Hope and resignation. Like oil and water, they do not mix well, yet those are the conflicting emotions that course through East Germany now that the Wall has come down. More of the former perhaps than the latter, as this artificially created country longs for a fresh start after 40 years of orthodox Communist rule, as it yearns for free, multi-party elections and economic rebirth.
The shock of Nov. 9, the day an embattled East German government allowed its people to cross their borders for at least a glimpse of the outside world, has yet to wear off. Those among the nearly 5 million people who, in little more than a week, made the journey cannot quite believe they did, and the faces of the thousands who pour through frontier crossings every day are bright with expectation. In Berlin, East Germans huddle over subway maps as they head into Western terra incognita, a place most of them know only from television; at other checkpoints their cars pile up for miles on end.
When they return home, though, East Germans now face an array of questions that seemed theoretical, if not downright irrelevant, only weeks ago. Do they want to build the future within the boundaries of the state as it presently exists? Would they be better off if the whole country were, in effect, annexed by Bonn? Could they hold their own in a partnership with West Germany? And perhaps most important, what are they -- East Germans or just Germans?
The euphoria of the moment has not removed all the reminders of how it was until very recently. On the route to Friedrichstrasse, a main Berlin crossing point, the subway train glides through two empty stations bricked up since 1961, when the Wall rose. The platforms are bare, eerily lighted by a few dusty neon tubes. East German border guards have learned to replace their studied sullenness of old with the occasional smile, but West Germans and others still must file through cattle-chute-like passport control points, and are made to exchange 25 deutsche marks ($13.50) for East German marks, at the usurious rate of 1 to 1, one-tenth the black market quote, for every day they spend in the German Democratic Republic. In the evenings, the smell of coal smoke hangs over gray, dilapidated cities -- as it did in the bitter days right after World War II.
What East Germans expect first of all from their new leaders is an effort to build "real Socialism" and sweep away the remnants of a corrupt and repressive regime. They want closer relations with their West German brethren, a growing together with the Federal Republic -- but not necessarily reunification; they insist on being accepted as they are. And finally, they demand economic reward, even though they know they are not likely to catch up with the West any time soon.
Still, the issue of identity nags: Is the G.D.R. a nation, a state, part of a country yet to be unified? "For 40 years we were just letters," says Christian Fuhrer, pastor of Leipzig's Nikolai Church. "G-D-R. But not German. Not democratic. Just letters. We are Germans, certainly. But our German history is submerged: 1917 is when it begins for our students. The people must develop an identity. Only then can we discuss reunification."