Direct Experience and Knowing at Second Hand
The discussion above of Moog, Kolbe, and Wagner’s resistance to being recruited by the Stasi as informants shows the role that intuitive or heuristic knowledge could play in informing decisions (including impulsive decisions) on how to act in threatening situations. Wagner’s report of his arrest at the Czech-Austrian border is another example of heuristic knowledge being deployed to identify a threat, although Wagner suggests that he was rather slow to do so. After his arrest and release, he was ordered to leave the border area: he was subsequently followed by a “junger Wanderer” (young rambler), a “shadow” for 60km by bus and hitchhiking all the way to Brno.
1Wagner, “Stasi-Gift,” 10. In the interview with Windsor, Wagner recalls the strange and suspicious behaviour of the young man: “Aber das war dann auffällig, wenn ich zum Bus rannte, rannte er hinterher, sprang mit in den Bus rein, wenn ich in ein Museum ging, als ich wieder rauskam, saß er davor, und so weiter” (but that was striking, when I ran for the bus, he ran behind me and jumped onto the bus, when I went into a museum, when I came out again, he was sitting in front of it, and so on). However, it is not until the man asks Wagner if he plans to write about the journey that Wagner realises the man’s agenda, at which point he confronts him, receiving the response “daß er nur seine Pflicht tue” (that he is just doing his duty).
2Wagner, “Stasi-Gift,” 10.Wagner’s story suggests that he had a generalised understanding of how a spy would likely behave and he is (eventually) able to identify the young man’s purpose on that basis. However, not all knowledge held within the networks was based purely or even mainly on such rules of thumb (i.e., if a person appears to be following you and is curious about your work, he is likely a spy). Sometimes, knowledge circulating in the networks was based on the direct experience of others with the secret police. We can understand this as a form of knowledge “at second hand,” as it is understood in analytic philosophy, that is knowledge that is “justified by the authority of a speaker,” here authority born of direct experience and a relationship of trust (something we explore in more detail in chapter 2).
3McMyler, Testimony, Trust, and Authority, 1.In some cases, this knowledge functioned similarly to the familial knowledge that Moog describes in the context of the attempted recruitment, that is, it helped the individual to decide on a course of action in a potentially threatening situation. To give a further example, in 1981, Moog was involved in the production of an anthology of young writers in the GDR, a project driven by the established writers Franz Fühmann and Stephan Hermlin.
4For a discussion of the emergence and suppression of the anthology, see: Costabile-Heming, “Surveillance and the GDR’s Cultural Sphere”; Michael, “Eine verschollene Anthologie.” The Stasi got hold of a copy of the unpublished anthology and began to place extreme pressure on the young authors involved, including an intensification of observation. Moog recalls that she received advice from Fühmann:
dass das Beste ist, dass wir uns jetzt alle ruhig verhalten, nicht mehr provozieren, weil die Stasi eben wirklich zu Mitteln greift und sozusagen die Instrumente gezeigt hat … Also, es gab dann auch Verhaftungen, und auch so, dass Leute noch mehr beobachtet wurden als vorher … Und er [Fühmann] hat also uns Autoren zu verstehen gegeben, dass wir uns möglichst eben also zurückhaltend verhalten sollen, also, keine Lesungen [zu machen], bei denen die Stasi anwesend seien würde. Und, [dass wir] eben auch vorsichtig in den Kontakten untereinander [sein sollten], weil eben alle unter ganz besonderer Beobachtung standen.
5Interview with Christa Moog, August 25, 2021.[that the best thing is for us all to keep quiet now, to avoid further provocations, because the Stasi really did resort to measures and showed their instruments, so to speak … Well, there were also arrests, and people were watched even more than before … And he [Fühmann] advised us authors that we should behave as cautiously as possible, i.e., not [give] any readings where the Stasi would be present. And [that we] should also be careful in our contacts with each other, because everyone was under particular observation.]
From 1954 to 1959, Fühmann was registered with the MfS as an IM under the code name “Salomon.” However, as he neither provided reports nor was willing to attend covert meetings, the Stasi eventually released him from his obligation.
6Rüther, “Franz Fühmann.” Gradually, Fühmann began distancing himself from the SED government, feeling betrayed and increasingly disillusioned. As will be discussed in chapter 3, Fühmann later became the subject of intense observation by the Stasi.
7See also Costabile-Heming, “Surveillance and the GDR’s Cultural Sphere.” Here we see the older writer—who had his own experiences with the secret police—giving concrete advice to his younger colleagues on how to respond to a given situation, and, in particular, when to pull back from a confrontation with the state and avoid a potentially catastrophic escalation.
Indeed, there were other, more certain, forms of knowledge that circulated in the literary sphere: knowledge based on the Stasi revealing themselves not only through recruitment attempts but also through intimidation, arrest, and imprisonment of those viewed as being in opposition to the SED. In her interview with Windsor, Wegner recalled telling her parents about her traumatic experiences in Stasi custody (Untersuchungshaft) following her arrest in 1968 for distributing pamphlets protesting against the GDR’s involvement in suppressing the Prague Spring. Similarly to Moog’s experience of attempted recruitment, intimate familial trust played a fundamental role in her ability to speak openly with her parents about her treatment by the Stasi. From a political standpoint, this trust and support were not guaranteed in light of her parents’ commitment to the Communist cause, but the strength of their familial bonds meant they stood by her when their hardline Communist acquaintances suggested they distance themselves from their daughter: “Und dann haben beide Eltern gesagt, ‘Ja, sie hat ’n Fehler gemacht, aber sie ist doch unser Kind, wir lieben die. Das geht nich.’ … Dit war sehr wichtig. So’ne Eltern zu haben, so’ne Schwester zu haben, war toll. Dit war’n großer Schutz” (and then both of my parents said “yes, she made a mistake, but she’s still our child and we love her. We can’t do that [abandon her].” … That was really important. To have parents like that, and a sister like that, was brilliant. It was great protection.)
8Interview with Bettina Wegner, August 23, 2021. For Wegner, the family was a sanctuary where she could share her testimony in and with confidence.
In the interview with Windsor, Stötzer asserts that she and her artist colleagues did not speak about the Stasi to avoid giving it power in their interactions. On the other hand, she states that she wrote her account of her imprisonment (discussed in more detail in chapter 3) precisely to convey the experience to her friends and persuade them that their route to the West should not be “durch ’n Knast” (via prison).
9Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021. She notes that she did not end up in prison again exactly because her first experience of incarceration functioned as a kind of “Schutzimpfung” (immunisation) and she knew where the boundaries of dissent lay.
10Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021. Stötzer asserts explicitly that her knowledge of the Stasi was not abstract, but acquired through direct experience:
Also, ich war nicht eine, die was gemacht hat, und hat von der Staatssicherheit gewusst, sondern ich hab sie gesehen. Die Staatssicherheit waren die Menschen in zivil. Das waren die nicht in Uniform, ne? Und ich hatte die ja von Anfang an, dass die mich verhaftet haben, vernommen haben, dass ich im Gefängnis war, ich hatte die alle so. Ich wusste, wo die in Erfurt sind, wo in Erfurt die Vernehmer sitzen, wo U-Häftlinge sitzen. Ich wusste das alles, ja?
11Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021.[Well, I wasn’t someone who did something and knew about the State Security Service, rather I saw them. The State Security were people in civilian clothes. They weren’t in uniform, right? And I had them [in my life] from the beginning, they arrested me, questioned me, I was in prison, I had them all like that. I knew where they were in Erfurt, where the interrogators were in Erfurt, where the remand prisoners were. I knew all that, yes?]
She describes the year she spent in prison as a sharp learning experience: “also ich bin da wirklich ins kalte Wasser gefallen und hab da ganz viel gelernt über Frauen und na ja, kam dann wieder raus und wusste eigentlich alles” (I mean I really fell in at the deep end and learnt lots about women and well, was released again and knew everything, in fact).
12Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021.Initially, Stötzer explains, she was too traumatised to speak about those things she had learnt—that is, too traumatised to share her knowledge:
Ich hab ein Jahr nach’m Gefängnis nicht geredet, mit niemand. Was hätt ich den Leuten erzählen sollen? Sollte ich ihnen das erklären, was sie gar nicht wissen wollten? Oder durften? Das gab’s ja nicht in der DDR, ja. Und da hab ich nur gemalt in der Zeit. Ganz innige Bilder von innen, ja. Und nach’m Jahr hab ich dann langsam angefangen wieder, meine Mutter hat gesagt: “Du bist viel gewandert. Du hast nicht geredet.”
13Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021.[I didn’t talk, not to anyone, for a year after [I left] prison. What was I supposed to tell people? Was I supposed to tell them what they absolutely didn’t want to know? Or weren’t allowed [to know]? That didn’t happen in the GDR, right. And all I did in that time was paint. Very intimate pictures from within. And then after a year I gradually started again, my mother said: “You went walking a lot. You didn’t talk.”]
This reference to her mother indicates that—unlike Moog and Wegner—Stötzer had not even been able to talk about her experiences with her family, at least to begin with. Although she would come to exploit her freedom and channel her energies into experimental art and activities, Stötzer’s experience of Stasi interrogation and prison meant that she lost her previous “Leichtigkeit” (effortlessness) and “hohe theoretische Intellektualität” (high theoretical intellectuality): “nach’m Gefängnis flog ich eigentlich nicht mehr mit meinem Geist, ja? Also … da war ich so unten gelandet, dass ich dann wirklich mehr oder minder gekrochen bin und … sowieso kein Vertrauen mehr hatte, auch keinen Glauben mehr hatte, sowieso nur das geglaubt habe, was ich selber erlebt habe. Ja? Und auch nur noch davon geredet habe” (after prison my spirit no longer soared, you know? I’d hit rock bottom and then really more or less crawled along and … in any case had no confidence, also no faith, and only believed what I’d experienced myself anyway. Right? And only ever talked about that.)
14Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021.What Stötzer describes here is not just a personal crisis but a crisis of trust in society and in knowledge itself. At the same time, she suggests that in place of intellectual discussions about Marx, Lenin, Trotsky, and Bakunin (thinkers she mentioned in her interview), her only topic of conversation once she emerged from her year of silence was that traumatic taboo subject of the GDR’s prison system. In the interview, Stötzer refers to herself as a “Knastologin,” (prisonologist) a term which, despite its usually humorous or ironic connotations, points to a certain type of expertise held by someone who knows about prisons through direct experience.
15Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021. This was not only integral to Stötzer’s self-understanding after her release but also her social networks: the so-called “Knastologen” (prisonologists) were one of three key groups she associated with, alongside the groups she refers to as “die Experimentellen” (the experimental ones) and “die Politischen” (the political ones). Interestingly, she speaks of her bonds with others who had been imprisoned in terms of familial relationships (she refers to Ulrich Schacht, for example, as a “Knastbruder” (prison brother) which gives expression to the private and political nature of their affinity). Moreover, she notes that having been a prisoner in the GDR automatically made you a kind of “öffentliche Figur” (public figure): “Sobald du über’n Knast geredet hast, warst du sowieso gefährlich für die Stasi, weil es dann Knast gab, oder gefährdet, eben weil du gesprochen hast” (as soon as you talked about the clink you were in any case dangerous for the Stasi, because it meant that jail existed, or threatened, precisely because you’d talked).
16Interview with Gabriele Stötzer, June 14, 2021. As we shall see in more detail in chapter 3, Stötzer not only spoke but also wrote about her experiences to resist the state’s attempts to silence former prisoners and prevent their knowledge from becoming public.
Both our interviews and the Stasi files point to other occasions when knowledge about arrests and interrogations by the Stasi was shared with friends and close colleagues. For instance, Wegner recalled sharing details after she, Schlesinger, and several acquaintances were taken to Hohenschönhausen for interrogation having sent a letter to Honecker complaining about the way the newspaper
Neues Deutschland had reported on the self-immolation of Pastor Oskar Brüsewitz in 1976: “alle, die unterschrieben hatten und die in der Brüsewitz-Geschichte vernommen wurden, haben sich anschließend getroffen und haarklein erzählt was die [Stasi] wissen wollten” (everyone who signed and had been interrogated about the Brüsewitz story met up afterwards and told each other down to the last detail what they [the Stasi] wanted to know). Maaß states that reading the Stasi files revealed to him how close he was to arrest and imprisonment. He knew what prison was like from the accounts of others, but not the risks that he was running: “Man wusste, wie es dort im Knast ist. Das haben uns schon Leute erzählt. Und ich hatte nicht geahnt, dass ich so nah da dran war” (we knew what it was like in prison. People told us that. And I didn’t realise, that I was so close to it).
17Interview with Ekkehard Maaß, July 30, 2021.Anderson’s IM files also contain reports on conversations he had been privy to after the arrest and release of other writers. In one example from late 1983, Anderson reported that a prominent political writer, who had been arrested ahead of a demonstration between the Soviet and US embassies, had told friends gathered in his apartment “daß er bei seiner Vernehmung einen sehr gut informierten Mann von der Staatssicherheit gegenübersaß” (that he had sat opposite a very well-informed man from the state security during his interrogation).
18Report by IMB “Fritz Müller” on [name redacted] arrest and reaction to November 4, 1983, dated November 11, 1983, 1. The writer himself had refused to sign the MfS “Protokoll und Erklärungen bzw. Belehrung” (transcript and declarations or caution) but had otherwise held an “offenes Gespräch” (open discussion). In a later conversation with a different group of friends, the same writer once again spoke about his arrest and “vor allem darüber, was man tun könne, wenn künftig wieder solche Verhaftungen seien. Man müsse untereinander besser koordinieren, da man ja wüßte, wenn solche Sachen geplant sind” (above all about what can be done when there are future arrests. There needs to be better coordination with each other, since it’s known if such things are planned).
19Report by IMB “Fritz Müller” on [name redacted] arrest and reaction to November 4, 1983, dated November 11, 1983, 2. We can see that the experience of arrest and these moments of knowledge-sharing were also moments that shaped shared strategies for dealing with the Stasi’s repressive measures.
These first-hand experiences of imprisonment initiate these critical intellectuals into significant aspects of the public secret of the Stasi that remain hidden from others. In chapters 2 and 3, we will explore in more detail how these different forms of knowledge supported trust, agency, and countersurveillance. However, we should note the fragility of knowledge at second hand, which could only ever be partial. Moog describes her encounter with Jürgen Fuchs in West Berlin after her exit from the GDR. As she recounts it, we see that it is Fuchs’s body, rather than his words, that reveals to her the conditions in the Stasi prisons in which the critical writer had been held after the Biermann protests: “Der [Fuchs] war wirklich gezeichnet von dem Aufenthalt in diesem Stasi-Gefängnis, erstmal in Bautzen und dann auch in Hohenschönhausen” (he [Fuchs] was really scarred by his stay in this Stasi prison, first in Bautzen and then in Hohenschönhausen).
20Interview with Christa Moog, August 25, 2021. Kolbe recalls that friends who had been in prison, such as Frank-Wolf Matthies or Lutz Rathenow—spoke openly of their experiences, but that there was sometimes a reluctance to ask:
Und immer, wenn jemand sagte: “Oh, der und der und die und die waren in Hohenschönhausen”—zum Beispiel—im Gefängnis, das war immer, das war wie unberührbar, also da wusste ich nichts davon, wusste nur das war wie’n, das war sozusagen der schlimmste Name, ja. Da möchte man nicht.
21Interview with Uwe Kolbe, June 1, 2021.[And whenever someone said: “Oh, he and he and he and they were in Hohenschönhausen”—for example—in prison, that was always, that was as if untouchable, so I didn’t know anything about it, I just knew that was like, that was the worst name, so to speak, yes. You don’t want to go there.]
Despite the openness of some of those in his network about their experiences in Stasi prisons, Kolbe acknowledges that he struggled to fully understand: “Ich kannte Rathenow und Frank-Wolf Matthies und so weiter, die dann schon von ihren Stasivernehmern dann auch redeten und machten, ja? Nur, das war ja nicht zu fassen. Das war nicht, also das eigentlich Wesentliche war nicht zu fassen” (I knew Rathenow and Frank-Wolf Matthies and so on, who were already talking and doing things about their Stasi interrogators, yes? But that was unbelievable. That wasn’t, well, you couldn’t grasp the essence of it).
22Interview with Uwe Kolbe, June 1, 2021.In his post-Wende publication,
Die Situation, Kolbe describes the course of his friendship with Matthies. This begins when, in 1975, both writers are invited to perform some of their poetry at the “Haus der Jungen Talente” on the same evening. Kolbe’s description of the evening echoes Wegner’s account of the infiltration of these events by the Stasi: “Man hatte
es wirklich gesehen: den geflissentlichen Mitschreiber in der Lesung” (you really saw it: the conscientious scribe in the reading).
23Kolbe, Die Situation, 7. By the time of this meeting, Matthies had already experienced the remand prisons of the Stasi after his arrest in 1974. The young Kolbe is impressed by the “unverhüllten politischen Implikationen” (undisguised political implications) of Matthies’s poetry.
24Kolbe, Die Situation, 7. After completing their civil (Matthies) or military (Kolbe) service, the two authors meet again in Prenzlauer Berg. Kolbe recounts the decline of their relationship by early 1980, as Matthies was unable to understand Kolbe’s willingness to continue a relationship with the GDR regime that he saw as compromised, and Kolbe was not yet willing to take the confrontational stance that would likely lead him to suffer the same fate as his former friend: “Dabei trafen sich FWM und ich im selben Moralismus, vielleicht spiegelte sich gar seiner (wegen des damals noch bedeutsamen Altersunterschiedes) in meinem. Nur hatte er andere, seine Konsequenzen gezogen” (FWM and I shared the same moralism, perhaps even his was reflected in mine (owing to the significant age difference at the time). But he had drawn his own conclusions).
25Kolbe, Die Situation, 35. We might wonder if the different “conclusions” drawn by the two men are also a result of the different forms of knowledge available to them about the Stasi’s most brutal methods. Kolbe had this knowledge at second hand and by his own admission struggled to grasp it; Matthies had it ingrained in his own body.