Berlin is no longer an island

BERLIN — This city has always been an island, in some form or another. In the 13th century, early settlers built their houses on what is now called Museum Island, in the Spree River. In the decades following World War II, when Europe was divided, West Berlin was an outpost of democracy, a virtual island surrounded by barbed wire and machine gun turrets. More recently, the city has again felt like an island — peaceful, prosperous, unthreatened, far removed from the want and war tearing at more distant lands.

That illusion was shattered on Monday night when a truck plowed into a crowded Christmas market here, killing 12 people and injuring dozens. In the same way that the attacks of September 11, 2001 forced New Yorkers to realize they were not as removed from the world as they had thought, Berliners have awakened to the fact that their city is an island no more.

The overarching question now is, what can we do about it? Chancellor Angela Merkel has tried to do the right thing, by extending a helping hand toward the desperate. Roughly one million refugees arrived in 2015, followed by another 300,000 in 2016. For the most part, these have been families fleeing shattered homes, fearing for their lives. An aerial view of Aleppo 2016 looks eerily like Berlin 1945, two cities reduced to rubble.

And yet, despite that shared pain, there are those who would prefer that Germany lock the doors, close the windows, and withdraw into that virtual bunker called the nation state. Looming voices in other countries are calling for the same.

Merkel’s stance poses a challenge to her country. Who — she seems to be asking — can sit safe and secure while listening to the cries of women and children getting beaten or butchered? If Germans are not to open their doors to those in need, then there must be another solution. Doing nothing is morally untenable. The child whose birth was being celebrated in the Christmas market grew to tell the parable of the Good Samaritan — about neighbors helping neighbors. Germans are struggling to reconcile a society historically Christian in name with one that is also Christian in deed.

I moved to Berlin in the 1990s, when the papers were running headlines like, “The Wall is down,” “Germany Reunited,” “U.S.S.R. Passes into History.” The island of Berlin was being folded into a united country. Sweet words like perestroika, glasnost, European Union, Schengen, captioned our daily lives. Today, the city feels like it is once again on the frontline of history, but the mood is no longer so optimistic. The 21st century is about to have its own ‘20s. During the last century’s ’20s they had little idea what was coming. The questions looming today are, how are we different, how are we the same?

The evil man who plowed the truck into that crowd of souls was not acting on behalf of a bright future, but as part of our darkest past. ISIL has claimed the driver was acting on its behalf, “targeting citizens of the Crusader coalition.” The would-be caliphate, deploying the language and barbarity of the Dark Ages, may be able to grab a headline here or there. They can make tears and blood flow in painful moments. But here in Berlin, turn your head from such momentary scenes of havoc and it is easy to see instead countless examples of peaceful co-existence, differences not just tolerated but celebrated.

Today’s Berlin is a city that embraces all faiths. It has learned from its past mistakes. When I arrived in Berlin, I could see the hope in the faces gathering in the Breitscheidplatz, the square in which the truck did its damage. Not far away stands the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, intentionally left ruined as a grim reminder of the consequences of war. They have already begun clearing away the wreckage in the square. Once again, Berliners will catch their breaths. Once again, they will get on with it.

Time may move inexorably forward, but history does not follow a straight line, or a steady pace. The march is awkward. Two steps forward, one step back, two steps forward…

At least, we hope that’s the rhythm.

Michael Lederer is an American author living in Berlin.