Bucharest, Romania

Bucharest

Bucharest also hosted wreath-layings on the anniversary if the day that Ceauşescus fled the city. In 2009, the city was blanketed in snow, and much of the city’s bustle was in preparation for the encroaching Christmas day. Despite this, however, quite a number of people had stopped to reflect or to organize events. One student art group, for example, put up a public display featuring the scene of the Last Supper between Jesus and his disciples but incorporating symbolic elements from 1989. They set up a videocamera behind the scene pointing toward the scene’s visitors, to document reactions, thus turning the piece into a circular reflection.

In a semblance of a reenactment, the city put up blockades on the street in the university area, as government authorities had in 1989, and projected images of the protesters on large screens. Although the crowds that gathered were small in contrast with what I observed in Berlin, Leipzig, and Prague (granted, it was very cold), this seemed to give the individuals’ attendance at the event a quite determined flavor.

I was struck by one scene in the underground Metro station near the university in Bucharest. A commemorative display featured ongoing videoclips, photos, and a stand with an open guestbook in which individuals were invited to write. Every time I visited this place, there were several people lined up, silently, waiting to write in the book. Usually the writer wrote for quite some time before handing over the pen.

Overall, however, it was evident that the commemorative events, which lasted for quite a few days, overwhelmed Timisoara, a smaller city of course, more so than Bucharest.

Timisoara, Romania

 

Timisoara
I was fortunate to be able to spend time in both Timisoara, Romania, where the revolution began on December 17, 2010, and Bucharest, where revolutionary activity continued, culminating in the December 22 flee of the Ceauşescus, and their execution on December 25. Both cities hosted a series of varied events; in both places, there were musical performances, art exhibits, and ceremonial wreath-laying ceremonies. In Timisoara, officials organized a wreath-laying procession that moved between all of the significant places of the city that were instrumental in the revolution. A central memorial place was an abstract sculpture in the suggested form of a cross in the main square, with the names of victims inscribed; large number of wreaths were laid here. (I am reminded of the wreath-laying ceremony in Gdansk on August 31.) A cross-shaped display of red votive candles was laid out on the picturesque main square in Timisoara, striking a contrast with the fresh snowfall. Father László Tőkés, the outspoken dissident Hungarian Protestant Christian minister whose reprimands by the party had stimulated local protests that helped fuel revolutionary sentiment, was on hand to lead some of the events.

Among the special commemorative events was a ceremony to unveil the restored graffiti message, “Eljen Laszlo Tokes – Szabadsag” (“Long Live Laszlo Tokes – Freedom!”) on the wall of the Reformed Church where it had been first painted in 1989. A commemorative event in front of the church turned into a spontaneous reenactment of the events—without the actual violence, of course.

A Timisoara university hosted a series of presentations on 1989, including a panel of former local activists, the premiere of the film, “Dracula’s Shadow – The Real Story Behind the Romanian Revolution,” followed by a panel of those who became political leaders—Romanian and others, including Lech Walesa.

There is a “Revolution Tour” that one can take in Timisoara across the important sites, including buildings with visible bulletmarks left from 1989. The tour guide, however, questioned the language of “revolution.” He didn’t think it was a revolution. This issue arises in Romania in part due to the confusion over the circumstances in 1989; there are conspiracy theories, for example, regarding what actually happened—was this an internal government coup, or possibly a CIA-KGB-orchestrated event? The question also seems to be a skeptical one about the depth of the post-1989 changes, an issue that I ran across in other places, but more centrally in Bulgaria. Nevertheless, I was struck by how much the 1989 events were inscribed into the Timisoara landscape. Street signage marked the dates of the transformation.

There is also a small museum that one man has assembled, with artifacts and films. It had recently hosted a children’s art festival on the 1989 revolution.

Although there was a noticeable attitude of victory and relief that the pre-1989 days were over, the twentieth anniversary was nevertheless a very heavy, somber occasion. TV Romania broadcast a series of documentary films of in-depth interviews with eyewitnesses on television and in a student club. These included tearful descriptions of the mother or the son that was murdered in cold blood in front of the survivor. This gave the commemorations a very personal, intimate tone.

I ran into cynicism among several young people I met toward present-day politics and the state of opportunities for their generation. Here is a quote from my translator: “I got mugged in front of my apartment building, and a group of boys took all my papers. I lost my money and my phone but I eventually got my papers back. But I was a little relieved because I couldn’t decide who to vote for (they’re all the same). Without my papers I couldn’t vote, so that solved the problem.”

I met a young married couple who rented a flat to me. They had both graduated with law degrees, but reported that they can’t get jobs in Romania because it’s all corrupt: judges, etc., just give jobs to family members. They have decided to just run their business managing properties and not bother trying to practice law. I told them that I hoped that some day they could use their degrees, and they just shrugged and said no, they’ve given up.

March to Narodni Square, November 17

The central tribute to the November 17 Prague events that propelled the Velvet Revolution was an organized march that re-traced the precise steps of the 1989 student march, planned and orchestrated by the NGO Opona. The march began with an opening ceremony at Albertov, the site of the Medical Faculty of Charles University, and ending at Narodní Square. Several generations were represented by the crowd, and the numbers grew as the multi-hour march approached its goal.

The spirit of the crowd was celebratory, and even at times, humorous. Stationed along the path was an individual shrouded in a white sheet, holding sign that read, “don’t give up” – at the point where the students had originally planned to turn around, since they were concerned that they would not be allowed into central Prague. This chant reportedly encouraged them to continue. A sign that this march was taking place in a completely different era was the occasional overheard conversation in the crowd, such as one about going to the hairdresser, and cell-phone calls to friends in other spots of the march. As the crowd turned into the center of the city by the National Theater, a young man dressed in a 1980s-era police uniform yelled stern warnings from a megaphone from an upper-floor window; this re-enactment drew smiles. Several colorful candle-powered mini-hot-air balloons were released into the air, labeled “balloons of peace.”

As the march drew to a conclusion at Narodní Square, organizers announced that the media was taking a photo, at which point the crowd dangled its keys just as the original marchers had done. They estimated the crowds to be approximately 45,000. As they drew close to the conclusion, the marchers sang the Czech national anthem, and before them was a white “curtain” of fireworks to symbolize the disintegrated Iron Curtain.

At the conclusion of the march was an outdoor stage where a series of performers, including Czech performers and Joan Baez, offered tributes. Baez sang “we shall overcome,” and Vaclav Havel addressed the crowd. Following the concert was a DJ, who played songs from the era, as well as protest songs from the 1960s, and concluded with U2’s song, “One.” The reveling crowd appeared to be predominantly the age of the children of the 1989 protesters, but nevertheless physically “owning” the moment somehow as their own. Appropriate, one observer has asked, for a site that is revered as a solemn place to remember the brutal police beatings that took place against the students in 1989?

The Autonomous Nationalists were not successful at disrupting this event, and eventually retreated.

Prague public concert November 17, National Theater

A large choir made up of pupils from schools across Prague performed the rock oratorio, “Eversmiling Liberty” on the steps of the National Theater. This oratorio is based on the “story of Judas Maccabaeus, the leader of Jewish revolt in 167 BC, who stood against the Seleucid Empire and forced Hellenization of the Jews. Judas, together with his army, finally won the battle against the army of his King Antiochus IV Epiphanes, who forbade Jewish religious practices in Jerusalem.” This theme resonated with the more recent history of the Czechoslovakian social movement that rejected their externally-imposed system under prophetic leadership. The Czech Ministry of Culture supported this concert.

Several hundred protesters of the group “Autonomous Nationalists,” a right-wing and anti-Semitic nationalist group, crowded the adjacent street, however, and managed to produce concert-disturbing walls of noise through rock music and speeches broadcast over loudspeakers. The group announced its intentions to disrupt the day’s events in advance, and 800 police officers were on hand; the police lined the scene with a cautious eye, attempting to separate the protesters from the concert area. The singers were further challenged by the police helicopter circling above and intermittent rain. The protesters’ noise eventually subsided, as did the rain, and the concert was able to continue.

Slovakia

Since Slovakia was part of Czechoslovakia in 1989, their anniversary date is the same as the Czech Republic: November 17. I was not able to get to their celebration, therefore, but did get to Bratislava a few days later, and took in their exhibits devoted to 1989.

Remembering Student Protests in Prague November 17

Quite a number of events took place in Prague on this day to commemorate the November 17, 1989 events. Unlike Germany, almost all of the events were civic initiatives, not organized by the state. The events were not spared public contestation, however, and there were some parallels with Budapest.

The one Czech-state-organized event took place with a short, small ceremoney in the morning: President Vaclav Klaus arrived at the building where a plaque commemorating the 1989 uprising took place, to lay a wreath. He was met by a small crowd of demonstrators and counter-demonstrators. Students who oppose his policy philosophies, which include vocal critiques of EU “Europeanism,” which he views as a new socialism, were present with banners and chants. His supporters had their own chants: “Long Live Klaus!” to which the students responded “Somewhere else!” Klaus was able to lay the wreath, and then disappeared into the historic Louvre cafe.

Commemorating through Music: Prague, November 14

On November 14, Vaclav Havel hosted a concert in a 13th century church in Prague to kick off the 20th anniversary commemorations of the Czechoslovakian “Velvet Revolution.” 

Celebrities in attendance included Adam Michnik from Poland, who gave a rousing speech, referring to Havel as the region’s Moses. Former U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, born in Prague, also was in attendance.

Havel chose the performers for the star-studded performance. The singers Suzanne Vega, Lou Reed, Joan Baez, and Renee Fleming performed pieces that had particular relevance for the occasion, including protest songs of the 1960s. One of the evening’s pinnacle moments was Joan Baez’s rendition of “We Shall Overcome,” with one verse in Czech. The audience sang along, and close-ups of the audience members revealed a host of teary eyes—including those of Havel. Later, a video was projected, featuring the 1989 Czech dissident crowds in Wenceslas Square singing “We Shall Overcome” and flashing peace signs to the police.

In fact, the U.S. Civil Rights movement was prominent as inspiration and source of the spirit of resistance that the evening recalled.  A clear theme of the evening was the importance of the arts for social change, exemplified by Vaclav Havel, a novelist who rose to the position of president of the democratizing Czech Republic.

Congratulatory videos came in from the Dalai Lama, Angel Merkel, Mikhail Gorbachev, Barack Obama, Bono, Bob Geldof, Mick Jagger, and others. Obama made a point of congratulating both the Czech Republic and Slovak Republic in his speech. Gorbachev praised the venue because he reported that he also loves music.  

Earlier in the day, Havel had harsh words for Russia, however, during a debate with students, charging the country with continuing controls on its society.  

Havel ended the concert with a pithy list of the societies still suffering from oppressive regimes, including Darfur, Cuba, North Korea, Venezuela, Tibet, and others.

Angels over Berlin

In a nod to the 1987 film, Wings of Desire, by German director Wim Wenders, angels appeared on the tops of Berlin buildings on November 9. The film depicts two angels who look down on the city from their perch on rooftops, and wander through the city watching and listening to Berliners’ hopes and struggles.

In an art installation atop four buildings along the route of the former Berlin Wall, actors with angel wings stood  and looked down on Berliners. They moved in slow motion, each with a different task. One waved, holding flowers in one arm, one lowered a bouquet of flowers on a string down to the street below, and one sent an occasional leaflet to drift down. Other performance artists were stationed along the street. Among them was a woman who claimed to be an angel-ologist, standing on a ladder in her long white dress and fur coat, with her camera equipment in a baby carriage.

 

My own photo-documenting activity prompted a passerby to stop and explain that the angels are commemorating people who lost their lives trying to cross over the wall. She proceeded to relate her own story: she was graduating from secondary school when it was built, and she ended up on the west side and her father on the east. She said that one-third of her class was separated from their families. Her father never believed that the wall would come down.

The Re-fall of the Wall …

With a cold drizzle that built into a series of mud puddles, crowds gathered to remember the 20^th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, or “Mauerfall,” as it is being called in German. The center of attention was the long row of 7-foot-tall handpainted dominos, most painted by schoolchildren from around the world, with a strong representation from Berlin schools. Several dominos were from Mexico, and portrayed the US/Mexico wall, as well as a “death trail.”

 

Once the evening’s official ceremonies started, large screens broadcast the center-stage events down the street. The dais included, among other distinguished political figures, Mikhail Gorbachev. He seemed to get the loudest cheers. Videos from the 1989 protests showed Germans shouting “Gorbi! Gorbi!”—he clearly earned folk-hero status.

The performances included a song by Placido Domingo that had the crowds bouncing and brought the dais to its feet. Bon Jovi performed, and then reflected on his presence at the wall in 1989; they project a video of his chipping off a piece of the wall from ’89.

Hillary Clinton represented my country (well), receiving cheers from the group standing on the roof of the American Embassy just next to the Brandenburg Gate. President Obama addressed the crowds via a video from Washington.

The Polish Solidarity movement was honored and given repeated, strong recognition. Several Solidarnoscść contingents were visible: one group was in charge of tumbling several of the dominos, another had large banners. Lech Wałęsa spoke from beneath an umbrella. Hillary Clinton was among those who praised the Solidarity movement.

When the dominos tumbled, they stopped midpoint at a stable concrete domino that did not budge: it was sent from the Goethe House in Beijing, and was decorated with characters that appeared to be Chinese, but in fact were invented characters spelling out a German poem. The halt at this block was set up as if it were a surprise element in the evening, and the program then reflected on the meaning of this block that was still left standing. After this intermittent moment, the domino tumbling continued, and finished its run. (After the ceremonies, this standing domino, bookended by the toppled blocks, attracted crowds of picture-takers.)

Security checkpoints were set up as you got closer to the Brandenburg gate, just to check for things like glass bottles in people’s bags. But at some point the guards held back the crowds, and a few took matters into their own hands and jumped the barricades, in an ironic re-enactment of the wall-crashing of ’89. At one point the guards must have let them through, as a heavier crowd started swarming down the sidewalk. But later I watched people held behind the barricades, even as those toward the front were starting to leave. I have a feeling there will be commentary about the irony of these actions on blogs.

The evening ended with dramatic, crowd-pleasing fireworks.

CNN Video of the Celebrations

U2 Concert at Brandenburg Gate

The band U2 gave a short concert in front of the Brandenburg Gate on November 5 to  celebrate the anniversary. They began the program with the tune “One” — a song from their album “Achtung Baby” (“Attention Baby”) which was recorded in Berlin in 1990 just after the reunification. In fact, this song drew its inspiration in part from the reunification. And the original recording of the song was a symbolic moment for the band, which was rumored to be near a break-up over disagreements over artistic direction until they recorded this.

Video of “One”at Brandenburg Gate

Check out the symbolism of the light show on the gate, and Bono’s “Happy Birthday Berlin” greeting.

Video of “Sunday, Bloody Sunday”

Free U2 show leads to Berlin ‘wall’ controversy

Publicity for the November 9 Berlin Wall Events

I have located a few billboards here and there but am struck at how little publicity there is in contrast to the publicity campaign in Leipzig. I hear that there was an issue with funding this year. Here a few examples. The ad for “Freedom Festival” lists the sponsors–a combination of public and private entities, including Coca Cola Deutschland.

The magazine Der Spiegel has published a special issue with a DVD for the anniversary.

 

Comic Relief, Berlin

I found this on what appears to be an abandoned pedestal of a former monument in front of the city hall in the former East Berlin. Assuming that Marx or Lenin once stood there.

Alexanderplatz, Berlin Public Display

Today, I strolled around this display of images and words documenting the East German resistance to the regime and the burst of freedom as individuals and families pushed their way through fences, over walls, and through the finally tumbling barricades. It is the largest public display of images from the era that I have seen so far. I learned that the designer’s purpose was to help East Germans regain their lost confidence, to demonstrate the power of their historical actions. As I read the display, a man approached me to offer his opinion. An East German who appeared to be in his sixties, he tried to explain in broken English why he was not happy with the changes. He said that before, he had work, and there was a feeling of community. Now he lives in his 1-room flat in East Berlin, and is very lonely. He said that many others are living there alone, also lonely. He told stories of suicides after 1989. He disparagingly and dismissingly gestured to a symbol of the changes just in front of us: a Western clothing store with the name “New Yorker” in shiny red letters. As he talked, tears welled up in his eyes, until he sauntered away. I am calling him “The Honest Stranger.”

Crowds push their way into West Berlin, 1989

Short documentary on the Wall, 1962

Video from a Berlin Wall checkpoint, Fall of 1989

Video on Dismantling of the Wall

Budapest, Hungary: October 23, 2009 Commemorations

Due to the violence that erupted in 2006, the government held a private ceremony at the parliament in Budapest, with heavy police presence surrounding the area. Onlookers could not get very close, although we could hear the music. This was about a 15-minute ceremony with a military band, and soldiers on horses that paraded through the square. The band played the national anthem as the flag was raised, and followed with a military march as the performers and invited guests walked toward the Imre Nagy monument, for a ceremony there.

A small group representing the Hungarian Guardists (a right-wing nationalist group which dresses in black) protested the ceremony, yelling “Liars!”, “Thieves!”, and “You had nothing to do with 1956!”      

One woman who was late for the ceremony as an invited guest tried to get access to the event at the monument, showing her invitation, but the police would not budge. She was adament and upset, saying “My father died in ’56.”

Gradually, more and more Hungarian Guardist members arrived, usually in groups, many bused in from other parts of Hungary. They held a service in a Protestant church near the Parliament, but the church was full, so others formed a growing crowd outside. They gathered into a march-style formation, and at one point they performed a military salute (without weapons). One member sported a Hitler-style mustache. I am told that the Guardist uniform is illegal in Hungary.

Later, a major rally took place in central Budapest near Deak Ter, lasting several hours. This event, complete with a stage, showcased the militant wing of the right-wing nationalist party, Jobbik, which now has 3 seats in the European Union Parliament as a result of the last elections. The Guardists are the private army of this party. Speakers included representatives of right-wing nationalist parties from other European countries, including Western Europe. But Jobbik boasted that it is the leader of nationalist party acivity in Europe. Several hundred people stood at attention in the street, most dressed in the black Hungarian Guardist uniform. Many of these carried gasmasks. There were several hundred additional onlookers–most supportive. The party calls for a return of former Hungarian lands where Hungarian minorities live, including Romania and Slovakia. The speakers made blatant anti-semitic statements, and are also opposed to Roma (Gypsy) rights. The mood was both angry and celebratory; there was a clear feeling of pride in the growing success for the party.

Although Jobbik and the Hungarian Guard have dominated the public anniversary “sphere” in Budapest (along with the characteristic symbol of the flag with the hole in it), I also saw the signs of broader remembrance of 1956 by Hungarians. Here is a new monument to 1956 (note the rust — similar to the Iron Curtain monument):

Budapest, Hungary October 23 Background

October 23 is a holiday in Hungary, and commemorates more than one (though connected) historical event.

On October 23, 1956, a huge outpouring of resistance to the system and to Soviet presence erupted in Hungary. Across the country, citizens were dismantling Soviet tanks and feeling confident that the Iron Curitain had been torn. In fact, this sentence appeared in the Soviet newspaper, Pravda: “[T]he Soviet Government is prepared to enter into the appropriate negotiations with the government of the Hungarian People’s Republic and other members of the Warsaw Treaty on the question of the presence of Soviet troops on the territory of Hungary.” (The 1956 Hungarian Revolution:  A History in Documents)

An important symbol of this uprising represents the removal of the communist government’s emblem in the center of the flag, resulting in a flag with a hole in it.

Twelve days later, however, the Soviets reversed course and quelled the uprising with tanks.  More than 2,000 people were killed through either fighting or executions, many others tortured, and more than 200,000 fled the country. Imre Nagy, who had once been premier of Hungary but ostracized by communist authorities, was premier again during the uprisings. But the crackdown also resulted in his execution.

In Budapest’s Museum of Terror, you can view a videotaped interview with one of the 1956 protesters. A feisty woman, she casually referred to this event as a “revolution” to a police officer, who responded “What do you mean? It wasn’t a revolution. It was a counter-revolution.” Her insistence at calling it a revolution won her a year in solitary confinement and at least one beating.

On October, 23, 1989, Hungarians publicly reburied Imre in a ceremony attended by thousands and televised publicly. A memorial to Imre Nagy sits near the parliament building in Budapest. 

On the 50th anniversary of the 1956 events, in 2006, right-wing protesters took over the day’s events, resulting in quite aggressive vandalism of buildings and cars, setting cars on fire and filling the city with smoke.

Post-October 9 Demonstration, Leipzig

On October 10, there was a demonstration against the October 9 commemorative events by approximately 100 young people, dressed in black, who marched from the  main train station to the central square, carrying banners critiquing the previous evening’s event as a waste of funds. Both banners and speeches raised questions about Germany’s progress since 1989; among the concerns was the country’s resistance to offering citizenships to people of non-German ethnic origin. One protester poured his bottle of beer over the new 1989 monument (in the shape of a golden egg) that Leipzigers had honored with candles the evening before. A small group of 6-7 counter protesters held signs criticizing this demonstration.

Democracy Market Leipzig October 9

Across late morning and afternoon of October, 9, several local groups set up display tables and shared stage  in the heavily-trafficked area of downtown Leipzig, most of which were activists representing causes such as environmental sustainability, anti-globalization, and anti-fascism. Other NGOs and charities were also present, including a church, which was represented by a youth choir performance. One of the more popular performances was a mock auction where an auctioneer auction offed Germany’s public institutions, such as the railway system, public hospitals, and its university system. The crowds got involved in the humor, with the public universities prompting a quite eager round of bidding.

Leipzig, Germany Commemoration October 9

The evening of October 9 began with a commemorative service in St. Nicholas Church, which played a major role in the resistance in 1989. The crowds then moved to the streets where they processed to the main square, accompanied by videos projected on building walls of the October 9, 1989 protests. Officials, including the mayor, presided over a ceremony before an artist’s display of each number of “1989” filled with lit votive candles. The crowd of approximately 100,000 then walked on a candle-light procession around the ring of the city, surrounded by public art using actors and lazer shows. Interestingly, the crowds continued to walk even after finishing the ring route, spontaneously placing candles at St. Nicholas Church, the Stasi museum, a new monument to 1989, and other symbolic places. 

 

See the Leipzig events on a free iPhone application: LVZ-mobile (might be in German)

Germany Celebrates 19th Anniversary of Unification

Germany Celebrates 19th Anniversary of Unification