"If I had known now what would happen over those three months, I doubt I would have had the nerves to go through it all again. You asked me what I thought the most pivotal moment was during late '89, and for me it must have been Gorbachev's decision to force the East German's to embrace change. Looking back it was obvious, especially given the Polish government's decision to hold elections, but even so, being a reporter on the ground when the Soviet tanks rolled into Berlin was something that I will never forget."
Reading through Ben Bradshaw's account of the events of that tumultuous year, I was struck by my own tale of growing up in middle England during the 80's. Of course I knew nothing of the beatings, the brutality, and the deaths which swum beneath the surface of the news. My father, a burly Heartfordshire copper who had tackled the miners, gave the communists short shrift, and while the 16 year old me didn't appreciate his shouting at the television screen demanding that the Yanks ride in to prevent another Prague takeover. Watching the weasel Honecker thanking the Soviet troops, I caught him muttering something along the lines of "I'll soon defenestrate his arse if i get half the chance."
"We never really got the chance to thank Gorbachev for his actions, as his attention was squarely fixed on Berlin, but I was told by Vaclav afterwards that the Chairman personally phoned him on the night of November 25th to confirm that the Soviet troops would not interfere in the natural progression of events. Not that 1968 was far from anyone's mind, but it was clear from the situation further north that Moscow was not going to fight back against the peaceful transition."
Professor Martin always highlighted Dubcek's comments in his 1991 Guardian interview as an example of how schizophrenic the Soviet's were in this period, though as my Masters tutor, the professor admonished me for focussing on events which were too recent to be properly analysed, but even so I could not help but be enthralled by this period in my life. I was always amazed by Dubcek's claim amidst the turmoil of the era, and along with Vaclav Havel he shone as a beacon in a period of immense gloom.
"On a personal level I felt immense satisfaction on December 12th when Gorby announced that the Czechs would be allowed to leave the (Warsaw) Pact unmolested. The President phoned around ten in the evening to share a few words, and I am sure the boys at State popped a few champagne corks over that one, but the President also made it clear to me that we had to help the East German's get the same result.
We had been caught with our pants down on this one, as no-one had expected the East Germans to come out onto the street the way they had, but the entire cabinet was decided upon a firm course of action at the emergency meeting we had the following day. I know with hindsight the gloom of those few days was prescient of things to come, but we were feeling morally justified in helping the Eastern Block gain their freedoms."
I never knew where Secretary of State Baker got his confidence from, and even watching his denunciation of the Soviet tanks on the new reports, the 16 year me could sense the Americans were blustering somewhat. Dad started talking about the spirit of Kennedy, and how that Yanks should get all 1961 on the Soviet's arse, but it seemed to me as if things were really spiralling out of their control.
"The news coming out of East Berlin this evening is grave indeed. Four hundred protesters have been confirmed killed by Soviet troops, as running battles have been fought between the protesters and the occupying forces. From this side of the wall it is clear that there is major civil unrest, with fires visible in sections of the residential areas.
Chairman Honecker is reported to be recovering well after the assassination attempt this morning, and with the aid of Soviet Troops declared martial law. All the checkpoints into and out off the Eastern side of the city have been shut down, and all foreign media were expelled from East Germany. If this is what Gordachev meant when he wanted a opening up of the East, then the East Berliners have answered him in kind."
This news report became iconic, especially the high vantage point video of Soviet troops chasing down the protesters near the Brandenburg Gate. School was awash with grisly tales of East German border guards shooting protesters on sight, and Garry Thomas even brought in a magazine showing the graphic details a few weeks later.
Not that any of this really shook our worlds, though with our youthful idealism our proto-political sympathies lay with the protesters. The new Grateful Dead and Zappa albums were getting more play time than the news, and when Zach brought in stills from Madonna's performance on MTV I think we all forgot about Berlin in a hurry.
"For too long the people of Berlin have suffered under the tyranny of injustice. I hear-by call upon all the nations of the world to condemn the barbaric acts perpetrated by the Honecker regime against their own people, and to come together in solidarity of the rights of all men to have free and just governance. With this in mind, with the powers vested in this office, I have today ordered that two additional combat battalions be sent to Berlin to provide aid should it be requested by the East German people."
President Bush's speech certainly put the wind up the Soviets, though from memory Moscow's response was fairly muted. After the collapse of the Bulgarian regime, and President Jaruzelski of Poland's televised denunciation of the German brutality, the Soviet politburo seemed to be paralysed with indecision. I thought I understood some of what was happening, but with the growing discontent in our household over the Poll Tax began to get in the way of the foreign news.
Dad had just received a promotion to Inspector, and one of his community duties included talking to local resident leaders about issues which could cause disorder. The Poll Tax was the number one issue, and while dad sympathised at home, and certainly railed against Thatcher with us, at work he had to put on a strong face for the public. Much effing and jeffing was said when he thought we were out of earshot, but even so it became clear that things were not rosy on the Garden of England.
"The first refugees began pouring over the border around noon, their convoys harassed by Soviet helicopters all the way to the checkpoint. The Polish security forces waived them through with no formal checks, while in turn using loud hailers to corral them into the burgeoning make-shift camp springing up not far down the road.
On closer inspection, some of the refugees clearly had injuries sustained on their journey east, while others sat staring into space, clearly unable to take in their bid for freedom. All the while the East German and Soviet troops prevents anyone from crossing back into East Germany. I spoke to one lady, who did not wish to be named, who simply stated that troops had come into her village to arrest protesters, and in the process shots were fired on both sides. As we are unable to corroborate this additional information, the BBC wishes to make it clear that this remain allegations at this point, though it is certain that events are now taking a turn of the worst."
Bradshaw's report on the breaking news of the Odeburg massacre really hit home the utter senselessness of the times. That the Polish government had allowed the refugees through the border was a clear sign that the world was re-aligning, and at school was couldn't stop talking about the gory details. Of course, once again, we had not real idea what we were talking about, but still we were glued to our television screens for the next few nights hoping to catch a glimpse of more blood and guts.
My personal research for my Ph.D. led me down many dark alleys, and while the East Germans still keep information regarding Odeburg under close wraps, I was able to interview some of the survivors who fled the terror. It struck me talking to them that no-one expected the troops to behave the way they did, and no-one realised just how their neighbours would react to the arrests. The Stasi usually did an efficient job at keeping any dissent in check, but from the eyewitness testimony it is clear that the informer system was already breaking under the stress of the previous months. So much so, in fact, that witnesses recalled that amongst the first to be killed in the village were a handful of known informers.
"I call upon Sectary General Javier Pérez de Cuéllar to provide strong leadership in this crisis, and demand that the Soviet Union remove all troops from East Germany on humanitarian grounds. It is clear that the escalating crisis in the Democratic Republic has nothing to do with ideology, rather it is due to the desperation of the Honecker regime to cling to power. With this in mind, we are expelling five East German diplomats, and withdrawing all non-essential staff from our East Berlin embassy for their own safety."
Douglas Hurd's gesture on the 3rd December really didn't set our household on fire, and dad merely dismissed it as Britain trying to posture on the global stage. Mum insisted on taking us to the peace vigil outside the East German embassy on the 5th December, despite the freezing cold, and for the three of us it was just a chance to skip school. Dad was annoyed, though due to a call up of any available officers to cover the vigils and demonstrations popping up he was away from home for the period running up to bloody Christmas.
"In all the chaos that East Germany had descended into, nothing prepared me from what was about to unfold on Romania. Thankfully I was in Hungary during 1989, and having watched appalled at the actions unfolding before my eyes on state television, a deep seated dread grabbed hold of me. All forms of communication were cut with Bucharest, and I was desperate to get news from my friends of family. When I finally did get word from them, my heart broke with the news that nearly four thousand of my fellow citizens had been butchered by that mad dog in control of my homeland."
I always find Octavian Florescu's dramatic triptych of paintings of the Romanian martyrs so compelling, and each time I go to the Tate Modern I stand in awe at the sheer pain they conjure up. Of course the surrealist techniques he uses are more along the lines of Picasso's Guernica, and it is the emotional punch they leave you with that lingers long after you step away from their gaze.
I doubt nothing could prepare the Hungarian or Bulgarian government for the mass exodus of Romanians that crashed into their borders over the next two weeks, and once again the news was full of terrified people carrying meagre possessions over a hostile border. Unlike the East Germans, the Romanians were actively shooting anyone who tried to escape, and I got the impression that if the Hungarians had not intervened, then far more people would have died.
The first time I stood on that border, and touched the memorial statue to the five Hungarian border policemen who sacrificed their lives so that the many refugees could escape, was one of the most deeply touching of my life. Eye witnesses told me that the graphic details of the dark night of 16th/17th December, and how in the bitter cold the border guards had stood their ground against a far superior number of Romanian troops, each one selling his life so that thousands of people could live. One woman told me how she tended the wounds of one of them, sobbing for his mother as his life ebbed away into the snow. At the breaking dawn reinforcements arrived, but by then the flower of Hungarian youth had shed their blood in the name of freedom.
"I stand here today denouncing those traitors against the people, those rabble rousers who wish harm on this great nation of ours. Like the great heroes of old, we must stand firm against this insidious threat to national security, and remember that the Party is there for you no matter what may befall other nations."
Dad laughed at that one, actually burst out laughing right in the middle of dinner. He really did not like Ceaușescu, especially when the news was full of the refugees fleeing the Romanian crackdown, so he made a habit of laughing at the screen whenever the Romanian leader appeared. BBC Newsnight carried in-depth commentary of the crisis, and Jeremy Paxman's evisceration of the Romanian ambassador to London was compelling to say the least. The lads at school all stayed up late to watch the new, which was unusual to say the least, and I think we all had a sense of the times, for all we now seemed to think about was writing protest songs, designing banners, and chatting up the girls who feigned an interest in our sub-Dylanesque music.
"It is clear from the troop movements from Poland into East Germany that the Soviet Government is still trying to shore up the Honecker government. I once again call on Premier Gorbachev to provide firm leadership in this matter, and allow the Red Cross access to those areas of the country where aid is needed. United Nations Resolution 4492 makes it clear that the East German government must allow humanitarian aid to progress un-hindered across the border, otherwise the Security Council may consider sanctions against Berlin."
The look on Sectary General Javier Pérez de Cuéllar's face as he delivered the press conference said it all. The Guardian carried an in-depth analysis of the crisis, and one commentator pointed out that the resolution would not have passed unless both the Soviets and the Americans had wished it so. I never cottoned on to the fact that in the midst of all the swirling chaos of December 1989, that we were actually watching the beginning of the end of the cold war. It only really hit me on the 27th December that things were changing in ways no-one really predicted when Christopher Hitchen's polemic article on the crisis was published:
"In all things man is equal, yet in these times of totalitarian barbarism we see the concrete tears of the yoked crying out for liberation. If the velvet glove of the Czechoslovakians, Poles, and Hungarians is an example of the beneficial transition from dark to light, then the iron fist of the East Germans and Romanians is an example of the worst excesses that humanity can mete out to each other."
Reading through Ben Bradshaw's account of the events of that tumultuous year, I was struck by my own tale of growing up in middle England during the 80's. Of course I knew nothing of the beatings, the brutality, and the deaths which swum beneath the surface of the news. My father, a burly Heartfordshire copper who had tackled the miners, gave the communists short shrift, and while the 16 year old me didn't appreciate his shouting at the television screen demanding that the Yanks ride in to prevent another Prague takeover. Watching the weasel Honecker thanking the Soviet troops, I caught him muttering something along the lines of "I'll soon defenestrate his arse if i get half the chance."
"We never really got the chance to thank Gorbachev for his actions, as his attention was squarely fixed on Berlin, but I was told by Vaclav afterwards that the Chairman personally phoned him on the night of November 25th to confirm that the Soviet troops would not interfere in the natural progression of events. Not that 1968 was far from anyone's mind, but it was clear from the situation further north that Moscow was not going to fight back against the peaceful transition."
Professor Martin always highlighted Dubcek's comments in his 1991 Guardian interview as an example of how schizophrenic the Soviet's were in this period, though as my Masters tutor, the professor admonished me for focussing on events which were too recent to be properly analysed, but even so I could not help but be enthralled by this period in my life. I was always amazed by Dubcek's claim amidst the turmoil of the era, and along with Vaclav Havel he shone as a beacon in a period of immense gloom.
"On a personal level I felt immense satisfaction on December 12th when Gorby announced that the Czechs would be allowed to leave the (Warsaw) Pact unmolested. The President phoned around ten in the evening to share a few words, and I am sure the boys at State popped a few champagne corks over that one, but the President also made it clear to me that we had to help the East German's get the same result.
We had been caught with our pants down on this one, as no-one had expected the East Germans to come out onto the street the way they had, but the entire cabinet was decided upon a firm course of action at the emergency meeting we had the following day. I know with hindsight the gloom of those few days was prescient of things to come, but we were feeling morally justified in helping the Eastern Block gain their freedoms."
I never knew where Secretary of State Baker got his confidence from, and even watching his denunciation of the Soviet tanks on the new reports, the 16 year me could sense the Americans were blustering somewhat. Dad started talking about the spirit of Kennedy, and how that Yanks should get all 1961 on the Soviet's arse, but it seemed to me as if things were really spiralling out of their control.
"The news coming out of East Berlin this evening is grave indeed. Four hundred protesters have been confirmed killed by Soviet troops, as running battles have been fought between the protesters and the occupying forces. From this side of the wall it is clear that there is major civil unrest, with fires visible in sections of the residential areas.
Chairman Honecker is reported to be recovering well after the assassination attempt this morning, and with the aid of Soviet Troops declared martial law. All the checkpoints into and out off the Eastern side of the city have been shut down, and all foreign media were expelled from East Germany. If this is what Gordachev meant when he wanted a opening up of the East, then the East Berliners have answered him in kind."
This news report became iconic, especially the high vantage point video of Soviet troops chasing down the protesters near the Brandenburg Gate. School was awash with grisly tales of East German border guards shooting protesters on sight, and Garry Thomas even brought in a magazine showing the graphic details a few weeks later.
Not that any of this really shook our worlds, though with our youthful idealism our proto-political sympathies lay with the protesters. The new Grateful Dead and Zappa albums were getting more play time than the news, and when Zach brought in stills from Madonna's performance on MTV I think we all forgot about Berlin in a hurry.
"For too long the people of Berlin have suffered under the tyranny of injustice. I hear-by call upon all the nations of the world to condemn the barbaric acts perpetrated by the Honecker regime against their own people, and to come together in solidarity of the rights of all men to have free and just governance. With this in mind, with the powers vested in this office, I have today ordered that two additional combat battalions be sent to Berlin to provide aid should it be requested by the East German people."
President Bush's speech certainly put the wind up the Soviets, though from memory Moscow's response was fairly muted. After the collapse of the Bulgarian regime, and President Jaruzelski of Poland's televised denunciation of the German brutality, the Soviet politburo seemed to be paralysed with indecision. I thought I understood some of what was happening, but with the growing discontent in our household over the Poll Tax began to get in the way of the foreign news.
Dad had just received a promotion to Inspector, and one of his community duties included talking to local resident leaders about issues which could cause disorder. The Poll Tax was the number one issue, and while dad sympathised at home, and certainly railed against Thatcher with us, at work he had to put on a strong face for the public. Much effing and jeffing was said when he thought we were out of earshot, but even so it became clear that things were not rosy on the Garden of England.
"The first refugees began pouring over the border around noon, their convoys harassed by Soviet helicopters all the way to the checkpoint. The Polish security forces waived them through with no formal checks, while in turn using loud hailers to corral them into the burgeoning make-shift camp springing up not far down the road.
On closer inspection, some of the refugees clearly had injuries sustained on their journey east, while others sat staring into space, clearly unable to take in their bid for freedom. All the while the East German and Soviet troops prevents anyone from crossing back into East Germany. I spoke to one lady, who did not wish to be named, who simply stated that troops had come into her village to arrest protesters, and in the process shots were fired on both sides. As we are unable to corroborate this additional information, the BBC wishes to make it clear that this remain allegations at this point, though it is certain that events are now taking a turn of the worst."
Bradshaw's report on the breaking news of the Odeburg massacre really hit home the utter senselessness of the times. That the Polish government had allowed the refugees through the border was a clear sign that the world was re-aligning, and at school was couldn't stop talking about the gory details. Of course, once again, we had not real idea what we were talking about, but still we were glued to our television screens for the next few nights hoping to catch a glimpse of more blood and guts.
My personal research for my Ph.D. led me down many dark alleys, and while the East Germans still keep information regarding Odeburg under close wraps, I was able to interview some of the survivors who fled the terror. It struck me talking to them that no-one expected the troops to behave the way they did, and no-one realised just how their neighbours would react to the arrests. The Stasi usually did an efficient job at keeping any dissent in check, but from the eyewitness testimony it is clear that the informer system was already breaking under the stress of the previous months. So much so, in fact, that witnesses recalled that amongst the first to be killed in the village were a handful of known informers.
"I call upon Sectary General Javier Pérez de Cuéllar to provide strong leadership in this crisis, and demand that the Soviet Union remove all troops from East Germany on humanitarian grounds. It is clear that the escalating crisis in the Democratic Republic has nothing to do with ideology, rather it is due to the desperation of the Honecker regime to cling to power. With this in mind, we are expelling five East German diplomats, and withdrawing all non-essential staff from our East Berlin embassy for their own safety."
Douglas Hurd's gesture on the 3rd December really didn't set our household on fire, and dad merely dismissed it as Britain trying to posture on the global stage. Mum insisted on taking us to the peace vigil outside the East German embassy on the 5th December, despite the freezing cold, and for the three of us it was just a chance to skip school. Dad was annoyed, though due to a call up of any available officers to cover the vigils and demonstrations popping up he was away from home for the period running up to bloody Christmas.
"In all the chaos that East Germany had descended into, nothing prepared me from what was about to unfold on Romania. Thankfully I was in Hungary during 1989, and having watched appalled at the actions unfolding before my eyes on state television, a deep seated dread grabbed hold of me. All forms of communication were cut with Bucharest, and I was desperate to get news from my friends of family. When I finally did get word from them, my heart broke with the news that nearly four thousand of my fellow citizens had been butchered by that mad dog in control of my homeland."
I always find Octavian Florescu's dramatic triptych of paintings of the Romanian martyrs so compelling, and each time I go to the Tate Modern I stand in awe at the sheer pain they conjure up. Of course the surrealist techniques he uses are more along the lines of Picasso's Guernica, and it is the emotional punch they leave you with that lingers long after you step away from their gaze.
I doubt nothing could prepare the Hungarian or Bulgarian government for the mass exodus of Romanians that crashed into their borders over the next two weeks, and once again the news was full of terrified people carrying meagre possessions over a hostile border. Unlike the East Germans, the Romanians were actively shooting anyone who tried to escape, and I got the impression that if the Hungarians had not intervened, then far more people would have died.
The first time I stood on that border, and touched the memorial statue to the five Hungarian border policemen who sacrificed their lives so that the many refugees could escape, was one of the most deeply touching of my life. Eye witnesses told me that the graphic details of the dark night of 16th/17th December, and how in the bitter cold the border guards had stood their ground against a far superior number of Romanian troops, each one selling his life so that thousands of people could live. One woman told me how she tended the wounds of one of them, sobbing for his mother as his life ebbed away into the snow. At the breaking dawn reinforcements arrived, but by then the flower of Hungarian youth had shed their blood in the name of freedom.
"I stand here today denouncing those traitors against the people, those rabble rousers who wish harm on this great nation of ours. Like the great heroes of old, we must stand firm against this insidious threat to national security, and remember that the Party is there for you no matter what may befall other nations."
Dad laughed at that one, actually burst out laughing right in the middle of dinner. He really did not like Ceaușescu, especially when the news was full of the refugees fleeing the Romanian crackdown, so he made a habit of laughing at the screen whenever the Romanian leader appeared. BBC Newsnight carried in-depth commentary of the crisis, and Jeremy Paxman's evisceration of the Romanian ambassador to London was compelling to say the least. The lads at school all stayed up late to watch the new, which was unusual to say the least, and I think we all had a sense of the times, for all we now seemed to think about was writing protest songs, designing banners, and chatting up the girls who feigned an interest in our sub-Dylanesque music.
"It is clear from the troop movements from Poland into East Germany that the Soviet Government is still trying to shore up the Honecker government. I once again call on Premier Gorbachev to provide firm leadership in this matter, and allow the Red Cross access to those areas of the country where aid is needed. United Nations Resolution 4492 makes it clear that the East German government must allow humanitarian aid to progress un-hindered across the border, otherwise the Security Council may consider sanctions against Berlin."
The look on Sectary General Javier Pérez de Cuéllar's face as he delivered the press conference said it all. The Guardian carried an in-depth analysis of the crisis, and one commentator pointed out that the resolution would not have passed unless both the Soviets and the Americans had wished it so. I never cottoned on to the fact that in the midst of all the swirling chaos of December 1989, that we were actually watching the beginning of the end of the cold war. It only really hit me on the 27th December that things were changing in ways no-one really predicted when Christopher Hitchen's polemic article on the crisis was published:
"In all things man is equal, yet in these times of totalitarian barbarism we see the concrete tears of the yoked crying out for liberation. If the velvet glove of the Czechoslovakians, Poles, and Hungarians is an example of the beneficial transition from dark to light, then the iron fist of the East Germans and Romanians is an example of the worst excesses that humanity can mete out to each other."
