Knowledge, Mistrust, and a “Nachspiel für die Staasi”
Chapter 2 demonstrated that trust, however fragile and unstable, underpinned the sharing of knowledge and enabled GDR citizens to exercise agency. Here, we turn to the interaction between mistrust and action. A key example of this is given by the experience of Klaus Schlesinger. As we have seen in chapter 2, Schlesinger was extremely mistrustful— conspicuously so, according to IM reports. For example, in the IME file “Heinrich,” dated February 26, 1975, it is reported that: “Überhaupt musste ich bei meinem Besuch feststellen, daß Schl. sehr mißtrauisch ist. Als ich zum Bsp. meinen Tabak aus der Aktentasche holte, beugte er sich über den Tisch und sah in meine Tasche” (during my visit I realised that Schl. is very suspicious. For example, when I took my tobacco out of my briefcase, he leant over the table and looked into my bag).
1Report by IME “Heinrich, dated February 2, 1975. However, the fear of being watched—a fear that emerged from his knowledge of the Stasi’s presence in the literary scene—did not curtail Schlesinger’s actions. On the contrary, Schlesinger’s paranoia boosted his agency and led him to challenge the Stasi.
We see this, for example, in his response to a search of the apartment that Schlesinger shared with Wegner. In an IM report on Schlesinger and Wegner, the following is noted: “Die ‘Stasi’-Leute hätten dabei jeden Winkel der Wohnung fotografiert” (in the process, the “Stasi”-people had apparently photographed every inch of the apartment).
2Information about Klaus Schlesinger and Bettina Wegner in OV “Schreiberling,” dated October 2, 1976. Schlesinger suspects that the Stasi had a different goal in the search of their flat to merely confiscating books and “Biermann-Platten” (Biermann records) because of their “DDR-feindlichen Inhalts” (content hostile to the GDR).
3Information about Klaus Schlesinger and Bettina Wegner in OV “Schreiberling,” dated October 2, 1976. According to IM “Heinrich’s” account: “K. Schl. schätzte ein, daß es sich bei dem von den Mitarbeitern des MfS angegebenen Grund nur um einen Vorwand handle, um—so Kl. Schl.—hier mal die Nase reinstecken zu können” (K. Schl. guessed that the reason given by the MfS employees was only a pretext—according to Kl. Schl.—to get the chance to stick their noses in here).
4Information about Klaus Schlesinger and Bettina Wegner in OV “Schreiberling,” dated October 2, 1976. The use of “schätzte ein” (guessed) in the IM-report indicates that Schlesinger reacted and acted according to his “gut feeling” in Gigerenzer’s sense.
Indeed, various IM reports on the apartment search state that Schlesinger claimed to have seen through the Stasi and identified their true intentions. In these accounts, we see an emphasis on intuitive knowledge paired with suspicion, anger, and contempt. According to IMF “André” on October 25, 1976, for example, Schlesinger “[l]ieß sich dann aus über die ‘hinterhältigen Praktiken der Staasi [sic]’” (went off about the ‘underhanded practices of the Stasi’).
5Report by IMF “André,” in OV “Schreiberling,” dated October 25, 1976. He is represented as someone who is not only critical of the MfS but ready to confront the organisation head on, threatening the secret police with consequences (“Nachspiel für die Staasi [sic]” (consequences for the Stasi)).
6Report by IMF “André,” in OV “Schreiberling,” dated October 25, 1976. Moreover, it seems he followed through on these threats: according to the same IM report, Schlesinger successfully lodged a major complaint with the attorney general, following which the Stasi had to return most of the confiscated items.
7They did not return the Biermann records. See Report by IMF “André,” in OV “Schreiberling,” dated October 25, 1976. Wegner, on the other hand, seems to have taken the house search with composure: “Sie habe das Ganze mit Fassung getragen, denn sie kenne ja die ‘Praktiken der Staasi [sic].’ … Bettina bezeichnete den Vorfall als Rechtsbruch und als ‘typisch für die Staasi [sic]’” (she had taken the whole thing in her stride, because she knew the “practices of the Staasi.” … Bettina described the incident as a breach of the law and “typical of the Stasi”).
8Report by IM “Vera,” in OV ‘Schreiberling’, dated October 15, 1976, 243. This situated knowledge about the Stasi and their typical methods helped Wegner resist the attempt to intimidate through such an open invasion of privacy.
“Paranoia” derives from the Greek word ‘para-noeo’, meaning “madness” or “derangement.”
9“Paranoia,” Oxford English Dictionary (Oxford: Oxford University Press) <https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/137147> (accessed May 4, 2025). Formed from the prefix “para” (“beyond”) and “nous” (“mind” or “intellect,”) the term suggests a departure from rational or normative thought. One could argue that in this incidence Schlesinger deviated from prescribed social norms, assigning his own meanings and rules to create “Handlungsräume” (spaces for agency) in Alf Lüdtke’s understanding of “Eigen-Sinn.”
10Lüdtke, Eigen-Sinn. In becoming increasingly paranoid, Schlesinger attempted to construct his own structures of meaning to regain a sense of control over his world. Lüdtke refined the concept of “Eigen-Sinn,” a term originally coined by Oskar Negt and Alexander Kluge,
11Negt and Kluge, Geschichte und Eigensinn. to describe how industrial workers carved out personal spaces for independent action. However, as Lüdtke also stresses, the diffuse meanings of
Eigen-Sinn allow the concept to be expanded and applied to a variety of contexts:
Eigen-Sinn zielt in viele Richtungen, ist häufig diffus, lässt sich schwer oder kaum eindeutig zurechnen. Und auch seine Ausdrucksformen bleiben vielfach mehrdeutig, tragen vielleicht zur Absonderung und Isolation derer oder dessen bei, die sich ihr bedienen. Das aber ist zugleich der Reiz des eigenen Sinnes. Dieses Eigene erfreut und befriedigt, kräftigt oder beruhigt womöglich nur den Eigensinnigen oder die Eigensinnige selbst. Das Eigene ist nicht das Ergebnis einer politischen Organisierung oder einer gesellschaftlichen Bewegung; es ist die Frucht dieser oder jener Aktivität, die einzelne Personen entwickeln, durchsetzen und aller meistens ohne großes Getöse einfach tun.
12Lüdtke, Eigen-Sinn, 14.[Eigen-Sinn aims in many directions, is often diffuse, is difficult or almost impossible to attribute clearly. And even its forms of expression often remain ambiguous, perhaps contributing to the segregation and isolation of those who utilise it. At the same time, however, this is the appeal of its own sense. This individuality pleases and satisfies, strengthens or calms possibly only the obstinate or the obstinate themselves. What is one’s own is not the result of political organisation or a social movement; it is the fruit of this or that activity that individuals develop, implement and usually simply do without much ado.]
Schlesinger, however, does in fact present “Eigen-Sinn” with “großes Getöse” (“much ado”) through legal action against one of the most powerful institutions in the state apparatus. And whereas Lüdtke’s account of the concept excludes the notion of resistance, it is inherently present in the “Eigen-Sinn” of this author. In this respect, the English translations “stubbornness” or “obstinacy,” which imply refusal and resistance, resonate as much as notions of “wilfulness” and “sense of one’s own.”
13See also Lüdtke’s reflections on the English meanings of the concept (Lüdtke, Eigen-Sinn, 12–13). In this chapter, we explore how such stubbornness, obstinacy, and wilfulness were combined with knowledge about the Stasi gained through direct encounter, intuition, rumour and gossip to respond—often with “much ado”—to Stasi surveillance.
Political agency resulting from fear of Stasi action was not always founded on (or only on) profound mistrust of others. The networks of trust that built up around Wegner and Schlesinger within their East German milieu were not only crucial for allowing those networks to thrive in an environment of uncertain knowledge, the kinds of trust developed in these networks (as described in chapter 2) also fostered agency. Notably, these networks were activated for political purposes and pragmatic mutual support in the face of Stasi interference. For example, Wegner recalls: “Also, wenn irgendeiner plötzlich nicht mehr da war, hatte man unwillkürlich im Kopf, ‘Könnte verhaftet sein’” (so, if someone was suddenly no longer there, you involuntarily had in your head, “could have been arrested”).
14Interview with Bettina Wegner, August 23, 2021. The fear that someone’s absence could mean they had been arrested is another example of instinctive or intuitive knowledge shaped by collective experience in an environment of state control and surveillance which necessitated a general awareness of the almost constant risk of detainment. In response to such situations, Wegner indicates that there was an immediate collective attempt to confirm what had happened—“Dann ham wir sofort untereinander telefoniert: ‘Wer weiß was—,’ und haben kontrolliert, ob da einer wiederkommt” (then we immediately phoned each other: “Who knows what—,” and checked to see if that person had come back.
15Interview with Bettina Wegner, August 23, 2021. This points to an interdependence, a bond of solidarity and interpersonal loyalty, which assumed and relied on the trustworthiness of others in the network. Wegner’s recollections also indicate that this kind of knowledge exchange within the community of trust (about the whereabouts and potential arrest of an acquaintance) would also lead, in the final instance, to action: “Und wenn einer nicht wiederkam, dann haben wir gesammelt und ’nen Anwalt bestellt. Dit war eigentlich dit, wat man machen konnte” (and if someone didn’t come back, we collected the money and called a lawyer. That was actually the only thing you could do).
16Interview with Bettina Wegner, August 23, 2021. Such moments amongst groups with shared experiences and interests suggest that Wegner and her acquaintances knew what steps might be taken to confront and challenge state power through collective action.
As we have seen in chapter 2, trust also shaped how individuals positioned themselves with regard to sensitive information. While silence or reticence in group discussions could arouse suspicion (see chapter 1), Wegner offers the counterexample of a poet-artist in their friendship circle who deliberately withdrew from politically sensitive conversations about the regime’s cultural policies at social gatherings. He did so out of fear that he might, under interrogation, inadvertently betray his friends. Wegner described this stance—his precautionary openness and self-awareness—as “eine Art vorbeugende Dekonspiration” (a kind of preemptive “Dekonspiration”) which earned him respect:
Wir fanden dit alle ok. Und dann [
laughs] dann war’s schon auch ein Spruch zum Lachen “Peter, kannste mal inne Küche gehen.” Aber lustig [gemeint]. Und er hat dann gesagt “Ok,” und is inne Küche gegangen. Also, gerade wenn man irgendwelche konkreten Aktionen besprechen wollte … Dit wollte er eben nich’ ausplaudern, wenn sie ihn denn holen.
17Interview with Bettina Wegner, August 23, 2021.[We all thought it was ok. And then [laughs] it was also an inside joke: “Peter can you go into the kitchen?” But it was meant to be funny. And then he said “Ok” and went into the kitchen. So, just when you wanted to discuss any specific actions … He just didn’t want to blab it if they came for him.]
Peter knew his friends were discussing sensitive matters but was deliberately not privy to the details, while his honesty meant that Wegner and company knew about the nature of his reluctance and discretion and trusted that their knowledge could not be betrayed by this particular person. All of this rested on shared understandings of the kinds of knowledge the Stasi might try to extract from them, and how. In this context, Peter could assert a conscious refusal to acquire certain kinds of knowledge, exercising a particular form of epistemic agency.