Ken
Okiishi
New
York/Ljubljana/Tokyo/Kyoto/New York, August-September 2015
Dear Germany,
There is so much I want to tell you, even though you shatter my mind
every time I hear your name or try to form a coherent thought about
you. And it feels strange to read and hear your name so much recently,
to be reminded of you, so often. To see you simultaneously celebrated
as the place that is saving the world and derided as destroying
Europe--from all angles, left and right. Remember Greece? I know, it is
hard, a few months later, with all of these smiling Syrian refugees and
their adoration of, what???, who??? Angela Merkel?? HALLO MAMA?? Who
would want that as a Mother? Doesn't anyone remember what she did on
television a few months ago to the child of a migrant family who
confronted her in perfect German on German immigration policies and the
terror of her probable deportation??
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3163899/Angela-Merkel-condemned-heartless-bringing-Palestinian-child-tears-TV-girl-asks-deported-German-leader-says-t-come.html
I couldn't stop crying, out of shock and outrage when I saw this.
But I do have to admit that I also teared up a little when I saw the
press photos of the crowds in Munich cheering the asylum seekers'
arrival a few weeks ago. I was on a train to Kyoto from Tokyo, where I
had just done a gallery exhibition, and where I am always put under the
identitarian microscope. Somehow it was more intense this
time--I was extra sensitive. I cried about those chocolate bars handed
to refugee children; I cried because it seemed Germany really had
changed--suddenly, magically, overnight.
But I am no longer crying. My skepticism has returned, with images of
refugees housed in former concentration camps (really? Dachau??)
reminding me that everything isn't necessarily so amazing. The yoyo of
German experiments with its brand identity and image politics these
days is migraine-inducing to anyone who tries to track it. Broadcast
instantaneously all over the globe: Look at that--all those men
clutching pictures of Angela Merkel: Germany is AMAZING! All those
children with signs saying, "We want Germany." All those lovely Munich
people with their charmingly misspelled banner: "Wellcome in Germany."
They are so kind, generous, warm, welcoming, etc. These sorts of images
would have been seen, internally, in the Germany that I became familiar
with over the last few decades, as crass or artificial, in that
peculiar way that you, Dear Germany, are so good at maneuvering
generally dishonest situations by affirming a supposedly heartfelt,
brutal sense of honesty. Or maybe, could this be that we are witnessing
something like Angela Merkel's personal struggle ballooning into a
German-nation awakening to the potential affective pleasures of
globalization? (Everyone knows you just need skilled workers--like
millions of them--or the economy will imminently fail. But that is
easier said than done, and rather boring to talk about only in economic
and population figures. Reprogramming a population raised on
countrified notions of in-group and out-group is, of course, rather
difficult.)
*
*
*
Change to: Dear Berlin?? or at some point say: this letter probably
should be addressed "Dear Berlin." But as Berlin in the news has often
become shorthand for German policy in general and the place where
German policy is decided and sent out from. Less general or more
specific? Or are "Berlin" and "Germany" basically the same thing now
anyway? At some point, when I was reading this political
personification "Berlin" in the news ("Berlin plans for possible Greek
euro exit"; "Berlin's eyes on Athens"; "Berlin threatens neighbors over
migration"; "Berlin threatens to tighten purse strings on funding for
EU's eastern neighbors"), I realized that I strangely recognize this
place as the neoliberal bastion that it so vehemently denies having
become. The countercultural atmospheres of the Berlin that
intersected with the Berlin that I knew and loved in the 2000s cannot
overtake the general thrust of the nation anymore. In the news, the
asylum seekers always say they want to end up in the same few cities:
Munich, Frankfurt, Hamburg, Stuttgart... I keep seeing this list, and
strangely Berlin is missing. Perhaps it is too close to the probable
Neo-Nazi zones? (Or, the more cynically-minded question: Perhaps it is
perceived to be too decadent, with too many Jews and Gays, for the
Syrian refugees to stomach?)
The racism of a place that is still new to welcoming foreigners, and
the luxury problems of rich foreigners on permanent holiday in this
"bargain basement" of semi high-quality real estate and places to go
out. Reading the New York Times today: "Chancellor Angela Merkel put it
this month, 'Those who do not come because of political persecution or
war but for economic reasons will not be able to stay.'" I think she is
referring only to poor people.
*
*
*
Liebes Deutschland,
So you have finally sort of won the war. You are now economically in
control of Europe, with all of these little German-aspirational pockets
simulating your provincial shopping-mall style city plans and clinical
neo-classical postmodern architectural detailing. Somehow, even Paris
starts to look a bit like Manufactum now. You now basically also own
the country that has long been one of your favorite vacation spots,
where it is always hot during your awful winters. And, only a few
months after the image-crisis of the then-looming Grexit, you are also
seen as a significant humanitarian nation spearheading the Syrian
refugee crisis.
Only a few months ago, let's return to that: you were so rigorously
brutal, with no problem looking bad if it served your carefully
shielded interests. The ethical questions, the Machiavellian questions
of image politics, seemed irrelevant. Your only relationship to images
was the crass delusions of tabloids. You were willing to be
horrendously ugly and ascetically miserable if it made you financially
rich. Vacation was more important than life. You were are so
confidently tacky; you were so at ease in brazen, ugly skin.
You were stuck still playing out the horrific clichéd
patterns of postwar German identity: Victims are always perpetrators
and perpetrators are always, collectively, vehemently and emotionally
shielded from blame. Being ashamed is always a legitimate excuse for
violent ignorance--and going on vacation. The victim is normally at
fault as the general population almost instinctually shields
perpetrators from having agency or responsibility. Etc.
In the case of Greece, the extreme German financial benefits of
globalization were never seen as having anything to do with Greece's
debt crisis. Why should the Bank, even a predatory one, have any
sympathy to the borrower, if they can both get paid back by someone
else a few times over and have first dibs at buying the borrowers
assets at rock bottom prices? It was horrendous, the German image
problems three months ago.
But then the Syrians walked across the border.
Did everything change? Did anything change? Who handed out all of those
photos of Angela Merkel to the hopeful immigrants? Who handed out
supplies to make signs that said, in the colors of the German flag, "We
want Germany"??
*
*
*
Liebes Berlin,
It was 2001. Right before September. I had just graduated from Art
School in downtown New York, and I went to you trying to find the
kinship of a distant homeland: you see, I am "half" you. That was the
mythology of my childhood. That was the fantasy of my Japanese-American
father, that my mother looked best when driving a Volkswagen bug from
the sixties. That she looked so right in it; so what she really was; so
German.
I really really tried to learn your modularly unnatural grammar, your
amazing spontaneous omnibus words. I was also simultaneously trying to
make money teaching English--which proved rather unpredictably
traumatic. I had been so good at teaching English before moving to
Germany. And then everyone started questioning whether this slanty-eyed
young English teacher could actually speak English, "correcting" me
over and over in unintelligible yet forcefully grunted para-English.
This proved devastating to my ability to learn or speak any language
for awhile. There was the 4 AM class at the Bayer pharmaceutical
factory where a room full of people asked question after question about
where I was from and whether or not I really was a native English
speaker and the truth was that I must actually be scamming them and
where were my parents from and what was my last name. They then
attempted to demonstrate, as I tried to continue the day's lesson, how
I clearly did not speak English because, as they insisted on showing me
over and over, English was not the same as German, so I must be wrong.
While this may seem a rather bizarre concept, since it is so
unbelievably illogical (that someone must be wrong because they are not
the same as you, do not fit into your delusions of authenticity, and
are not telling you that everything is the same as you think it is),
there is a certain infantile narcissism that unfortunately has been
rather basic to contemporary German identity. It is what is both so
baffling and terrifying to foreigners in Germany: that these miserable
people truly believe the rest of the world should be like them. That
there is no subtle difference in the world, only Inland and
Ausland. As if these categories could actually be relevant;
as if there could even be such an important thing as "inside" and
"outside" this ill-tempered place. It is telling that there is no
adequate word in the German language to convey what we mean when we say
subtle.
All of this has become pure EU, German-hegemonic ideology at this
point: the German people blindly hold up this false division between
inside and outside to generally shield themselves from acknowledging
the parasitic traps of the German financial system that everyone in
Europe, Germans included, is beholden too. Xenophobia as distraction
from pointing the finger in the right direction. Xenophobia as
antidepressant.
So, dearest Germany, in the special harsh way you treat everyone, not
just foreigners, this may not seem like a big deal to you. These are
the tough chips dealt by life, so deal with it. It is true
that I, as a young English teacher in Berlin, started lying that I was
born in New York City, since the glamour of that overtook my
potentially confusing foreign appearance: a positive exoticism overtook
a negative one. When you are in the business of language-teaching, you
are in the business of knowledge and authenticity: I had to accept
this. And this tactic worked particularly well with lonely middle-aged
single women with a tiny but of income to spare on private English
lessons and big dreams of visiting the big apple. Where did you grow
up? The East Village? That must have been wonderful. But you are
Japanese--oh, your father is from Hawaii? I've always wanted to go to
Hawaii. It must be very nice there. etc I was able to pay my share of
the rent; eat 3 Euro fried rice from Schmeckt und Billig; and go out at
night sometimes. Ahhhhh-- La Vie Bohème of Berlin in the
early 2000s...
But back to the business of knowledge and authenticity: This is where,
dearest Germany, you really fuck people up.
(As I mentioned in one of the previous drafts of this letter, we all
know what Chancellor Merkel is willing to say on TV to the child of a
hopeful immigrant, currently in migration limbo, who addressed her in
perfect German about her life dreams in Germany that will be thwarted
when she faces deportation with her family. None of the positive press
images of hopeful refugee immigrants clutching official images of
Merkel can wipe away this lived image with the child. It is burned into
my mind forever. And I remember when I googled it--and watched, in the
middle of the night, in bed. And I cried not because I felt political
empathy for this brilliant and heroic child; not because I identified
with her; but because I identified with the brazen way you were
treating her. Loosely translated, you actually said that it didn't
matter that she was a human standing in front of you, but that if you
said "Yes, you can all come," then everyone from Africa would think
they could come too. To the face of a migrant child, in a room full of
children, recorded, on television, you are willing to utter this
outrageously xenophobic morass of free-associations. And a month later
you are welcoming tens of thousands of refugees from somewhere else?
This is what it feels like to be treated in a certain feign-confused
and distanced way when asking for a simple loaf of Landbrot each
morning in a Berlin bakery--and learning to swallow that ritual of
arbitrary alienation.
That's what happens, why your hegemony is so successful, reconstitutive
and destructive at the same time. Anyone within it who is structurally
disadvantaged by it gets angry, even rebels, so brilliantly and
strategically puts emotional life on display--but eventually gives in
and gives up to it. To you. There is no flexibility, on a micro or
macro level. There is no human feeling, no sense of the social, only
the inputs and outputs of data and the machinations of sets of rules.
There are only the clichés of your national identity, which
must be continuously re-inscribed and broadcast. You have finally
managed to find a productive scapegoating system within international
law that has the benefits of both the external and internal
colonization: whereas projecting all your troubles on the Jews of
Europe had famously disastrous consequences, you have learned from your
post-WWII partial colonizers, the USA, that scapegoats must be
omnidirectional. (And that you can't directly kill people, especially
if they have outside sympathizers.) Whatever scapegoated group has to
be able to absorb both good and bad qualities; be mobilized and/or shut
down at any time; they have to be local mythologies and internationally
accepted statistics at the same time; they have to be part of daily
conversation but not physically present enough to create human empathy;
all complex feelings must be eradicated, since those are too difficult
to manipulate; and, unlike what you did with the partially enacted
genocide of European Jews, many of the scapegoated group must
eventually agree with your take on them and eventually cross over, must
want to become the negative image of "them": the negation of the
negation produces a new subjectivity. Finally, there will be "good"
hybrid cultural Germans again. A German-Greek colonial-style identity
is not so far off, in your strategy. (Strangely, it is the fulfillment
of Hitler's and Heidegger's fantasy life as well.)
So with Greece, they will first appreciate the newly well-functioning
airports, managed by Frankfurt's Fraport. (Never mind, and always
forget, that Germany has failed to build an airport in Berlin due to
its own internal mafia-style corruption and endemic bureaucratic
communication disasters; always forget that the ICE train is always
late and may even break-down mid-route; always forget that the trains
in Germany are rarely on time). Then the international elite community
will visit the experimental communications interface Documenta, and see
how, in fact, Germans are radically open minded. (Everyone in Greece
should have been paying attention with careful scrutiny to predict that
a neo-liberal colonization of Greece was underway when a Polish-born
curator was approved to head a Documenta in Greece. In typical German
political style, it offers a perfect Left-Right coalition: German guilt
re: Poland offers a perfect example of cultural ambassador of the
imagined success of former-east former-west unification to the new
neo-colony who will educate them to the unresolvability of cultural
contradictions displayed in constantly shifting prismatic
constellations of endless undecidability. Perhaps Adam, who, all
sarcasm aside, is actually a brilliant curator, will present a Trojan
horse. Perhaps it will be like the famous Danish artist of Vietnamese
extraction. It will be an even more perfect falsely successful and
elaborate example of the imagined success of a brand new, united and
multicultural Europe. Perhaps it will be like the USA in the 1980s and
90s. And as all minoritarian Americans who grew up in the shadow of the
system of tokenism that emerged during this time know almost
instinctually, the gravy train of elite status does not automatically
create structural redistributions of power among the general
population; it more often than not simply makes mildly more diverse
dinner parties. It is an important step in the process; but only if the
chosen elites continue a political labor within these dinner party
conversations and in then do something about it. Tokenism also, as we
now also instinctually know, can create blockades and in-fighting, as
the power gained by the few can be seen as easily threatened and
precariously sustained.)
Oh, dear Germany, how far astray you make me go to say everything I
have to say to you. How disorganized my thoughts become every time I
try to think about you--to figure out why I hate you so much, and why I
even care that I hate you so much. How shrewd a political method it is
to make the outsiders so confused that they can't even formulate
coherent thoughts. Oh, dear Germany.
The emergence of "Mama Merkel" is perhaps the most brilliant of your
recent confusion tactics. How can it be that the same Chancellor, who
very publically stated that "multiculturalism has utterly failed" only
a few years ago, is now your living Statue of Liberty? Now, whatever
your diverse or un-diverse opinions of individual streams of
multicultural ideology may be, it is actually rather impossible to
claim that multiculturalism ever really happened in a place where
basically only people with "German blood" had the right to vote until
very recently. What? Huh? You might say. Is that even possible?
One of my brighter days in Berlin--when I finally felt connected in my
alienation--was a conference at the Haus der Kulturen der Welt (next
door to Merkel's office) a few years ago. One of the culminating
moments was when a young political activist who had just given a
presentation raised the question if multiculturalism had ever actually
occurred in Germany. His evidence? Until the law change in 1999 that
granted partial Jus Soli citizenship rights for certain individuals
born in Germany, the population living in Germany with guest-worker
status and/or parents or grand-parents with guest-worker status and no
German "blood" in the family line, had no voting rights, and becoming a
citizen was made prohibitively complicated, confusing and/or expensive.
(And, it should be added here, that it is still, to this day, unclear
whether the prohibition on dual citizenship for non-EU (read between
the lines: non-white) citizens is intentionally or just out of
ignorance a blockade to gaining voting rights.)
This basic right: the right to vote. How amazing that no one had ever
told me about this--that we were living among people who had not been
given the right to vote on fundamentally racist grounds. That we were
living among people who had lived their entire lives in Germany, but
who were not allowed, as a right, the most basic way of participating
in a democratic society until very recently. Voting rights, it seemed,
to this American, were an issue that ended in the 1960s! That Mama
Merkel, the leader of Europe and supposed hero of the refugee crisis,
could be the same person who thought that multiculturalism had existed
(and failed) in a country where people without German "blood" were
unlikely to have been able to vote for most of the multicultural
"experiment," should be particularly alarming.
So, dearest Germany, liebes Deutschland, dear Berlin, whatever.
What happens when we all become, as financialized entities on the
global stage, a little bit Deutsch? Like the way Americans, through
bourgeois-revolutionary transference of political philosophy, all
became a little bit French in the late 18th century; or how all
Americans are, as the first-generation conceptual artist Adrian Piper
has brilliantly insisted since her "first high school biology term
paper in genetics in 1962" until her "public announcement of her
retirement from being 'black' in 2012," all Americans are racially
mixed--meaning, the concept of race is an outmoded and simultaneously
pernicious and aggressively re-inscribed fiction. Liebes Deutschland,
it would be wonderful if the same could be said of the concept of race
in your Europe as well. How many of your even-progressive citizens have
told me at a dinner party that you do not, in contemporary Germany,
have problems of racism as "we" do in America or as "they" do in
France; how wonderful it must be to be blind to racism when migration
is mistaken for immigration, and all of this is still a brutally new
reality to you. How wonderful it must feel to welcome refugees
spontaneously and suddenly, to feel the global swell of joy that
Germany has finally become a welcoming and wonderful and happy global
place. How great it must feel to be so blissfully naive in magical
thinking.
Could there be a "German dream," with all of the problems and
aspirations of the "American Dream"? It's pretty amazing how this
"dream" ideology, that is so thoroughly problematized within American
discourse that it bring yawns and eye-rolls if anyone brings it up in
earnest, could feel so new and naive and fresh in Germany.
Dear Berlin,
Good luck.
Mit freundlichen Grüßen,
Ken Okiishi