Berlin

The agonizing debate about how to deal with Germany’s past in the new capital reflected a deeper quandary about national identity in the late 1990s—two-thirds of a century after the founding of the Third Reich, a half-century since the German division, and a decade since the fall of the Berlin Wall. Although many Germans worried about how the transfer of their capital from Bonn to Berlin would be perceived abroad, the move was actually more unsettling at home than outside Germany, for it made the question of the new nation’s “normality” all the more pressing. The shift to Berlin signaled the final end of the Federal Republic’s provisionality and limited sovereignty. Did this mean that Germany could act just like any other nation when it came to matters of national pride and the articulation of national interests? Assessing the predicament of the impending “Berlin Republic” in 1997, the American scholars Andrei Markovits and Simon Reich were confident that the country would remain democratic, but were less certain that it would find a way to act responsibly and consistently on the world stage. “In the context of national power,” they wrote, “Germany’s self-understanding remains murky. Germany vacillates between an overbearing projection of power (mainly, though not exclusively, in the realm of the economy) and a reticence about admitting that power; the country’s identity remains uncertain and ill-defined in the area of power as it is crystal clear in the domain of democracy.”

It is too early to tell how the experience of ruling from Berlin will affect German foreign policy. Very probably, being back in the traditional capital—if one can use the word “traditional” for an experience that lasted only seventy-four years—will heighten the Germans’ desire to behave like a “normal” nation when it comes to the projection of power. At the same time, however, it will make an “escape from the past”—should that be anyone’s intention—even harder to manage than was the case when quiet little Bonn, the town “without a history” (in Adenauer’s phrase), set the tone. The “ghosts of Berlin” will see to that.

But even if these spirits were not dutifully hovering over the old Reichshauptstadt, waving their sheets like caution flags, the new capital is not the sort of place to inspire illusions of grandeur. Germany might be a powerful nation, but Berlin is not the political and economic center of gravity it once was. The decentralization of power and influence that began with the German division will be altered somewhat by the move to Berlin, but not as much as opponents to the shift have suggested. With six ministries and fully two-thirds of the central government’s 25,000 bureaucrats staying in Bonn, the Rhineland city will remain a significant player in German politics. Frankfurt, home of the new European Central Bank, will continue to be Germany’s (and the Continent’s) financial center, Hamburg will still be a major force in publishing, Stuttgart will remain the capital of cars, and Munich, despite much hand-wringing about “Der Sieg der Saupreussen,” will remain an important cultural center and power broker in national politics.