We had a tailwind. We had peace and believed that it would always go on like this. At least that's what the columnist thought in her boundless naivety. The pictures on her phone make her painfully aware that everything is different.
A few pictures popped up on my phone this morning from Moscow. Me on Red Square, in the ballet, with a (fake) fur hat. carefree. Multicoloured. Interesting. I remember loving walking around Moscow. With others, alone - I felt safe (after all, there were always a couple of guys behind me who made sure nothing happened to me, very nice). Well, it was a press trip, four years ago, and I didn't think it would get to the point where I would have to say to my children: "Destination Moscow? About as good an idea as Tehran or Myanmar." I'm sorry, no, correcting myself, it hurts to say this because I would like my children and I to be able to explore Moscow, Tehran and Myanmar. What fascinating places in this world, full of culture and good food, nice people and wonderful landscapes.
But nothing there: Canceled due to the political world situation. An old acquaintance from America recently told me again how he traveled the world for months, if not years, back in the sixties of the last century, via Morocco to Afghanistan to the deepest, smokiest corners of Burma (today Myanmar). I've known for a long time that I probably won't embark on a trip of this kind. Firstly, because I'm a woman (weak argument, I know), secondly, because I've never had months (stupid argument, should be able to change), thirdly, because I've become too comfortable (really stupid argument, was recently). I still camp), and fourthly, because I would have to travel overland, like my friend did back then, through Iraq and Iran (really stupid idea at the moment). And finally, the seating at Easy-Jet annoys me. Regardless, I never thought that I could ever feel as restricted as I do today, 2022. In 2019, many were still toying with the idea of a holiday home on Malle, but now they're glad they didn't take that step, because I don't see anyone anymore jet somewhere "once a month." I keep hearing that they only fly intercontinentally or if there is no other choice. And these many weekends in the most beautiful cities in Europe seem to me to be from another century.
And that is by far not the most problematic thing that is not possible at the moment. At the beginning of the week, our Federal President gave a speech on the state of the nation, which - whatever you like about Mr. Steinmeier - has a certain "jerk" quality ("A jerk must go through Germany", Roman Herzog, Federal President 1994 -99) had. Twenty-five years later, Steinmeier calls the years before February 24, 2022, before Russia's hostile attack on Ukraine, the "epoch of the tailwind." I'll quote a bit more, because I really still can't believe that this tailwind should no longer blow (although I feel an unpleasant jolt in my back): "These were years marked by the happy moment of German unity, by the peaceful departure of the Soviet troops, the end of the bloc confrontation, and the growing together of Europe. They were years of peace dividends, from which we Germans in the middle of a united Europe benefited greatly." It's correct. But why should this be over now?
My friend F. recently said: "Look, Sabine, we've had peace for over 70 years." Yes and? I thought, probably in my infinite naivety, that it would stay that way. And yes, we're not personally at war, but it feels very much on the doorstep. Of course, the Russian and Ukrainian and Iranian and Afghan friends have other concerns than "How and where will I be able to travel?" or "What am I going to wear tonight?". The whole structure is insane, and as my smart friend B. put it so nicely, "Everything would collapse in Jenga right now."
When general conscription was abolished in 2011 and the Bundeswehr became a volunteer army, I thought that we had "made it": Everyone loves each other, and those who don't love each other yet, we'll convince them, and if we do they too have to cuddle death. We finally learned from wars, from mistakes in history - I thought - man has progressed, has developed and has asked himself often enough to quote Udo Lindenberg: "What are wars for?" Another war on our continent - knowing full well that there were wars everywhere else in the world even during our "tailwind phase" - seemed impossible to me.
Back to Moscow, I rode the subway there, better and more relaxed than in New York, I walked the streets in the dark - better than Berlin's Wilmersdorfer Strasse in the light - and I imagined getting into the car sit down and drive out of Moscow, further, to Siberia. I'm horrified that I can't even theoretically dream these dreams in front of me in my head cinema. I am sad that I cannot travel to wonderful Ukraine. I really can't find any words for the fact that my Ukrainian friends won't find a stone upon another in their home country.
At a time when we have Chinese police offices in the middle of Germany and have to barter parts of a port, albeit for strategic reasons, when a multi-billionaire buys a social network and runs it like a sun king, at times when people believe getting stuck on the pavement or having to throw mashed potatoes at valuable paintings to draw attention to the world's climate catastrophe because they see no other way, hops and malt seem lost. I feel like I'm in the Stone Age. My daughter recently asked me, "Mom, how do you think people will look back on this time in 20 to 30 years? Do you think people will think we're intelligent?" Her question shook and reassured me in equal measure: it shook me because I don't think our descendants will think of us as incredibly intelligent in 20 to 30 years, and she reassured me because she actually thinks that this earth is heading into our twenties thirty years from now and there will be people or beings who will be able to ask such questions at all.
My basic attitude, which I was born with, is quite optimistic (thanks to my parents for that), but how do those who always thought everything was just mediocre to lousy do it? I'd rather go to church this Sunday, light some candles. A peaceful weekend to you!
