, pp. 229 187 Brussig, pp. 234 188 Ibid 60 and sex in the case of Klaus. This extreme paranoia coupled with policies that show a distrust of average citizens causes the GDR to be portrayed as a nanny state, with the Stasi playing the role of the nanny.

Conclusions

As reported earlier, the Stasi occupied the imagination of the literary sphere in several ways during the immediate post-Wende period. Germany society and the international community at large grappled with the implications of mass surveillance, including friends and colleagues that reported against each other. Much literature during this period engaged with the idea of unofficial informers and what drove them to work with the Stasi against those that trusted them. One of the most immediate progressions made in the depiction of the Stasi during the post-

Wende period is the introduction of the Stasi as a protagonist. Both fictional works presented in this chapter have Stasi agents or informers as their central character. Due to the amount of new information about the organization available, as well as the disappearance of the threat they posed, made this development possible.

The introduction of the Stasi as a protagonist then led to more changes in the depiction of the organization. Some authors, like Thomas Brussig, chose to take the mystery and menace away from the Stasi, and portray its officials as paranoid, bumbling fools. This is a way of rejecting its previous control over the literary sphere by showing that it was not “omniscient, omnideceptive, and referred to only in whispers.”189 This portrayal is a direct rejection of the

Cold War portrayal of the Stasi as an unknowable force of nature.

189 Brussig, pp. 61

Other authors took a far more negative and menacing approach. Wolfgang Hilbig showed the Stasi as an immoral organization that took over the lives of its agents and informers in fundamental ways. This is a continuation of certain themes presented in Monika Maron’s

Flugasche, with focus on the reach of the Stasi into the personal lives of GDR citizens. A difference is that Hilbig ponders the ultimate goals of the Stasi, and how effective it actually was.

For Hilbig, the Stasi did not represent an organization with the goal of security for the nation.

Rather, it was a group that menaced other people for its own ends, sometimes inventing charges against others when it was beneficial.

Finally, works of non-fiction such as The File endeavored to understand the reasoning behind Stasi officers and informers, in an attempt to uncover a raison d’être of sorts. The Stasi, as portrayed by those who worked for it, was an organization full of people who were certain that threats lurked around every corner and believed, to a delusional extent, that they were both necessary and welcome among the populace. Unofficial informers are shown to be complicated.

Some joined because of blackmail, others out of professional obligation. Ultimately, all chose to inform rather than seek other recourse. These people are conflicted, and ambiguously guilt ridden because of their actions, but still attempt to pass the blame to others for their own actions.

They have not found closure within their own minds for their actions.

As time goes on, the mysteries of the Stasi continue to be uncovered. Artists in the twenty-first century continue to occupy themselves with the Stasi, which leads to controversies among those that were menaced by the organization.

62

CHAPTER 3: THE LEGACY OF THE STASI IN THE 21ST CENTURY

Gregor Gysi and the Issue with Prosecution

Controversy involving the Stasi has continued long after the dissolution of the

organization. This is unsurprising considering the reach of the Stasi at its peak during the life of

the GDR, specifically its utilization of the public against each other. As noted in the previous

chapter, much of the controversy surrounding the Stasi post-Wende involved the citizens of the

former GDR coming to terms with the fact that many of their friends and loved ones were spying

on them, sometimes for decades. This controversy did not end with the 90s. The files contained

by the Stasi Unterlagen Behörde (Stasi Records Agency) constitute a staggering 111 kilometers,

which means that discoveries are still being made well into the 21st century about people that

either worked for the Stasi in a literal sense, meaning as a salaried employee, or those who

collaborated will them, either willingly or not.

A phenomenon that has arisen in more recent years is the difficulty with punishment.

Many feel that former Stasi officers and informers deserve punishment of some sort but attempts

to achieve this have been met with legal resistance. Author John Koehler states that the Stasi and

its members were suspected in “73 murders, 30 attempted murders, 583 cases of manslaughter,

2,938 instances of attempted manslaughter, and 425 other suspicious deaths.”190 Some did meet

legal repercussions, such as former collaborator Peter Haak, whose attempted murder led to a

six-and-a-half-year prison sentence.191

190 John Koehler, Stasi: The Untold Story of the East German Secret Police (Boulder: Westview Press, 1999) pp. 12 191 Koehler, pp. 12. Haak was involved in an operation tracking people that helped East Germans flee the country. He attempted to poison one such person and his family, but failed. 63

Largely, though, the statute of limitations on cases of espionage caused problems in even trying most cases in the first place, especially in the final years of the 90s. Koehler notes that in a six-year period 6,641 investigations were launched into the actions of former Stasi employees and collaborators for crimes involving espionage. Of these investigations, more than half were thrown out because the statute of limitations had passed, being only five years. Of 175 actual indictments, only 95 produced convictions.192

Another of the most enduring issues in prosecuting former Stasi officials is the fact that their actions involved upholding the laws of a sovereign state. Koehler notes “Although these laws were designed to smother political dissent and grossly violated basic human rights and democratic norms, they were nonetheless laws promulgated by a sovereign state.”193 This defense is most often cited by the defense attorneys of former communist officials. It was decided in the reunification treaty that any offenses committed in East Germany would have the

GDR legal code applied to them. This meant that while Stasi actions like murder, torture and the like could be tried under the code, political imprisonment could not, leaving thousands of citizens dissatisfied.194

Stasi defenders also continue their work into the present day. After reunification, former

Stasi officials were essentially social poison. They were disgraced in the public sphere and often prevented from holding any jobs other than simple laborers. In the early 90s, a group of ex-Stasi members formed what is called, in short, the Insiderkomitee. The purpose of this group is to lobby for the rights of former Stasi members, mostly relating to accessing their pensions. The group has embarked on legal efforts to this day, though many of their arguments are roundly

192 Koehler, pp. 13 193 Koehler, pp. 14 194 Koehler, pp. 15 64 rejected by courts.195 The group also fulfills a social role, offering a general support system to now ageing ex-Stasi agents.

There are further attempts to engage more actively in the political sphere, but with little success each time.196 In a rare public appearance, members of the group publicly protested a remembrance event at former Stasi prison Hohenschönhausen in 2006. These group members, mostly elderly former Stasi employees according to researcher Amika Bouma, protested what they called “false claims against the Stasi” and demanded that the “real” story of the prison be told. Bouma states that the Insiderkomitee adheres to the belief that most current accusations leveled against the Stasi are exaggerated, and accusations of human rights abuses constitute a smear attempt.197 This group is examined in further detail in Anna Funder’s Stasiland, which will be expounded upon later in this chapter. Though it appears to be a harmless collection of old men, Funder opines otherwise. Notably, John Koehler also expressed doubt about this organization as far back as 1998, labeling disgruntled ex-Stasi employees as a “potential threat.”198

The case of Gregor Gysi is one of the most public examples of the Stasi’s legacy in the present. Gysi was the final chairman of the SED, though at that time it had already lost ruling power. A lawyer in the GDR, Gysi made his reputation defending dissidents that were put on trial by the state, despite his status as a card-carrying member of the SED.199 Post-unification,

195 Amieke Bouma, "Strategies of Complaint: Interest Organizations of GDR Staatssicherheit Coworkers After German Reunification," Laboratorium (2014) pp. 38 196 Bouma, pp. 40 197 Bouma, pp. 41 198 Koehler, pp. 29 199 Paul Hockenos, "Germany's Left Rises Anew," World Policy Journal 26, no. 2 (2009) 65

Gysi was a consistent voice in favor of the “good” aspects of the GDR, though remaining

consistently in favor of major reform.

Allegations of Stasi collaboration emerged as early as 1992 against Gysi. He was

specifically suspected of having reported on his legal clients to the Stasi. Among those clients

was Robert Havemann, mentioned in the first chapter for his connection to Wolf Biermann.200

Upon review of relevant files, Joachim Guack concluded in 1995 that Gysi operated as an IM

codenamed “Notar,” stating “long-standing contacts existed between Dr. Gysi and Department

XX.”201 The evidence, however, was not enough to definitively implicate Gysi, and he escaped

relatively unscathed. Gysi went on to become the head of the SED’s successor party, Partei des

Demokratischen Sozialismus (Party of democratic socialism) until stepping down in 2004 but has

remained the public face of that party’s successor, Die Linke into the present.

Allegations against Gysi have gained strength in the years since the initial revelation. In

2008, more detailed files emerged from the Stasi Unterlagen Behörde that further implicated

Gysi as the true identity of IM “Notar,” just over a year before federal elections to the

Bundestag. Keeping the same stance as in the 90s, Gysi denied wrongdoing. This time, he

claimed that the role of a lawyer in the GDR required him to submit to the wishes of the state,

while still denying direct contact with the Stasi. There was a concerted effort at the time to

transform this event into a sort of “Gysi Affair” in the same vein as the Waldheim Affair in

Austria, an attempt to discredit Die Linke by targeting its public leadership. In the elections,

200 Marcel Fürstenau, “Gregor Gysi and the Stasi’s long shadow,” Deutsche Welle, Feb. 17, 2013. I lean toward trusting Havemann’s allegations, as he was established as a major target of the Stasi during its existence. 201 Fürstenau, “Gregor Gysi” 66

though, Gysi’s Stasi connections were an afterthought, and Die Linke did not suffer for them.202

This was due again to a lack of real “smoking gun” evidence definitively linking Gysi to the

Stasi.

Later, controversy returned in 2013 when more files were uncovered, detailing closer

relations to the Stasi than previously suspected. IM “Notar” received gifts from the Stasi for his

work and met with high-ranking members of the Stasi as late as 1989. Among Gysi’s current

doubters is German chancellor Angela Merkel, who in 1994 signed an appeal with 29 other

members of the Bundestag, promising zero tolerance for Gysi’s historical distortions and

excuses.203

The Stasi and Popular Culture in the 21st Century

With the increased distance from its lifetime, works of culture featuring the Stasi have

remained popular, though with some key differences. The Stasi in works of fiction appear in a

slightly different form compared to before. The key term to keep in mind is “distance.” In the

90s, when revelations about the Stasi and its informants were still new and fresh, works of film

and literature tended to appear in the form of criticism, satire, and works of activism. These

works were created to give a specific message.

With increased distance from reunification, new works featuring the Stasi have tended to

follow a general “spy fiction” approach. In these, the focus is on the investigative aspects of the

Stasi’s work in James Bond or Jason Bourne-esque stories. A salient example of this is a series

of six thriller novels by English author David Young, starting with Stasi Child and its follow-up

202 A. James McAdams, “Transitional Justice and the Politicization of Memory in Post-1989 Europe," In The End and the Beginning: The Revolutions of 1989 and the Resurgence of History, ed. Vladimir Tismaneanu and Bogdan C. Iacob (Budapest; New York: Central European University Press, 2012) pp. 510 203 Fürstenau, “Gregor Gysi” 67

Stasi Wolf, released in 2016 and 2017, respectively. Though the ministry’s controlling nature is an important part of the narrative, the main plotline deals with investigations undertaken by a

Stasi agent, with the mystery aspect taking center stage.

Another example of this is the character Ernst Jürgen in the 2011 thriller film Unknown, directed by Jaume Collet-Serra. In this film, Ernst Jürgen is an ex-Stasi agent working as a private investigator that helps the protagonist with unraveling the central mystery. The central focus of this character is not his past with the Stasi or the morally questionable things that he did, rather the skills he gained from working there.

This chapter will study two specific works that have become modern classics in the realm of the Stasi. These are works from two different media, literature and film. First, Anna Funder’s

Stasiland is a modern example of the aforementioned activist literature, much in the same vein of

Timothy Garton Ash’s The File. Next, Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s Das leben der

Anderen is an academy award nominated look into the life of a high-ranking Stasi agent, which was met with a divided reception from the academic community at the time of its release. Each work shows how the Stasi still has a grip on German life even after its destruction. They also present a view of the Stasi that is novel to the 21st century and shows some development from the previous eras discussed in this paper.

The Firsthand Accounts of Stasiland

Anna Funder is an Australian journalist who lived in Germany shortly after reunification.

Funder states that she was inspired to write the book while working in a television station in the former West Berlin. When a viewer asked why the station never ran stories on East Germany, her bosses claimed that it was because nobody was interested in it. Funder described the general 68 feeling in West Berlin as such: “It was as though the hick cousins, the ones you’re related to but embarrassed by, suddenly come to stay in your house.”204 Funder was made aware of the existence of Stasi victims during her investigation and set out to interview as many as she could find.

Stasiland is a non-fiction work originally published in 2002 that tells the stories of different people that lived in East Berlin. Funder, using an advertisement she placed in a newspaper, was able to interview a variety of people who had some connection to the Stasi. She used these interviews to create a compelling narrative of the Stasi; including the stories of those who supported it and those who were victimized by it. These stories present an interesting kaleidoscope of life in East Berlin and point to the insidious nature of GDR state security.

Funder, in many ways, was uniquely situated to writing this book. In a 2003 interview, she states that because she is not German, ex-Stasi men were more likely to talk to her because they did not detect an overt agenda. Combined with the fact that she speaks German fluently, she was able to maintain bonds of trust with her interviewees.205

Certain themes emerge from the stories presented within the narrative that point to larger ideas about the Stasi in general. The first that will be presented are commonalities within the stories of the victims. Generally, the victims came from all levels of GDR society. They all show signs that their experiences have scarred them in different ways. One major recurring theme points to a sort of pettiness that existed within the Stasi. Most of the people that were victimized by the Stasi in the book initially caught their attention through pure misunderstanding or by committing acts that today would seem benign. Interestingly, almost all these people were

204 Sarah Coleman, “Adventures in Stasiland: Interview with Anna Funder,” World Press Review, June 16, 2003 205 Coleman, “Adventures in Stasiland” 69

pushed into committing worse offenses after having been persecuted for these benign acts.

Through this, the Stasi created more of the problems that they were attempting to solve.

One example of this pettiness is the initial story of Miriam, who tells Funder that she

became an enemy of the state at the age of only sixteen. Miriam, angered by the destruction of a

church in Leipzig in 1968, circulated leaflets calling for the government consultation of civilians.

Funder conveys her surprise during her interview with Miriam “’It seems so harmless,’ I say.

Miriam comes back quiet but strong. ‘At that time it was not harmless. It was the crime of

sedition.’” 206 Because of the simple act of placing leaflets in the wrong mailbox, Miriam was

met with a full search team at her house. She and her friends each were placed in solitary

confinement for a month, before they confessed. Miriam later committed the far more serious

offense of attempting to flee over the wall to avoid a sham trial, which ultimately was the fault of

the Stasi.207

Miriam’s late husband, Charlie, was also arrested purely out of misunderstanding.

Following an innocent contest with a friend to swim out to a boat off the coast of the Baltic Sea,

Charlie was arrested on suspicion of attempting to flee the country. Previously a teacher,

Charlie’s faith in the system was shaken by this experience, and he quit his job to begin writing

subversive articles for publication in the west. For this, he came under Stasi surveillance.208 Just

like the case with Miriam, Charlie’s actual crime was the fault of the Stasi. Had he not been

needlessly arrested, he would not have been pushed into writing.

206 Anna Funder, Stasiland: Stories From Behind the Berlin Wall Epub Edition (HarperCollins, 2011) pp. 49. Page numbers are variable in this ebook. These are approximations based on the orientation and size of the text. 207 Funder, pp. 52 208 Funder, pp. 88 70

The next example of pettiness within the Stasi borders on comical. Hagen Koch was a formerly loyal Stasi officer that worked the wall as a guard. He became disillusioned with the

Stasi after his father was fired from his job simply because a visit from his grandfather was not reported to the Stasi. When Koch handed in a letter of resignation, he was arrested the same day for “Preparation and Reproduction of Pornographic Material.”209 Funder notes that this material was just a caricature drawing of a bride and groom, fully clothed. The Stasi seemingly introduced the charges just to get back at Koch for choosing to resign. They also manipulated his wife into divorcing him, then made him rescind his resignation.

Once again, these actions drive Koch to do something else subversive. When he was forbidden from attending his father’s funeral, he applied to leave his regiment. When he left, he took a small award plate off the wall of the office and brought it with him, a small form of revenge. Once again, the pettiness of the Stasi showed when, over the next weeks they went to his apartment and called him, trying to get the insignificant plate back. They even created a

“Working Group on Plate Re-Procurement,” which seems a waste of Stasi time and resources.

He even got a visit from the district attorney regarding the plate before they finally left him alone. 210

Julia, Funder’s landlady in former East Berlin, tells of her own experience with the Stasi, and how a simple misunderstanding led to her ruin. When she was young, she had an Italian boyfriend, of whom her parents generally disapproved. The man had no overt connections to subversive groups, but still brought heavy Stasi surveillance onto Julia whenever he visited, courtesy of him simply being from a non-socialist country. Her connection to this Italian left her

209 Funder, pp. 414 210 Funder, pp. 427 71 with harsh consequences as well. She was sent away to a boarding school by the authorities for no reason and was unable to secure a job in any field, despite being fully qualified and impressing in interviews.211 This professional blacklisting continued long after Julia had broken up with this man.

Julia’s story, however, also contains one of the few times someone “won” against the

Stasi. Julia and her family threatened to personally write to Erich Honecker to complain of the actions of the local Stasi branch, after a Major N. brought Julia in and tried to strong-arm her into informing for him with veiled threats against her family. Ultimately, the strategy of calling N.’s bluff worked, as he and the Stasi backed down, and Julia was almost immediately approached about a job.212

In describing the various officers of the Stasi that she interviewed, Funder sometimes depicts a kind of cavalier attitude that they hold about the work they used to do. They show a lack of remorse, instead thinking back to their previous job with pride. They also tend to show a lingering attachment to their previous job with what they choose to do in the present. One example did not come from a direct interview with the man himself, rather Julia’s description of

Major N. In her interrogation, Major N. relishes reading letters she had written to her boyfriend in front of her, even making her participate at certain points. These letters contained very intimate language. Funder writes “I think of the shame I would feel sitting opposite Major So- and-So in his office, with these intimate things in his fingers. Shame at hearing your words turn into the universal banalities of love in his mouth.”213

211 Funder, pp. 251 212 Funder, pp. 284 213 Funder, pp. 264 72

One of the clearest examples of this phenomenon is her interview with Herr Winz, an ex-

Stasi officer and current member of the previously mentioned Insiderkomitee. Winz shows no

remorse for his actions in the Stasi, and still operates as if he is a spy, hiding his car when they

meet and generally acting suspicious. He proudly shows off a paper he wrote for the

Insiderkomitee and tells her only about “the excellent work-the masterful work-of the Stasi in

counter-espionage.”214 Winz was convinced that reunified Germany is “on its last legs,” and that

a second revolution would be coming, ushering socialism back to the forefront.215 This brings to

mind the words of Gerhard Kaulfuss from the previous chapter “It can’t go on like this, I tell

you, and when the call comes for us to take to the streets, we’ll be there.”216

Funder is especially critical of the Insiderkomitee in this section. She states that while it is

outwardly a just a support organization, it is also widely suspected of harassing people that could

expose the identities of its members. This went so far as kidnapping and murders, made to look like accidents. Funder notices that many of these actions represent continuations of what members of the Insiderkomitee did as Stasi officers. Herr Winz dances around questions regarding these actions, stating that he is only a “small fish.”217 She depicts the Insiderkomitee as

simultaneously dangerous and silly. She describes the organization as “Wannabe victims of

democracy and the rule of law.”218

Another ex-Stasi officer is Herr Christian. He is described as polite and energetic, more

than willing to discuss his time with the organization. He projects a similar confidence to the

other officers, with Funder stating that he “has a sense of fun about what he did with the

214 Funder, pp. 206 215 Funder, pp. 211 216 Timothy Garton Ash, The File: A Personal History (New York: Vintage Books, 1997) pp. 185 217 Funder, pp. 206 218 Funder, pp. 205 73

Stasi.”219 He happily recounts getting to dress up in disguises and tells Funder of his favorites to use. At the time of the interview, he worked as a private detective. He says “I’m pretty much doing the same job I did back then. In this, my second life.”220 The term “second life” is an interesting one. It is as if when the Stasi exited his life, he was reborn as a new person. Despite this, he is still drawn to the same job as before. Despite the decidedly worse nature of their activities, it is similar to what the Insiderkomitee busied itself with.

Finally, Herr Bock was a Stasi instructor who specialized in the recruitment of IMs.

Funder states that Bock showed great pride in describing his work, that recruitment was his passion. He proudly states that the Stasi was “supremely effective” in recruiting IMs within the churches, having 65% of church leaders in their employ.221 Bock worked for West German firms that purchased East German assets, as a sort of cultural intermediary to facilitate the sale.222

Funder notes that even this is similar to his old job of reading people and convincing them to do something. She also states that the same is true of many ex-Stasi employees, who got jobs in insurance, telemarketing, and real estate, writing “None of these businesses existed in the GDR.

But the Stasi were, in effect, trained for them, schooled in the art of convincing people to do things against their own self-interest.”223

Despite the shared theme of pride in their work and an outward lack of shame, it should be noted that the Stasi officers are nonetheless depicted as individuals. They have distinct personalities and loyalties, even with the Stasi. Those that worked in foreign intelligence are favored—Markus Wolf over Erich Mielke, for example. Certain officers, like Hagen Koch,

219 Funder, pp. 361 220 Funder, pp. 365 221 Funder, pp. 471 222 Funder, pp. 481 223 Funder, pp. 482 74

turned against the Stasi, and objected to its methods while still an employee. Essentially, Stasi

employees are seen as human, albeit flawed. The next work that will be studied depicts a similar

humanization, for which it received much critical attention.

The Divided Reception of Das Leben der Anderen

Story and themes

Das Leben der Anderen is a 2006 film directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck. It

tells the story of a Stasi officer named Gerd Wiesler, who directs a surveillance operation against

a well-known GDR playwright, Georg Dreyman. Wiesler, in observing multiple scenes of love

and support, as well as learning about the nature of his operation, eventually warms to Dreyman

and his lover, and betrays the Stasi to help them escape punishment. This is not the first film to

feature the Stasi. In the 90s, film adaptations of Thomas Brussig’s Helden wie wir and Erich

Loest’s seminal Wende novel Nikolaikirche were released.224 This, however, is among the first

original screenplays to do so.

Henckel entered this project desiring total historical authenticity. Prior to the release of

Das Leben der Anderen, other films about the GDR such as Good Bye, Lenin! (2003) and

Sonnenallee (1999) took a more comedic tone, pointing out the idiosyncrasies about the society

without focusing too heavily on any negatives.225 Das Leben der Anderen was therefore intended

to give an honest view on the negative side of the GDR. The desire for authenticity took several

forms during the production of the film. Henckel, as well as the prop master, insisted on using

224 Helden wie wir was directed by Sebastian Peterson and released in 1999. Nikolaikirche was directed by Frank Beyer (who was mentioned in the first chapter) and released in 1995. I considered Erich Loest’s Nikolaikirche for coverage in this paper, but ultimately chose to leave it out due to its disproportionate length compared to other fictional works that I studied. 225 Sonnenalle, directed by Leander Haußmann, was written by Thomas Brussig and served as the basis for his 1999 novel Am kürzeren Ende der Sonnenallee, which features the same characters but a very different plot. 75

authentic Stasi recording and surveillance instruments. For example, the set up in Gerd’s attic

surveillance center was made up entirely of real pieces of Stasi equipment, donated from

museums and private collections. The machine that opens letters using steam, featured at the end

of the film, was also a real artifact from the Stasi.226

The desire for authenticity reached the film’s cast and crew as well. The aforementioned

prop master spent two years in a Stasi prison, and therefore endeavored to get everything exactly

right. The late Ulrich Mühe, who plays the protagonist, Gerd Wiesler, was a well-known stage

actor in the GDR and was the subject of heavy surveillance by the Stasi because of his position

in society. After the Wende, he accused his second wife, actress Jenny Gröllmann, of working for

the Stasi for many years. Mühe drew his accusations from a file drawn up by Stasi major Helmut

Menge, in which he references an IM with the codename “Jeanne.” This code name, when

combined with further context clues, clearly refers to Gröllmann.227

Mühe identified two others by name that spied on him for the Stasi: actors Günter

Falkenau and Johanna Glas.228 Regarding Gröllmann, he stated that she reported on everything

from forbidden contact between citizens of East and West Germany to the general moods that

permeated acting and theatrical circles. IM Jeanne did not only pass vague, general information-

she also gave very concrete details on GDR citizens, details that often were incriminating. Mühe

was careful to note, however, that he never found references to Gröllmann within his own files

and that no reports on him were found in those of IM Jeanne, indicating that she never reported

226 Wendy Westphal, “’Truer than the Real Thing’: ‘Real’ and ‘Hyperreal’ Representations of the Past in ‘Das Leben der Anderen’” German Studies Review 35, no. 1 (2012) pp. 101 227 Markus Deggerich and Peter Wensierski, “Das Drehbuch der anderen,“ Der Spiegel, April 26, 2006 228 Lars-Olav Beier and Matthias Matussek, “Kunst ist eine subversive Kraft,“ Der Spiegel, March 20, 2006 76

on him to the Stasi.229 Mühe related this information in various interviews before his July 2007

death from stomach cancer, including in the extra features included with DVD copies of the film.

Gröllmann strongly denied the allegations leveled against her, writing “Ich habe zu

keiner zeit wissentlich mit dem Ministerium für Staatssicherheit der ehemaligen GDR zusammengearbeitet (I, at no time, knowingly worked together with the Ministry of State

Security of the former GDR.)”230 She took the matter to court, represented by Gregor Gysi.

Notably, after having contact with Gysi, Helmut Menge claimed that he met with Gröllmann

under false pretenses, claiming to be a normal detective, thus proving her assertation that she did

not knowingly inform.231 Eventually Gysi won the case for Gröllmann by getting Menge to

admit that he fabricated the written agreement between Gröllmann and the Stasi. This revelation

is complicated by the fact that Menge changed his story several times, and, according to Mühe,

appeared to be a member of the Insiderkomitee. Due to the outcome of this trial, Henckel was

forced to remove any material referring to Gröllmann as an IM from the DVD package of Das

Leben der Anderen.232

The film does a number of things that fall in line with other conventions presented thus far. As previously stated, the main focus of this film for Henckel was authenticity, which means

much emphasis is given to closely examining Stasi techniques of surveillance and interrogation.

This falls in line with Anna Funder’s tendency to present the same in Stasiland. One notable

scene at the beginning of Das Leben der Anderen shows off multiple interrogation techniques,

229 Deggerich and Wensierski, “Das Drehbuch der Anderen“ 230 Ibid 231 Ibid 232 “Keine DVD von Stasi-Drama,“ Der Tagesspiegel, Jan. 17, 2007 77

and some interesting camera tricks to throw them in sharper relief. Gerd Wiesler is an

experienced interrogator, even teaching interrogation techniques at a Stasi college.233

The film specifically depicts the use of sleep deprivation as torture, to try to rattle

suspects being interrogated. Though it was not directly shown, the movie employs some camera

tricks to show this. During Wiesler’s class, he plays tape of an interrogation that he conducted of

a man suspected of aiding escapees to the west. The scene switches back and forth between this

interrogation inside Hohenschönhausen Prison and the class that Wiesler is teaching. In the start

of the interrogation, the sun shines through the window to the left of the suspect, and the suspect

himself appears alert and prepared for Wiesler’s questions. This establishes a time of day. Inside

the class, Wiesler mentions that sleep deprivation is their standard technique for extracting

information from unwilling subjects. The camera centers on the tape as he skips forward in it,

demonstrating that it is quite large, clearly having quite a lot recorded. The scene quickly cuts

back to the interrogation, where it is now clearly nighttime out the window. A small lamp on the

table provides the only light source, throwing harsh light on the side of the suspect’s face. The

man now appears disheveled and weary, clearly in a compromised state.234

Another of the most common activities of the Stasi was the bugging of homes and businesses. Henckel takes care to depict this in detail as well, in a scene beginning at the 20:30

mark of the film. Wiesler has been ordered to bug the apartment of prominent GDR playwright

Georg Dreyman, in the twenty minutes that he is absent from it. During that time, closeups

reveal what the bugs look like and where they choose to hide them, in this case usually behind

wall outlets. It shows that bugging was a job that necessitated a whole team, led by Wiesler. This

233 The Stasi maintained its own in-hause university, Hochschule des Ministeriums für Staatssicherheit in the University of Potsdam 234 Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, dir, Das Leben der Anderen, 2006; Buena Vista International, 2006 78

team entered the apartment using lockpicks, something Wiesler will commonly use throughout

the rest of the film. The team also entered the building without bothering to wear disguises or hide from the tenants, something one might see in a similar scene in a spy film. This is a demonstration of supreme confidence on the part of the officers in the power the Stasi wields. A clearer demonstration of this comes from the 22:50 mark of the film, at the end of the bugging scene. Wiesler notices a neighbor, Frau Meineke, watching the team through her peep hole. He walks right to the door and knocks to bring her out. He then states “Ein wort zu irgendwem und

ihre Masha verliert morgen ihren Medizin-Studienplatz (One word to anyone, and tomorrow

your Masha loses her spot in studying medicine.)”235 This is a show of power, a sort of

demonstration of the influence the Stasi had. This was also a common usage of blackmail that

the Stasi used against people in reality. These efforts against Dreyman are a direct depiction of

Zersetzungsmaßnahmen, which before the Wende were only hinted at, such as in Flugasche.

With more information on Stasi methods, Henckel was able to more accurate portray exactly

how the Stasi went about these “decomposition measures.”

The most controversial theme in the film is the humanization of the Stasi through the

central character, Gerd Wiesler. The film depicts Stasi employees as individuals, people who

treat the Stasi as a normal job. This, again, falls in line with general themes from Stasiland. The

portion that is controversial is the choice to make Gerd Wiesler a sympathetic, eventually heroic

character. Wiesler begins the film acting as almost a machine. He is emotionless, blank faced,

and with no remarkable features about him. Compared to his coworkers, his entire life seems to

be his work with the Stasi. A good demonstration of this comes at the 17:30 mark of the film.

235 Von Donnersmarck, Das Leben der Anderen. This translation is an approximation, as studienplatz roughly means a student’s admitted spot in a program of study, something English doesn’t have one term for. 79

Wiesler enters his apartment alone, and as he moves into the kitchen the camera does not follow

him, rather it executes a slow pan around his apartment, showing how barren and dull it is. Even

the meal he makes for himself, white rice with what looks like tomato paste, is dull and

boring.236

Wiesler’s transformation is executed gradually throughout the film. There are hints

throughout that show that he was never truly emotionless, rather emotionally stunted. A clear

example is the fact that he occasionally spends money on prostitutes. On one such occasion, he

desperately tells the woman “Bleib du noch etwas bei mir (stay with me for a while)” after they

finish having sex, which shows a high degree of loneliness in Wiesler. He desires connection

with a woman but owing to his unusual career has no idea how to find it normally. When she

responds negatively, saying “Das nächste Mal länger buchen (Next time book me longer),”

Wiesler appears crestfallen. It is as if he remembers in that moment that this is a prostitute, and

not the kind of woman he truly desires.237

What should preface the description of Wiesler’s transformation is the reason for the surveillance operation against Dreyman. At the beginning of the film, Dreyman is a loyal member of the SED and supporter of the state. Wiesler’s superior, Anton Grübitz, comfirms as much. Culture minister and former Stasi official Bruno Hempf orders surveillance against him,

nonetheless. On the surface it seems to have been borne of paranoia, but Wiesler later discovers

that Hempf covets Dreyman’s lover, actress Christa-Maria Sieland. Hempf is using the Stasi to try to eliminate his competition, which privately upsets Wiesler.

236 Ibid 237 Ibid 80

As Wiesler continues his surveillance of Dreyman, he begins to admire both Dreyman and Sieland. By this point, Dreyman has begun to work against the SED, writing a subversive article for publication in the west spurred on by the suicide of his friend, a director under

Berufsverbot. Sympathizing with their plight and angered by the corruption in the top levels of the Stasi, Wiesler begins to defy Stasi protocol to help them in secret.

A major example of this subversion of protocol comes when Sieland must leave

Dreyman’s apartment to meet with Bruno Hempf, a regular occurrence of which Dreyman is aware. Hempf has been using his position to force Sieland into a relationship with him. When

Sieland leaves, ignoring Dreyman’s pleas to stay, Wiesler experiences a crisis of conscience and follows her to a bar. At around 1:02:42, Wiesler poses as a fan (and threatening his cover), he speaks to her and tries to improve her self-confidence, causing her to leave the bar and return to

Dreyman. This is a direct violation of the underlying goal of the surveillance, to allow Hempf to have Sieland to himself. Wiesler is visibly uncomfortable in public but ignores this to help

Sieland.238

In a later scene, at 1:13:55, Dreyman and his colleagues plan to release the article, but must make sure his apartment is not bugged. To do this, they loudly describe false plans for

Dreyman’s friend Paul Hauser to illegally cross the border in the boot of a car, knowing that a

Stasi agent would be obliged to report this to the border guards, who would then search the car, finding nothing. Wiesler is unaware that the plan is false, and he purposefully does not phone the guards to protect Dreyman and his friend, saying quietly to himself “Das eine Mal, Freund (This one time, friend.)”239

238 Ibid 239 Ibid 81

At the climax of the film, Sieland has been coerced into reporting on Dreyman, alerting the Stasi to the existence of the typewriter responsible for the article, as well as its location in the apartment. Wiesler had been forced to oversee Sieland’s interrogation, which clued him into the danger facing Dreyman. Wiesler extracts the typewriter implicating Dreyman from his apartment, protecting him from prosecution. In doing this, Wiesler effectively ended his career with the Stasi, and finds himself demoted to opening mail. After the Wende, Dreyman gets

Wiesler’s name from his file. He dedicates a book that he wrote on his experiences to him, though only using Wiesler’s employee number. Wiesler, now working as a mail carrier, is touched by this act. The film ends with Wiesler telling a clerk at a bookstore “Das ist für mich

(It’s for me).”240

Reception among scholars and eyewitnesses

The film was met with immediate controversy upon release. The reception of the film was divided among professional historians and eyewitnesses. Those that didn’t like the film tended to focus on Henckel’s choice to depict an agent of the Stasi as a sympathetic, redeemable character in the face of all the suffering the Stasi caused in the GDR. This was particularly the opinion of Anna Funder, writing for Sight and Sound. Funder states that the film was technically excellent, considering it the best film she had seen in some time. At the same time, she expresses serious misgivings about the idea that an employee of the Stasi could have such a massive change of heart, becoming a hero. She states that it ignores real history, and further “feeds the current need to ignore that history.”241 She worries that the increasingly belligerent ex-Stasi groups like the Insiderkomitee, some responsible for committing violence, could be empowered

240 Ibid 241 Anna Funder, “Eyes without a Face,” Sight & Sound 17, no. 5 (May 2007) 82

by the portrayal of a Stasi man as sympathetic. She also states that a Wiesler that defied the Stasi

and protected a suspect could not have existed, as findings were constantly cross-checked and

surveillance was conducted in teams.242

Historian Thomas Lindenberger of the Zentrum für Zeithistorische Forschung coined the

term „Stasisploitation“ and applied it to the film, saying it was a “classical case of both artistic

and commercial exploitation of a highly current agenda, namely the factual reconstruction of,

and dealing with, the crimes of communism.”243 Critically, though, Lindenberger does not hold

this against the film, considering it one of the better exploitation films. What he does criticize

about the film is misogynistic undertones, noting that Sieland is depicted as guilty, manipulable,

and weak. He also remarks on the act of killing her character off in the end to facilitate male

bonding between Wiesler and Dreyman.244

Jens Gieseke criticized the film for historical inaccuracy. He states that this would not be

as big a problem if Henckel did not explicitly base the marketing of the film on its authenticity.

Among the problems he identifies is that the Stasi no longer used sleep deprivation as an

interrogation technique in the 1980s, when the film is set. It was used more in the 190s and 60s.

By the 80s, the Stasi used far more sophisticated psychological tricks during interrogation.245 He

also notes that there is no historical example of Gerd Wiesler’s turn from hardliner of the Stasi to

supporter of subversive elements. He states that Wiesler, as a hardliner that is simultaneously a

242 Ibid 243Thomas Lindenberger,"Stasiploitation: Why Not? The Scriptwriter's Historical Creativity in ‘The Lives of Others’," German Studies Review 31, no. 3 (2008) pp. 561 244 Lindenberger, pp. 562 245 Jens Gieseke, "Stasi Goes to Hollywood: Donnersmarcks "The Lives of Others" Und Die Grenzen Der Authentizität," German Studies Review 31, no. 3 (2008) pp. 582 83

sensitive intellectual, is an idealized form of a Stasi officer, while also commenting that it is

unlikely an officer in his position would purely speak in high German dialect.246

The film has had its share of defenders, including Joachim Gauck. While acknowledging

some historical inaccuracies and expressing discomfort with the idea of reconciliation for a Stasi

man, Gauck praises Donnersmarck for his overall effort in producing an authentic representation

of the GDR, and notes his impartiality.247 Wolf Biermann enjoyed the film, saying the plot

moved him. He specifically said the film helped him, for the first time, imagine his Stasi

nemeses as actual flesh and blood human beings rather than as “phantoms,” writing “In diesem

film sah ich, freilich als Kunstfigur verfremdet, zum ersten Mal solche Phantome als lebendige

Menschen (In this film I saw such phantoms, admittedly alienated as art figures, as living

humans for the first time.)”248 He stated that Henckel’s perspective as an outsider, having not lived under the thumb of the Stasi, was valuable.

The film’s historical advisor, historian Manfred Wilke, of course defended the depiction of history in the film. He affirms that Henckel truly aimed for an authentic portrayal of the Stasi.

Wilke also comments on the fact that, while they weren’t common, Stasi officers that opposed the regime did exist, specifically citing Wilhelm Zaisser and Ernst Wollweber’s opposition to

Walter Ulbricht’s regime.249 Similarly, Henckel himself commented upon his efforts toward

historical accuracy. Timothy Garton Ash, in a review, commented on the fact that in the opening

246 Gieseke, „Stasi goes to Hollywood“ pp. 583 247 Miriam Lau, "Nostalgie ist Erinnerung ohne Schmerz,“ Die Welt, March 22, 2006 248 Wolf Biermann, „Warum Wolf Biermann über den Stasi-Film ‚Das Leben der Anderen‘ staunt,“ Die Welt, March 22, 2006 249 Manfred Wilke, "Fiktion Oder Erlebte Geschichte? Zur Frage Der Glaubwürdigkeit Des Films ‚Das Leben Der Anderen,‘" German Studies Review 31, no. 3 (2008) pp. 590. Walter Ulbricht was the general secretary of the SED before Erich Honecker. The two officers mentioned were the first heads of the Stasi. 84

scene, in which Wiesler teaches a class on interrogation, the cadets do not wear Stasi uniforms.

Instead, they wear normal street clothes, which is historically inaccurate.250

Henckel revealed to Garton Ash that this, among others was not an oversight, but

purposeful alteration of fact. Henckel told him that the civilian clothes help the audience to see

the cadets as normal people and allows the audience to identify with them. Garton Ash says

Henckel told him that this was almost necessary, explaining his wording as thus: “in a movie the

reality has to be verdichtet, a word which means thickened, concentrated, intensified, but carries

a verbal association with Dichtung, meaning poetry or, more broadly, fiction.”251

Conclusions

The Stasi continues to capture the imagination of the public in the present, but in

markedly different ways compared to the Cold War and post-Wende. With more distance from the event, emotions have softened and critical literature on the Stasi has abated, somewhat. It has largely been replaced by thrillers; spy fiction featuring the Stasi. The depiction of the Stasi in this period has changed from what came before. Stasi literature and film in this era tends to strive for

“authenticity,” dedicated much time to the exposure of specific Stasi artifacts and techniques.

Stasiland, by Anna Funder, uses oral history to demonstrate torture techniques and prison conditions under the Stasi. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s film Das Leben der Anderen takes care to depict these techniques on screen, as well as use real Stasi artifacts as props.

Stasiland also portrays the shamelessness of ex-Stasi officers, epitomized by the interview with Herr Winz. Ex-officers are portrayed as cavalier, with a lack of guilt over their earlier actions in the Stasi. This explains the existence of organizations like the Insiderkomitee,

250 Timothy Garton Ash, “The Stasi on Our Minds,” The New York Review of Books, May 31, 2007 251 Ibid 85 which is to this day accused of violence in the name of protecting the legacy of the Stasi.

Conversely, Das Leben der Anderen presents the theme that anyone is capable of change, including the most dedicated of Stasi officers. Gerd Wiesler’s sympathetic portrayal in the film is a major departure from previous trends in Stasi portrayal, but was also met with much controversy among historians and eyewitnesses. This controversy demonstrates the Stasi’s lingering impact on people from all backgrounds, whether East German, West German, or even

Australian, in the case of Anna Funder.

As noted by Wolf Biermann in his review of Das Leben der Anderen, more than anything officers in the Stasi are portrayed as human beings. That is, the presentation of people in the

Stasi has become more nuanced. While most still hold an overwhelmingly negative view of them, officers are nonetheless recognized more as people with agency, who held complicated views of their own on the situation in the GDR and had their own distinct motives for joining the

Stasi.

86

CONCLUSION

“Die Mauer im Kopf einzureißen wird länger dauern, als irgendein Abrissunternehmen für die sichtbare Mauer braucht (It will take longer to tear down the wall in the head than any demolition company will require for the visible wall).”252 Peter Schneider was unaware that the visible wall would come down six years after writing his best-known novel, Der Mauerspringer.

Schneider presciently describes the scar that such a wall leaves as a “wall in the head.” Not only do the divisions between East and West continue to haunt German society after the Wende, but the implications of GDR state apparatus do also. The Stasi, and all the baggage that it left behind with its dissolution, is a reminder of die Mauer im Kopf. It has occupied the minds of thinkers and artists since its peak during the Cold War, and, judging by the reception of Das Leben der

Anderen, has left serious wounds in its wake.

The portrayal of the Stasi in various media by different artists has changed incrementally as time progressed, separated by events like the Wende or the turn of the century. In the introduction of this study, I identified the following research questions: How did portrayal of the

Stasi change over time? What caused artists to portray the Stasi as they did? What are the major issues surrounding the Stasi in each period under study? This paper has shown that the depictions of the Stasi have tended to become more realistic and more human as time progressed.

In the Cold War, the Stasi was written as a force of nature, something inhuman that menaces the lives of GDR civilians in fundamental ways. It was a silent antagonist in the background, not portrayed directly as a major character in works of fiction. There were multiple reasons accounting for this portrayal by major artists. The Stasi was still mysterious in its

252 Peter Schneider, Der Mauerspringer: Erzählung (Darmstadt und Neuwied, 1982) pp. 117 87

workings during the Cold War, and artists had little information. The generally negative

portrayal came from its continual harassment of these artists. Wolf Biermann was prevented

from playing in his beloved GDR and eventually expatriated. Christa Wolf and Monika Maron

were both spied on for decades, and similarly were unable to publish in the GDR.

Shortly after the Wende, the landscape was dominated by revelations of IM activity among the GDR population. Being outed as an IM was like being socially dead in the newly reunified Germany, and more people were discovered by the day. Certain people like Gregor

Gysi came out unscathed, others were not so fortunate. In literature, a big change was the introduction of Stasi operatives as protagonists, both officers and IMs. This did not, however, make them the “good guys.” W., in “Ich,” is a cowardly, confused man and Klaus in Helden wie wir is egotistical and incompetent. Wolfgang Hilbig depicts Stasi officers as manipulative and

IMs as lost, subjugated beings in “Ich,” and Thomas Brussig shows the inherently silly and self- serving nature of the Stasi in Helden wie wir. Meanwhile, Timothy Garton Ash studies the motives behind officers and IMs in The File, which shows a level of delusion existing in ex-Stasi

officers’ minds.

Finally, the repercussions of the Stasi did not disappear with the turn of the century. The

modern landscape is dominated by a general failure to find justice for those wronged by the

organization. Gregor Gysi finds himself periodically under fire for his relationship with the Stasi,

but still escapes any punishment. In the arts, the Stasi feature in more of spy sense, with focus

not on their wrongdoing but on their abilities. This trend is notably broken twice, by Anna

Funder’s Stasiland and the critically acclaimed film Das Leben der Anderen. These works both

endeavor to accurately demonstrate the specific techniques used by the Stasi, but widely differ in

their ideas about the individual officers. The film chooses to show a Stasi officer as redeemable, 88 and willing to help a suspect he is surveilling, and in doing so sacrifices historical authenticity.

Stasiland shows officers in a very negative light and brings attention to the negative actions of modern Stasi support organizations.

In general, social conditions prevalent at the time of creation informed the artists’ depictions of the Stasi. When more information was available on the Stasi, depictions became correspondingly more nuanced than they were previously. Finally, the more distance that is put between the Wende and today, the less likely that Stasi literature will attempt a sort of activism.

These conclusions confirm earlier research done on the Stasi in general German literature by

Stephen Brockmann and Annie Ring, but differentiates in important ways. Ring’s work focuses on the psychological aspects of spying for the Stasi and uses literature comparatively with archival evidence, while this study focuses more closely on the texts themselves and studies the way authors chose to portray the Stasi without claiming that they were correct in their portrayals.

Brockmann’s work tends to focus exclusively on individual novels and contains no comparative or comprehensive element.

This paper sets itself apart with its focus on chronology and change over time, which is something not present in previous works dealing with the Stasi in cultural media. A systematic study of literature and film over time is notably absent from the existing historiography.

Similarly, blending research styles of history and German Studies helped to demonstrate the ways that societal conditions influenced the artists that I studied. This paper contributes to a relatively sparse historiography in the English language and can serve as the jumping off point for further research in this style.

The challenges that I encountered while writing this paper came mostly from the 2020

COVID-19 Pandemic, what I suspect will be a common culprit cited for research difficulties 89 within the past year. The pandemic was largely responsible for my choice in resources for this paper. I was prevented from traveling to reach archival centers housed in Germany. The Stasi archives are already tricky to access as a scholar with no connection to a victim, the addition of travel restrictions made those resources impossible to access. In an ideal situation, I would have included archival research along with the close reading of literature.

The literature that I did find was also indirectly affected by the pandemic. The abbreviated schedule under which I wrote this paper was necessitated by COVID guidelines at

BGSU. This abbreviated schedule meant that my research had to pared down to fit a specific schedule. While roughly three artists and works per chapter is a good number, there is of course far more to be looked at. At times I was forced to use translated versions of certain books that originated in German, which was also a difficulty caused by an abbreviated schedule. While not my first choice, these versions were the only ones that would arrive in a timely and cost-efficient manner, as the German versions would often ship from overseas.

The first chapter was deceptively difficult to write because of how veiled the references to the Stasi were in literature at that time. I had to get creative in outlining my conclusions for that chapter with that in mind. This was a place where archival evidence perhaps would have come in handy to enhance understanding and evidence. Conversely, the ensuing chapters were difficult because I had to decide what was important to include and what could be left out.

Certain resources were left out because of length, such as Nikolaikirche by Erich Loest. This book is more than five hundred pages long, which was more than I could budget for in my research period. I’d also decided that it would be sensible to keep the number of works I studied the same for the first two chapters. 90

As previously stated, future research in this area will likely be a combination of literary

and archival research, which is something that Annie Ring engages with in her book. There are

many more books and authors that can be studied in the Cold War and post-Wende periods. In

the Cold War, more of Monika Maron’s books can be worked in, such as Stille Zeile Sechs. Most

of her work was critical of the GDR, and thus potentially valuable. In the same vein, certain of

Christa Wolf’s earlier works can be studied too, especially Der geteilte Himmel. Stasi references are not as direct in her other works, but its touch is almost certainly there, nonetheless. In the post-Wende period, certainly Nikolaikirche and its film adaptation can be studied. Similarly,

Thomas Brussig’s Sonnenallee and its literary counterpart can be studied as well. Future research should also focus more deeply on very recent productions, as this is a relatively understudied portion of this project.

The Stasi will not disappear as subjects in future popular culture productions. The story of the Stasi, for better or worse, seems to have captured the imaginations of modern artists. The depictions of the Stasi in these productions will continue to evolve as well, keeping in concert with changing norms and values. Whether the Stasi continues to be remembered for its amoral deeds in service of an uncaring state is yet to be seen, but writers like Anna Funder, Joachim

Gauck, and Jens Gieseke as well as the countless victims of the Stasi will certainly push for it to remain strong in the future.

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