Below you will find the most hypocritical piece of so-called journalism in Germany I have come across in recent years. Basically it comes down to preach religion and family values to the German working class. Hypocritical because exactly the same social forces who are praising family values are trying to restrict family members of immigrants coming to Germany. (E.g. Yesterday the conservative CSU demanded to reduce the age of children allowed to come to their parents in Germany from 16 to 10 years). But besides an hypcrosy that is almost comic the article reflects the deep problems the ruling class has created over immigration in Germany. On the one hand they need racism to rally some sort of mass base for their nationalist policies, on the other hands they are afraid that the racist propaganda is running out of their control and creating social turmoil. That is why we are seeing here in Germany an unprecedented wave of 'anti-racism' from above. The following article is a facet of this campaign. Johannes >From www.faz.com : 'You Cannot Settle Down in a Void' By Konrad Schuller BERLIN. Six subway stops, six faces. The journey to the Berlin district of Kreuzberg on line U1 begins at Möckernbrücke station. A woman leans against the railings of the steps, talking to the air with flailing arms. Her front teeth are missing; her right hand holds a can of Becks beer. At the station Hallesches Tor, a thin man in a woolen overcoat that is too big for him crouches by an orange-tiled wall as commuters clatter past. His begging hat lies in front of him. On his sleeve, he wears an armband with the yellow circle and the three black dots of the blind. At Prinzenstrasse station, there is no one to be seen. Because the security guards just passed through, the people on the down-and-out have sought shelter elsewhere -- for the moment. At Kottbusser Tor station, a man is lying on the traffic island beneath the viaduct of the elevated railway. The stream of cars along Skalizter Strasse flows around him. Exhaust fumes, the rumbling of the trains, pigeon droppings: This is his garden. His house is a mattress, a plastic chair and a few plastic bags. He sleeps beneath a frayed tablecloth. At Görlitzer Bahnhof, a diabetic and a disabled man have their places. The diabetic to the right of the steps, the disabled man on the left. The diabetic has a sign describing his illness, and a plate to which he has taped a coin. The disabled man sits in his wheelchair, drunk, his head hanging back, mouth gaping, his hand tensed in the gesture of begging. Beer cans are strewn around the wheelchair. At the station Schlesisches Tor, the last stop in Kreuzberg, a bearded man wanders from one kiosk to the next. Despite the cold, he is wearing a pair of patterned women's summer pants. He staggers, his head hanging loosely over his chest, his eyes, nose, and mouth all running into his beard. These are the stations of a Berlin district. At first glance, the beggars, alcoholics and junkies of Kreuzberg almost seem like a personification of the social statistics. This is what it looks like when the unemployment rate is 29 percent. But on closer inspection the cosmos contradicts the official figures. About 32 percent of Kreuzberg's residents are foreigners, mostly Turks. But the six tattered guardians of the subway station steps are 100 percent German. Statistically speaking, at least two of them should be Turkish. But the Turks of Kreuzberg elude the poverty quota. Although they are more likely than their German neighbors to be unemployed, they do not become bums. There are no Turks to be found among the groups of drunken men and women who spend their days hanging around outside Kreuzberg's supermarkets. In Berlin's poverty zones, it is the Europeans who have a monopoly on self-neglect, begging and homelessness. Both Turks and Germans have to struggle with poverty and unemployment. The Turks, however, have traditional mechanisms to help stop poverty from becoming squalor. If they were to give them up and adopt certain traditions of a more typically Kreuzberg nature, the consequence would be social collapse. It is possible to describe in terms of statistics some of the factors that make this imported culture more stable than German culture where poverty is concerned. First of all, there are the large families. Only 29 percent of German families in western Berlin have more than one child compared with 46 percent among immigrants. German parents also separate much more frequently (40 percent of couples) than non-German parents (18 percent). Broadly speaking, the constitutionally protected tradition of family life is not a distinguishing feature of German culture in Kreuzberg, but of the oriental exotic culture. Because family ties are so weak, Germans are particularly at risk when they lose their job. Parents or siblings who could help are rare. There are also other risks, to which Turks are usually immune. Germans often turn to alcohol for consolation. The downward path of the rootless often leads to the drinking dens of the train stations. If a Turkish man loses his job, he will often open a doner kebab stand or a fruit and vegetable shop despite the low profit margins. Germans, however, often remain apathetically caught up in the nets of the social welfare system. Statistically, there are 36 percent more self-employed or family-employed among Berlin's foreign population than among Germans. Thus, representatives of local Turkish trade associations have greeted the debate over a defining German culture (Leitkultur) with mixed feelings. Everyday German reality, especially in urban problem areas, does not correspond enough to constitutional values, the values of Christianity and humanity, to which the accepted definitions of the term lay claim. Every year on May 1, a raging horde of drunken demonstrators, almost completely German, turns Kreuzberg into a smoking battlefield. Beforehand, the Turkish left usually marches in a relatively orderly manner. In recent years, the trouble has been more muted, but it is hard for the Turkish shopkeeper who boards up his windows on such occasions to believe that loyalty to the constitution and love of order are part of a defining German culture. As for higher Turkish representatives, the president of Berlin's Turkish community has reacted vehemently to the idea of a defining German culture because, in his opinion, it does not stand for tolerance but the predominance of German. The failure of the majority culture in problem areas like Kreuzberg also enhances the status of the "parallel society" of the non-Germans who live there -- the ethnic network of neighborhood, mutual self-help, social control and common need that is often described as a ghetto. No one disputes that such structures only reinforce alienation and a lower social status. However, in light of the weakness of the assimilating culture -- especially on the personal and political level -- foreign-born residents often have little alternative but to cling to the culture they brought with them. Holding onto the Turkish language not only hinders assimilation into the majority society, but it also strengthens the safety net. "You cannot settle down in a void," says Barbara John, a Christian Democrat and Berlin's official responsible for foreigners. "It is important to immigrants, especially when they are finding it difficult, to maintain the tried and trusted elements of their own culture, at least for an interim period." The parallel society is therefore both a help and hindrance. Authoritarian family structures can place unbearable restrictions on individuals, especially women, and at the same time, they form a barrier against the effects of poverty. If a family member is out of work, he may find himself helping out temporarily in an uncle's snack bar, earning just enough to get by. Religion, like the family, can also be restrictive and supportive at the same time. Islam in its fundamentalist form can create a permanent sense of alienation in the new country. But the Islamic requirement to abstain from alcohol and narcotics strengthens the ability to survive social difficulties. Crime statistics suggest that Turkish youths in Berlin commit hardly any alcohol-related crime. In all of these points, the way of life of Kreuzberg's Germans has little to offer. Schools are struggling to cope. Some say it is because the number of foreign children is too high, but the Germans who live in Kreuzberg hardly have any children. The traditionally left-wing German residents of Kreuzberg long ago turned away from religion. The mosques are full, and the churches empty. In the confirmation class run by the Catholic church in Wrangel Strasse, foreigners have long been in the majority. The children are Polish, Croatian, Vietnamese, even Turkish. Despite the German majority in the district, it is up to one German girl to represent Christian Central Europe. Whatever is left of the traditional German way of life in Kreuzberg -- church, religion, family -- has to rely on immigrants for support because the Germans are no longer interested. For the Turkish community in Kreuzberg, the choice is not a ghetto or a defining German culture, but a ghetto or complete social disintegration. _______________________________________________ Leninist-International mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] To change your options or unsubscribe go to: http://lists.wwpublish.com/mailman/listinfo/leninist-international
