My confrontation with hate in the new Europe

by Matthew D Mowrey '98

“Jugendklub in Passow erwartet Gäste aus Übersee” (Youth Club in Passow Awaits Guests from Abroad) was the headline of Passow’s local newspaper just days before we arrived.

I was part of a group of four students, three Americans and one Briton, conducting a service project in rural former East Germany. Project World Openness was created to increase contact between young people in areas of Germany and Western English-speaking countries in an attempt to destroy the xenophobia caused by the isolation of the Wall.

In recent memory, only one other American was spotted in this area, located 30 minutes from the Polish border.I spent the previous year living, studying and working in what used to be East Berlin.

The amazing cultural differences were fascinating to observe. Former West Berlin is alive with neon lights, extravagant stores and elements of American culture on every street corner.

Former East Berlin has a charm that is an acquired taste, but one that is more vibrant than the disguised West.

How incredible it was to live in a culture that has mixed feelings about its 10-year-old government and way of life, fiercely fighting against the "McDonaldization" of a culture where the people once found security.

To my amazement, Americans and Britons were still a novelty even in one of the most culturally diverse sections of Berlin. As Americans are walking definitions of capitalism, to some we were gods and to others the anti-Christ.

These two perceptions were increased tenfold the day we arrived in Passow where we were greeted by uncertainty in many different forms.

I used to find it hard to believe that Americans and Britons would be greeted with hesitation, with half the grip of a normal handshake and little eye contact.

Nonetheless, many were seemingly excited about our presence and proud to have the project in their small village, as were we proud to represent our respective countries in a place where “Westerners” have not yet made many appearances.

Some saw us as promoting democracy, and others saw us as the beginning of the eradication of their sacred culture. How threatening that must be.

Perhaps a threat to cultural identity is something that the members of the most powerful nation in the world can’t even begin to fathom, myself included.

In America we already experience tension as we assimilate the very ethnic groups that comprise our own heritages. What if we had no choice but to fall to the mercy of another culture?

In no time we would be fighting the impact this intrusion would have on our society. How would you choose to fight this — passively, politically, violently?

My group in Passow experienced each of these measures during our volunteer service in July 1998.

How frightening it was to find out that we had to live in a village 20 kilometers from Passow because neo-Nazis, strong, semi-organized and known for violence, inhabited the very place we were to be working for many hours each day.

We were slowly informed about the group of neo-Nazis in Passow and decided to face confrontation when and if it came. How likely is confrontation with neo-Nazis anyway. They’re passive and simply fighting for attention, right? Wrong!

During the first two weeks of the four-week program, we were teaching classes about American and English music, geography and culture in the local school.

It was evident within the first couple days that neo-Nazis did, in fact, exist, and they existed with a presence and confidence. They were clad in some of the finest anti-everything clothing, including symbols banned by law in Germany.

During these initial weeks, we were openly mocked and, in certain instances, threatened. I was personally told to go home and followed on two occasions. “Why?” was the only question I could ask myself. “Why?”

As the days passed, it became evident to what extent certain youth were associated with this group. All were no older than early to mid-20s, and only five were the leaders of the group in Passow.

About four who had extreme right views, to lesser or greater extents, frequented the youth club. Consequently, this gave way to numerous encounters and conversations.

Of all the things I thought I would accomplish during my life, all the challenges I would overcome, speaking with a neo-Nazi had never crossed my mind. I will never forget two of them, Benny and Peter.

Benny and Peter existed on the same spectrum but at opposite ends. Peter definitely had stronger ties to the group and was surer of his extreme right convictions than others like Benny.

It was obvious that it took Peter a while to feel comfortable coming to the youth club with us there. We did not see him at the youth club until the last week of our stay.

He was, without fail, clad with white-laced black combat boots and a Celtic cross belt buckle. Both are sure signs of neo-Nazis, and the Celtic cross is actually outlawed. His look was of course complete with a bare scalp.

I observed a member of my group talking to Peter on many occasions. One of their conversations was about Peter’s favorite band, Screwdriver. Screwdriver’s lyrics describe the rebirth of Hitler’s power like the Second Coming of Christ.

This band is illegal in Germany but was often heard in the air of Passow and surrounding villages. Conversely, Benny walked the fence like a cheap tightrope act.

When the youth club was strong, he considered himself a part of it, and when the neo-Nazis were in a strong moment, he belonged to them. Benny took a particular interest in us from the very beginning, seemingly researching a reason to pull away from his brainwashed political views.

He was, for me personally, a pivotal part of our service. I thought if we were to take a particular interest in him, we might be able to save one soul from a following that promotes the actions of the Holocaust. Just as we thought we were making a difference, the situation proved otherwise. Benny lost our confidence on one night of the third week.

Every year the youth club plans a trip to another village, Warnitz, known for its horse ranch. The trip is mainly for younger members (5-10 yrs.), but older members (10-16 yrs.), including Benny, came along.

The village, about 25 miles northwest of Passow, was peaceful, and our agenda was filled with activities in addition to horseback riding.

The first couple days we went hiking, swimming and played American games such as kickball, baseball, etc. At night, the employees of the ranch and members of my group would gather to sample some of that delicious wine and beer for which Germany is so famous.

It was during one of these gatherings that the members of my group swallowed our hearts. As the roar of several mid-sized motorcycles filled the quiet village, we stepped outside only to find the neo-Nazis from Passow at the ranch’s gate with baseball bats. Benny quickly joined them.

That night and the following nights were sleepless. We were carefully guarded. The police were notified, and we stayed indoors away from windows. The neo-Nazis sat at the gate sometimes for hours on end, waiting for what or for whom I don’t know. Nothing happened.

During our last night of the project, the students gave us a farewell party on the grounds of a church in yet another nearby village, Brietz. An interesting discovery was made that evening.

I noticed two of our students staring and counting something in the mural above the altar. When asked what they were counting, they told us that there were 27 swastikas hidden in the mural.

Needless to say, I couldn’t believe my eyes. What amazed me was that the painting was completed only a few years ago and that the swastikas were well known, but they hadn’t yet been painted over.

The fact that they had not been covered disturbed me more than the fact they were put there in the first place. This experience changed my life and raised questions most people don’t give a second thought.

Is hate so intense as Hitler’s lying dormant in people’s hearts, not just in rural former East Germany but around the world? Is a second attempt at genocide a realistic possibility? And how would I choose to fight if my identity were in question?

Matthew Mowrey worked as an admission counselor following his graduation from Wittenberg in 1998. He joined the U.S. Peace Corps in 1999 and is currently stationed in Cheboksary, Chuvash Republic, Russian Federation.