Cold War Reflections

For most Americans, it was a one-and-done news item. Helmut Kohl, the former chancellor of Germany, had died. He was 87. And in other news … .

But Kohl, who harkened back to another era, left an important legacy. He had been chancellor of WEST Germany and then presided over its reunification with the East. He helped demolish the Berlin Wall and thaw the Cold War.

To me, Kohl was a reminder of a world that–for all of the anxiety and angst over Communist-Democratic hostility and ideological enmity–was a better place than the one we now inhabit. I’m not exactly nostalgic for the Cold War, but it never approached the ubiquitous, paranoid–“see something, say something”–existential threat now represented by the utter incompatibility of radical Islam and the West.

Whether it was the Cuban Missile crisis or an allies-Soviet standoff in Berlin, there was always one key constant: Nobody wanted to die. Ultimately, an accommodation could be reached and face–and lives–could be saved. Put it this way: It’s not inconceivable to say, in effect, to a would-be jihadist, “I’ll kill you” and have the response be: “Thank you.” Not much leverage when the afterlife and a gaggle of virgins beckon.

Frankly, it’s a lot less scary when the opposition is referencing The Communist Manifesto instead of cherrypicking a holy book. It might not be the height of rationalization to prefer being the bourgeoisie rather than the infidel.

The death of Kohl also transported me back to the ’70s when, as an ingenuous free-lancer, I found myself at “Checkpoint Charlie,” the East-West tripwire in Berlin on a blustery, cold February day. Willy Brandt was the chancellor then. I was interviewing American G.I.s in their grim, little guard house, plopped down in the middle of Friedrichstrasse.

In the middle of mini interviews that were equal parts informal and awkward–was I actually a spy with a spot-on Philadelphia accent?– the sergeant in charge leaned in and handed me his binoculars. He said to focus on the guard tower on the other side of the wall about 50 yards  away. “Check it out,” he said.

I did. And what I saw took me aback. It was an East German guard staring back at me through his binoculars. I was tempted to wave, but thought that might be a rules-of-engagement reach. I’ve often wondered what that guard’s response would have been had I given him that friendly salute. He just might have responded in kind. We had something in common. We were all cold, and nobody wanted to die.

Those were the days.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *